Game of Thrones: Knight’s Honor

Over the next few days, Lynd and Nymeria received the mayors and elders of the village camps who had hurried over after receiving the summons.

Although their nominal lord was Lord Wyland Wyl of Wyl, the one who now controlled the lifeline of their lands was Lynd. Naturally, their loyalty to the former lord had faded into irrelevance.

Faced with Lynd's demand for allegiance, none dared to object. One after another, they eagerly swore their oaths of loyalty.

They also accepted Lynd's tax policies without hesitation. The taxes imposed by Wyl had been exorbitantly high, and by comparison, Lynd's new rates seemed almost charitable.

Within days, every village and fishing settlement along the entire coastline of the Cape Wrath, from the mouth of the Wyl River to the mouth of the Red Watch River, had sworn allegiance to Lord Lynd. This included 43 villages and six fishing villages. Among them, nine villages and two fishing settlements had been established after Stonehelm Castle had occupied part of the territory.

These newly discovered settlements had not been part of the initial plan. Lothor, unfamiliar with the terrain, had relied on young villagers as guides, but they lost their way and unknowingly traveled too far. By the time they realized their mistake, they had reached the mouth of the Red Watch River and stood directly opposite Stonehelm Castle.

Along the way, they had read Lord Lynd's proclamations in every village they encountered. Some village chiefs and elders, well aware that the land they cultivated technically belonged to another lord, had been living in fear of being expelled. In their anxiety, they too had come to swear allegiance. As for the settlements near Stonehelm Castle, the matter was kept quiet for the time being, leaving it for the lords to resolve amongst themselves.

Lynd paid no mind to the cautious maneuvering of these lowly villagers. More importantly, their presence provided valuable information about the situation on the Red Watch River side. He instructed them to return to their villages and spread the word that the Chosen One, Lynd Tarran, had become the Lord of the Red Watch and Summerhall regions. Those who had not yet sworn allegiance were warned to do so soon—otherwise, by the time Lynd's forces arrived at their doorstep, the matter of taxes would be handled far less favorably.

That night, the Wildling King arrived at the outskirts of the village camp with a dozen people in tow. Among them was a petite woman.

"I didn't think you could take the Bone Bridge so easily," the Wildling King remarked upon seeing Lynd again, his tone carrying noticeably more respect than during their first meeting.

It was no mystery why his attitude had changed. After learning how Lynd had seized control of the Bone Bridge, he had gained a new understanding of Lynd's strength.

Although only a few days had passed, the Blackhaven knights who had accompanied Lynd had already reported back to Blackhaven about the events at Bone Bridge and their aftermath. In the town's taverns, bards had composed songs recounting the battle, detailing how Lynd's knights had annihilated thousands of Wyl's garrison troops.

Perhaps due to the similarities, some had already begun drawing comparisons between Lynd's actions at Bone Bridge and the infamous incident in which Lord Tywin had sent singers to pressure the Lord of Fair Isle. Whispers had started circulating that the Chosen One, Lynd Tarran, now wielded the same kind of authority that Tywin Lannister once had—that he could achieve his objectives without even raising a sword, simply by speaking a few words.

"How many people have you brought with you this time?" Lynd asked the Wildling King directly, without any preamble.

The Wildling King replied, "Fifty people, all of them the strongest warriors of the tribes."

Lynd frowned. "Are fifty people enough? Wyland Wyl should have many knights protecting him, shouldn't he?"

The Wildling King, exuding confidence, said, "That is enough. As long as you can distract the soldiers guarding the outside, my men will be able to deal with the knights around him."

Lynd nodded and pointed to Lothor Brune, who stood beside him. "In that case, I will have him lead the men to cooperate with you. You can discuss the specific implementation method with him."

The Wildling King's expression shifted. "Wait, you're not coming personally...?" he asked hastily.

"There's no need for me to get involved in something like this. He is more than enough," Lynd said with certainty. "If you doubt his strength, feel free to test him. I don't think anyone among you can defeat him in a one-on-one fight."

As soon as Lynd spoke, murmurs spread through the wildling warriors. One of them immediately stepped forward, eager to challenge Lothor.

Lothor, expressionless, positioned himself opposite the challenger. As the wildling warrior reached for his weapon to attack, Lothor's long sword was already drawn, striking the challenger's cheek with the spine of the blade and sending him crashing to the ground.

The watching wildlings had barely seen Lothor move. The speed with which he had drawn his sword was nothing but a blur. And he had only used the spine of the blade—had he used the edge, the wildling warrior would have been beheaded.

The gathered warriors exchanged uneasy glances. None among them could match that speed. Even the Wildling King, after assessing the situation, knew that if he stepped in himself, he still might not be able to defeat Lothor. Any dissatisfaction he had felt about Lynd not personally joining the attack quickly dissipated.

"My lord, how many people will you send to assist us?" the Wildling King asked again.

"Seven hundred of my best warriors," Lynd said.

Hearing this number, the Wildling King had nothing more to say. Lynd's cavalry had already proven themselves—hundreds of his men had defeated thousands of Wyl Castle's garrison troops with minimal casualties. With over seven hundred of them aiding the attack, even if Wyland Wyl was protected by thousands of soldiers, victory was assured.

After entrusting the operation to Lothor, Lynd turned toward the tent that had been prepared for the future Lady of Wyl.

Inside, Nymeria's twin female attendants were washing the woman and changing her clothes, while Nymeria, Jon, and the Maester from Blackhaven were carefully reviewing the identification documents.

The Maester meticulously examined each document, checking every signature from the Citadel's records and verifying the seals on the birth certificates.

After finishing his review, the Maester nodded to Lynd. "My lord, there are no problems. These documents are in order. As long as the remaining records from the Citadel match correctly, the identity of this Lady Wyl can be confirmed."

Jon, who had been going through a pile of letters, looked up. "There is nothing wrong with these letters either. They prove that Lord Wyland Wyl placed her in the care of Ser Roman." He hesitated slightly before adding, "However, some letters appear to be missing from the sequence. I don't know if the missing ones are important."

Lynd recalled the scattered letters Glory had seen in the Wildling King's camp. "The missing ones are unimportant, and their content has nothing to do with her."

With that, he instructed Jon to carefully store the documents and then led the Maester downstairs to rest.

The noblewoman was good-looking and elegant, a clear indication of the fine education she had received under her foster father at Yronwood Castle.

Though she appeared timid, keeping her head lowered and wearing a fearful expression, there was more to her than her delicate figure suggested. Despite her seemingly frail appearance, the well-defined muscle lines on her bare arms betrayed the physique of a warrior.

Lynd did not comment on her hidden strength but instead asked directly, "Do you know who you are?"

"Yes, my lord," the woman said in a deep voice. "I am Obella Wyl, daughter of Lord Wyland Wyl of Castle Wyl, and my foster father was Harmen Sand, captain of the men-at-arms at Yronwood Castle."

"How were you captured by the barbarian king, Hamir?" Lynd asked again.

Obella Wyl answered without hesitation, her voice calm and steady, as though recounting someone else's misfortune. "Two years ago, my foster father and I were hiking near Yronwood Castle when we were attacked by wildlings. My adoptive father was killed, and I was unable to resist. I was taken captive and brought into the mountains."

Although Obella spoke with detachment, as if the events no longer affected her, Lynd could see the hatred she harbored for the Wildling King, Hamir.

Lynd did not press her further about her time among the wildlings but instead stated plainly, "If all goes according to plan, your father will pass away within the next two days. I will send you back to Wyl to inherit his title and lands."

At those words, Obella suddenly lifted her head for the first time, her wide eyes locking onto Lynd in shock.

"When you inherit the territory, I hope you will agree to sign a defensive alliance with me," Lynd continued. "Of course, you may choose not to. I won't force you. I only ask that you do not provoke me and that you rule Wyl peacefully as its Lady. Do you understand, Lady Obella?"

Yes, my lord," Obella said quickly, nodding. Then, after a brief pause, she looked between Lynd and Nymeria before hesitantly asking, "I still don't know your identities..."

"I am Lord Lynd Tarran of Summerhall, and this land of Red Watch is also my territory," Lynd said, introducing himself before gesturing toward Nymeria. "She is Lady Nymeria Footly of Tumbleton."

It was clear that Obella had been completely cut off from the outside world during her two years of captivity and knew nothing of Lynd, one of the most talked-about figures in the Seven Kingdoms. However, when she heard Nymeria's title, her expression subtly changed.

Her reaction made it evident that in her education, Tumbleton had been regarded as a fallen and disgraced territory.

Obella turned her gaze back to Lynd, dressed in the armor of a Banished Knight, and suddenly made a bold decision. "My lord, I wish to form an alliance with you, so that your territory and my future lands may be joined together."

Lynd froze for a moment, studying Obella. It did not take long for him to discern the true reason behind her sudden proposal. The fear and insecurity caused by her two years of imprisonment had not faded—she was terrified of being taken captive again and sought an alliance as a layer of protection.

Just as Lynd was about to refuse, Nymeria, who had also perceived Obella's true motives, spoke first. "Lord Lynd will not marry into your family, and you need not worry about us going back on our word. In your eyes, Wyl may seem powerful, but to us, it is insignificant."

Obella did not give up. She had already observed the dynamic between Lynd and Nymeria and had not expected to marry Lynd himself. Instead, she quickly adjusted her approach and said, "Then I am willing to marry one of Ser Lynd's men, forging an even closer alliance."

Her desperation was evident. The terrors of her captivity had left her unwilling to trust mere words. She needed something concrete—something binding—to assure her safety.

Lynd frowned upon hearing this and was about to refute the proposal, but before he could speak, Nymeria nodded in approval. "This is also a good choice," she said, then gestured toward the men around them. "Everyone who stands here is considered one of Lynd's closest confidants. You may choose for yourself. As long as they agree, you will be arranged to marry."

Hearing Nymeria's words, Obella let out a visible sigh of relief. She then looked around at the gathered men, her eyes lingering momentarily on Jon. From his actions earlier, it was clear that he was one of Lynd's most trusted subordinates. Choosing Jon would have been a strong and secure decision, ensuring her position.

But for some reason, Obella did not choose Jon. Her gaze shifted to Russell, who stood beside him, and after a brief hesitation, she pointed at Russell. "I choose him."

Russell was completely stunned. He had never expected to be chosen. Among Lynd's many knights, his appearance was at best unremarkable, and his years of wandering had aged him beyond his actual years. He did not look like the kind of man a future Lady of Wyl would set her sights on.

Caught off guard, Russell remained frozen, unable to speak for a long moment. It wasn't until Nymeria directly asked him if he was willing to marry Obella that he finally snapped out of his shock. Without any hesitation, he nodded. "Yes, of course I am willing."

No normal man would refuse such an offer. For a knight of humble origins like Russell, this was an opportunity to rise beyond his station. And he had been waiting for such an opportunity for a long time—he just hadn't expected it to come so soon. Only a year of following Lynd had brought him to this moment.

Seeing that Russell had agreed, Lynd had nothing more to say on the matter. Turning to Jon, he ordered, "Tell the Septons in Blackhaven to send a Septon here. They can be married in the camp within the next two days."

"There's no need to go to all that trouble," Nymeria interjected, pointing at Lynd. "You've forgotten—you are the chosen one of the Seven Gods. You are also qualified to officiate the marriage."