The originally smooth conversation stalled at this question, as though Nikolas had something difficult to say.
After chatting about some trivial local customs Ethan and his men took their leave.
At the gate of Solag Keep Ethan pulled Roland aside.
"Come—let's find a quiet place to talk more."
He led Roland to a secluded corner of the village and asked:
"Roland—you were reluctant to explain too many details on the way here.
Now that you've seen the garrison commander—can you tell me what's really happening in your village?"
Roland sighed.
"Geigar is my cousin—his mother was my father's sister."
Roland's grandfather had been a merchant of modest wealth who raised one daughter and two sons.
After paying a large dowry the daughter married Geigar's father—so although Roland was roughly ten years younger than Geigar they were indeed first cousins.
The Solag family had held the garrison command of Wisteria Village for five generations under the Starks.
Geigar—the current head—had married a daughter from another garrison family.
Over her lifetime she bore him only two daughters.
In this era even among high nobility dying without a male heir was common.
So after marrying off his elder daughter Geigar kept the younger Anya at home and brought in Nikolas—the youngest son of House Jenkins—as a son-in-law intending to groom him as successor to the garrison command.
But fate intervened.
Nearly ten years ago Geigar's first wife died of illness.
At the time Geigar was still a vigorous warrior.
After two years of mourning loneliness won out—he remarried a girl younger than Anya making her his second wife.
Six years ago Geigar followed Lord Eddard to fight in the Greyjoy Rebellion.
Not long after returning his second wife gave birth to a healthy son—but tragically the infant never opened his eyes before his mother died of postpartum hemorrhage.
The loss of his second wife dealt Geigar a crushing blow.
His spirit and body declined rapidly.
Having gained a son so late in life Geigar doted on the boy obsessively determined to raise him as heir to the Solag garrison command that had stood five generations.
Thus Nikolas Jenkins—who had been groomed for seven or eight years—was quietly sidelined.
Afterward Geigar relied more heavily on his old veterans—most of them collateral descendants of the Solag line—to manage village affairs.
Unfortunately even the best intentions cannot defeat fate.
Over two years ago while hunting in the Northern Mountains Geigar suddenly collapsed from his horse.
Revived by his companions and carried home he gradually became confused and forgetful.
Unable to govern Nikolas stepped forward to take charge—but Geigar's old comrades refused to obey him.
Using the garrison commander's lingering authority they openly and subtly blocked Nikolas's decisions rendering him powerless to control the village.
Garrison commanders are not true lords—they are hereditary stewards managing a lord's land on his behalf.
If a commander dies without recommending a suitable family member to House Stark beforehand the position may be stripped and his kin reduced to commoners.
The chance for a mere vassal to be elevated to true lordship is vanishingly rare—which is why Houses Mormont (granted Bear Island) and Manderly (granted White Harbor) remain so fiercely loyal.
Old Geigar has his own wish—to wait until his young son comes of age and inherits the position.
His veterans have their own agenda—unwilling to lose their influence or see Wisteria Village pass to another family.
And Nikolas—who can say he had no ambitions when he tried to take command?
All these tangled motives have left Wisteria Village in chaos.
Simply preventing the bandits from overrunning the settlement is already an achievement—let alone launching a preemptive strike.
Ethan asked Roland:
"Is Nikolas truly interested in claiming the position?
Which side are you on?"
"Nikolas has never said it openly—but if he ever truly gains power in the village he'll have little choice.
As for me—since I was fifteen I've carried Geigar's banner into battle.
Whichever side he stands on so do I.
But little Crowe—Geigar's son—is only five.
He still has ten years before coming of age.
Can Geigar last that long?
Besides I watched Anya grow up.
From the time she could barely speak I played with her in the village streets.
Later she grew up married Nikolas and has done very well—
Geigar wants to give the garrison command to Crowe—I support that.
I have no objection to Nikolas Jenkins taking over.
The other veterans and I fought shoulder-to-shoulder on the battlefield…
I cannot ignore their feelings.
But I fear that if this drags on much longer—once the village falls and word reaches Winterfell that the Wisteria garrison commander can no longer protect his people—the duke will almost certainly appoint one of his own trusted men to replace him.
Then neither Crowe nor Nikolas nor any of the old brothers will benefit.
That's why I volunteered to travel to Winterfell to hire mercenaries.
Even the fifteen gold dragons I promised you were collected house by house from the village."
After listening Ethan spoke frankly:
"Since you have enough prestige to raise mercenary pay from the villagers
and you followed Commander Geigar for many years—why can't you become the garrison commander yourself?
Is there anyone more suitable than you?"
Roland was stunned at first then gave a wry smile.
"What nonsense are you talking?
I haven't a drop of noble blood.
How could I be garrison commander?
Even if the duke forced the position on me no one else would accept it."
Ethan nodded.
So that's how it is—the terrifying power of bloodline theory.
This was an internal affair of Wisteria Village—Ethan had no intention of meddling—so he changed the subject:
"So what's our next plan?"
Roland nodded.
"Next plan?
You go eliminate the bandits—that's the plan."
"—Very thorough.
What about the two scouts you promised me?"
"I'll find them shortly—they'll report to your camp tomorrow."
After parting from Geigar on the walk back to camp Ethan couldn't help complaining:
"The succession of a garrison commander in such a small rundown village has caused so much trouble."
Lennar laughed.
"Don't even mention a garrison command—even a single gold dragon if the old man didn't make his wishes clear before dying could cause bloodshed."
Ethan took a deep breath.
"Forget it—it's their family matter—we don't interfere.
As mercenaries we only need to think about how to help them eliminate the bandits.
I just feel sorry for the villagers."
Back at camp after dinner Ethan gathered all officers—including the squad vice-leaders—and reported what he had learned during the day's visit to the garrison commander.
After listening Conrad muttered:
"Fifteen gold dragons including supplies and total extermination—the price is really too low."
Ethan also felt it was a poor deal—but what could they do?
A small startup company like theirs—if they didn't take jobs no one else wanted they would simply starve.
He shook his head and comforted the group:
"It's fine.
Our goal isn't to remain someone's hired blades forever.
We must grow into a force capable of independent operations so we can command higher rates in the future.
This is an opportunity."
Arriving in unfamiliar territory they had to handle everything themselves—from camps to supplies to intelligence.
This was undoubtedly a huge challenge for the newly formed Silver Hand.
But it was also an excellent training ground.
Only by overcoming this hurdle would the Silver Hand—like a blade tempered in fire—reveal its true sharpness and resilience.
Yet as the ancients said: "War is a matter of life and death—the road to survival or destruction.
It must be thoroughly considered."
Leading the entire company blindly into the mountains would be suicide.
They needed thorough reconnaissance before any effective plan could be made.
The next morning Roland arrived at the Silver Hand camp with two hunters.
Ethan handed them to Eddie with instructions to lead them into the mountains locate the bandits' camp and assess their numbers strength and equipment.
Meanwhile Ethan personally continued drilling the soldiers.
Around noon he suddenly heard Ghost's low growls mixed with Bell the bear cub's curious rumbles—and the terrified cries of a child.
Ethan knew something was wrong and hurried toward the sound.
He saw Ghost crouched low growling at a boy of about five or six while Bell tried to sniff the child's feet—causing the boy to kick the bear's nose in fright.
Seeing this Ethan barked sharply:
"Ghost—Bell—back off!"
Ghost was silent and cold revealing his wild nature only when playing with Bell.
Within the entire Silver Hand only Jon Snow could give him orders—and even Jon ultimately answered to Ethan.
At Ethan's command Ghost and Bell obediently lay down to one side.
Ethan picked up the child carried him back to camp and checked him carefully.
Only after confirming no bites or scratches did he relax.
Safe now the boy cried even louder:
"Waaah! Sister! Sister! I want my sister! Fina! Nik!"
Waving away the curious soldiers who had gathered Ethan kept soothing him:
"It's all right child—it's all right."
He had Jon fetch a small cup of honey and a piece of dried meat from the supplies placed them in the boy's hands—and finally the crying subsided.
After the child finished the honey ate the jerky and drank a bowl of cheese-and-mushroom soup Ethan asked:
"Little one—how did you get here all alone?"
The boy shook his head.
"I'm not alone.
Kant came with me—but he ran away when he saw the big dog.
If I wasn't so slow I would've run too."
"What about your parents?
Don't they watch you?"
"My sister has to take care of Dad—and my brother-in-law is very busy.
Usually Suna looks after me.
But when Fina is cooking she can't watch me—so I sneak out to play for a while."
Fina the elder sister—Nik the brother-in-law—and roughly six years old…
This must be little Crowe Solag.
A child with no real supervision.
Ethan patted the boy's head feeling a pang of sympathy.
His mother dead early—his father now unable to care for himself—the child lived under the protection of his sister and brother-in-law yet had become the unwitting center of the village's power struggle.
His life could not be easy.
Ethan ruffled the boy's hair.
"Is the smoked jerky tasty?
If it is I'll get you another piece."
For a five- or six-year-old smoked meat was delicious the mercenaries' training was exciting and the clumsy brown bear cub was great fun.
Before long the boy had forgotten the time.
Not much later Nik arrived at camp with several armed men.
Seeing his brother-in-law's unfriendly expression Crowe quickly hid behind Ethan burying his face in Ethan's side.
Nikolas seeing Crowe safe and even instinctively taking shelter relaxed visibly—then shouted angrily:
"Crow—who let you come here!"
"I'm sorry—Nik…"
The little boy said timidly:
"They said a mercenary company came to the village—so I wanted to see…
Did I do something wrong—?"
"Captain Ethan—I'm truly sorry."
Nik sheathed his sword and spoke apologetically.
"Someone came running to me earlier saying wolves had taken Crowe—so we came armed.
We meant no harm—I hope you won't take offense."
Rushing into another's camp armed is hardly polite.
Yet Ethan let it pass with a laugh.
"It's fine.
There is indeed a wolf and a bear near camp—but they are our company's war pets used to guard against enemies."
Nik nodded looking at Ghost and Bell lying quietly not far away.
"I'll tell the villagers to stay well clear of your camp."
Ethan nodded pushed Crowe forward gently.
"Children are naturally mischievous.
Don't punish him too harshly when you get home."
Nik gave a wry smile.
"How could I dare strike him?
Come Crowe—your sister is worried sick."
Crow reluctantly walked to Nik still clutching the last bite of jerky in one hand while holding his brother-in-law's hand with the other.
He turned back to Ethan:
"Can I come watch your training again?"
Ethan nodded.
"Yes—but an adult must come with you."
Crow left regretfully with Nik.
Watching the two walk away Ethan noticed how alike they looked—and how close they seemed.
The tension Roland had described didn't appear here.
Perhaps things were not quite as everyone imagined.
Eddie's reconnaissance would take time—no results yet.
But Lennar had gathered some village gossip.
On the third night after arriving in Wisteria Village Lennar returned and whispered to Ethan:
"I heard the garrison commander's son-in-law Nikolas Jenkins is in contact with the wildlings in the mountains."
Conrad—who stood nearby—exclaimed in surprise:
"Hm? How dare he!"
Ethan frowned somewhat skeptical.
"Contacting wildlings is high treason isn't it?"
Lennar explained:
"He's probably acting out of desperation.
Last month the wildlings attacked again—their numbers had doubled from a dozen to over thirty."
The soldiers guarding the fields retreated into the village to avoid battle.
The wildlings plundered the crops—the village watched helplessly as their harvest was ravaged.
Unable to bear it any longer Nikolas went alone to the edge of the village and negotiated with the wildling leader eventually agreeing to hand over a month's rations to make them leave.
Because that food came from the village granary many people privately cursed him as a coward—and Lennar had overheard their loud complaints.
Ethan listened turned to his student and asked:
"Kevin—what do you think?"
"Hmph—useless."
"Jon—what about you?"
"It's always good to save the villagers' lives."
"You two are each half right.
Nikolas used a month's food to force the bandits to withdraw—temporarily saving the village yes—but also emboldening the raiders.
Once they finish eating what do you think they'll do?
They'll simply come back demanding more.
The first raid had only a dozen or so—the second over thirty.
Will there be a third?
I fear that after bleeding Wisteria Village dry the bandits will still break in killing and looting.
And Nikolas Jenkins's fate will be death."
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