-57- A beautiful misunderstanding

Gallen: "...."

Gallen sighed inwardly. Ignorant and barbaric, that's the impression most people have of Crackclaw Point.

As descendants of the First Men, they are skilled in combat, largely due to the harsh environment they've endured for generations.

When the Andals brought the Faith of the Seven to Westeros, the territories of the First Men were reduced to the harsh environments of the North and Crackclaw Point.

While both regions are inhabited by descendants of the First Men, the North, with its vast territory, is comparatively more stable than Crackclaw Point.

About a thousand years ago, House Stark of Winterfell defeated their greatest rivals, House Bolton of the Dreadfort, causing them to surrender and submit. With this victory, House Stark largely unified the North, bringing an end to the region's chaos.

In contrast, the descendants of the First Men in Crackclaw Point never ceased their internal conflicts, except when facing external threats.

Sometimes a hero would bring temporary peace to the chaotic Crackclaw Point, such as the legendary hero Clarence Crabb of House Crabb.

However, when the hero died, everything returned to its previous state of internal strife.

During the War of the Usurper, the noble families of Crackclaw Point suffered heavy casualties as part of the losing faction.

After the war, it was the nobles of the Vale led by Lord Jon Arryn who continued to block and suppress Crackclaw Point for over a decade, making the internal conflicts even bloodier.

The weakened Crackclaw Point inadvertently became an opportunity for Gallen to end the chaos.

...

Of course, Gallen wouldn't get angry over some words exchanged between little girls.

Once Gallen's westward plan succeeds and he controls all of Crackclaw Point, the next step will be to move further west beyond Crackclaw Point.

Many lords of the Crownlands have tried to conquer Crackclaw Point, including House Mooton of Maidenpool.

The location of Maidenpool is just right, and Gallen suddenly felt that Maidenpool should be the first target for the westward expansion.

Gallen's decision was based on the old feud between Crackclaw Point and House Mooton of Maidenpool, not because of any trouble caused by the little girl of House Mooton.

...

Outside the inn, at the campsite, at night.

Mordin Water was enjoying a plate of meat, which smelled delicious.

Anguy, leaning against a tree nearby, was feeling a bit weak. "If I can't drink, I feel like I can't get into the spirit..."

Mordin Water chuckled.

Anguy looked at Mordin. "Mordin, I see you're not doing anything at all. Don't you also like to drink?"

As Anguy spoke, he paused for a moment, then continued, "It seems like everyone's pretty used to it."

Mordin swallowed the food in his mouth before replying, "It's what the lord decreed. During combat missions, alcohol is forbidden for everyone. At first, everyone felt like you do, but you'll get used to it."

Anguy sat down next to Mordin, speaking softly, "Will there be a fight?"

Although his voice was low, Anguy couldn't conceal his excitement.

Anguy longed for battle; he had dreams of being knighted and wanted to earn as much merit as possible.

Mordin shook his big head, "I'm not sure about that."

Anguy's tone became listless again, "Yeah, this is the Crownlands, and the Queen is here. Who would dare to attack us?"

Mordin comforted Anguy in his own simple way, "Anguy, drinking too much will affect your fighting ability. We never know what might happen out there. The enemy won't go easy on you just because you've had too much to drink."

Anguy nodded slightly. As a natural archer, he needed to be alert.

"You're just feeling uncomfortable because it's the beginning. We've all gotten used to it, and you will too. There will be plenty of opportunities to drink in the future, but staying alive is more important."

Mordin's words comforted Anguy.

Anguy looked at Mordin, who had a simple and honest face, "Mordin, why do I suddenly feel like you know a lot?"

Mordin chuckled again.

...

The guards inside the inn were arranged by Gallen. The Lannister Red Cloaks were responsible for guarding inside the inn, while the Gold Cloaks and the Blue Cloaks of House Crabb were responsible for patrolling outside the inn.

After finishing his patrol, Gallen was now sitting by the campfire outside his tent, gazing up at the night sky.

Gallen heard footsteps approaching.

Gallen's eyes flickered slightly as he noticed Jaime walking towards him in silver armor.

Jaime's expression wasn't very good. He sat down heavily on Gallen's other side.

Gallen nodded slightly, acknowledging Jaime's presence. He couldn't be bothered to speak, for we are incompatible!

.....

After a while, Jaime coughed lightly.

Facing Jaime's familiar opening, Gallen rolled his eyes inwardly.

Jaime's voice carried embarrassment. "Little Lord, can we talk?"

Gallen rolled his eyes inwardly again. When he needs me, I'm the Little Lord. When he doesn't, I become Half-Wild again.

A smile appeared on Gallen's face. "Ser Jaime, it seems like you're not in a good mood?"

As Gallen spoke, he gestured to a nearby servant.

The servant brought two empty cups, placed them down, and filled them with wine.

Jaime took a sip of summer red wine, fell silent for a moment, then spoke, "You seem to understand Cersei... the Queen's preferences quite well?"

No one knows better than you, right?

Gallen spread out his hands. "Ser Jaime, what do you want to hear?"

Another moment of silence.

Jaime leaned back, and in his line of sight was the starry sky twinkling above. "I remembered my father's teachings. He told me that when feeling lost, it's good to listen to others' advice and consider whether what they say makes sense."

Gallen raised his right hand and spread out five fingers towards Jaime.

Consultation fee: 5 gold dragons, otherwise, no deal.

Being a true Lannister, Jaime's green eyes flickered, instantly understanding Gallen's meaning.

The Lion of Lannister would never show any unusual behavior just because someone tried to bargain with him.

Handsome Jaime flashed a charming smile, took off his money pouch from his waist, and tossed it to Gallen. "There's more where that came from."

Gallen effortlessly caught the money pouch.

Jaime misunderstood Gallen; there were at least 50 gold dragons in the pouch.

It was a beautiful misunderstanding. Gallen originally intended to dismiss him with a perfunctory response, but now.....

...

Crackclaw Point, a dense forest in the northeast of House Crabb's ancestral land.

The short sword in the hand of a scout from the investigation corps silently pressed against the neck of a wildling scout from behind.

The suddenly appearing short sword gleamed with a cold light, causing the wildling to involuntarily tremble.

The scout's other hand covered the wildling mouth, swiftly and cleanly slitting the wildling sentinel's throat.

In the deep night, the forest was quiet.

Swoosh!

This was the sound of an arrow cutting through the air.

Before they could react, an arrow pierced the chest of the scout soldier with a loud thud, causing him to fall stiffly to the ground, his eyes gradually losing their light.

Swoosh swoosh swoosh!

Three more scout soldiers, silently following behind, immediately shot towards the direction where the arrows came from.

"The enemy are prepared! Go inform Ser Phillip immediately!"