Game of Thrones: Knight’s Honor

The Gale Tower stood at the end of the Boneway, on the northern side of the Wyl River. It was the last watchtower under Blackhaven's control. Beyond it, further south, lay the Wyl River, marking the boundary of the territory controlled by Wyl Castle.

From the top of the Gale Tower, one could clearly see the Wyl River and the Bone Bridge spanning it. Across the river, on the opposite bank, stood the Serpent Fang Tower, a fortress used by Wyl Castle to keep watch over the north.

By the time Lynd's group arrived, evening had already fallen. Rather than pressing on, they set up camp on a relatively flat stretch of ground below the Gale Tower.

While the others busied themselves with camp preparations, Lynd and Nymeria led a few people toward the Wyl River, gazing across at the Serpent Fang Tower on the far bank.

It had been three days since they had left Blackhaven. During that time, Lothor, Dacey and Russell had periodically reported on the situation.

Overall, events had unfolded much as Lynd had anticipated. With Lothor and Dacey joining the fight, the Wyl soldiers attempting to destroy the village had no means of resisting the cavalry's assault.

What made matters even worse for the Wyl forces was their decision to split into over a dozen smaller units to hasten the destruction of the village and drive out its people. This fragmentation gave Lothor the opportunity to pick them off one by one.

Of the more than a thousand soldiers defending Wyl Castle, only about thirty managed to escape back to the north bank of the Wyl River. Nearly half of the remaining force was slain by the cavalry, while the rest were taken captive.

Among the hundreds of captured soldiers, only a small number—those who had not sustained serious injuries and had shown relative compliance—were set aside. At Lothor's suggestion, the rest were handed over to the villagers whose homes had been attacked and destroyed by the Wyl soldiers.

What would ultimately become of the prisoners was not their concern, but the seething hatred in the villagers' eyes left little doubt as to their fate.

Wyl Castle had clearly not expected Lynd to act with such swiftness, nor had they anticipated the sheer ferocity of his cavalry. In less than two days, over a thousand of their garrison troops had been annihilated before they could even send for reinforcements.

The sudden loss had sent Lord Wyland Wyl of Wyl Castle into a panic. In desperation, he hastily conscripted a large number of farmers from his lands, mixing them with a dozen knights and over a hundred seasoned soldiers. This force was now stationed at the far end of the Bone Bridge.

Not stopping there, Lord Wyland had also begun constructing fortifications to block the bridge, determined to prevent Lynd's cavalry from launching an ambush across the river.

"The Bone Bridge should be in our hands," Nymeria said, standing by the riverbank, watching the fortifications being built on the other side. Her advice was direct and to the point.

Lynd nodded in agreement. When he first considered restoring the Boneway trade route, he had already decided that securing the bridge connecting the Stormlands and Dorne was essential.

 This was the most critical point on the Boneway, determining whether trade between the two regions could flow smoothly. Control of it was necessary for his peace of mind.

"Does this bridge have a clear owner?" Lynd turned to the knight captain sent by Blackhaven.

"Normally, it belongs to Castle Wyl," the knight captain replied after a brief pause, "but in reality, whoever controls it is the owner. In the past, Blackhaven also held the bridge for a time." He glanced at Lynd, seemingly guessing his intent, and added, "In truth, you need not worry too much, Ser Lynd. The Marcher Lords and their neighbors have been fighting for thousands of years, and territorial control shifts frequently. Beyond the fixed lands around their castles, power determines ownership elsewhere. As long as there's no major upheaval, neither the Lords of the various kingdoms nor the Iron Throne tend to interfere with what happens here."

Lynd nodded repeatedly, appearing to acknowledge the knight captain's words. But in reality, he dismissed them entirely.

The knight captain's perspective was limited to the conflicts of the Marches. If Lynd followed the simplistic logic of might makes right, as the knight suggested, he would inevitably invite the Iron Throne's censure and alienate the Lords of the Marches. Even Blackhaven, his ally, would likely grow wary of him.

"Let's go. Time to meet our future neighbors." Lynd pulled the reins, guiding his warhorse toward the Bone Bridge.

Nymeria followed without hesitation, both of them acting as if the Wyl soldiers stationed on the opposite side were of no concern.

The knights from Blackhaven, however, were uneasy.

They had heard the tales of Lynd's legendary strength—his feats likened to those of mythical heroes—but they had never witnessed it firsthand. Now, with only about twenty of them, they were riding toward a force of thousands. If those soldiers reacted unpredictably, an outright attack would be impossible to withstand.

Yet, as knights, they understood their duty: to protect Lynd and Nymeria. No matter how anxious or fearful they felt, they followed.

On the far side of the Bone Bridge, the soldiers of Wyl were momentarily stunned. To them, the sight was madness—charging forward with only a few dozen men against a force numbering in the thousands.

Then, as they took a closer look at Lynd and Nymeria, their faces went pale, and their eyes filled with awe. Recognition dawned instantly—the massive warhorses beneath them and Glory at Lynd's side. The stories surrounding Lynd weighed heavily on the minds of these ordinary soldiers.

The officer in charge wasted no time. Realizing he was out of his depth, he immediately dispatched a messenger to the nearby Serpent Fang Tower to summon the knight in command. This was not a situation the knight captain could handle alone.

Soon, the captain of the knights, sent by Wyland Wyl to defend Bone Bridge, hurriedly arrived at the makeshift barricade of planks and posts. After carefully surveying the people on the other side, panic flashed across his face, and he muttered, "Oh no, we're in trouble!" Turning to the officer beside him, he ordered, "Ride back to Wyl immediately and inform the Lord of everything that has happened here."

The officer did not hesitate. He mounted a swift horse and galloped toward Wyl Castle.

"Everyone, stay alert," the knightly captain commanded those in the camp.

Taking a deep breath, he led a small group beyond the crude wooden barrier, stepping forward to the fortifications to await Lynd's arrival.

Although Lynd was not from Dorne, that did not prevent the Dornish from admiring strength, and the knight before them was among those who did. He was one of the few followers of Wyland Wyl who had accompanied him to the Godsgrace Tournament, where he had personally witnessed how effortlessly Lynd had dispatched challengers as if they were mere children. He had also seen how Lynd dealt with the assassins who attempted to kill Willas in the town of Godsgrace.

Over the past year, countless rumors about Lynd had spread through Dorne, filling him with both awe and unease. Even with more than a thousand soldiers behind him—hastily gathered to defend the city—he felt far from secure, knowing better than anyone the true nature of these troops.

Soon, Lynd and his party arrived. To prevent Lynd from assessing the true state of the peasant soldiers behind the fortifications, the knight promptly stepped forward, leaving the defensive position behind. Approaching Lynd and Nymeria, he saluted them and said, "My lords, Lord Tarran and Lady Footly, I am Anders Sand of Castle Wyl. May I ask why you have come…"

Before he could finish, Lynd raised a hand, cutting him off. His gaze shifted past the knight to the soldiers concealed behind the rudimentary defenses. Even from small details, it was obvious—they were nothing more than conscripted peasants, not trained soldiers. Their combat ability was practically nonexistent.

Still seated on his horse, Lynd turned his gaze back to the knight, noting that his face seemed familiar. "Ser Anders, haven't I seen you somewhere before?" he asked.

Anders Sand responded quickly, "I participated in the Godsgrace Tournament a year ago. I watched as you accepted the challenges and even received some guidance from you."

"I'm pleased to see you again, Ser Anders." Lynd nodded before his expression turned serious. "In that case, I won't waste words. The recent invasion of my lands by Castle Wyl has caused irreparable damage. Though the invaders have been eliminated, the mastermind behind the attack must be held accountable."

"My lord, regarding this matter…" Anders Sand's face paled as he hurriedly tried to defend his Lord.

Lynd raised his hand again, silencing him. "You don't need to say anything. You're merely a knight and have no authority to decide. Your only task is to deliver my words to Lord Wyland Wyl. Only he can respond. Do you understand?"

Under the weight of Lynd's authority, Anders instinctively lowered his head. "Yes," he murmured.

Lynd's expression remained severe. "Tell your Lord this—Bone Bridge will serve as compensation for Castle Wyl's invasion of my land. Within two days, all people in the area surrounding Serpent Fang Tower must evacuate. If not, I will consider it a declaration of war. And when I come to Castle Wyl, I won't be taking just Bone Bridge. Have you understood my words clearly?"

"Yes, my lord," Anders whispered.

Lynd said nothing more. He turned his horse and rode away.

Nymeria and the others were puzzled by Lynd's aggressive stance, but they chose not to question him immediately, instead following silently.

After watching Lynd depart, Anders let out a quiet sigh of relief. After a moment of hesitation, he instructed his deputy to manage affairs in his absence, then mounted his horse and rode swiftly toward Wyl Castle.

Whether due to the previous officer's lack of riding skill or some other reason, Anders soon caught up to and overtook him, taking it upon himself to deliver the message to Wyl.

As Anders rode to Wyl, carrying Lynd's warning, Lynd and his group returned to their camp beneath Gale Tower.

Upon arrival, Lynd and Nymeria dismounted, handing their horses to Asha and Brienne. They entered their tent, where the twin maidservants handed them towels to wipe the dust from their faces and hands.

At that moment, Nymeria could no longer hold back her question. "Do you really think Wyland Wyl will listen to your threats and give you the Bone Bridge?"

"I don't know," Lynd replied, shaking his head.

"You don't know?" Nymeria looked at him in surprise. "When you said those words, did you not think about Wyland Wyl's reaction beforehand?"

Lynd shook his head again. "No, I didn't think about it. I just blurted those words out on impulse."

Nymeria stared at him in disbelief. After a long pause, she asked, "Then why did you suddenly decide to say those threatening words?"

"It's simple—just a shot in the dark," Lynd admitted. "Haven't you noticed? Ever since we left Grassy Vale, everything has gone incredibly smoothly, without a single obstacle. Before we set out, we expected trouble—lords resisting us, bandits, wildling tribes—but every challenge has been resolved almost effortlessly. It's as if we've been blessed by the gods, surrounded by good fortune. So I want to see if luck can still work in our favor here in Wyl."

Nymeria smiled. "And have you considered what you'll do if Wyland Wyl doesn't yield to your threats?"

"What else? As I said, we go to war," Lynd shrugged. "Wasn't that the plan all along? We were already preparing to attack Wyl. We just needed an excuse. Originally, we intended to use the wildling tribes colluding with Wyl and invading my territory as a justification, but now that's unnecessary. Who would have thought that Wyland Wyl would be foolish enough to send people into my lands to stir up trouble and get caught doing it? Why waste such a perfect excuse?"

Nymeria opened her mouth, but for a moment, she didn't know what to say. It seemed to her that Lynd had grown a little too confident from his recent string of successes. He was becoming more casual in his decisions, no longer as cautious or deliberate as before. She wanted to advise him, to caution him against recklessness, but she hesitated, not wanting to dampen his spirits.

Lynd seemed to read her thoughts. He took her hand and smiled. "Don't worry, I haven't let success get to my head. Though I acted a bit impulsively this time, I haven't deviated from my plan. This is also a good opportunity to test Lord Wyl's limits by pushing him."

Hearing this, Nymeria nodded. She put the matter out of her mind, picked up her battle-axe, and stepped outside to train again with the knights from Blackhaven.

Compared to the hedge knights she had recruited in Tumbleton, the knights from Blackhaven were more disciplined and adept at coordinating their troops in battle formations. They put far more pressure on her, which was precisely why she had spent the past two days using their formations to sharpen her own experience against organized knightly tactics.

That night, Dacey and the others arrived at Gale Tower, bringing with them the prisoners from Castle Wyl.

Lynd ordered the men from Blackhaven to take the prisoners to Blackhaven for imprisonment, with instructions to transfer them back once the necessary facilities in his territory were completed.

Although Lothor and Dacey had managed to eliminate over a thousand soldiers defending Wyl Castle, they had suffered more than seventy casualties in the process—hardly an impressive battle record in Lynd's eyes.

The soldiers they had fought in Wyl had not been the full garrison of a thousand men. Instead, the forces had been spread across more than ten villages, with only 100 to 200 soldiers stationed in each at most. In contrast, Lynd's forces had 400 to 500 well-trained cavalry—an overwhelming numerical and tactical advantage.

And yet, despite this superiority, they had still suffered over seventy casualties. The result was far from ideal. Fortunately, only three had been killed in battle, while the rest had sustained varying degrees of injury.

Lynd had several officers go over the battle from start to finish, analyzing every decision, every maneuver, to determine where their command had faltered. He did not just want fierce warriors who could charge headlong into battle; he needed commanders capable of strategy and tactical leadership.

As they reviewed the battle late into the night, a camp guard suddenly rushed in with urgent news.

An envoy from the wildling tribes had arrived, requesting an audience with Lynd.

The moment he heard this, Lynd paused, a sense of familiarity washing over him. It made him think.