CHAPTER 166
Seagard, the harbor.
After Garon sent men to notify the soldiers stationed in the fishing village by the port, he walked with Ron and Rodrik Harlaw onto the sandy shore. Quietly, he observed the fishing village ahead and Seagard rising behind it.
Unlike Ron, who stood respectfully behind Garon, Rodrik Harlaw faithfully played his assigned role, standing several paces away from him. The distance between them was deliberate. No one looking at them would mistake them for close allies.
As the waves rolled gently onto the shore, Garon stood with the sea breeze at his back, silently recalling everything he knew about Seagard.
Seagard was a fortress built by House Mallister to defend the western coast against Ironborn raids. Within its walls stood the famous Booming Tower, whose immense bronze bell had warned the Riverlands of Ironborn attacks for centuries. Whenever longships appeared upon Ironman's Bay, the bell would ring, summoning fishermen, farmers, and villagers to seek shelter behind the castle walls.
The castle belonged to House Mallister.
Its current lord was Jason Mallister, one of Riverrun's most loyal bannermen.
In the original timeline, after the Red Wedding, Black Walder Frey seized Jason Mallister's son and forced Lord Jason to surrender Seagard. Father and son were both imprisoned within their own castle afterward.
"The Mallisters can be won over."
"But after generations of fighting the Ironborn, their hatred for the Iron Islands runs deep."
"I'll have to carefully manage the relationship between both sides."
Garon glanced sideways at Rodrik, who was still mentally preparing for the performance they had planned, and could not help sighing inwardly.
Ever since the Andals crossed the Narrow Sea, the feudal order of Westeros had remained almost unchanged.
A lord's son inherited lordship.
A farmer's son remained a farmer.
Even when a noble house lacked male heirs, daughters could preserve the family line through marriage.
As a result, countless noble families had endured for thousands of years.
Their alliances, rivalries, marriages, betrayals, and blood feuds had become hopelessly tangled over the centuries.
Families who had once slaughtered each other might become steadfast allies generations later, only to turn into bitter enemies again.
Everything was intertwined.
Except for the Iron Islands.
Thanks to the Ironborn's Old Way of reaving and raiding, scarcely any kingdom in Westeros held affection for them.
From Dorne in the south to the North beyond the Neck, nearly every great house had reason to despise the Ironborn.
Yet despite making enemies across the continent, the Iron Islands had survived for thousands of years.
Garon could only marvel at the strange balance of Westeros.
Just then, distant hoofbeats interrupted his thoughts.
He focused his gaze and saw a knight wearing gray plate armor riding toward the shore, followed by a dozen soldiers bearing the purple eagle banner of House Mallister.
A few minutes later, the mounted knight halted before the three men.
Without immediately dismounting, he spoke first.
"I am Ser Petyr Frey, captain of Seagard's garrison."
"Which of you is Lord Glover?"
Petyr Frey's eyes swept over Rodrik Harlaw in his unmistakable Ironborn attire before settling upon Garon, whose smoky black Valyrian steel scale armor gleamed beneath the morning sun, one hand resting upon the hilt of his sword.
"Frey..."
A trace of surprise flashed across Garon's eyes.
Studying the melancholy young knight, he vaguely remembered who this man was.
After a brief pause, Garon nodded.
"In the name of House Glover of Deepwood Motte, I am Garon Glover."
He continued calmly.
"I have come south under King Robb Stark's command to reinforce the Riverlands."
"Why has Lord Jason Mallister not come himself?"
Petyr glanced toward the fleet anchored in Ironman's Bay.
Rather than answering, he asked sharply,
"Lord Glover, why are you sailing alongside Ironborn?"
"Has House Glover bent the knee to the Iron Islands?"
As he spoke, his hand quietly settled upon the hilt of his sword.
If Garon's answer displeased him, he looked ready to order his men into battle immediately.
Noticing the movement, Garon guessed Jason Mallister's concerns and calmly explained.
"Ser Petyr, you've misunderstood."
"House Glover has always been loyal to the North."
"Why would we ever swear fealty to the Iron Islands?"
Petyr visibly relaxed.
Just as he prepared to ask another question, Garon's next words nearly made him fall from his saddle.
"King Balon Greyjoy was murdered by his brother Euron Greyjoy, who usurped the Seastone Chair."
"Lady Asha Greyjoy has since entered into an alliance with the North."
"By order of King Robb Stark, I led my forces to help Queen Asha overthrow the kinslayer."
"Now that Euron has fallen, Queen Asha has sent Lord Rodrik Harlaw to accompany me to Riverrun and meet King Robb."
"What?!"
Petyr exclaimed before Garon had even finished speaking.
His grip tightened instinctively upon the reins.
His startled horse reared violently, nearly throwing him onto the sand.
"Easy... easy..."
After calming the frightened mount, Petyr looked at Garon with utter disbelief.
"Lord Glover..."
"Are you saying... you led Northern soldiers across the sea..."
"Captured Pyke..."
"And slew Euron Greyjoy?"
Garon nodded calmly.
"Exactly."
Petyr still found it impossible to believe.
He glanced toward the fleet once more and quickly estimated its strength.
There could not be more than two thousand men aboard all those ships.
Subtracting the Ironborn contingent, House Glover had likely crossed the sea with little more than a thousand Northmen.
Just that many men...
Had dared attack Pyke?
"Impossible..."
Petyr scoffed inwardly.
Instead of lowering his guard, he became even more suspicious.
Just then, Rodrik Harlaw let out a heavy snort.
"Hmph."
"So this is how the Riverlands welcomes its allies?"
He turned toward Garon with deliberate annoyance.
"Lord Garon."
"If we're not wanted here, I'll take my men back to the Iron Islands immediately."
"So impatient..."
Garon deliberately frowned before shooting Rodrik a warning glance.
He interrupted sternly.
"Queen Asha swore her alliance before gods and men."
"Does House Harlaw intend to dishonor her oath?"
"Lord Rodrik, remember."
"I command this expedition."
Rodrik merely laughed coldly without answering.
Watching the exchange, Petyr froze.
The obvious friction between the two made Garon's story seem increasingly believable.
"He really captured Pyke?"
Petyr remained unconvinced.
The thought simply defied reason.
Only ten years earlier, King Robert Baratheon had united the North, the Riverlands, the Westerlands, the Reach, the Stormlands, and the royal fleet before Balon Greyjoy finally surrendered.
Now Garon claimed that House Glover alone had taken Pyke?
"Impossible."
"Absolutely impossible."
Even so, Petyr refused to believe the tale completely.
Surely something had been omitted.
Garon paid little attention to whether the Frey believed him.
Seeing that Jason Mallister himself lacked the courage to come and receive them, he quietly shook his head.
The actors were ready.
The stage had been prepared.
Yet the audience refused to appear.
There was no point continuing the performance.
"Ser Petyr."
"Please inform Lord Jason."
"If he doubts my identity, he may send a raven to King Robb Stark for confirmation."
"But the war cannot wait."
"I intend to march for Riverrun immediately."
"I ask only that Lord Jason safeguard our ships and provide a guide."
Petyr hesitated briefly before nodding.
"Lord Glover."
"Please wait here."
"I'll report everything to Lord Jason at once."
Garon inclined his head, signaling him to return as quickly as possible.
Petyr wheeled his horse around and galloped back toward Seagard.
More than ten minutes later, he returned.
His expression was noticeably darker than before.
The moment he approached Garon, he spoke through gritted teeth.
"Lord Glover."
"Lord Jason says he will first send a raven to Riverrun for confirmation."
"If your words prove true, he will personally see that your fleet is supplied and protected."
He paused before continuing with obvious reluctance.
"And..."
"He has assigned me to serve as your guide, my lord."
Garon paused for a moment.
A faint smile appeared in his eyes as though he understood exactly what had happened within Seagard's walls.
Then he nodded politely.
"In that case..."
"I shall trouble you, Ser Petyr."
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