Clay held up two fingers and picked up the ring, which was likely an identity token.
The ring itself appeared to be made of pure gold, with a very prominent Trident emblem on top. A line of text was engraved around the band, somewhat worn and difficult to make out. However, Clay, who was very familiar with his family's motto, managed to recognize it: "High as Honor!"
In the center of the Trident was a blood-red gemstone. It had once been a magnificent ring, but time had taken its toll, and now it was merely a dull-toned token.
Coincidentally, Clay had seen a similar ring on his own grandfather's hand. The shape and decoration were identical, but the gemstone on that ring was blue, presumably representing the ocean outside White Harbor.
Once Clay put the ring on his finger, the looks the five people gave him changed from scrutiny to a subordinate's obedience to a superior. In a sense, they only recognized the ring, not the person.
"This is my last time sitting in this room, Snow. Starting with you, the five of you will report to Lord Clay in order of your current tasks and the latest news."
Sir Bartimus's orders were still effective in this meeting room, but once he left, he wouldn't be able to enter again unless Lord Wyman Manderly himself came.
The man known as Snow nodded slightly. He sat in a chair, holding a wooden clipboard. Clay noticed some slightly yellowed paper inside, but he didn't know what was written on it.
"Most of the spies under my command are concentrated in Winterfell, Dreadfort, Last Hearth, and Hornwood. The rest are distributed among the major castles and their affiliated villages, according to population."
This was Snow's report on the distribution of the White Harbor spies in The North. Clay didn't comment, but instead asked, "During the King's stay in Winterfell, what other matters have you learned of, besides my own affairs?"
"Yes, my Lord. I will summarize the intelligence information for you later."
Clay nodded. He actually wanted to understand the abilities of these spies. After all, he was in Winterfell himself, and his original memories could also tell him some things. By comparing the two, he could roughly estimate the spies' reconnaissance capabilities.
After asking a few more questions, Clay found that the steward, Snow, hadn't mentioned Bran Stark's fall from the tower. Such a huge event was impossible for them not to know. Therefore, Clay could confirm one thing: the Three-Eyed Raven must have changed its method of influencing Bran Stark because of him.
But that was good. Compared to letting him fall from the tower, then brutally stuffing him with dreams, and finally letting a cripple escape the Wall to take over the Three-Eyed Raven's mantle, this was somewhat less tragic.
Next was River, the steward of the Riverlands. This man, who hid himself in the corner, immediately dropped a bombshell. He said:
"Lord Hoster Tully is gravely ill and bedridden. He's suffered several bouts of unconsciousness, and the maesters have managed to revive him each time. However, the old lord's life is nearing its end; he's merely waiting on his sickbed for the embrace of the gods."
River, the steward, had expected to see a look of shock on the face of his excessively young superior. But he was disappointed. Clay only furrowed his brow slightly and simply nodded, signaling him to continue.
Clay already knew the old Tully lord's days were numbered. He eventually died during the Lannister siege of Riverrun. Surely, his butterfly effect wouldn't affect Lord Tully's life, would it? Clay wondered uncertainly.
River, the steward, looked at Clay with a hint of approval and continued,
"A scion of the Frey family escaped from The Twins and was captured by Frey soldiers. The information we have received is that he has been hanged. My subordinates are currently investigating the specific reasons for the defection."
Frey? Clay frowned, he was due to depart in a couple of days to attend the Frey family's invitation. He would need to acquire more information about this family.
So, he rapped on the table and said softly,
"I need a summary of significant events that have occurred within the Frey family over the past five years. Can you do it in a day?"
"As you wish, my lord." River, the steward, replied without any change in his tone, as if it were a rather commonplace request.
According to the steward from Riverrun, the White Sea Guard in the Riverlands had almost all of its forces concentrated in The Twins and Riverrun. The only truly valuable locations in the Riverlands were those two, with perhaps the addition of the ruined Harrenhal.
Clay agreed with this assessment. Whether it was Robb Stark marching south with his army or the subsequent back-and-forth of the War of the Five Kings in the Riverlands, the Riverland lords were, frankly, useless. There was no need to consider their existence.
The roots of this situation could be traced back to Aegon I Targaryen's conquest of Westeros. The Riverlands were inherently fragmented, and Aegon I Targaryen had essentially picked the best of a bad bunch.
Therefore, when House Tully became the Wardens of the Riverlands, most of their vassals were not truly loyal, especially the Freys, who were far from the Riverlands' center and isolated upstream on the Green Fork.
The liege lord was weak, and the vassals were strong, a situation similar to House Tyrell of Highgarden. However, the Tyrells, with their wealth and political acumen, could mostly manage their vassals. But clearly, the ailing Lord Hoster Tully lacked the ability.
After the discussion about the Riverlands, the next to speak was a steward named Hill. When he gave his name, Clay understood that the names of these five stewards were all derived from the surnames given to bastards in the regions they governed. Clay had initially thought that the first two were actually of bastard birth.
Compared to the previous two, this steward Hill's report was less noteworthy. Most of the information was somewhat outdated. However, according to him, it would be very difficult for the White Sea Guard to infiltrate the Westerlands and would result in significant casualties.
This was because it was tantamount to a contest of wealth with Tywin Lannister, who sat in Casterly Rock, a man whose excrement was rumored to be gold. Tywin Lannister of the Westerlands also had a similar force, and their spies had been in constant conflict, resulting in mutual casualties.
If he didn't have anything else to say, Clay would have thought they were asking for funds. But Clay didn't have many gold dragons on hand, so what could he give them?
As for the Vale of Arryn, most infiltration failures occurred during the process of entering the Bloody Gate. After all, the spies were human, not dragons. They couldn't just fly to the Eyrie like Queen Visenya, the wife of Aegon the Conqueror.
Moreover, the Vale had been quite exclusive for years. Once the gates were closed, they ignored the outside world. The White Harbor guard could only get a pitiful amount of information, only knowing that the young Lord Robert Arryn seemed to be in very poor health, and his intellect seemed to be problematic.
The Vale's nobles had always grumbled about this, but that was all.
Finally, there was King's Landing, where the White Harbor guard had suffered the most losses. Last year alone, over ten people were captured or defected.
There was nothing they could do. They were far away in White Harbor, and their methods of micro-managing couldn't compare to Littlefinger Petyr and the eunuch Varys.
.....
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(End of Chapter)