Chapter 57: A Beautiful Misunderstanding
Glyn: "..."
Glyn sighed inwardly. Ignorant and wild—that was the impression most people had of Crackclaw Point.
The descendants of the First Men were skilled warriors, primarily because they had long existed in a chaotic and harsh survival environment.
After the Andals arrived in Westeros with their Faith of the Seven, the lands of the First Men were left only with the harsh environments of The North and Crackclaw Point.
Both being lands of the First Men's descendants, The North, with its vast territory, was much better off than Crackclaw Point.
Roughly 1000 years ago, House Stark of Winterfell defeated their greatest enemy, House Bolton of the Dreadfort, forcing them to abandon their kingship and submit. House Stark largely completed the unification of The North, ending the region's chaotic situation.
In contrast, the descendants of the First Men on Crackclaw Point never ceased their internal conflicts, except when battling foreign enemies.
Sometimes, a hero would bring temporary peace to the chaotic Crackclaw Point, such as the legendary hero Clarence Crabbe of House Crabbe.
But once the hero died, everything reverted to its original state of mutual slaughter.
During the War of the Usurper, the Crackclaw Point Nobility, as part of the losing faction, suffered heavy casualties.
After the war, the Vale Nobility, led by Lord Jon Arryn, continuously blockaded and suppressed Crackclaw Point for over a decade, making the slaughter on the peninsula even more brutal.
The weakened Crackclaw Point thus became an opportunity for Glyn to end its chaos.
...
The open-minded Glyn wouldn't get angry over a few words from a young lady.
Once Glyn's westward advance plan succeeded and he gained control of the entire Crackclaw Point, the next phase would be to march west, out of Crackclaw Point.
Many Lords in the Crownlands had tried to conquer Crackclaw Point, among them House Mooton of Maidenpool.
Maidenpool was perfectly situated. Glyn suddenly felt today that Maidenpool should be set as the first target for his westward campaign.
Glyn's decision was due to the old feud between Crackclaw Point and House Mooton of Maidenpool, and definitely not because of the trouble caused by House Mooton's young aunt.
...
Outside the inn, at night.
Monton Waters was happily eating a basin of meat.
Anguy, leaning against a tree nearby, said somewhat listlessly, "Can't drink wine. I feel like I can't even get my spirits up..."
Monton Waters chuckled softly.
Anguy looked at Monton Waters, "Monton, you seem completely fine. Don't you like drinking wine too?"
Anguy paused, then added, "It seems everyone else is quite used to it?"
Monton Waters swallowed the food in his mouth before replying, "This is the Lord's rule. Everyone is forbidden from drinking during combat missions. Everyone was like you at first, but they got used to it."
Anguy sat beside Monton Waters and whispered, "There will be a battle?"
Although his voice was very low, it couldn't hide the excitement in Anguy's tone.
Anguy yearned for battle. He had dreams of being granted knighthood, and he needed merits, the more the better.
Monton Waters shook his head, "I can't say for sure either."
Anguy's tone became listless again, "That's true. This is the Crownlands, and the Queen is here. Who would dare to attack us?"
Monton Waters comforted him gently, "Anguy, drinking too much will still affect a battle. When you're out here, no one knows what might happen. The enemy won't go easy on us just because we've had too much to drink."
Anguy nodded slightly. As a born archer, he needed to be in a clear-headed state even more.
"You're only finding it hard because you just started. We're all used to it. You'll get used to it quickly too. There will be plenty of opportunities to drink in the future. Staying alive is what's important."
Anguy was comforted by Monton Waters.
Anguy sized up the gentle-faced Monton Waters, "Monton, how come I suddenly feel you know so much?"
Monton Waters chuckled softly.
...
Inside the inn, for protection, Glyn arranged for Lannister Red Cloaks to be responsible for internal security, while the Gold Cloaks and House Cleyber's Blue Cloaks were responsible for guarding the inn's perimeter.
Glyn, having finished his patrol, was now sitting by a bonfire outside the tent, gazing at the night sky.
Glyn heard footsteps.
Glyn's eyes moved slightly, and he saw Jaime, donned in silver armor, walking towards him.
Jaime's face wasn't looking very good. He sat down glumly on Glyn's other side.
Glyn gave a slight nod, a gesture of greeting. He was too lazy to speak, as their temperaments were incompatible.
...
After a while, Jaime cleared his throat softly.
Faced with Jaime's familiar opening gambit, Glyn rolled his eyes inwardly.
Jaime's voice held an awkward note, "Young Lord, shall we talk?"
Glyn rolled his eyes again inwardly. When there's a problem, it's "Young Lord"; when there's no problem, it's "little wildling."
A smile appeared on Glyn's face, "Ser Jaime, your mood doesn't seem very good?"
As Glyn spoke, he gestured to a nearby attendant.
The attendant brought two empty cups, set the wine bottle down, and then filled the cups.
Jaime raised a cup, took a sip of red wine, remained silent for a while, then spoke, "You seem to know a lot about Cersei... the Queen's preferences?"
*No one knows her better than you, right?*
Glyn waved his hand, "Ser Jaime, what do you want to hear?"
Another moment of silence.
Jaime leaned back slightly, his gaze fixed on the starry night sky. "I remembered my father's old teachings. He told me that when I'm lost, I can listen to others' advice, and then carefully consider if what they said made sense."
Glyn's right hand twitched slightly, then he splayed all five fingers towards Jaime.
Consulting fee: 5 Gold Dragons. Otherwise, no discussion.
Jaime, worthy of his Lannister background, his green eyes flickered, and he instantly understood Glyn's meaning.
A Lannister lion would never show any surprise just because someone quoted a price at him.
A wry smile appeared on the handsome-faced Jaime. He unbuckled the money pouch from his waist and tossed it to Glyn, saying, "Only more, not less."
Glyn easily caught the money pouch.
Jaime misunderstood Glyn; this money pouch contained at least 50 Gold Dragons. It was a beautiful misunderstanding, and Glyn, who had initially intended to brush him off with a few perfunctory words, straightened his posture.
...
Crackclaw Point, a dense forest in the northeastern part of House Cleyber's Old Lands.
A Scouting Corps Soldier's short sword was stealthily placed against the neck of a Wildling Tribe Warrior from behind.
The suddenly appearing short sword gleamed with cold light. The Wildling Warrior involuntarily trembled.
With his other hand, the Scouting Corps Soldier covered the Wildling Warrior's mouth, then swiftly and cleanly slit the Wildling Warrior's throat.
Deep night, the mountain forest was silent.
*Thwip!*
This was the sound of an arrow piercing through the air.
Before he could react, an arrow struck the Scouting Corps Soldier in the chest with a *thud*. He fell straight down, his eyes slowly losing their light.
*Thwip! Thwip! Thwip!*
Three Scouting Corps Soldiers, following silently behind, immediately fired arrows in the direction from which the arrow had flown.
"The enemy is prepared! You, go immediately and inform Ser Pyle!"
"Yes! To death or glory!"
"Scouting Corps, to death or glory!"
(end of chapter)