New chapter! Thanks for all the support!
x
"Tyrion!"
Sorrow crossed Jaime's ugly, scarred face when he heard the voice behind him. He mastered his expression and turned to call his brother's name.
"Jaime, what happened to your face?"
Looking at Jaime after he turned, Tyrion's bright smile vanished. He immediately asked with concern.
"Nothing. The men who caused these scars are all dead. Well, perhaps not entirely dead."
Jaime bent to pick up the red mask from the floor and put it back on. His answer came in a light tone.
"Heh, Jaime, now you do not have a pretty face any more, just like me. But it does not matter. The girls will only see our name and our gold dragons."
Knowing his brother did not want him to worry, Tyrion forced a smile onto his stiff face and answered.
Hearing Tyrion's words, Jaime stepped forward and opened his arms, giving Tyrion an embrace.
"Little brother, welcome back alive," he murmured.
"Thank you."
Looking at her two younger brothers before her, Cersei curled her lip and turned away.
Hearing the footsteps leaving behind him, a shadow of grief crossed Jaime's eyes. He released Tyrion and said, "Come. I will take you to Father. I also want to hear what happened to you in the Vale."
"Good. When you have time, I would like to hear your story as well."
Tyrion glanced toward Cersei, already walking farther away, then nodded.
The brothers chatted about recent trivial matters as they made their way toward the Tower of the Hand, where Tywin was.
When they entered the audience chamber, Tywin was diligently handling affairs of state. Seeing Jaime and Tyrion arrive together, however, he set down the quill in his hand.
"Father."
The two brothers first greeted Tywin together. Then, at Jaime's slight signal, Tyrion stepped forward.
"I have brought back one thousand Frey riders, three thousand brave warriors from the mountain clans, and more than a thousand prisoners, including Yohn Royce and Rodrik Cassel."
"Why did you return? I remember the task I gave you was to win Lady Lysa over and thereby control the Vale."
Tywin did not follow Tyrion's report. Instead, he questioned him.
"Father, in the Vale's civil war, aside from the Bronze King, both the King of Gulltown and the King of the Fingers were Littlefinger's pieces.
"At first, he urged Lady Lysa to have me lead troops toward Ironoaks. On the road, I discovered something was wrong and led men ahead to set an ambush, defeating the King of Gulltown.
"Who knew the ambitious King of the Fingers would begin slipping from control, destroy the fleeing King of Gulltown, and then be wiped out by Stannis's army?
"I discovered all this later through various intelligence I gathered, so I told Lady Lysa privately.
"As a result, Lady Lysa died in her room that same night, with a lion-head button from my clothing left beside her.
"So..."
Seeing that Tywin did not ask even one question about his condition and instead began with blame, Tyrion's expression stiffened slightly. Even so, he answered honestly.
"That information of yours was very likely something Littlefinger deliberately allowed you to learn. Otherwise, how could he have prepared your button in advance to frame you?
"Hmph. I wanted you to control the Vale, yet Littlefinger played you from beginning to end."
After hearing Tyrion's report, Tywin gave a cold snort and spoke in a deeply disappointed tone.
"Father, Tyrion did not return from the Vale empty-handed. At least he brought you four thousand soldiers and important prisoners."
The moment Tywin's words fell, Jaime stepped forward to stand beside Tyrion and shifted the subject.
"Mm. We do need every usable soldier now. But what of those prisoners?"
Hearing Jaime, Tywin at least nodded in agreement. Then he continued questioning Tyrion.
"Yohn and Rodrik were rescued by me before I left the Eyrie. From what I understand, the Bronze King and his father Bronze Yohn are very close.
"Before Lady Lysa died, he once wrote to the Eyrie on his own initiative, saying that as long as his father was released, he would abandon every castle he occupied and retreat to Runestone.
"Unfortunately, Lady Lysa refused flatly on the grounds that rebels must die.
"So I believe that if we hold him, he will at least be an important bargaining chip in negotiations with the Bronze King.
"As for Ser Rodrik, he taught Robb Stark since childhood. He also has considerable value to that sentimental King in the North.
"The other prisoners are deserters I captured on the way south, men who were slaughtering and plundering everywhere. They call themselves the Brotherhood uprising army.
"Father, these uprising soldiers are astonishingly numerous. They can be found everywhere in the Vale, the Riverlands, and the crownlands. They have killed many innocent commoners, and many villages and towns have become ruins. I believe they should be taken seriously."
Tyrion glanced at Jaime beside him and spoke to Tywin in an even tone.
"The matter of the Brotherhood uprising army can be set aside for now. They still have value. Once Robb Stark is dealt with, we can discuss them.
"As long as the wolves invading our land are killed, our sheep will breed on their own."
Tywin waved a hand and indicated that they did not need to concern themselves with the Brotherhood for now.
Tyrion frowned and was about to continue advising his father.
But Jaime, who had been watching expressions carefully, spoke first. "By the way, Father. I was chatting with Tyrion earlier, and he said he may have discovered a spellcaster beside the Bronze King."
"A spellcaster? Tyrion, explain in detail."
"Yes. In the earlier battles against the Bronze King's army, commanders in the Vale cavalry often died suddenly from suffocation.
"Later, soldiers discovered that every time a commander died, the Bronze King had a mysterious figure beside him, wearing a white mask and black robes.
"So Littlefinger still dared command from the front at first, but later he was so frightened he no longer dared leave the Eyrie."
Seeing Tywin ask him after Jaime spoke, Tyrion could only follow the shift in topic and answer.
"The Bronze King. A spellcaster. Bronze Yohn..."
After hearing Tyrion's account, Tywin murmured in thought.
"Father, if there is nothing else, we will go."
Seeing his father sink into thought, Jaime spoke and prepared to pull Tyrion away.
"Jaime, you are no longer Kingsguard. I will arrange a marriage for you afterward.
"Before that, if you want to indulge yourself, I will not interfere. In that regard, you may learn a little from Tyrion."
Just as the brothers were about to turn away, Tywin suddenly said this.
"Father, I will n..."
"Father, we take our leave."
Hearing Tywin, Jaime instinctively wanted to refuse. This time, however, Tyrion cut him off first and dragged him out of the audience chamber.
"Tyrion, why did you stop me from finishing?"
The moment the doors closed behind them, Jaime could not help asking.
"Because even if you continued, it would have no meaning. And because something about this is very wrong.
"Father has always believed my indulgence stains House Lannister's honor. Now he tells you to learn from me..."
Tyrion shook his head and answered Jaime.
"It is wrong. What have you thought of?"
"I know nothing about what has happened recently in King's Landing. What could I think of? Come. Accompany me somewhere one can gather intelligence."
"Where?"
"Heh. The place easiest for gathering intelligence, of course: the Street of Silk. I have been away from King's Landing for so long. I wonder whether Chataya has any new girls."
In the Reach, at Highgarden.
Twenty-one days had passed since Robb and Bloodwind were sealed inside the giant ice statue.
Highgarden's grey plague outbreak had been brought completely under control through the strict containment measures Robb had established. Almost three days had passed without a new infection being found.
According to Crey's rough calculation, the grey plague had ultimately caused nearly twenty thousand refugee deaths.
To be honest, that number was far better than the outbreak in Oldtown decades earlier, which had killed more than a hundred thousand commoners.
The giant ice statue, thirty feet high and unmelted beneath the sun, had now been seen by almost every refugee.
Most refugees gradually believed the rumor created by Crey's intelligence men. They felt Robb truly was a god of ice descended into the world.
As time passed, a small number of refugees even began kneeling daily before the giant ice statue that seemed as if it would never melt.
The nobles of Highgarden were different. In the first few days, many Reach nobles came every day to wait patiently before the giant ice statue. But the longer time passed, the fewer nobles came.
At this moment, only Margaery and Crey sat quietly before the giant ice statue, waiting for something.
Crey did not know whether Margaery had truly given her heart to King Robb. In any case, for the past twenty-one days, aside from returning to rest near the northern wall at night, she had spent all her time here.
As for the northern nobles, only Crey remained because Theon and Lord Rickard had already begun preparing to withdraw from Highgarden.
Twenty-one days inside a giant ice statue without food or water. Unless Robb truly was a god descended into the world, then...
Near noon that day, Lord Mace led a large group of Reach nobles toward the giant ice statue.
"Lord Mace."
"Father."
As soon as Lord Mace came close, Margaery and Crey rose and greeted him.
"Mm. Margaery, how long has it been since you visited your grandmother? She misses you. Go back and see her earlier today."
Lord Mace nodded with a serious face and immediately spoke to Margaery.
"I will go see Grandmother. After Robb comes out."
Margaery stared at Lord Mace with eyes ringed by dark circles and answered firmly.
"You still want to keep waiting? It has already been more than twenty days."
Hearing Margaery, Lord Mace frowned and answered. Then he turned to Crey and asked,
"Lord Crey, why not let me try breaking this ice statue by force and rescue King Robb?"
"It is useless, Father. Lord Crey tried every method several days ago.
"This ice statue cannot be melted by fire, smashed by hammers, or cut open by chisels."
Margaery shook her head and told Lord Mace not to waste his effort.
"Lord Mace, may I ask whether you came specially today only to attempt breaking the ice statue?"
Crey, who had not spoken until now, politely cut in.
"Ahem. It is like this, Lord Crey. It has been more than twenty days since King Robb was trapped inside the ice. At the previous meeting, every noble promised to donate food for the refugees.
"But until now, not a single bushel of grain has been delivered to Highgarden.
"The tens of thousands of soldiers stationed in Highgarden and nearly three hundred thousand refugees have been fed by House Tyrell's grain all these days.
"And at the time, His Grace personally decided that we would send troops to attack those rebel castles in the Reach, yet we still have not moved.
"You know, men cannot simply eat without working, can they?"
Hearing Crey's question, Lord Mace first cleared his throat, then stated the purpose of his visit without pausing.
"Lord Mace is right. We cannot keep waiting like this. We have recently begun making preparations for war."
Crey did not argue. Instead, he answered with a proper attitude.
"Good. You understand, then. That is best. When the time comes, I will personally lead the army. You need only obey my command."
Hearing Crey's answer, Lord Mace looked sideways at this sensible young man and spoke in a tone that brooked no doubt.
"Of course. Hm, I do not seem to see Prince Oberyn or Lord Randyll. Do those two lords know about this march?"
Crey nodded, then glanced casually at the nobles behind Lord Mace and asked.
"Ah, I discussed it with them before. Rest assured, I will notify them shortly..."
Crack.
As Lord Mace was speaking, a clear crack of ice suddenly sounded.
Crey and Margaery turned toward the giant ice statue at once, faces full of delight.
A huge crack was spreading rapidly downward from the top of the statue all the way to its base.
Crack, crack.
With continuous sounds of splitting, the giant ice statue was soon covered in countless cracks large and small.
Then, with a sound of impact from within, the giant ice statue suddenly shattered into countless tiny ice crystals that scattered through the air. Under the dazzling noon sunlight, the countless crystals turned into a brilliant, multicolored halo.
Footsteps sounded.
Within that beautiful halo, a man and a wolf, both seeming to shine, walked slowly toward them.
"I seem to have heard you discussing a march."
Lord Mace, dazzled by the halo and forced to shade his eyes with the back of his right hand, heard the familiar voice. His earlier serious and dignified expression immediately began changing.
With the familiar flattering smile on his face, he answered the figure in the halo.
"Ah, excellent, Your Grace. You have finally come out of that ice statue.
"Yes, yes. I was just discussing the matter of marching with Lord Crey.
"Although all of us were deeply worried about you, I felt we could not simply wait here doing nothing. So I was preparing to lead House Tyrell's soldiers to attack King's Landing and take the Iron Throne for you."
The tiny ice crystals around them finally dispersed into the air, and the radiant light vanished. Lord Mace lowered his right hand and finally saw Robb and Bloodwind clearly.
The first thing Lord Mace noticed was Robb's hair, now a mix of auburn and white. Then came his sharp, cold, yellow eyes, which seemed filled with a beast's nature.
Yes. The ice-crystal eyes produced by Robb's previous Link with Bloodwind had now become the same yellow beast-eyes as Bloodwind's.
Bloodwind's size had not changed at all. Only the color of his fur had become a new mix of gray and white.
Lord Mace inadvertently met Bloodwind's gaze and somehow saw a very human teasing in the wolf's eyes.
A hand reached from the side and landed on Lord Mace's shoulder, making him tremble in fright.
At the same time, Robb's voice sounded softly beside his ear.
"Lord Mace, you truly think of me with all your heart. Since you wish to take King's Landing for me, the command of the vanguard in this march belongs to none other than you."
"Gulp. Yes. Good. Your Grace."
Feeling a powerful pressure, Lord Mace nervously swallowed and nodded again and again, almost frantically.
He was not the only one to feel that pressure. While Robb spoke, everyone present was afraid to speak or move. Even their breathing grew softer.
"Good. Then it is settled."
Robb withdrew the hand from Lord Mace's shoulder and turned to Crey.
"Crey, how is the grey plague today?"
"Your Grace, twenty-one days have passed since you were wrapped inside the ice statue. The grey plague outbreak is fully under control. It has been almost three days since we found any infected person."
Hearing Robb's question, Crey still had joy on his face as he answered with a smile.
"So long? To me, it feels as if I only slept once. Heh."
As a smile appeared on Robb's face, the heavy pressure over the scene vanished. Everyone felt as if they could finally breathe.
"Your Grace, Lady Margaery has waited here every day for these twenty-one days."
After hearing Crey, Robb walked to Margaery and cupped her face in his hands.
"Margaery, I felt your heart."
"Mm."
Hearing Robb's words, Margaery lowered her head shyly and nodded.
Lord Mace, watching from the side, silently rejoiced that his daughter had persisted through this time.
Robb's stomach suddenly growled loudly.
"Enough, Margaery. Prepare food for me first. I am hungry."
Robb immediately released her face and spoke.
"Mm. I will go make it for you myself."
Margaery answered and walked briskly toward the northern wall.
Robb took a deep breath, then turned and looked around. In a low voice, he said,
"Hah. After I eat my fill, I can begin getting used to how different the world feels."
With Robb safely emerging from the giant ice statue, the tense atmosphere that had spread among Highgarden's factions disappeared.
Everyone, Robb included, acted as if nothing had happened and returned to the sweet period in which the various forces cooperated harmoniously.
Highgarden's grey plague outbreak had ended. Under Robb's strong arrangements, the work of moving refugees to open terraced fields officially began.
Afterward, using Lord Mace's complaint as an excuse, Robb made the nobles who had promised grain but delayed delivery voluntarily double their donations.
Once this grain was gathered, it was basically enough to carry nearly three hundred thousand refugees through the early period of opening land and planting. As for later, Robb believed there would be no major problem.
Because he had spent too long inside the giant ice statue, Robb felt the current pace of attack had been seriously delayed.
So he explained to Willas the details of opening terraced fields and put him in charge of that work. Robb himself prepared to act according to the tactical plan they had decided earlier.
Over the following days, Highgarden's refugees began moving toward Goldengrove in batches.
Meanwhile, Lord Mace, who would serve as vanguard with House Tyrell's soldiers, obtained Robb's consent and used coin and food to recruit nearly thirty thousand young men from the remaining refugees as new soldiers.
His thinking was simple. If Robb wanted him to serve as fodder, then he would send these thirty thousand new soldiers to serve as fodder.
In this way, the hundred-thousand-strong army stationed at Highgarden officially finished its preparations. The final war for the Seven Kingdoms was about to begin.
On the stormy surface of the narrow sea, Fury, flying the fiery crowned stag banner, rode the waves with dozens of warships.
On Fury's deck stood Stannis, Melisandre, Davos, Rolland, and the others.
"The next tactical plan had already been decided. Now this letter arrives. Do you think I should go?"
Looking north across the narrow sea, Stannis clenched the letter in his hand and asked the three behind him with some uncertainty.
"Your Grace, the Iron Bank never makes losing trades. This loan was far too easy for us. Now that this letter suddenly arrives, I believe there is a serious problem behind it.
"I think we should proceed according to the original plan."
Davos was the first to step forward and state his view.
"Your Grace, I believe the contents of the letter are too important to ignore. The difference in strength between the two sides is enormous. If they truly lose, even following the original plan will not change the final outcome.
"So I believe we should go."
After Davos spoke, Rolland also stepped forward and gave his opinion. This time, it was completely different from Davos's.
"Melisandre, what about you? Do you think I should go?"
Stannis turned to stare at the silent Melisandre and asked.
Melisandre smiled with her alluring face and answered softly, "Your Grace, have you not already made your decision in your heart?
"I have long since seen your figure in this war within the flames. I believe you can also feel the Lord of Light's guidance."
After speaking, Melisandre led Stannis to a brazier on Fury and had him stare fixedly into the flames.
As the fire in the brazier leapt irregularly, Stannis seemed to see something in it. When he came back to himself, he said loudly,
"Change course."
After giving the order, his gaze passed over Melisandre, Davos, and Rolland to look behind them.
On Fury's rear deck, and on the decks of dozens of other warships, countless soldiers and warhorses stood arrayed in neat ranks.
x
x
x
If you're enjoying the story so far, consider supporting me on Patreon ❤️
You'll get weekly early access to chapters, along with some exclusive content:
https://www.patreon.com/cw/TheDevotedReader