Read 20 Chapter's Ahead in Patreon
It was not that Aenys Frey's consciousness had been directly destroyed by the Axii Sign.
Rather, his awareness was rely suppressed and placed under temporary control. However, Clay had no intention of ever allowing him to wake again.
Not wanting to let that grotesque, plum-blossom-shaped needle of Aenys Frey's offend his sight any longer, Clay ordered him to put on his clothes. anwhile, Clay walked over to the window. The air in the room was thick and nauseating, the stench unbearable.
Once Aenys Frey had dressed and at least barely regained a semblance of human dignity, Clay began his interrogation.
"Aenys Frey," Clay said, his voice cold and precise, "if I were to order you to eliminate Lord Walder Frey right now and fra Stevron Frey for the deed, how would you go about it?"
He didn't bother asking a pointless question like whether it could be done. Clay hadn't risked everything to sneak into this place just to hear uncertainties or vague maybes.
Just like a sword unsheathed must taste blood, otherwise, it has no aning being drawn at all.
This question, however, seed sowhat difficult for Aenys to process under the influence of the Axii Sign. Clay waited for nearly a minute. Just as he began to wonder if the spell had left Aenys so empty and hollow he'd beco a fool, Aenys finally responded.
"After you, Clay Manderly, left the Twins, I began slipping certain herbs into my father's als," he said tonelessly. "Butler Leif assisted . The effects would gradually weaken my father's body."
Well now—Clay raised an eyebrow at that. Quite the impatient scher, wasn't he? He'd already begun poisoning his father?
Since Clay hadn't seen Lord Walder Frey after leaving the Twins, there was no way to confirm whether Aenys Frey was telling the truth or not.
Aenys continued describing his plan to murder his own kin.
"If I were to kill my father now and fra my elder brother Stevron for it," he said, "I would first have to contact Butler Leif. He alone possesses the key to my father's chambers."
"I would sneak into his chambers and kill him there. As for the murder weapon, I already possess a dagger that my brother often uses. I stole it half a month ago, and everyone at the Twins knows that the dagger belongs to him."
"Once my father is dead and his body is found, I would imdiately lead n to seize Stevron and accuse him of patricide. He would then be sentenced to face judgnt before the Seven."
Clay reminded him calmly, "Your plan overlooks the military. Twins holds four thousand soldiers. If they are loyal to Stevron, do you truly believe you can kill him?"
"These four thousand troops obey only my father," Aenys replied, his expression blank and his tone flat. "Once he is dead, and I proclaim Stevron to be the murderer, they will hesitate. In that brief window, they will not fight for him."
His voice remained chanical, his pale, rigid face void of expression.
"As for the Freys who command the troops, there are eight in total. I can guarantee that at least three of them will not stand against . As for the remaining five, if I act swiftly enough, Stevron will not have the ti to gather their support."
Now Clay understood the situation fully. So this bastard, Aenys Frey, had already been quietly corrupting so of the castle's military leaders. No wonder he had the audacity to propose such a bold plan to hand over the Twins.
Aenys had been biding his ti in the main keep. If not for the war erupting so suddenly, and if Clay had fulfilled the marriage alliance and received reinforcents from outside, Aenys might've launched his coup already.
Tsk. That old snake had kept more secrets from him than he'd thought. Back then, he'd had no chance to use the Axii Sign on Aenys. In hindsight, that had been a mistake.
Now, with Aenys Frey in his current dazed and controlled state, sending him to stab Walder Frey with the dagger posed no difficulty. But asking him to carry out the more delicate task of contacting Butler Leif? That would be impossible.
Then again, to Clay, this was no obstacle at all.
Wasn't Christen still outside the door? He could go directly, kill the butler, and take the key. And if anyone asked who had killed Butler Leif?
Why, the answer was obvious—Stevron Frey, of course. In this entire fortress, who else could be such a villain?
Now that things had progressed this far, Clay no longer hesitated. He summoned Christen, who was standing guard outside the room, and extracted the location of Butler Leif's chambers from Aenys Frey.
"Christen," Clay commanded, "once you're inside, subdue Butler Leif. Do not kill him imdiately, or you may not find the key. Once you have the key in hand, hesitate no longer. Send him to et the Seven."
Christen, who had long since bloodied his blade, nodded without question. He took up his longsword and strode out the door.
They had already cleared out the tower's lower floors. Only the top two levels remained. Once those were secured, the path would be clear.
As for Aenys, Clay had no intention of letting him live long enough to see Stevron accused. But he could not die here. This place was not ant to be his final resting place.
Clay left him in the corner and sat by the window. He closed his eyes and entered a state of ditation, waiting quietly for Christen to return and report that the mission was complete.
He had faith in his young guard. After this battle, Christen would beco his strongest right arm on the battlefield.
As expected, Christen did not disappoint him. In less than ten minutes, the young warrior returned, holding a complex-looking key. Blood still dripped from the sword at his waist.
But on the dark red carpet, the bloodstains were hardly noticeable.
"My lord," Crissen reported, "the man has been dealt with, and I have retrieved the key."
Clay accepted the item Cressen handed to him, a key of intricate and complex design. Its appearance alone made it clear that whatever lock it opened was not ant to be easily breached.
Lord Walder Frey, as always, remained consud by his obsession with self-preservation. This ca as no surprise to Clay. It was entirely consistent with everything he knew about the man. The older Walder grew, the more deeply he feared death.
"Very good," Clay said with a smile. "Now, let us go et the master of the Twins. Tell , Christen, in the face of our army pressing against his walls, do you think dear Lord Walder Frey can still find any pleasure in the arms of his eighth wife?"
Clay's eyes glead with a trace of mocking amusent as he asked the question. Christen, ever the honest one, flushed red at once. Every ti the conversation turned in this direction, the young man who had devoted both his heart and mind to restoring his family's lost glory would beco visibly flustered and uneasy.
Clay himself had never had the chance to indulge either, but that did not stop him or the other guards from teasing Christen whenever the opportunity presented itself.
To the younger man, the very idea of an "eighth wife" was absurd beyond belief. The thought of a ninety-year-old man seeking pleasure with a woman in her twenties was so revolting that it made him shudder.
Now he finally understood why his young lord had chosen to eliminate Walder Frey without the slightest hesitation. A man like that truly deserved to be cast into the seventh level of the Seven Hells. It was better for him to rot there than remain in this world, tornting the living.
When Clay noticed Christen's reaction, he finally stopped teasing. He wiped the amusent from his face, and the atmosphere in the room grew solemn once more.
He turned to Aenys Frey and ordered him to pick up the dagger he had prepared to fra Stevron.
That blade would indeed taste blood tonight, but it would not be a weapon of justice; rather, it would be one of treachery. It was to be wielded in a plot so vile that it would forever stain the hands of the man it was ant to accuse.
---
Outside the castle walls, in the Northern army's Great camp.
Ser Marlon had already delivered Clay's orders to every mounted knight of House Manderly. None of the soldiers knew that their young lord was already deep within the enemy's stronghold, surrounded on all sides.
This was the first battle of the Northn's southern campaign, and also the first engagent for House Manderly's forces. Fired up by their orders, the soldiers' spirits soared. After all, to be chosen as cavalry ant they were in better health and had received better nourishnt. None of them would suffer from the night blindness that plagued the common foot soldiers.
However, such intense excitent could not be entirely hidden. It was only a matter of ti before so sleepless noble wandered out during the night and noticed the five hundred fully ard heavy cavalry preparing to ride.
Robb Stark, dreaming of clashing swords with Jai Lannister, was abruptly roused from his bedroll by his attendant. The mont he awoke, he was inford that the knights of House Manderly had fully assembled and were ready to march.
The news spread like wildfire. By the ti Clay slipped into Aenys Frey's chambers, every northern noble had already received word and was hastening toward Robb Stark's central command tent.
At first, the sudden news had them breaking into a cold sweat, fearing that Clay was launching a rebellion to ambush them. But they quickly ca to their senses—such a thing was impossible.
Soon enough, one of the bolder lords sent a ssenger to the Manderly camp to inquire about the situation. As it happened, they ran into Ser Marlon, who was already heading to the command tent.
After a long mont of thought, the old knight decided to reveal Clay's plan to the northern lords, though with so necessary omissions. If it truly ca to a siege and Clay faced difficulty inside the castle, launching a full assault with over ten thousand troops might improve their odds of victory.
Still, he made sure to rember his young lord's instructions. When the ti ca to charge, he would be at the very front.
Once the old knight had been disard and brought into the central command tent, he relayed Clay's plan to the abruptly awakened lords of the North. For a mont, all of them sat there in stunned silence.
What was this supposed to an? While they were all still locked in endless argunts, the boy had already slipped into the Twins on his own?
Never mind how he had managed to do it. Was this hotheaded youth truly so bold that he would not even bother to send word before acting?
Lady Catelyn, having heard parts of Clay's plan in advance, was slightly more prepared than the others. Even so, she was still deeply shaken by Clay's... strength.
"Reckless nonsense! Who does he think he is? The Sword of the Morning?" bellowed Lord Glover, slamming his hand onto the table in frustration. He cast a reproachful glance toward his old comrade. Clay might be your Commander, but how could you allow him to do sothing so foolish?
After a long silence, Roose Bolton's usually unreadable face finally revealed a trace of emotion. With a quiet sigh, he spoke.
"It seems that our young Lord Clay possesses a courage that surpasses the ordinary. May the gods watch over him."
Though the words were respectful, they were not entirely sincere. Roose Bolton understood the northern nobility better than anyone. If Clay managed to survive this venture and return from the Twins alive, whether or not he succeeded in his mission, his status among the northern lords would rise with astounding speed.
It was not that everyone admired brainless bravery, but rather that this kind of boldness, this willingness to risk everything and infiltrate enemy territory alone, was sothing they all secretly respected. After all, not one of them could honestly say they would have done the sa at Clay's age.
However, Robb Stark did not take kindly to Roose Bolton's tone. With a sudden slap of his palm on the table, the Young Wolf spoke sternly.
"My brother is inside the Twins right now, fighting our enemies to open the gates and save the lives of our n. And you all sit here without a care?"
"I do not care why he chose to do this. That is a matter we will deal with after we bring him out of there. But right now, I speak with the authority of House Stark. Prepare your forces. The mont the Twins catch fire, I want this entire army to launch the assault!"
His voice thundered through the tent. Without waiting for a response, Robb Stark turned and strode out.
The northern lords glanced at one another. At this point, there was nothing left to say.
Robb had spoken the truth. If Clay had found a way into the castle and was about to create chaos within the walls, then such a golden opportunity for siege warfare must not be wasted. These seasoned old warriors could sll the scent of battle clearly enough.
In no ti, the northern camp burst into activity. Warhorses were pulled from their stables. Armor was strapped onto bodies. Weapons were tightened in their grips. One squad after another was roused from slumber, preparing themselves for the first battle of the southern campaign.
anwhile, within the Twins, the Freys remained blissfully unaware. It was already deep into the night, the ti when slumber held its strongest grip.
The moonlight was hidden behind thick clouds, shrouding the world in an even deeper darkness.
It was in this murky silence that Clay, controlling Aenys Frey, opened the lord's chamber door.
The delicate bronze lock, once so secure, proved useless before the butler Leif's master key.
As the heavy oaken door creaked open, Clay knew that what awaited inside would be… rather fascinating.
Even before stepping into the room, Clay and Christen, both possessing the heightened senses of witchers, had already picked up every sound from within.
As they entered the chamber, a thick blend of dicinal herbs and incense filled the air. It was not the kind of sll one might expect from more sordid scenes.
Rounding a tall wooden partition designed to block drafts, the two finally ca face to face with their target: the Lord of House Frey, Walder Frey himself.
And yet, the lord's current posture was… not exactly dignified.
What a sight to behold. It was almost enlightening in a grim sort of way.
Clay quickly realized that the scene before them had clearly unsettled Christen, who had likely never witnessed anything like this. The young man imdiately turned his face away in disgust.
Ah, what a sin this was. Clay couldn't help but wonder whether this would leave a permanent mark on the lad. He rebuked himself silently for leading the boy into such a place, then forcefully cast aside all inappropriate thoughts.
It was ti to focus on the task at hand.
Walder Frey, deeply engrossed in his current activity, failed to notice the presence of others in the room. Clay and Christen moved like shadows, light-footed as cats. Not a sound gave them away. Only the slightly heavier steps of Aenys Frey, under Clay's control, broke the silence.
Clay, who was no less disturbed by the grotesque display, decided not to grant the lord any more ti. He directed Aenys to approach his father without hesitation.
It was not until Aenys reached him that Walder finally sensed sothing was amiss. He whipped around abruptly, only to co face-to-face with the cold, clammy visage of his third son.
Predictably, the old man froze, in more ways than one.
His eyes then locked onto the dagger in his son's hand. Shock and confusion clouded his thoughts, slowing even his instinctual reaction to the impending threat.
With a wet, sickening sound, the dagger—intended to fra Stevron Frey—found its mark. Driven into his heart by his own son, Aenys Frey, Walder Frey t his end.
Crimson blood splashed across the sheets and spattered the back of the woman lying beside him. Before she could even turn around in alarm, Aenys' dagger struck her too.
Death did not delay its visit to Walder Frey.
In the final flicker of consciousness before darkness claid him, Walder recognized the figure standing behind Aenys: Clay Manderly.
What is he doing here?
But the question no longer mattered. For Walder Frey's death was inevitable.
Standing before the lifeless corpse of his father, Aenys Frey showed no emotion. Clay studied the blank expression on the man's face for a brief mont, then gave him his final command — to drive the dagger into his own heart.
As the third body crumpled and its breath faded into silence, Clay stood there, his face devoid of emotion. He did not enjoy killing, but he also knew he had little choice in the matter.
The blood now pooled at his and Christen's feet. It was ti to leave.
"Co," he said, gently patting the still-stunned Christen on the shoulder. "It's ti we light a fire for this night…"
Without looking back, Clay led the way out of the chamber.
Behind them, only the candlelight remained, flickering quietly in the darkness.
---
(Author's Note)
Exhale… Walder Frey. I gave him a death without dignity. Perhaps he's the first nad character to fall in this story.
The battle in the Twins may have seed too easily won—but that was only the surface.
This is just the beginning. War has started, and death has only begun its long march.
After all, this is A Song of Ice and Fire.
---
..
..
[IMAGE]
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Chapter End's]
🖤 Night_FrOst/ Patreon 🤍
Visit my Patreon for Early Chapter:
spatreon/Night_FrOst
Extra Content Already Available
Reviews
All reviews (0)