Chapter 14

Crossing the tributary of the River Mander, Samwell and his party saw a tall limestone castle. The mottled city walls are covered with moss and creepers, silently telling the wind and frost what this ancient castle has seen. On top of the hundreds of feet of the castle tower, a white flag was flying, bearing the coat of arms of House Mullendore: a flock of black and orange butterflies.

This is the lord of Upland , House Mullendall.

After passing this city and walking southwest for a short distance, one can imagine finding the Red Mountains. It is conceivable that if Samwell successfully establishes a territory in the Red Mountains in the future, House Mullendore will be his neighbors. Therefore, in order to establish a good relationship with his future neighbors, Samwell did not choose to go around the city, but instead sent Gavin to Upland City to deliver a formal letter of greeting on his behalf.

"Samwell Caesar "

In the castle, Viscount Martyn Mullendore held the greeting letter handed over by Gavin, with a playful smile on his face. "Is that the pioneer knight conferred by a woman?"

Gavin bowed slightly, turned, and said in a neither humble nor overbearing tone: "Dear Viscount, Sir Samwell is indeed a pioneer knight canonized by Lady Margaery, the daughter of Duke Mace, on behalf of her father. He is also an official vassal of House Tyrell."

Viscount Martyn curled his lips and said, "So, he is indeed a knight canonized by a woman."

Gavin lowered his head and did not answer.

Viscount Martyn snorted softly and then lazily said, "Very well, allow him to enter."

Gavin bowed and left silently.

Viscount Martyn ordered the butler beside him, "Let the kitchen prepare dinner. It doesn't have to be too rich, just decent."

"Of course, sir."

"Father, is this the useless eldest son of the Tarly family?" Viscount Martyn's eldest son, Mark Mullendore, asked.

This person was tall and has a beard. There was also a black and white monkey sitting on his shoulder, which was concentrating on breaking the nuts in his hand.

"That's right. Randyll Tarly is a character, but it's a pity he gave birth to such a useless son. Now he has finally made up his mind to abolish Samwell's inheritance rights, but I didn't expect him to use such a method. Go to the Red Mountains to develop... Hehe, it's better to send him to the Wall."

Mark shrugged and said, "If I had to choose, I'd definitely choose to explore rather than go to the ghostly place 'the Wall'."

Viscount Martyn glanced at his son, smiled, and said, "Do you also think that pioneering is an easy thing?"

"Of course not , I know that pioneering is difficult, but isn't the Wall obviously worse?"

"The White Walkers?" Viscount Martyn sneered, "It's just a legend to lie to children. It's been thousands of years, has anyone seen the White Walkers? As for the cold, it's summer now, and the Wall isn't that cold."

"But winter is coming sooner or later."

"Who knows. It's been so long this summer hasn't come to an end, and maybe it will last longer. Only those northern savages who worship wood will keep shouting nervously 'winter is coming'."

Mark seemed to think of something and suddenly said, "Father, do you think this will be the eternal summer promised by the Seven Gods to the world, and there will be no more winter?"

"The Seven Gods said that when the sins of the world appear at the end, a savior will come. So, what do you think the sins of the world are?"

Mark shook his head, scratching his cheeks and lost in thought. The monkey on his shoulder also followed his master's example and began to think about monkey life.

At this time, the sound of neat footsteps sounded outside the castle.

Mark walked to the balcony curiously, looked out, and saw a team of about two hundred people walking into the castle through the drawbridge.

"Father! Come and see!"

Hearing his son's shout, Viscount Martyn walked out slowly: "What's the matter?"

Mark pointed to the pioneering team below with a shocked expression and asked, "Are you sure this Samwell is a trash abandoned by his family?"

Viscount Martyn was also stunned because more than two hundred well-equipped soldiers in front of him had really surprised him.

It has to be said that Samwell's military training for more than two months had been quite effective. The more than one hundred newly recruited soldiers, at least on the surface, were not much different from elite veterans.

Of course, this group of recruits would definitely reveal their lack of experience if they worked with real swords and spears.

After all, they had not experienced the test of blood and fire.

But because Samwell had been piling up equipment and feeding them meat regardless of the cost, these recruits were enough to scare most people.

So in Viscount Martyn's opinion, this well-known waste in the river bend was actually leading an elite army of more than two hundred people!

This was already an armed force that could not be ignored.

You know, the standing army in Upland City was only more than 300 people.

Of course, the Mullendore family still had more than a dozen vassal knights, and if they recruited a group of farmers, Viscount Martyn could even gather an army of 3,000 people at most.

He definitely would not be afraid of the 200-man development team in front of him.

However, he was the majestic lord of the Upland city, but the opposite was just a pioneer knight who did not even have a territory!

Such a comparison, even if he won, would make Viscount Martyn feel ashamed.

"Where did he get so many elite soldiers!" Viscount Martin gritted his teeth.

The original disdain and contempt for Samwell quickly turned into a kind of jealousy that even he himself could not explain clearly.

Mark settled down and guessed, "Could they have been given to him by Earl Randyll?"

"How many regular troops are there in Horn Hill? Can you allocate so many to a waste who has been expelled from the family?"

Mark scratched his head. Earl Randyll definitely could, but it was impossible to be extravagant enough to allocate so many elite soldiers to a waste to develop.

If these soldiers were buried in the Red Mountains, the strength of the Tarly family would definitely be greatly reduced.

After thinking for a moment, Mark asked again, "Could it be the army given to him by the Tyrell family?"

In his opinion, only the rich and powerful Duke of Highgarden would be willing to hand over such an elite army to a "trash".

Viscount Martyn rolled his eyes and replied, "Would Duke Mace be willing to send such an army for him to explore when he's not even willing to canonize this guy himself?"

Mark also felt that it made sense when he heard this and immediately started scratching his head again.

The monkey on his shoulder seemed to sense his master's annoyance and started jumping up and down.

Viscount Martyn stared at the pioneering team for a while, then went downstairs without saying a word.

Mark quickly followed.

The father and son arrived at the gate of the castle. At this time, the steward brought bread and salt with his attendants.

This is a sacred contract that has been passed down in Westeros for thousands of years - guest rights.

When a guest comes to be a guest under the eaves of the host and accepts the bread and salt provided by the host, the guest's rights come into effect immediately, and the two parties must not harm each other, otherwise they will not be tolerated by the old and new gods.

Samwell picked up a small piece of bread, dipped it in some salt, put it in his mouth, then put his hand on his chest and bowed slightly to Viscount Martyn , saying: "Lord Mullendore, thank you for your hospitality!"

Viscount Martyn's face was filled with an extremely sincere smile as he replied, "Your Excellency Caesar, welcome to Upland City !"

[END]