Chapter 11 : The Funeral (4)

[William's POV]

I stood there in the dimly lit kennels, the mixed scent of hay and hound, a fragrance only a true dog enthusiast could love (or tolerate without gagging). Torches flickered along the stone walls, casting playful shadows as the dogs gathered around, full of energy. One by one, I handed out chunks of meat I had salvaged from the feast. Each dog took their piece with wagging tails and eyes so full of affection you would think I was made of bacon.

They pressed against my legs, nearly knocking me over as they competed for my attention. These hounds were trained to be formidable hunters, but around me, they were more like oversized lapdogs convinced they could fit in my pocket. One of them tried something similar, Brock, the biggest of the lot, decided my boots were the perfect place to rest his massive head.

"Easy there, doggy." I laughed, scratching behind his ears, "You are supposed to be terrifying, remember?"

He responded with a slobbery lick that left me wondering if I needed a towel or a bath. Their happiness was downright infectious, and I found myself grinning like an idiot. So much for being the castle's fearsome guard dogs, they were more interested in belly rubs and treats. Not that I minded. If anything, their open fondness for me brightened my day.

Beside me stood the kennel master, a man whose wrinkles had wrinkles, eyes glazed over like still water, and a penchant for unnecessary conversation. He held the silver platter from which I dispensed the treats, watching me with a smile so forced it looked painful.

"Seems the dogs have taken quite a liking to you, young lord." He remarked, his voice dripping with a sweetness that could rot teeth, "They say animals can sense a good heart."

I glanced at him, noting the subtle tilt of his head and the hopeful gleam in his eyes. Ah, the age-old dance of flattery and favor-seeking, "Or perhaps they just appreciate free food." I replied dryly, handing a piece to a spotted hound.

He chuckled nervously, perhaps not expecting such a blunt response, "Still, not everyone has your way with beasts, my lord."

I stood up slowly, brushing stray bits of hay from my clothes, "Dogs are uncomplicated." I said. "They respond to kindness with loyalty, giving back more than they receive. We could all stand to learn a thing or two from them."

He nodded eagerly, "Wise words, my lord. Very wise."

"Indeed." I said, giving him a pointed look, "Thank you for holding the platter. I will take it from here."

He hesitated, fingers tightening slightly around the edges, "Allow me to handle that, my lord. No trouble at all."

"I insist." I replied, my tone leaving no room for argument, "Wouldn't want you burdened any longer."

Reluctantly, he handed over the platter, "As you wish."

"Good day." I said curtly, turning on my heel and making my way out of the kennels. As I stepped into the cool night air, I couldn't help but sigh in relief. The people of the Riverlands were generally straightforward, but there were always a few snakes who saw others as stepping stones. Flattery might work on some, but I preferred honesty, even if it was uncomfortable sometimes.

As I crossed the courtyard toward the stables, the familiar musky scent of horses greeted me, mingling with the much more inviting aroma of roasted meat and fresh bread. Inside, Roderick and Edric sat on bales of hay, devouring the leftovers I had set aside for them, the rich meal a stark contrast to the meager meals they were used to.

"Enjoying the feast after the feast?" I quipped, setting the empty platter of the dogs on the ground.

Edric looked up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His dark hair was a tousled mess, and his green eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and guardedness, "Best meal we ever had. Might get used to this." He said with a cheeky grin.

"Careful." I replied, arching an eyebrow, "Wouldn't want you getting spoiled. Next thing you know, you will be demanding silk sheets and a personal minstrel."

He laughed, "Not a bad idea. Got any recommendations?"

Roderick chuckled softly, a rare sound from the usually stoic boy. His sandy blond hair fell over his eyes as he focused on his food, but there was a subtle warmth in his demeanor.

I leaned against a wooden post, observing them, "I suggest you don't take too long to fall asleep tonight. You will need a clear mind for the days ahead."

Edric looked at me skeptically, "Are we back to books and letters?"

"Ah, straight to the point." I said, smirking, "Yes, we are diving back into our reading lessons."

He groaned dramatically, rolling his eyes, "Reading won't help me drive a blade through an Ironborn's heart."

"No, but it might help you find where that heart is." I retorted, "Or perhaps even avoid unnecessary battles altogether."

He crossed his arms, clearly unconvinced, "I'd rather face one of those bastards head-on rather than waste time squinting at pointless squiggles on parchment."

"Knowledge cuts deeper than steel." I said evenly, "An enemy you understand completely is one you can defeat."

Roderick nodded thoughtfully, "Listen to him Edric. The more we know, the better prepared we will be."

Edric huffed but didn't argue further.

I took a moment to study them both. Roderick's calm demeanor hid a well of determination and a thirst for justice. The loss of his village and the abduction of his sister weighed heavily on him, but he channeled that pain into focus. Edric, meanwhile, was a complex blend of emotions, alongside his anger and resentment, there was also courage and a strong sense of responsibility. By guiding him properly and honoring my promise to help him, I could earn his unwavering loyalty.

"I didn't take you two under my wing just to teach you how to swing a sword." I said, "If your ambitions don't extend beyond simple vengeance, then I'm the one wasting my time the most here."

Edric met my gaze defiantly, "And what if vengeance is all I want?"

"Making that your sole goal will lead you down a path of relentless misery." I cautioned, "But if you learn to temper that fire with wisdom, you might actually achieve that, and much more, and live to tell the tale."

He looked away, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit, "Fine. I'll give your lessons another chance."

"That's all I ask," I said, offering a slight smile, "Now, finish up. We will have much to cover tomorrow."

As they returned to their meal, I felt a glimmer of satisfaction. Perhaps progress was possible after all.

(Next morning)

We met on top of the battlements. The sun spread golden light over the land, and the river shone like silver as it flowed through the fields. I carried a voluminous book under my arm, its leather cover was old but well cared for.

Edric squinted at the horizon, "Couldn't we have done this somewhere less... windy?"

I smirked, "What, and miss this invigorating breeze? Nonsense."

Roderick chuckled softly, "I think he means he'd rather be anywhere else."

"Well, too bad." I said, "I have question for you both."

They turned their attention to me, curiosity piqued.

"During the attack on your village." I began, "Did you notice any banners, symbols, anything that might identify which house the raiders belonged to?"

Roderick furrowed his brow in thought, "No banners, but I did hear them shout 'conquest is our harvest' before they attacked."

Edric nodded, "Yeah. Didn't mean much to me then."

I opened the book to one of the marked pages, revealing at the top an illustration of a silver scythe on a black field, "House Harlaw. That's their words." I said. "The wealthiest among the Ironborn Houses, second only to the Greyjoys in terms of power."

Edric peered skeptically at the page, "So we know their name, their fancy sigil, and that they're the richest savages among the Ironborn. How does that help us?"

"Actually, that's only what you know." I said, pointing to the section on House Harlaw in the encyclopedia of Westeros's major and minor houses, "I know much more because I have read what's written here. This book give details on their territory, known alliances, and the strength of they army, things you won't be able to understand the measure unless you learn to read."

Roderick placed a hand on Edric's shoulder, "We need to be smart about this."

Edric glanced between us, frustration evident but slowly giving way to consideration, "Fine. So, what does that book says on the Harlaws?"

"I guess I didn't make myself clear, learn to read what is said by yourself." I said, "Relying on others for knowledge leaves you vulnerable. Once you can access information independently, you are in control."

He looked at the book again, a mixture of reluctance and intrigue in his eyes, "Alright. Teach me."

"That's the spirit." I said, genuinely pleased, "We will start with the basics and work our way up. Before long, you will be deciphering battle strategies and maybe even writing your own."

Edric smirked, "Don't push it."

I chuckled, "Wouldn't dream of it."

Just then, Gareth approached, his usually composed expression tinged with urgency, "Lord William." He called out, "Your presence is required. The Tyrell retinue has arrived sooner than expected."

"Perfect timing." I muttered under my breath ironically, "Thank you, Gareth."

Turning back to Roderick and Edric, I closed the book, "We will continue this later. In the meantime, consider what we have discussed."

Edric raised an eyebrow, "Off to play the dutiful noble now?"

"Something like that." I replied, "Try not to miss me too much."

He grinned, "I'll manage."

As I made my way down the stone steps, Gareth fell into step beside me, "My lord, you seem less than thrilled."

"Let's just say entertaining guests wasn't high on my agenda today." I said, "And this one, even less."

"Lady Olenna is known for her sharp wit." He remarked, "Best be on your guard my lord."

"Always am." I replied, adjusting my tunic, "But thanks for the warning."

(Several minutes later)

In the courtyard, Father and Uncle Hoster stood side by side, their faces a blend of stoicism and slight annoyance. Father's sharp eyes were scanning the gates as if he was mentally preparing for a battle of words. Uncle Hoster, on the other hand, stood rigidly, his hands clasped behind his back, his face set in its usual mask of authority. The grandeur that often accompanied noble arrivals had been intentionally stripped away ; No retainers, no banners, and certainly no fanfare. There was just the three of us ; Lord Tully, his brother and his nephew, gathered to meet one of the most formidable women in Westeros. It was a calculated move by Hoster, to ensure that no prying eyes or loose tongues would catch wind of whatever was about to unfold. The Riverlands were already filled with enough whispers. Best not to give them anything more to talk about.

The Tyrell retinue, however, had no interest in subtlety. They entered through the gates with no attempt to blend into the quieter setting Hoster had arranged. Banners bearing the golden rose of House Tyrell waved high and proud in the morning breeze, their deep green fabric shimmering as if it was a living thing. The Tyrell guards, gleaming in their polished armor, marched in perfect formation, every step they took seemed deliberate, as if to remind anyone watching of the prestige and might of their House. It was hard to miss the stark contrast between their opulent entrance and our modest reception.

From the center of the retinue, an opulent carriage emerged, adorned with intricate gold designs that sparkled under the sun. Its door swung open, and out stepped Lady Olenna Tyrell. Flanked by four imposing guards, she descended with the confidence of someone who knew her every move was observed, but cared little about it. Her sharp blue eyes, as piercing as a hawk's, swept over the courtyard. Her gaze landed on each of us in turn. It was clear from the way she held her head high and her lips pressed into a thin, knowing smile that she was here for her own reasons, and she would play this encounter exactly as she saw fit.

The grandeur of the arrival of the Tyrells might have seemed ostentatious to some, but to her, it was likely nothing more than another tool, a statement, a reminder that no matter how discreet Hoster had intended this meeting to be, the Tyrells never bowed to subtlety unless it suited them.

"How quaint." She began, her tone dripping with dry amusement, "Such a modest reception. Given the famed hospitality of the Riverlords, I expected something else to mark my arrival."

Father stepped forward, his posture unwelcoming, "Excuse us if our reception doesn't meet your lofty expectations, we prefer discretion over spectacle for funerals." He said coldly.

Olenna met my father's behavior with a playful tone, "I'm grateful you are sparing me the usual mind-numbing flattery that the sycophants throw my way, fair nephew. I have had enough of those to last a lifetime. On another note, the journey was dreadful, and my backside may never forgive me. I do hope the accommodations here will be kinder."

Uncle Hoster offered a tight-lipped smile, "We have prepared the finest chambers for you. Wouldn't want our esteemed guest uncomfortable."

She eyed him shrewdly, "How considerate. I trust the mattress isn't stuffed with rocks?"

"Only the softest feathers." He replied, not missing a beat.

I watched the exchange with interest. Lady Olenna was known for her sharp tongue, but my uncle and father were holding their own.

Olenna's eyes settled on me, and with a faint, almost teasing smile, she said, "So, you must be William. It's about time we met, young man."

I inclined my head, "Lady Olenna, welcome to Riverrun."

"Polite and handsome." Olenna remarked, her tone warmer than usual as she gave me an appraising look, "It seems Bethany left us with something worth cherishing after all."

"Flattery from the Queen of Thorns? I must be dreaming." I said, allowing a hint of a smile.

She chuckled, "Careful, young man. Flattery is best used sparingly."

Uncle Hoster cleared his throat, "Perhaps we should continue this inside. The wind has a chill today."

"Trying to get me out of the public eye already?" She quipped, "Very well. Lead the way."

Father gestured toward the entrance, "If you will follow me, Lady Olenna."

She glanced back at her guards who were about to follow her, "Wait here. I'm sure these fine gentlemen can ensure my safety within their own walls."

The guards exchanged uncertain looks but obeyed. As we made our way inside, I fell into step beside her.

"You seem remarkably unruffled by all this." She observed.

"Should I be?" I asked.

She smiled slyly, "Most your age would be tripping over themselves in my presence."

"Perhaps I have had good training."

"Or perhaps you are smarter than you look."

"I will take that as a compliment."

As we approached the guest chambers, Hoster paused, "If there's anything you require, Lady Olenna, please let us know."

"Actually." She said, turning to me, "I would like a word with William. Family matters, you understand."

Father exchanged a glance with uncle Hoster, then looked at me, waiting for my answer.

"Gladly." I said.

Once they were out of earshot, she leaned in slightly, "They are very protective of you."

"Family tends to be that way." I replied.

"Or perhaps they are wary of what I might say."

"Should they be?"

She smiled enigmatically, "That depends."

"On?"

"On whether they have something to hide."

I met her gaze steadily, "Everyone has secrets, Lady Olenna."

"Wise words for someone so young."

"I read a lot."

She chuckled, "I'm aware."

We reached her chamber door, I turned to her with a courteous smile, "I hope you will find everything to your liking, Lady Olenna." I said, gesturing toward the room.

She surveyed the hallway with a discerning eye before returning her gaze to me, "I'm sure I will, knowing your uncle's reputation." She replied. Then, with a subtle tilt of her head, she added, "But tell me, William, are you content here?"

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her sudden shift in topic, "Contentment is a matter of perspective." I answered cautiously.

A sly smile played on her lips, "A diplomatic answer. You would do well in court in the future." She remarked.

"Perhaps." I conceded, "But I would rather not be constantly surrounded by schemers."

She let out a low, approving grunt at that. As if she wasn't considering herself one of them.

"Is there anything else you need before I take my leave?" I asked, holding her gaze.

She paused for a moment, seeming to weigh her words carefully, "One piece of advice." She said finally, ignoring my question.

"I'm always open to counsel." I assured her.

She stepped a fraction closer, "Be careful who you trust. Even family can have conflicting interests."

A flicker of surprise crossed my face, but I quickly masked it, "I will keep that in mind." I said evenly.

"Good." She replied, a hint of satisfaction in her tone, "It might serve you well in the days to come."

With that, she turned and entered her chambers, the door closing softly behind her. I remained standing in the dimly lit corridor, her words echoing in my mind. Lady Olenna was as astute as I remembered.