The aroma of mead filled the cool night air.
Course after course of food was brought out. Though everything had been kept simple, the nobles' palates were hardly being mistreated.
Thick barley stew with braised meat, roasted pork knuckles, a cold salad of beets, spinach, and plums, and trout baked inside clay.
"The food in King's Landing is passable, but the wine is not," Gendry remarked.
He ate with great appetite, turning himself into King's Landing's greatest glutton.
Great Lord Mace Tyrell looked at Gendry in admiration. "A knight ought to be able to eat like that. Only those who can eat have strength."
The Red Viper could not help rolling his eyes.
Sansa watched the King. Gendry was thoughtfully serving the Queen, and certain cuts of meat were only fit for the Queen to enjoy.
Both Margaery and Sansa could see the sweetness in Queen Daenerys Targaryen's smile.
Her silver-gold hair, her lilac-like eyes, and even her beautiful face outshone all the other women present.
"A handsome King, eating so boldly, yet still graceful and courteous." Sansa felt herself sink into melancholy again. What a warm, sweet dream it was, yet she seemed to be only a spectator.
After that came almond bread and pigeon pies, followed by baked apples fragrant with cinnamon and lemon cakes dusted with sugar.
The sweetness of this night was not all Westeros had to offer. Blood and Fire were still to come.
After the lords had exchanged cups, eaten their fill, and drunk enough, they sent off the foreign envoys.
While the lords and knights rested on the high platform, the conversation turned once more to war. The women kept smiling and listened. War, after all, was still mostly a game for men.
The Queen of Thorns ate and drank very little, listening from the side. Her supposed poor hearing was only an act.
"Three hundred rangers. Whether they are eaten by wildlings or encounter some other strange and uncanny thing, if they cannot return, the Night's Watch will be badly weakened," Great Lord Stannis Baratheon said with a frown.
"It should not be that dire," Great Lord Mace Tyrell said, analyzing the matter with his broad face framed by brown curls. "The Night's Watch has better armor, horses, and equipment than the wildlings."
"War is not decided by equipment alone," Lord Yohn Royce said with feeling, taking up the topic. His youngest son, Waymar, was most likely already dead Beyond The Wall. As for the Vale, it too had suffered deeply from wildlings.
The wildlings lacked equipment and proper nourishment, but they used the terrain and came and went like ghosts, causing no small harm to House Arryn. Many Great Lords of Arryn had died during expeditions into the mountains to suppress raiders.
"Send ravens to The Wall. We need to know whether this is the power of wildlings or White Walkers," Great Lord Stannis said.
"As you command, Lord Stannis," Lord Selwyn Tarth replied. As Master of Whisperers, his responsibilities were now considerable.
The chill from the north had somewhat dampened everyone's mood. If those strange and uncanny White Walkers and wights were real...
Now that dragons had appeared, the arrival of other terrifying things was not necessarily impossible.
"Great Lord Eddard," Gendry asked Eddard Stark directly, his voice like steel. "If the wildlings are driven by the Others and seek to come south, asking for the protection of The Wall, how would you handle it?"
Gendry looked at Eddard, his gaze full of firm resolve. This was no joke, but the true course history was taking.
The Night's Watch rangers Beyond The Wall were about to be largely destroyed, and the wildlings would still have to be arranged to help guard The Wall.
Randyll, Mathis, and the others all understood that a strong King did not truly need a regent. Although Great Lord Stannis was Hand of the King, major policies were still decided by the King himself.
"This..." Eddard fell into distress as well. This was a difficult question.
Wildlings were at least still human, but the Others were no longer human at all.
Yet there was also deep hatred between wildlings and Northmen. Wildlings raided villages and carried off women.
"I will act according to the circumstances," Great Lord Eddard said after taking a deep breath. It was a difficult choice. "Those willing to obey the laws of the realm may be sheltered. Those who refuse can only be fought."
Roose Bolton simply listened and offered no opinion.
Gendry looked at Eddard. Eddard was still kindhearted, after all. If Tywin were here, his approach would certainly be extermination.
And Eddard had another strength: he had managed relations with the mountain clans of The North quite well before. When it came to dealing with wildlings, he was far better suited than the younger men.
"With so many people, how will you settle them?" Great Lord Stannis raised an objection. "What if there are tens of thousands?"
Eddard looked at Stannis helplessly. "The North still has the Gift. One Stark Great Lord granted twenty-five leagues, and the Conciliator and the Good Queen expanded it by another twenty-five."
Brandon's Gift and The New Gift were fifty leagues of land south of The Wall, permanently granted to the Night's Watch to support them.
The residents of The New Gift paid taxes to the Night's Watch in goods or labor, helping the Watch sustain itself.
Stannis nodded. The question of land was settled, then. What remained unclear was the quality of that land.
"The Night's Watch has fewer than a thousand men left, and with wildling raids from Beyond The Wall, those lands have fallen into ruin," Great Lord Eddard stated.
"I once considered enfeoffing new lords on the Gift. If they paid taxes to Castle Black, the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch would not have much objection. But that must wait until winter ends."
"This matter is no small trouble." Eddard sighed, his face growing longer. "If the King-Beyond-the-Wall truly makes such a demand, I will be trying to coordinate four different horses."
The Night's Watch, the lords of The North, the wildlings, and the mountain clans. No one else had the standing to deal with all these forces. It was better for Great Lord Eddard to take responsibility.
Jon tried to do this as well, until he was assassinated in the end. His strength was small, but his plans were great.
"There is no one else for this matter except Great Lord Eddard," Stannis said.
"That is why I ask for the realm's help. If we are to feed so many more mouths, we need grain," Great Lord Eddard pleaded.
"We will coordinate the grain supply," Great Lord Mace said, forcing himself to accept it. This old wolf from The North had come to King's Landing to beg for food again, and they could not refuse him.
The North was bitterly cold. This grain was, in truth, the price paid for the lives of Northmen and wildlings alike.
"The wildlings still have some wealth in their hands. We are not simply losing money," Gendry said, reassuring Mace.
"I do not think the opportunity in the North is something we can wait for," Gendry said. "We must send a small team north by sea and see whether we can try our luck in the North, making contact with Mance Rayder, the King-Beyond-the-Wall. But this mission is extremely dangerous."
"I am willing." Jon Snow Stark stepped forward. "I am a Northerner."
"Jon... you..." Great Lord Eddard looked at Jon.
"I am a Northerner," Jon said with a nod, repeating himself. He wanted to do his part for the people of The North.
Seeing Jon like this, Eddard no longer forced the matter.
"You have a sense of responsibility, Jon. But the sea road is long, and you still need a helper," Great Lord Stannis said. "The Onion Knight. I believe you cannot manage without his help."
In this way, a small team would have to travel north along the sea, all the way to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, perhaps even farther.
In addition to the Ironborn to the west, The North also had the King-Beyond-the-Wall to the north.
"The lords of The Reach, the Shield Islands, and Oldtown must also strengthen their defenses," Gendry reminded them. "If the Ironborn cannot gain wealth in The North, they will turn with the wind. Balon's younger brother will be even more dangerous."
"Rest assured, Your Grace. My son is in Highgarden, and I have already written letters warning those lords, those of the Shield Islands and my good-father in Oldtown," Mace said. "After the tournament, half the soldiers will withdraw."
Gendry nodded and said no more. He had said everything that needed to be said.
But how much the lords would actually accomplish was another matter.
After all, though the King's command carried great weight, the lords had their own historical inertia as well.
...
After the feast, in the King's tent, Daenerys had already fallen into a deep sleep.
Gendry touched the scratch marks on his back, then walked over to his collection.
The ancient bronze armor of House Royce. It truly did seem to be inlaid with runes. It was damaged and ancient, though even the Bronze King had not truly escaped slaughter.
A gentle flame appeared at Gendry's fingertip. The fire coiled faintly around his palm, and the flames in the brazier dimmed a little.
Gendry slowly touched the battered orange-red bronze armor with the black-red flame, letting the fire brush over every part of it.
The power of the flame did not melt the armor. Gendry was controlling the nature of the fire, keeping it gentle.
He tried again and again, until he began to feel somewhat exhausted.
"Is it working?"
The flame in Gendry's palm began to sway slowly. The fire elements he had drawn out suddenly scattered, sinking into the runes on the breastplate and joints of the armor one by one, glowing faintly like stars.
Orange-red points of light slowly lit across the armor, warm but not scorching.
It was fire, power born from flame. Life was a cluster of fire.
The broken runes suddenly seemed to come alive again, their symbols gradually being grasped through the flames.
"A shield. It looks like a shield," Gendry said in surprise.
Then, as he grasped the runes, he guided the flames.
Bit by bit, the runes were carved into the fire, carefully shaped like a perfect work of art.
"The Bronze King."
At last, the black-red flame slowly condensed into the shape of a palm-sized shield. Two lines of runes shimmered upon it, the very marks found on the ancient runes of House Royce.
Gendry held it for a moment, then struck the shield. Within its small range, it was indestructible.
Only after a short while did the rune shield drain away like floodwater, its power spent. The Bronze Shield vanished into his palm.
Gendry felt that more than half the fire he had drawn upon had been consumed. Condensing such a shield was truly a tremendous drain.
"Runes. Only life can be exchanged for life," Gendry thought after wiping the sweat from his brow.
Gendry had spent his own fire element to condense this rune. At a critical moment, it could save his life.
Perhaps only those whose flames burned hot enough, those able to command Blood and Fire, could use runes.
"In that case, are many legends of Heroes actually a kind of rune?" Gendry wondered. "The most famous one would be the Greenhand of The Reach."