Chapter 46: The Lord’s Decision

Perhaps he had already come to believe in the Seven, for when Varys now heard Lynd mention the gods, he felt no strange reaction.

Afterward, the two men discussed how they would meet and communicate in the future, and Varys was about to leave. However, as he walked toward the place where he had entered, he suddenly stopped in his tracks, his body tensing as though startled by something.

From the shadows, a Shadowcat with white fur and black markings emerged slowly. It circled around, letting out a low growl at Varys, ready to pounce at any moment.

"Glory," Lynd snapped sharply at the Shadowcat.

The creature, which had been menacingly aggressive, immediately became more docile. It no longer targeted Varys, though it continued to bare its teeth as it passed him. Glory then walked straight to Lynd's feet, rubbed its neck against Lynd's shin a few times, and raised its head forcefully. Sticking out its tongue, it licked Lynd's hand before resting its head there, clearly asking for attention.

Lynd obliged, rubbing Glory's head briefly, prompting a satisfied purr from the Shadowcat. Then, without sparing Varys a glance, Lynd focused on inspecting Glory's physical condition.

Perhaps due to absorbing the energy of the resentful spirits in the Dragonpit, Glory's body had more than doubled in size. When it stood upright, it was almost level with Lynd's knees, making it impossible to carry in the cloth pocket as he had before. Its fur now gleamed with vitality, the whites appearing brighter and the blacks deeper. The patterns on its coat had grown sharper, and the markings on its head faintly resembled an irregular skull, adding a sinister air to its appearance.

"It's the Shadowcat you got from the Kingswood, isn't it?" Varys asked, finally speaking after the tense moment had passed. His curiosity was evident as he looked at Glory. "Did the female Shadowcat really give it to you?"

"No," Lynd replied, shaking his head. "A Child of the Forest gave it to me."

"Child of the Forest?" Varys echoed, startled. After a moment of thought, he added, "I've heard of her. She often appears in the villages around Kingswood, healing the sick. Many people consider her a deity and offer sacrifices."

"Deities?" Lynd murmured, surprised. Then he recalled the magical abilities displayed by the Child of the Forest named Spark. Considering her powers, it wasn't unbelievable that the villagers regarded her as divine.

Varys studied Glory briefly before shifting his gaze back to Lynd. "Did you know that in Asshai, the albino Shadowcat is considered the envoy of the Lion of Night? It's said to often accompany the Son of the Lion of Night and the Maiden-Made-of-Light, the God-on-Earth." He paused, then added pointedly, "By the way, my lord, I don't like magic, and I don't like gods. Please don't speak to me about these things again."

Without waiting for a response, Varys turned and walked back down the same corridor he had entered, leaving Lynd standing there.

Lynd frowned slightly, taking note of Varys' clear distaste. He grabbed the loose skin at the back of Glory's neck, lifting the Shadowcat to face him. Looking into its dark, gleaming eyes, he muttered, "God-on-Earth."

The tournament celebrating the birth of the Baratheon dynasty's heir had concluded successfully, though the outcome was unexpected. The victor was neither Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, nor Barristan the Bold, but a foreign knight from the Free Cities Alliance across the Narrow Sea.

His name was notoriously difficult to pronounce, laden with sounds unfamiliar to the common tongue. The translator, struggling to convey it, simplified it to just two syllables: Balin.

Yet, after the competition, Knight Balin vanished along with his prize of 50,000 golden dragons. Speculation abounded, with many fearing for his safety. The real question on everyone's lips, however, was who had ultimately claimed the fortune he left behind.

After the Tournament of Champions concluded, warriors, knights, and sellswords from across the land departed King's Landing one after another. However, their exodus did not signal the end of chaos—it merely spread it further afield.

Only a small fraction of the assembled fighters were hired by caravans to escort them to their destinations. The majority, having spent their last coins on a life of indulgence during the festivities, were left penniless, their pockets emptier than their dirt-streaked faces. Without resources to pay for their return journeys, most of these individuals turned to banditry. While they dared not plunder within the immediate reach of King's Landing, they became increasingly brazen as they ventured farther away.

This sudden surge in banditry created a cascade of problems. Nobles who had come to King's Landing to partake in or observe the tournament were inundated with letters from their respective territories, all pleading for assistance in dealing with the escalating violence. As a result, many nobles found themselves unable to depart King's Landing promptly, forced instead to grapple with the disorder plaguing their lands.

The Tyrells, too, received troubling reports of increased bandit activity in The Reach. Yet, Lord Tyrell remained unfazed. Banditry in The Reach was not a new phenomenon; it had persisted for over a year. In his view, the rise of new bandits might even prove beneficial, as rival groups would inevitably fight for territory, potentially stabilizing the region.

Nonetheless, the Tyrells could not afford to ignore the situation entirely. Just the previous day, they had finalized lucrative trade agreements with representatives from King's Landing, the Westerlands, the Riverlands, the Vale, and the North. These agreements promised substantial profits and the restoration of normal trade within The Reach, but only if the roads were made safe from bandits and the lingering remnants of the Targaryen loyalists were eliminated.

The bandits south of Bitterbridge posed little challenge; the local lords could cooperate to eradicate them with relative ease. However, the northern regions, stretching from Bitterbridge to the Kingswood, were a different matter entirely. The terrain was treacherous, dotted with caves and dense forests that provided ample hiding places. Even a large army would struggle to flush out the bandits, who could simply retreat into the Kingswood and emerge once the soldiers had withdrawn.

To complicate matters further, the region was home to wild tribes who fiercely resisted outsiders. Any attempt to subdue the bandits could easily escalate into a conflict with these tribes, further taxing the resources of any force sent into the area.

At a meeting held to address the issue, Maester Mollos proposed a three-pronged strategy. Two groups would consist of cavalry, each numbering around 500 men, drawn from House Tyrell and allied lords. Their primary responsibility would be to patrol The Roseroad and establish outposts at strategic locations. These outposts would be manned permanently, providing safe havens for traveling caravans and ensuring the roads remained secure.

The third group would operate north of Bitterbridge, tasked with eliminating the bandits entirely. This force would be commanded by a capable knight, but unlike the patrols, its funding would be partially self-raised. House Tyrell and the allied lords would contribute a portion of the expenses, but the knight leading the effort would need to secure additional resources independently.

When Maester Mollos presented his plan, one of the nobles voiced skepticism. "Who would willingly undertake such a task? It requires not only significant effort and personal expense but also risks life."

Lord Tyrell replied confidently, "Someone will take it on because the rewards will outweigh the risks. I am prepared to grant an estate and a village to the knight who succeeds in eradicating the bandits, elevating him to the status of a landed knight."

The room grew silent as the implications of Lord Tyrell's offer sank in. Many of the assembled nobles were courtiers from Highgarden, possessing only nominal titles and limited influence. The prospect of inheritable land—a manor and a village—was a tantalizing prize. Though modest in value and requiring significant investment to develop, such a reward represented a path to true nobility, a distinction they all coveted.

Excitement rippled through the tent, but it was short-lived. The nobles quickly sobered, recalling the high risks involved. Reports of prior expeditions to clear the bandits painted a grim picture. Bitterbridge had once sent over 500 soldiers to the region; fewer than 100 returned. King's Landing and Storm's End had deployed thousands, yet their efforts yielded little beyond a few slain deer and no meaningful progress.

Now, with Lord Tyrell offering only partial support and leaving much of the responsibility to the knight who accepted the task, the endeavor seemed even more daunting. The difficulties were clear: inadequate funding, insufficient manpower, and the perilous terrain all but guaranteed failure—or worse. None of the nobles dared volunteer, unwilling to gamble their lives for a prize that might never be realized.

The Lord of Tyrell's gaze swept over the silent court nobles, each avoiding his eyes with bowed heads. A flicker of annoyance crossed his face, and he addressed his attendant curtly. "Gather all the knights in the camp. I trust one among them will meet my expectations." Turning his attention to Ser Vortimer, he asked pointedly, "And you? What about you, Ser Vortimer? If you don't try, it will just be another piece of land for House Crane, will it not?"

"My lord, modesty is a rare quality in me," Vortimer replied with a wry smile. Despite his composed demeanor, he had already dismissed the idea of accepting the task.

While the prospect of expanding his house's holdings was tempting, the risks were far too great. Failure would deal a fatal blow to House Crane, and Vortimer prioritized preserving its strength over ambitious, reckless endeavors.

Besides, Vortimer had an alternative plan. He believed Lynd was better suited to the dangerous mission. If Lynd succeeded in becoming a landed knight, his connection with House Crane would provide the family with valuable external support, an outcome just as beneficial without the direct risk.

At the opposite end of the camp, Lynd rolled up the final blueprint for the missing piece of the Banished Knight's armor. Placing it inside a hollow wooden shaft, he handed it to the little bird sent by Varys to deliver the design. The alliance he had forged with Varys the previous day was, in Lynd's estimation, one of his greatest accomplishments since arriving in King's Landing.

Through Varys, Lynd could keep abreast of developments not only in King's Landing but also across the Seven Kingdoms. Most importantly, Varys had the means to secure Dragonbones from the Red Keep's storerooms, an invaluable resource for Lynd's Dragon Communion Ritual.

While Lynd had manipulated Varys with carefully woven truths and falsehoods, he knew Varys would eventually scrutinize his words. For this reason, Lynd sought ways to deepen and solidify their relationship, ensuring mutual benefit and trust.

As Lynd considered his next steps, he felt Glory nuzzling against his legs, occasionally licking his palm. He stroked the Shadowcat's head affectionately and led it out of the tent. The moment they stepped outside, Lynd noticed the shocked expressions on the faces of those nearby. Their gazes were fixed not on him but on Glory.

The transformation Glory had undergone was unmistakable. The previous night, its size had doubled; by this morning, it had doubled again. Though not yet fully grown, the Shadowcat now matched the size of a foal, a growth rate unheard of. Rumors had already spread through the camp, with some claiming to have seen a monstrous creature with white fur and black stripes near the Dragonpit. Combining this sighting with the legends of the albino Shadowcat and the numerous vengeful spirits said to haunt the Dragonpit, many speculated that Glory's transformation was linked to its consumption of these spirits. Fear of the Shadowcat had only grown.

When Lynd heard these rumors from Raul, he couldn't help but smirk at the accuracy of their speculation. Instead of dispelling the rumors, he chose to let them linger. A touch of mystery, he reasoned, could work in his favor.

His primary focus, however, remained on understanding the changes in Glory. The night before, Lynd had begun a series of tests to assess the Shadowcat's newfound abilities. He discovered that Glory's strength and speed had increased significantly. Though still slightly smaller than an adult Shadowcat, Glory was now capable of holding its own against a fully grown warrior like Raul.

In addition to its physical improvements, Glory had grown noticeably more intelligent. It now understood and obeyed Lynd's commands more effectively. Without explicit orders, it refrained from attacking, though anyone foolish enough to approach recklessly was still at risk.

The most intriguing development was the emergence of a Mental Bond between Lynd and Glory. On occasion, Lynd could issue commands from a distance or even possess Glory in a Skinchanger-like state, observing through its eyes. Unfortunately, this ability was sporadic and difficult to control.

Despite these discoveries, Lynd suspected there were further changes in Glory yet to be uncovered. Determined to continue his observations, he decided to venture into the surrounding woods for more tests.

"Lord Lynd, wait a moment."

As Lynd prepared to leave the camp, a voice called out behind him. Turning, he saw the squire of Lord Tyrell approaching.

"Is something the matter?" Lynd asked.

The squire bowed respectfully. "His Lordship requests your presence at the main camp."

Lynd nodded and began to follow but paused to ask, "Am I the only one?"

"No, my lord. All knights in the camp have been summoned," the squire replied.