Game of Thrones: Knight’s Honor

This time, Lynd had only a small group accompanying him on his territory inspection. Aside from himself and Nymeria, there were just Nymeria's twin handmaidens, Jon the steward, and Lynd's attendants, Asha and Brienne. Balin had to remain in Tumbleton to recover from his injuries, while Daisy and Lothor accompanied the group. With Lothor's men and his freeriders, the entire entourage totaled only a few hundred people.

Because the group was so small, organizing the luggage was straightforward, and everything was prepared by morning. Lynd planned to set out in the afternoon, spend the night in a village near Tumbleton Road, and head straight to Grassy Vale by the Blueburn River. Given their likely future interactions with Grassy Vale, Lynd intended to assess the attitude of its lord before deciding on their approach.

However, as the party was about to depart, an unexpected arrival disrupted Lynd's plans—a Maester sent by the Citadel to serve as his advisor.

Upon his return to Tumbleton, Lynd had written to the Citadel in his capacity as Lord of Summerhall, requesting the appointment of a Maester. When weeks passed without a response, Lynd had begun to suspect that the raven carrying his letter might have gone astray. Yet just as he was preparing to depart, the Citadel unexpectedly assigned him a Maester.

"Maester Qyburn," Lynd recognized immediately upon hearing the man introduce himself. The gray-haired, kind-faced old man standing before him was none other than the Qyburn Lynd had heard of.

It was evident that, at this point in time, Qyburn had not yet been expelled from the Citadel; he still wore a Maester's chain around his neck. Yet there was something peculiar about the chain—it seemed different from what Lynd recalled. In his memory, Qyburn's chain should include links of black iron for ravenry, silver for medicine, and Valyrian steel for magic and the occult, reflecting his known expertise in necromancy, healing, and raven-taming. However, the chain Qyburn wore now included gold for economics and wrought iron for warfare. Something was undoubtedly amiss.

"I have high expectations of my advisor and will accept anyone assigned to me by the Citadel," Lynd said, fixing Qyburn with a serious gaze. "Now, Maester Qyburn, tell me—what knowledge do you possess, and on what grounds do you consider yourself qualified to serve as my Maester advisor?"

Qyburn's eyes had been drawn to the greatsword of the Banished Knight hanging at Lynd's waist from the moment he entered the tent. He only reluctantly tore his gaze away when Lynd posed the question. Looking serious, he replied, "My lord, I am proficient in economics and warfare. I can assist you in these areas."

"Proficient in economics?" Lynd echoed with a faint smile. He turned to Jon and instructed, "Fetch one of Bert's verified account books and bring it here for Maester Qyburn to review."

"Yes, my lord." Jon exited the tent and returned moments later with an account book, which he placed on the table.

From the moment Lynd mentioned the account book, Qyburn's demeanor had shifted. A look of panic flickered across his face, and when the book was placed before him, his eyes began darting toward the exit.

Lynd gestured toward the account book. "Go ahead, Maester Qyburn. Show me your proficiency in economics."

Qyburn hesitated, sitting stiffly at the table. He opened the book but made no move to begin.

The others in the tent, including Nymeria, noticed Qyburn's unusual behavior. Their hands instinctively went to their weapons.

Finally, Qyburn let out a deep sigh, stood from his chair, and approached Lynd. "I must confess, Ser Lynd—I lied to you."

"You're not a Maester—you're an assassin?" Nymeria's voice was cold as she glared at Qyburn, her tone sharp and accusatory.

"No, no!" Qyburn protested, shaking his head frantically. "I am a Maester—but I was expelled from the Citadel. I am an expelled Maester."

Nymeria froze at his admission, her expression softening slightly. Her own advisor, Yves, was also an expelled Maester whose chain had been revoked by the Citadel.

"What was the reason for your expulsion?" Lynd inquired.

Qyburn replied, "Because I studied the forbidden knowledge of necromancy."

Lynd shook his head and said, "I know that the Citadel considers all knowledge related to magic taboo, but that doesn't mean they forbid Maesters from studying it. Even with something as dark as necromancy, they usually allow those interested to pursue it without expulsion. You'd better tell the truth."

Realizing his attempt to obscure the truth had failed, Qyburn fell silent for a moment before admitting, "The Citadel discovered that I used living people for experiments to study necromancy."

Upon hearing this, everyone in the room, except Lynd, displayed expressions of disgust. To them, such actions were an unholy abomination, condemned by both the Seven Gods and the Old Gods.

Seeing the reactions around him, Qyburn sighed. He understood that his actions had made him an outcast and that his chances of staying by Lynd's side—or continuing to practice the magic he cherished—were slim. Yet, to his surprise, Lynd showed no hint of revulsion. Instead, he asked calmly, "Who were the living people you used for your experiments?"

Qyburn hesitated briefly before replying honestly, "Some were death row inmates. Others were gravely ill and near death. Some were slaves from Essos."

Lynd pondered this for a moment before asking, "What are your abilities besides necromancy?"

The others looked at Lynd in surprise, unable to comprehend why he seemed interested in a man they deemed irredeemable. Qyburn, too, was momentarily taken aback but quickly composed himself. "I have expertise in ravenry," he began.

"Although I don't hold a Maester's chain for it, my knowledge is no less than theirs. I can establish a raven's nest and handle communications. Additionally, I have the Healer's chain and excel in treating trauma." He turned his gaze to Balin's injured arm. "For example, this man's arm was injured over ten days ago, yet it still requires bandaging. It's evident the wound hasn't healed properly. If left as it is, he won't regain full strength in that arm. It would be best to reattach it now."

Lynd turned toward Balin. "How do you feel about your arm?"

Balin hesitated before nodding. "There are… some issues."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Lynd frowned.

Balin lowered his head, avoiding Lynd's gaze. His past experiences had taught him to endure injuries in silence.

Before the conversation could continue, Malora entered the room abruptly, addressing Lynd. "I heard you're planning to inspect the territory. Why didn't you inform me?"

Before Lynd could respond, Nymeria interjected. "You were in the laboratory. We didn't want to disturb you."

Malora waved off the remark. "Those experiments aren't important. As Ser Lynd's advisor, my priority is assisting him in managing the lord's territory." Her sharp eyes scanned the room, stopping when they landed on Qyburn. Her expression darkened. "Qyburn? What are you doing here?"

"Lady Malora," Qyburn greeted her with a bow, his demeanor suddenly more cautious.

Malora's gaze zeroed in on the gold chain around Qyburn's neck. "Since when did you become a Maester of Economics?" she asked coldly.

Qyburn lowered his head. "It isn't mine."

Malora stepped closer, inspecting the chain. "Maester Omer? If I recall correctly, you were acquainted with him."

Qyburn said nothing.

"Is he still alive?" Malora pressed.

"He's alive," Qyburn replied. "But he'll never walk again."

Malora's voice turned icy. "You haven't changed a bit, have you? You're the most heartless person I've ever known. You feel nothing for anyone. If it furthers your research, you'll do anything—whether it's dissecting someone while they're still alive or betraying those close to you."

Her words sent a chill through the room. The others' expressions turned to sheer disgust, their abhorrence for Qyburn now unmistakable.

"Since this guy is so evil, why don't you just execute him?" Nymeria frowned as she spoke, her tone sharp.

The others in the room nodded in agreement, their gazes fixed on Qyburn.

Qyburn, however, appeared unperturbed. He kept his head bowed and remained silent, making no attempt to defend himself.

Malora broke the silence, her voice calm but firm. "Do you think the Citadel doesn't know what this man has done? They know everything. Yet they haven't expelled or dealt with him, and that's because he's the best healer they have. More than ten years ago, he was already unmatched in Medicine at the Citadel, and he's only improved since then."

She turned her sharp eyes toward Qyburn. "He came here voluntarily, likely drawn by the magic you possess. He's deeply obsessed with the study of magic and witchcraft. While his formal knowledge might be average, his insights are unique. I've recently encountered challenges in my own research, and he could be the ideal assistant."

"You want me to accept him?" Lynd asked, his expression serious.

Malora shook her head. "No. The decision to accept him is entirely yours. I'm merely offering my perspective."

Lynd's gaze lingered on Qyburn for a moment before he spoke. "I'll give you a chance. You must restore Balin's hand to its former state. If you succeed, you may stay. However, if you do stay, you will abide by my rules. First, you will cease all experiments on living beings. Second, every project you undertake will require my explicit approval. Lastly, you will share your medicine studies and train a team of healers to specialize in this field."

Nymeria opened her mouth to protest. "Lynd…" Her expression showed clear doubt, but Lynd raised a hand to stop her.

Lynd's voice was steady and commanding as he turned to Qyburn. "Do you accept, Maester Qyburn?"

A slow smile spread across Qyburn's face. "I accept."

Lynd nodded and shifted his attention to Malora. "He's your responsibility now." He then addressed Balin, "Go to Qyburn for treatment immediately."

"Yes, my lord," Balin responded with a respectful nod.

As the matter seemed settled, Malora, remembering her initial purpose for coming, began, "By the way, I came here to discuss your inspection of the territories—"

Lynd cut her off. "You'll be occupied overseeing Qyburn, so you won't have time to join us in the Marches. We'll likely be gone for a month or two, and during that time, I need you to refrain from any research."

Malora frowned, ready to argue, but Lynd waved her off. "The personnel selection is finalized and cannot be changed."

Malora shot him a glare before her gaze shifted to Nymeria, who was smiling smugly beside him. With an irritated snort, Malora turned and left, her movements brisk. Qyburn and Balin followed her out.

As the door closed behind them, Nymeria turned to Lynd, her voice filled with concern. "You shouldn't bring someone like Qyburn under your command. If word of his deeds spreads, it could harm your reputation."

Lynd was unfazed. "It's not as dire as you think. Even if the news gets out, the Faith of the Seven will provide the perfect narrative—something along the lines of a demon turned virtuous under the Chosen One's guidance." He smiled faintly. "Besides, someone like Qyburn is far too dangerous to leave unchecked. Better to keep him close, under control, and put his skills to good use."

Nymeria considered his reasoning and eventually nodded. "That makes sense," she admitted, dropping the subject.

Lynd's voice became commanding once again. "Jon, go and select a group of bright individuals who are quick learners. Send them to Malora to study medicine under Qyburn."

Jon hesitated. "Won't this draw opposition from the Citadel?"

Maester Yves, standing beside Nymeria, interjected, "The Citadel will certainly object. While they tolerate pharmacists and herbalists teaching apprentices, they'll never allow Citadel medical knowledge to be disseminated this way."

Lynd's tone was resolute. "I don't need the Citadel's medical knowledge. All I require is Qyburn's expertise in medicine."

From a young age, Lynd had envisioned a dedicated medical team for treating wounded soldiers. His studies of battle casualties revealed that most deaths weren't caused by immediate injuries on the battlefield but rather by untreated wounds that festered, leading to complications and death. A specialized team of military doctors would drastically reduce these non-combat losses.

However, professional healers were scarce. Nobles relied on Maesters, while common folk turned to herbalists, apothecaries, Septon of the Faith of the Seven, or even rural warlocks.

Lynd had initially sought out pharmacists and herbalists to assess their suitability, but their primitive methods made him quickly dismiss the idea. He had even approached the Septon of the Faith, but their reliance on bleeding and prayer proved equally disappointing.

Qyburn, however, filled this critical gap. While Lynd hadn't yet witnessed Qyburn's skills firsthand, Malora's endorsement was enough. Even if Qyburn's abilities fell short of modern medicine, they were undoubtedly advanced enough to form the foundation of a competent medical team.

Meanwhile, Jon led the selected apprentices to Malora's stone tower. When he explained their purpose, Qyburn, who was in the middle of treating Balin, hesitated. A flicker of uncertainty crossed his face.

Malora, noticing his hesitation, leaned closer and spoke in a low voice. "You should do as Lynd asks and prove your value. That's the only way to achieve your goals." She pointed meaningfully at the dragon rune necklace hanging around her neck.

Qyburn glanced at the necklace, and his expression shifted. His hesitation gave way to determination as he nodded and formally accepted the apprentices Lynd had assigned to him.