◉◉◉◉◉
The next day, Jimmy followed Yoren's group at a distance.
Watching them, he could only shake his head.
This wasn't marching.
It was wandering.
They covered barely twenty miles in an entire day. Judging by their route, they were avoiding Riverrun entirely and heading toward the Gods Eye, hoping to slip through unnoticed.
A straight road had become a twisting, uncertain path.
This time, Jimmy kept a closer watch.
Even Yoren didn't know where he would go next.
His direction depended entirely on what obstacles appeared ahead.
Step by step, avoiding danger by instinct alone, they eventually reached the lands near the Gods Eye.
It was almost miraculous.
Somehow, they had avoided every Lannister patrol along the way.
But their luck was running out.
Ever since Yoren had driven off two Gold Cloaks near Stoney Sept, the search had intensified.
Now even Lannister supply parties were hunting for them.
Hot Pie hacked furiously at the thorn bushes with a dull blade, muttering under his breath.
"Detours. Always detours."
He slashed again.
"Why are we even avoiding them?"
He glared toward Gendry.
"The Gold Cloaks only want him."
He spat.
"That crow's lost his mind. He could just hand him over."
He winced as another thorn scratched his arm.
"Instead, we're crawling through thorns for him."
He narrowed his eyes.
"What's so special about you anyway?"
His voice lowered conspiratorially.
"I bet he's related to that lord. The one they beheaded at Baelor's Sept."
Thud.
A clump of dirt struck his head.
Hot Pie jumped up in fury.
"Who threw that?!"
Arya stood nearby, her expression dark.
She stepped forward, hand resting on the hilt of her needle-thin blade.
"He's not," she said coldly.
Hot Pie hesitated.
"Well… why are they chasing him then?"
Arya didn't answer.
She didn't know.
But she knew one thing.
Gendry wasn't a Stark bastard.
There was only one bastard in House Stark.
Jon Snow.
Gendry approached cautiously, sensing the tension.
"What's going on?"
Arya turned away.
"Nothing."
Hot Pie muttered under his breath, but didn't press further.
Even he knew better.
…
Ahead, the road was blocked.
To the right, flames consumed the forest.
Behind them, Gold Cloaks closed in.
There was only one direction left.
The Gods Eye.
Yoren's voice rang out sharply.
"Listen carefully!"
He looked at each of them in turn.
"Every other path is crawling with soldiers."
His expression hardened.
"They won't care who you are."
"They won't ask questions."
"They'll kill you."
He pointed toward the distant lake.
"Our only chance is the water."
He took a breath.
"We'll drift north."
"If the gods favor us, we'll reach Harrenhal."
He paused.
"The Lady of Harrenhal has always been a friend to the Watch."
His tone softened slightly.
"We'll rest there. Eat properly."
"Then continue north."
Hot Pie paled.
"Harrenhal is haunted."
Yoren slapped him across the back of the head.
"Better ghosts than soldiers."
He pointed forward.
"Move!"
…
The Gods Eye lay before them.
Its surface shimmered under the fading light.
Along the shore stood the ruins of an old castle.
Burned black.
Broken.
Nothing remained but shattered towers, crumbling walls, and the skeletal frame of a gate.
Arya stared at it uneasily.
"We shouldn't stay here."
Yoren rested a hand on her head.
"They won't search a place they've already destroyed."
He gestured toward the ruins.
"Inside."
"Find somewhere to sleep."
…
Jimmy watched from afar.
Clad once more in his armor, he moved effortlessly through the shadows.
Horus had already departed, flying back toward the island in the Summer Sea.
To check on the old wolf.
Jimmy's attention remained fixed on Yoren's group.
He followed silently.
The island in the Summer Sea was barely habitable.
A single narrow stream, no wider than a man's hand, cut across its barren surface. Everything else had to be brought in from the outside. Food. Supplies. Everything.
There was nothing on that island but rock.
Jimmy couldn't afford to let the old wolf starve.
Not when the mission wasn't even complete yet.
…
Without Horus scouting ahead, Jimmy kept his distance.
Still, he wasn't worried.
If a fight broke out, they could hold on for a few seconds.
And a few seconds was all Jimmy needed.
…
That night, Jimmy had stepped away briefly when it happened.
Shouts.
Screams.
Steel clashing.
Jimmy froze.
Of all the possible moments…
This was the worst.
He moved instantly.
By the time he reached the ruins, it was already too late.
Yoren lay dead on the ground.
Nearby, a boy clutching a horned helmet was dragged forward.
A sword fell.
His head followed.
Jimmy stopped.
His expression darkened.
You promised.
You weren't supposed to die yet.
His hand tightened around the hilt of his blade.
You were supposed to stay alive until I finished what I came here to do.
Without hesitation, Jimmy stepped forward.
His great blade swept through the air.
One strike.
Horse and rider split cleanly in half.
Another strike.
Steel armor shattered like paper, flesh torn apart beneath it.
Screams erupted across the battlefield.
The enemy leader noticed immediately.
"Fall back!" he shouted. "Regroup!"
The firelight flickered.
From the shadows, Jimmy emerged.
His armor glowed with a cold, deep blue hue, as though forged from the night itself.
In his hand, he carried a massive blade nearly eight feet long.
Flames reflected along its edge.
He held a knight by the throat.
The man struggled weakly.
Jimmy released him.
The knight collapsed at his feet.
Jimmy placed his boot on his back, pinning him down.
…
"Who are you?" the leader demanded.
His banner bore the black scorpion.
"We act under the king's command. We have no quarrel with you."
His voice hardened.
"I am Ser Amory Lorch, sworn to House Lannister."
He raised his chin slightly.
"State your name."
Jimmy studied him.
Small eyes.
Flat nose.
Dark skin stretched over a thick, brutish frame.
Like a beast standing on two legs.
He spoke calmly.
"Amory Lorch."
His voice carried no emotion.
"The one who dragged a three-year-old girl from beneath her bed… and stabbed her dozens of times."
Jimmy's foot pressed down.
Crack.
The knight beneath him died instantly.
The casual dismissal.
The absolute indifference.
It shattered what little pride Amory still possessed.
"You bastard!" Amory roared. "You'll regret those words! I'll—"
Jimmy kicked the corpse toward him.
"Enough."
His voice was cold.
"You came here."
He raised his blade.
"So die here."
He moved.
Fast.
So fast he became a blur.
His blade flashed like lightning.
Slash.
Slash.
Slash.
Men fell instantly.
Armor offered no protection.
Steel parted like cloth.
Blood filled the air.
Amory's confidence vanished.
He turned his horse.
He fled.
Jimmy's voice rang out behind him.
"You're not going anywhere."
He leapt.
His foot slammed into the horse.
Bone shattered.
Horse and rider collapsed.
Before Amory could rise, Jimmy's blade struck.
The hilt slammed into his neck.
Amory's eyes rolled back.
He collapsed unconscious.
Jimmy turned.
His blade swept outward again.
The remaining soldiers broke.
They ran.
And Jimmy let them.
◉◉◉◉◉
~Support with 200 PowerStones = 1 Bonus Chapter
◉◉◉◉◉
For early access to advanced chapters on P-atreon:
P-atreon/iamxeno
(Just remove the - hyphen to access Patreon normally)
Thank you so much for your support and for reading!