The next morning, Lynd woke up as usual, glancing at Nyria beside him before gently moving his hand away from her.
“Who is it!” Nyria’s sharp voice cut through the quiet as she stirred awake, startled by the slight movent.
Having grown used to sleeping alone, her instincts kicked in, and she reflexively swiped her hand toward Lynd. When he caught her hand, her eyes widened in realization. Seeing him next to her and noting the subtle, unfamiliar sensations of her body, her cheeks flushed a deep red. Mortified, she buried her face under the pillow.
Lynd leaned down and kissed her gently. “You rest a little longer. I’ll go check on the little one in the stable.”
“No, I’ll go with you!” Nyria protested, shaking her head as she sat up.
Without further argunt, Lynd nodded, and the two rose from the bed. Nyria shook the bed bell, summoning the maid to assist them with dressing. Afterward, they each equipped their weapons, placed strategically beside the bed. Though they rarely wore armor in Tumbleton, neither ever left their quarters unard. In such an unpredictable place, they knew the next mont could bring a deadly threat.
As they stepped out of the castle, they encountered several knights and officials under their command. Most greeted them with smiles that carried a hint of teasing, though those expressions faded into formality as they noticed Lynd and Nyria’s slight frowns.
Upon reaching the stables, they found Lothos standing at the entrance with a few n, engaged in hushed conversation.
“What’s going on?” Lynd asked as he approached.
Lothos turned, his deanor imdiately respectful. “My lord, is that young one in the stable your new stablehand? Truly impressive.”
Lynd and Nyria exchanged a glance before shifting their attention toward the stable. Inside, Brienne, her face mottled with bruises, stood on a horse stool, diligently cleaning Ebon’s glossy black fur. Despite the previous tension, Ebon stood remarkably still, tolerating her proximity without aggression. Clearly, much had transpired during the night.
“That’s enough for now,” Lynd said evenly as he entered the stable.
Brienne turned to look at him but didn’t pause her work, continuing to ticulously brush every inch of Ebon’s coat. Her stubborn persistence was evident in every stroke.
Ebon, on the other hand, seed less patient. The stallion snorted occasionally, pawing at the ground in irritation. Yet, he refrained from any outright hostility, even when Brienne leaned against him for balance. Instead, he rely shifted a few steps away.
Although Brienne likely couldn’t explain how she had managed it, Lynd could see that Ebon no longer resented her presence. Despite his lingering unease, the horse had co to tolerate her closeness.
After thoroughly brushing Ebon’s fur, Brienne climbed down from the horse stool, her expression weary. She approached Lynd and said, “I have brushed your horse, my lord.”
Lynd looked at her sternly. “From today onwards, you will look after Ebon. You will also polish my armor. Additionally, you’ll study with Maester Yves daily. In the evenings, I will train you in swordsmanship. My training is very strict. If you fail to et my requirents, I will continue training you until you succeed. Do you understand, Brienne?”
“Yes, my lord,” Brienne replied firmly, her voice loud and resolute.
“Very well. Now you can go and rest. Everything begins tomorrow.” Lynd turned to Lothor, issuing further orders. “Lothor, take Brienne to the fortress and arrange for her to stay in the room next to mine. Also, prepare suitable clothes, leather armor, and weapons for her.”
“Yes, my lord.” Lothor nodded, then gestured for Brienne to follow. “Co here, little one.”
Brienne straightened up as she walked toward him. “My na is Brienne, my lord.”
“Very well, Brienne,” Lothor said with a small smile before leading her out of the stable and toward the fortress.
For the next four days, Lynd stayed in Nyria’s room, his presence a steady reassurance. Afterward, he led his forces east of the Roseroad to root out the bandits, wildling tribes, and mountain clans plaguing the area. Brienne accompanied him on the campaign.
The operation proceeded with remarkable ease. The bandits and tribes offered no resistance as Lynd’s forces advanced. Many fled deeper into the Kingswood or the Red Mountains upon hearing of their approach. Others surrendered outright, their spirit already broken by the reputation Lynd had established during his earlier campaigns west of the Roseroad.
Even Lynd was surprised by the lack of opposition. His earlier operations had left an unexpectedly deep impact. With just over a thousand n, he had swept through the lands west of the Roseroad, subjugating thousands of villagers, eradicating over a dozen bandit groups, and compelling the surrender of unruly wildling tribes. Tens of thousands of people had been integrated into Tumbleton’s holdings, and the shockwave of his success rippled far and wide. Bandits, mountain clans, and even the garrisons of neighboring lords now feared Lynd’s forces.
In just one month, Lynd had achieved what would ordinarily have taken several months. Seven mountain villages and two wildling tribes had been brought under Tumbleton’s control, while eleven bandit groups had been eliminated. His success had effectively completed the bandit-suppression mission assigned to him by Lord Mace Tyrell. Now, it was only a matter of waiting for his reward.
Previously, so might have attempted to undermine Lynd’s accomplishnts. As a knight without a powerful family to support him, he had once been an easy target for opportunists. However, no one dared such machinations anymore. Lynd now had the backing of Willas Tyrell, heir to Highgarden, as well as the Faith of the Seven.
For the Faith, and especially the Most Devout Septon of the Starry Sept, Lynd’s military achievents solidified his reputation as the Chosen Warrior of the Gods. His victories were not just personal successes but triumphs that furthered the Faith’s influence.
After returning to Tumbleton, Lynd resud his usual routine. He made no effort to send ssengers to Highgarden to report on his success against the bandits. Instead, he focused on maintaining the readiness of his army, inspecting the construction progress of the Blackwater Rush Fortress, and dedicating ti to training Brienne and Dacey in practical combat skills.
Lynd initially focused solely on training Brienne, but Dacey, upon observing the sessions, expressed her desire to be trained as well. Lynd saw no harm in including her and agreed without hesitation.
Brienne, as Lynd quickly realized, had undergone rigorous training in swordsmanship before. Her technique was solid, leaving little room for correction. What she lacked, however, was refinent in her movent and pacing during combat. To address this, Lynd incorporated advanced offensive techniques from the Peacekeepers and introduced them to Brienne. To further enhance her practical skills, Lynd enlisted Balin and Lothor as sparring partners, ensuring Brienne faced a variety of combat styles during her training.
Dacey, on the other hand, didn’t need instruction in swordsmanship or combat fundantals. As a mber of House Mormont, renowned for their prowess on the battlefield, Dacey already excelled in such areas. From Jeor Mormont, the "Old Bear," to Jorah Mormont, the "Ser Bezoar," and now Dacey herself, the Mormonts of Bear Island were formidable warriors.
Lynd's analysis of Dacey revealed two key weaknesses: a lack of combat experience against powerful foes and a need for familiarity with fighting outnumbered. To address these, Lynd paired Dacey with Wenda the White Fawn and Nyria as sparring partners. He observed from the sidelines, pointing out her mistakes during their matches and helping her refine her techniques.
Over two weeks passed in this manner. One morning, Lynd instructed Brienne to prepare her armor and saddle Ebon. He planned to take Nyria and a small contingent of n to patrol the surrounding area and resolve minor disputes among the newly settled villages near Tumbleton.
“This ti, only the 3rd and 4th cavalry patrols will accompany us. The rest will remain in town,” Lynd said as he fastened his armor, addressing his assembled n.
“Yes, my lord,” Balin and Lothor replied in unison.
Nyria turned to one of the garrison knights. “Ser Quenn, you’ll co with and bring a hundred n.”
“Yes, my lady,” the knight acknowledged with a respectful nod.
Brienne, standing nearby, handed Lynd his sword and asked, “And ?”
“You’ll co too,” Lynd answered, noticing the eagerness in her expression.
“Yes, my lord,” Brienne said, her excitent evident as she took a deep breath to steady herself.
However, her joy was short-lived. Just as the group was preparing to depart, Maester Yves approached hurriedly, carrying two letters. He handed one to Nyria and the other to Lynd.
Lynd and Nyria exchanged a brief glance before breaking the wax seals and reading the contents of their respective letters.
“Balon Greyjoy has declared himself King, and the Iron Islands have rebelled!” Nyria exclaid. Her voice carried an undercurrent of alarm, and the surrounding n turned toward her in shock.
Lynd, however, remained composed. He had anticipated this rebellion and was well-prepared for it. What did surprise him, though, was the scale of the rebellion’s impact.
The letter detailed the widespread destruction wrought by the Ironborn. Lynd recalled that during the original Ironborn rebellion, Lannisport had been attacked, with the Lannister fleet burned at the docks. However, this ti, the devastation extended far beyond what he rembered.
Not only had Lannisport been destroyed and the Lannister fleet obliterated, but Faircastle had also been entirely taken over by the Ironborn.
All mbers of House Farman, except for Jeyne Farman, who had fled to Casterly Rock, were killed. The Crag and Banefort had also fallen victim to brutal attacks, with both castles sacked. Although the Lords of these regions had managed to escape via hidden passages, they were now in no position to mount a counterattack and had taken refuge in Ashemark.
The Riverlands had not been spared either. Seagard, a vital stronghold, was under siege by a significant Ironborn force.
The rebellion had escalated into a crisis far greater than Lynd had expected, and its repercussions would undoubtedly reshape the region.
Seagard, under normal circumstances, possessed the strength to repel the Ironborn or at least hold its defenses against a prolonged siege. However, the timing of the attack coincided with a dire situation. The Lord of Seagard had fallen seriously ill during the recent cold disaster and had yet to recover fully. His illness lingered, flaring up repeatedly, leaving him too weak and disoriented to effectively command the garrison.
With the lord incapacitated, his son, Patrek Mallister, struggled to maintain the castle's defenses.
Though he managed to hold the walls, it was clear that Seagard was in no position to counter the Ironborn’s relentless assault. Desperate for support, they sent a plea for assistance to the Iron Throne.
The letters Lynd and Nyria received painted a grim picture of the Ironborn’s unchecked dominance along the western coast of Westeros. Their raids struck wherever they chose, spreading fear and destruction across the region. The letters also conveyed urgent orders from King Robert, summoning all the Lords of the Seven Kingdoms to rally their armies and assemble at King’s Landing without delay.
Accompanying the royal summons were directives from House Tyrell addressed to Lynd and Nyria, instructing them to organize their forces and march imdiately to King’s Landing.
“How many people are we taking?” Nyria asked, passing her letter to a subordinate as she turned to Lynd.
Lynd considered the question briefly before responding. “I’m taking everyone. As for you, take a thousand.”
With the decision made, preparations began. Despite Lynd’s statent that he would bring all his forces, he left Lothor’s and Wenda the White Fawn’s groups behind to secure Tumbleton.
As they organized their troops for the march, a raven arrived from Willas Tyrell, bearing a letter detailing Highgarden’s support plans. The letter outlined the deploynt of supporting forces from the Reach, with Lynd and Nyria designated as the vanguard to arrive in King’s Landing ahead of the main forces, which would follow in ten days.
Interestingly, House Tyrell would not be leading the army in person. Instead, the command had been entrusted to Randyll Tarly. The supporting houses included House Rowan, House Crane, House Fossoway of Cider Hall, House Hightower, and House Redwyne.
Of particular note, House Hightower and House Redwyne would provide naval support for the Western Territories, while the other houses’ troops would gather in Highgarden before marching as a unified force to King’s Landing.
The letter also ntioned familiar nas among the support team. Joel Flowers, representing House Crane, and Mathis Rowan, whom Lynd had t previously at Goldengrove Castle, were included in the contingent.
At the end of the letter, Willas shared a significant political developnt: Dorne would not be responding to the Iron Throne’s call for aid. For Dorne, the suffering of the Westerlands was a favorable outco, aligning with their interests. This refusal underscored the tenuous unity among the Seven Kingdoms.
Willas concluded the letter with a personal note to Lynd, advising him not to expend unnecessary effort on this conflict. He assured Lynd that, once the rebellion was quelled, Highgarden would publicly acknowledge his completion of the bandit suppression task and grant him his reward. He also stated that Lynd would then travel to Highgarden to receive his formal investiture.
The wording of this last section gave Lynd pause. Willas had used the term "conferring", typically reserved for conferring a noble title upon a commoner.
If the reward was rely land and a knighthood, this phrasing would not have been necessary.
Could it be that I’m not just being granted land, but also being ennobled? Lynd speculated, the thought filling him with excitent. The more he pondered it, the more plausible it seed.
This realization kept Lynd’s spirits high throughout the preparations, his enthusiasm so evident that it left Nyria puzzled by his unusually deanor as the procession began its journey.
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