Don't… Don't show it, Elia.
He glanced at Elia's face to see her reaction. Thankfully, she was no weak damsel and kept a simple smile on her face.
"A-Ah… Of course, of course." Brennard nodded his head strongly, his eyes leering at Elia for some time, measuring her from her Dornish face to her feet, something that didn't go unnoticed by Wylis' cold gaze.
His loyalty's questionable, and now even his character.
"Please, come this way, M'lord. I'll see you to your hall and chamber. The men will bring your belongings. The Great Hall opens onto the main passage, where the finest rooms lie, yours among them, M'lord. Your solar sits high in the middle tower, with a fair view of the town and harbor. It is a proud castle, M'lord."
Wylis just nodded, noticing how the steward was so confident, while the soldiers following behind him were close to trembling. He also saw two maids on the way. They looked young, in their late teens. He expected they would stand aside and bow to him, but instead, they just lowered their heads, cowering, and passed by them, not a word spoken.
Hmm… The castle wasn't without a self-proclaimed lecherous lord, I guess.
His eyes shifted towards Brennard, catching him occasionally looking at Elia. But when he saw the man glancing at Rhaenys, he almost pulled his sword. But he didn't, killing him would cause problems. Brennard was Lord Wyman's man. He needed justification, even the slightest of it.
"This is your bedchamber, M'lord."
Finally, Brennard ushered them into a very large room. It was thrice the size of Lyanna's bedchamber in Winterfell. The floor was covered with fine carpet, and the windows were covered with silken curtains. A large dresser and mirror were on one side, a seating area with cushions, a table with a chair, many candles, and a grand canopied bed, complete with matching curtains and blankets.
Looks extensively used. By our dear Lord Brennard, I'm sure.
"See that a bath is made ready with warm water," Wylis ordered, turned, and pushed the old man out. He let the soldiers place his luggage inside, saw them out, and shut the door.
Surprisingly, he found the door was very thick, reinforced with metal plating, as if someone was afraid of noise leaking out.
"Yaaaay!" Rhaenys ran to check around the room as soon as Wylis put her on the floor.
He didn't go anywhere and just faced Elia with an honestly apologetic look. "Forgive me, Myra. There were too many eyes, I had to create a believable cover for you three."
"No." Elia caught his arm, shaking her head gently. "Thank you. It was necessary, I know. We should maintain this, show it rarely… this… occasional intimacy."
Seeing her embarrassment and hesitation, he didn't press it and just nodded. Then he took out the dagger from his belt, not just the blade but the whole thing with its scabbard.
"Bar the door and keep to yourself. I think Brennard's taken too much liberty and made himself the lord around here. The maids looked half-haunted at the sight of him, and I saw how his eyes lingered on you. I've known that look before, back in Winter Town. Give such men a scrap of power, and they twist it to ruin. At best he's a thief and a cheat. At worst… a rapist and a murderer. I'm leaning towards the latter."
Elia didn't seem surprised by that as she took the dagger and nodded, staring directly into Wylis's eyes. "I felt his eyes on me. I'm used to stares, but the men at home at least had the courtesy to rein themselves in. This one… he didn't care that you stood beside me. Be careful, my Lord."
"He's likely clinging to Lord Wyman for hope. I'll take him into town and press him for answers. At worst, he'll return in pieces. At best, broken," Wylis said and fixed his giant sword on his back. "I'll return soon. Until then, stay away from the baths. And make sure Leia grows used to… this bond between us."
Finally, Wylis walked out of the bedchamber and heard the door lock from inside. He found two soldiers standing guard there already. They were different from the ones who brought in the luggage. These two didn't seem afraid of him.
Lord Brennard's a team builder?
"Follow me!" He ordered them.
"M'lord, we were ordered—"
Woosh!
Splash!
Thud!
Wylis shifted for a blink of an eye. His one hand grabbed his sword's hilt. Just as his sword slid out of its custom scabbard on his back, he aimed it at the two heads. As soon as the sword was out, the blade swung and sliced the two heads clean, leaving the headless bodies to fall a second later.
Knock! Knock!
He knocked on the door and spoke gently. "I killed the two guards, Myra. Don't let Leia see it… It's bloody."
"Understood," her voice came.
With that done, he walked away, towards the Great Hall. Then he crossed another corridor and reached the exit of the castle's main keep, and arrived at the square courtyard. Unsurprisingly, he saw Brennard there, holding eight men in front of himself like a small army in a grid. He shouted orders at them.
"I didn't take you for one to shout, Brennard." Wylis walked into the open grounds and eyed the two men who had picked up his luggage.
"You two—hold the keep's gate. The rest, with me, into the town. Brennard, you'll come as well. I'll need your hand to guide the way."
"Of course, M'lord. But the town is safe, we don't need that many m—"
"I don't like to repeat myself, Brennard, remember that."
The old steward shut his mouth and just smiled, nodding, his eyes now nervous.
"Lead the way."
At Wylis' command, the steward started walking. Wylis joined him on the side. Six men, armed with just a single crude spear each, walked behind him in orderly fashion, looking more trained than their lack of equipment suggested.
Bandits? Since when did they learn how to march?
"Where should we start, M'lord?"
"The harbor," Wylis answered.
As they walked, Wylis opened the Tyrant's Fief map and maintained it open, nudging the steward to take him towards the two red dots he'd seen on the map. As they went from shop to shop, the signs of trouble continued to become clear.
The smallfolk bowed to Brennard and then to him. Their eyes were filled with fear.
Eventually, he stood in front of the two red dots. They were running a shop, a decently sized stall selling various types of fish. Their faces were sharp and bodies strong, unlike the rest of the smallfolk in the town.
Why are they red? How does the Tyrant's Squire decide who's my enemy and who's my friend?
"Fine fish you got there." He made small talk and picked up a fish. "Where'd you catch it?"
"We didn't catch it, my lord. We only buy it from the fishermen and then sell it." The man on the right replied.
"Is that so? How much fish do you sell in a day?"
"Uh… not a lot, my Lord."
"Then why do you have so much fresh fish? Isn't it a waste if you don't sell much?"
"We… we give the leftover fish to the steward, my lord. So the guards are fed."
Wylis looked at Brennard with a raised brow, surprised that the simple fish sellers addressed him so calmly and commonly. Heck, the two sellers didn't even seem much bothered by him, as if they were used to speaking with nobility.
"Good, helping the town. What are your names? You don't seem from around here, so strong and tall."
"I'm Brynce, and this is Jayse, my Lord. We're brothers and we come from a village near Dreadfort, my Lord."
[Name(Unknown)Home - Dreadfort]
[Name(Unknown)Home - Dreadfort]
Oh? It can tell that?
Wylis had an inkling that they were lying about their names, but it seemed Tyrant's Squire not only picked up their lie but also the truth. They really were from Dreadfort, the seat of House Bolton.
Then these men are…?
He glanced at the men behind him and then at Brennard.
[Name - BrennardHome - White Harbor]
So the castle steward sold out to the Boltons? No wonder the place stinks; the rot starts from the top.
Ting!
[New Hidden Quest - Honor of Ramsgate
Description - Investigate the mysterious behavior of the town and purge the evil in the Tyrant's way.
Reward - Love, respect, and loyalty of the people of Ramsgate town.]
About time one showed up.
"Enough tricks. What are your real names?"
The two sellers froze… as did the six guards behind him.
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