At Lynd's command, the cavalry patrols departed their camp, where they had been stationed for several days, and advanced toward Tumbleton. This ti, however, Lynd sent not only the first cavalry patrol to scout the area but also the second. The urgency stemd from intelligence gained through interrogating a prisoner captured the previous day: a band of as many as 700 bandits was heading toward Tumbleton with plans to loot the town.
These 700 bandits comprised 13 distinct groups, with the Scorpion Brotherhood serving as the organizer. The other 12 groups were not native to the eastern side of the Mander River. Like the Bloodshoe Brotherhood, they had fled from regions around the Blackwater Rush and The Goldroad after being encircled by Lord Tywin's army.
Upon escaping, the bandits found themselves trapped in the treacherous terrain of the mountainous hills, compounded by the relentless rains of the season. Unfamiliar with the landscape, they were unable to locate small villages to raid and were frequently harassed by local mountain clans and wildling tribes. Their dire circumstances left them without provisions, forcing them to resort to chewing tree bark, grass roots, and even the flesh of their deceased comrades. Desperation gripped them as they faced the brink of survival.
The Scorpion Brotherhood seized the opportunity to rally these scattered groups, sending envoys to propose a joint raid on Tumbleton, which reportedly had a substantial stockpile of food. To sweeten the deal, the Scorpion Brotherhood offered to share so of their own limited supplies. The starving bandits, having little choice, agreed to join the effort.
The Bloodshoe Brotherhood, however, initially declined the proposal. With a small reserve of provisions, they were reluctant to cede leadership to the Scorpion Brotherhood. Still, the Scorpion Brotherhood, wary of potential interference, dispatched agents to monitor the Bloodshoe Brotherhood's movents.
If only the Bloodshoe Brotherhood had escaped Lord Tywin’s encirclent and fled to the area east of the Mander River, it might have been dismissed as a minor oversight in a carefully executed plan. However, the presence of more than a dozen bandit remnants from the Blackwater Rush and The Goldroad in the regions north of Bitterbridge could not be chalked up to re coincidence.
“Lord Tywin deliberately drove the bandits from The Goldroad to this region,” Jon stated as he rode up beside Lynd, voicing his deduction after listening to Scar-Eyed Mitt's report.
Lynd remained silent for a mont before asking, “So, what do you think Lord Tywin's objective is?”
Jon thought for a while and then replied, “To prevent the restoration of the rchant road along The Roseroad?”
Lynd nodded. “That’s possible. For the past year, all trade between the North and the South has been routed through Casterly Rock, following the Ocean Road to Highgarden. This has been the sole connection between the regions. The Westerlands have profited imnsely and would naturally oppose the reopening of the trade route on The Roseroad. It makes sense that they would drive the bandits away from there.” He then turned to Bryn Rivers and asked, “Bryn, what do you think?”
Bryn hesitated briefly before responding, “I haven’t focused on Lord Tywin. I’ve been wondering how the Scorpion Brotherhood managed to contact more than a dozen bandit groups simultaneously, especially when these groups originated elsewhere.” His expression turned serious. “Even for us, it’s incredibly challenging to pinpoint the exact location of a single bandit group—we can only estimate their general area of activity. Yet the Scorpion Brotherhood located eleven groups in a short ti and made contact with them. If they truly had such capabilities, they wouldn’t have been driven out of the Kingswood by the Kingswood Brotherhood.”
Lynd nodded in agreent. “I had the sa question. The only plausible explanation is that the Scorpion Brotherhood has an insider within these bandit groups. But these groups used to operate on The Goldroad—how could the Scorpion Brotherhood have infiltrated them there? My guess is that the insider wasn’t planted by the Scorpion Brotherhood, and that the Scorpion Brotherhood itself is rely a pawn.”
“Lord Tywin!” Bryn Rivers and Jon exclaid in unison.
“Yes,” Lynd affird. “I suspect Lord Tywin’s goal isn’t The Roseroad trade route at all—he’s targeting Tumbleton.” His expression grew serious. He turned to Raul and issued an order, “Tell the team to pick up the pace. We must reach Tumbleton before it’s reduced to ruins. Otherwise, it will be too late.”
At Lynd’s command, the procession quickened its pace significantly. To support the logistics team, so riders in the Guard’s Unit shared their mounts, while spare horses were used to carry supplies and provisions. Watching this, Lynd made a ntal note to secure more carts, horse-drawn carriages, and other transport for future operations.
Perhaps aided by improved weather, the team encountered no further missteps or accidents. Their journey through the mountains went smoothly over the next two days, culminating in their arrival at a dense forest near Tumbleton.
Lynd decided not to advance further with the group. Instead, he ordered everyone to remain concealed in the forest. No scouts were sent ahead; instead, he instructed his forces to don their armor, ready their weapons, and maintain vigilance. Then, he released Glory, now trained, to investigate a valley where scouts had previously spotted ard n in hiding.
Before reaching Tumbleton, the scouts from the first cavalry patrol had discovered people stationed in a concealed valley outside the town. Approaching cautiously, they observed ard n lying in wait. Though their exact numbers were unclear, the lack of cooking fires at midday strongly suggested they were preparing an ambush. The scouts suspected the n were bandits from the Scorpion Brotherhood.
After Glory had been gone for a while, Lynd instructed Jon and Raul to stay by his side and not disturb him. He then focused his energy and attempted to project his spirit into Glory. The process went smoothly, and he quickly synced with the creature’s perspective, seeing the world through Glory’s eyes.
Though this was not his first ti using Glory’s vision, Lynd still found it slightly disorienting. Nevertheless, the Shadowcat’s unique sight proved invaluable for reconnaissance. Glory could perceive the heat emitted by living beings, functioning like a living thermal imager. This ability was not due to the resentful spirits's energy but a natural trait of the Shadowcats, allowing them to hunt prey in dark jungles with lethal precision.
As Glory darted through the forest, its fur began to darken, blending seamlessly with the shifting shadows of the trees. Silent and agile, it swiftly approached the valley ntioned by the scouts. Through their spirit connection, Lynd's commands reached Glory clearly, and the creature followed them without hesitation. It crouched low, carefully approaching a vantage point that provided an unobstructed view of the valley.
When Lynd saw the ard n hidden there, doubts imdiately surfaced in his mind. Their attire did not resemble that of a typical bandit group, especially not one that had been starving for days and resorted to cannibalism for survival. The group consisted of roughly 300 individuals, all clad in finely crafted leather armor that rivaled the quality of a major noble’s regular army. Moreover, they had an adequate number of horses, signifying that they were a cavalry regint. This was far beyond what any ordinary bandit group could afford. Even the formidable Kingswood Brotherhood had never managed to assemble a cavalry unit—only a major lord could sustain such a force.
“The remnants of the Targaryens.” The term imdiately ca to Lynd's mind. He recalled a rumor Vortir had once ntioned: Lady Nyria of Tumbleton was said to have ties to the Targaryen remnants.
The group lurking near Tumbleton bore all the hallmarks of these remnants. Although the Targaryens had been defeated a year ago, it did not an their followers were destitute. Many of their adherents had acted shrewdly during the fall, recognizing the inevitability of their defeat. Instead of clinging to the losing cause, they had gathered supplies and hidden away in preparation for a long period of survival.
Lynd sent a silent command to Glory, urging it to move closer to the heart of the camp. Obediently, the Shadowcat lowered itself until its belly nearly touched the ground, slipping through the shadows with practiced stealth. Avoiding the sentries with ease, it approached the camp until it was close enough to pick up snippets of conversation among the ard n.
“Lord Hagen, how long do we have to stay here?” soone asked impatiently.
In the middle of the camp, a middle-aged man with red hair poked the campfire with a stick and replied, “Anyone who wants to leave can go; I won't stop you.”
The crowd fell silent. They all understood too well that leaving the group ant certain death within ten days. Many were eager to capture any of them and deliver them to King’s Landing for a reward.
“The order I received from the Prince is to protect the Lady. I will not leave here,” the middle-aged redhead said coldly, his gaze sweeping over the few by the campfire. “You have nowhere to go and ca to for help. I accepted you and took care of you. You should be grateful. Understand?”
The faces of the group darkened, but they bowed their heads and murmured, “Yes, my lord, we understand.”
Afterwards, the small group, evidently finding it unbearable to remain, each made an excuse and left. Once they were gone, the red-haired man signaled to his subordinates with a discreet nod. One by one, they too got up and left. It was clear the man no longer trusted the deserters and intended to deal with them decisively.
Lynd, observing the scene through Glory’s eyes, decided it was enough. He already knew these people were likely the forr Kingsguard Prince Lewyn Martell’s sentinels, tasked with protecting Lady Nyria Footly. They were remnants of the Targaryens’ shattered cause, clinging to survival in the past year’s chaos.
He instructed Glory to return and exited his synesthetic vision, returning to his senses.
“What’s wrong?” Lynd asked, noticing Jon and Raul watching him with curious expressions.
Jon hesitated before replying, “My lord, just now, it seed as if you were on fire, radiating heat like a bonfire.”
Lynd froze. He had never realized such phenona occurred when he entered Glory’s body with his spirit. He usually perford such acts in solitude, making this an unsettling revelation.
Inwardly, he resolved to avoid using his powers openly in the future. Such occurrences were bound to provoke suspicion—after all, not everyone looked kindly on the mysterious or unexplained.
“Pass the order: stand down from combat readiness but maintain an alert state. Send out scouts to check the surroundings, but do not approach the valley, and ensure no one else notices us,” Lynd instructed quickly. “No fires are to be lit.”
Jon nodded and left to relay the orders.
Lynd began walking toward a nearby hillside, offering a clear view of Tumbleton. Raul started to follow with the n, but Lynd waved him off, opting to go alone.
Tumbleton sprawled by the Mander River.
The village consisted of forty or fifty low thatched cottages surrounding a modest tower house. A wooden fence encircled the settlent, with farmland stretching beyond. By the river, a small pier held one or two fishing boats. At a glance, it seed no different from any other fishing village.
But further upstream, on the hills, lay the ruins of the old Tumbleton—a stark reminder of the town’s forr grandeur. At the peak stood a crumbling, once-mighty tower castle. Stone houses sprawled down the hillside, resembling encircling walls. At the hill’s base, more houses ford a lower town with a dock that had once accommodated several large ships. By all rights, it should have been called a city.
Now, the city was a shell of its forr self. Years of wind, rain, and neglect had left the buildings collapsed, though the sturdy foundations hinted at its past splendor.
Lynd, however, saw more. Just as at the Dragonpit, he could sense a dense aura of resentful soul energy clinging to the ruins. Here, the energy was even more potent, dominated by the essence of dragons. He could make out the vague shapes of the creatures they once were—an eerie testant to their deaths.
Legends claid that two dragons perished during the chaos of the Dance of the Dragons. Now, Lynd was certain those stories were true. Only the potent magic born of a dragon’s death could leave behind such lingering effects.
At that mont, Glory erged from a nearby bush, circling Lynd twice before pressing its head against his leg. It let out a plaintive cry toward the ruins of old Tumbleton, its tone urgent.
“Are you feeling peckish?” Lynd asked, stroking Glory’s head with a chuckle.
Glory licked his palm before tugging insistently on his sleeve. There was no mistaking its agitation. It seed the dragon's spirit energy from the Dragonpit had been addictive.
Lynd stopped teasing and turned back toward the forest. After issuing so quick instructions, he mounted his horse, Glory at his side, and rode swiftly toward the ruins of Tumbleton.
Reviews
All reviews (0)