Chapter 205: Hightower's Invitation

The sunset on the horizon, casting darkness over the land.

With the arrival of the red comet, the temperature steadily dropped, and the coolness of the night became apparent.

Samwell and his party made camp by the roadside.

As the bonfire crackled, the aroma of food filled the air.

The Bard plucked at the strings, singing the hymn he had composed for the baron and his dragon.

"It seems that summer is truly over," said Margaery, while preparing tea.

"Yes," Samwell nodded, his expression serious.

"Once this short autumn passes, Westeros will face a long and terrible winter."

Margaery gazed at Samwell with intense eyes and asked, "Sam, do you also believe in Melisandre's prophecy?"

Samwell gently touched Margaery's long, soft hair and asked with a hint of suspicion, "Do you have something against Melisandre? A slight hostility, perhaps?"

"She's a heretic," Margaery replied, her lips pursed in a smile.

"As a believer in the Seven Gods, it's natural to feel repulsed."

Samwell put on a mockingly disappointed expression. "I thought you were jealous."

Margaery's smile grew wider. "I'm not that petty. If Melisandre is truly beneficial to your cause, let her be. But I can't help but feel that she'll bring you more trouble.

If she hadn't saved your life, I would have advised you to send her away."

Samwell laughed for a while and then turned serious. "Although Melisandre's prophecies cannot be fully trusted, the impending arrival of the long night is a real concern."

Margaery was momentarily taken aback and was about to ask further when she heard the sound of approaching hoofbeats from the road.

Todd Flower quickly approached, reporting,

"My lord, Viscount Martyn Mullendore is here."

Samwell was slightly surprised.

When they passed Upland City this time, he chose not to visit the Mullendore family to avoid wasting time.

Unexpectedly, Viscount Martyn has personally chased after them.

"I will go meet him," Samwell said to Margaery.

"Very well," Margaery sweetly smiled at Samwell and continued tending to the tea.

After a while, the sound of singing seemed to grow louder in Margaery's ears.

When she looked up, she saw the bard they had encountered earlier staring at her with intense eyes.

...

"Lord Caesar!"

Viscount Martyn's boisterous laughter echoed from a distance. "Why are you hiding from your old friend?"

Samwell smiled and replied, "Lord Martyn, I was also concerned about disturbing you."

While speaking, Viscount Martyn dismounted and handed his horse to his squire.

He swiftly approached and said, "With the relationship between the Mullendore family and the Caesar family, This disturbing is nothing and I also have been looking forward to speaking with you for quite some time. Join me for a few drinks."

Samwell inwardly thought; last time I passed Upland City during his previous visit to Highgarden Viscount Martin didn't even bother to send a messenger.

The two of them entered the camp together, engaged in lively conversation, and suddenly heard a sharp scolding sound.

Samwell was taken aback and quickly went to investigate, while Viscount Martin tactfully stood back, waiting.

"What's the matter?" Samwell asked as he approached.

Margery turned to Samwell, pointed at the bard, and said, "I dislike this man. Get rid of him."

Hank hurriedly pleaded, "Lady Margaery, what have I done wrong? Why do you hate me so much?"

"Do I need a reason to hate you?"

Samwell ordered Todd, "Remove him!"

"Yes, my lord!"

Todd stepped forward with two soldiers and roughly grabbed Hank by the collar, dragging him away.

Hank attempted to explain but received a punch to the face, losing three teeth and reducing him to howls of pain.

Samwell took Margaery's hand and asked softly, "He didn't touch you, did he?"

"No. It's just..." Margaery's face darkened. "He might think that a woman who eloped with someone can be easily seduced..."

Samwell immediately sensed the self-pity hidden in Margaery's words.

Though her elopement with him had been entirely voluntary, such actions could tarnish a woman's reputation, particularly that of a noble lady like Margaery, who was especially sensitive to such matters.

He squeezed her hand and reassured her, "Don't worry, I won't let you suffer from such criticism."

"I believe in you," Margaery smiled once more.

Samwell turned to look for Viscount Martyn and as he passed his attendant, Kathu, he gave him a discreet look.

Kathu immediately turned around and caught up with Todd and the others.

The bard was roughly dragged out of the camp, attempting to plead for mercy, but before he could finish his sentence, Kathu swiftly approached, grabbing his hair with one hand and drawing a dagger with the other.

Before the bard could utter another word, his throat was slit, and his remaining words were drowned in blood.

Todd frowned and asked, "Did Lord Caesar order his execution?"

Katu dropped the body and replied coldly, "Does the lord need to explicitly state such matters? Should we let this man wander around spreading rumours?"

Meanwhile, Samwell had brought Viscount Martyn back to the bonfire and introduced him to Margaery.

"Lord Martin," Margaery greeted, her expression unaffected. "I heard that you enjoy wines. We have some fine wine here that can fulfil your wish."

"Lady Margaery," Viscount Martyn bowed. "It is an honour to meet you. May you always be as beautiful as you are today."

"May you always be in good health," Margaery returned the gesture.

She then invited Viscount Martyn to sit by the bonfire and personally went to pour some wine.

Viscount Martin observed Margaery's departure, then discreetly gave Samwell a thumbs up and whispered, "When I heard the rumours, I thought they were just the ramblings of a bard, but it seems they were true. However, Sam, as an old friend, I feel the need to caution you."

Samwell looked at his "old friend" with a smile and replied, "Please, go ahead."

"Although this rose is beautiful, it's not easy to pluck," Viscount Martyn advised. "Lady Alerie is always snobbish, and Lady Olenna is skilled at manipulation... I truly worry that you might struggle to handle them."

"Thank you for your advice," Samwell said with a smile.

Viscount Martyn didn't attempt to persuade him any further.

He glanced around the camp and asked, "I've heard you hatched a dragon. Is it true?"

"Indeed," Margaery interjected, returning with the brandy.

She handed a glass to each of the men and added, "Unfortunately, She had just gone hunting in the woods."

"That's a shame," Viscount Martin lamented.

"I've always dreamt of seeing a real dragon with my own eyes."

"Such dreams are shared by many youths in Westeros," Samwell remarked, smiling. "If you're patient, you'll have the chance to see Cleopatra. She'll return soon enough."

"I am truly looking forward to it!" Viscount Martyn exclaimed, drinking the brandy in his glass with emotion.

After a pause, he continued, "A few days ago, Earl Layton wrote to me, inquiring about the dragon's situation. If I happened to see you, he wanted me to invite you to Oldtown. He claims to possess important information about the dragon and wishes to share it personally."

Oldtown... Samwell pondered silently.

Did Earl Layton extend the invitation on behalf of the Hightower family or the Citadel?

The Citadel held a strong aversion to giant dragons, as they aimed to create a world devoid of magic. On the other hand, the Hightower family's stance was more ambiguous.

Regardless, Samwell had no intention of taking Cleopatra to Oldtown, at least not until he had gained enough strength.

The Citadel and the secrets it held, as well as the dangers lurking within the Hightower, were not things he wanted to recklessly approach.

"I appreciate Lord Layton's invitation,"

Samwell replied diplomatically. "If the opportunity arises, I will certainly consider it."

Viscount Martyn seemed to sense Samwell's lack of genuine interest and changed the subject, engaging in casual conversation.

Not long after, Cleopatra returned, presenting a hare to her owner.

Viscount Martin observed the white dragon with both curiosity and reverence before departing contentedly.

At dawn the next day, Samwell and his party resumed their journey northward.

They crossed the Honeywine River and set foot on the Rose Road. The pace of their travel had increased, and they estimated that they would reach Highgarden in about a week.

However, Samwell issued an order for the group to leave the Rose Road halfway and turn east—towards their destination, Horn Hill.

Before meeting Margaery's parents, Samwell believed it was fitting to introduce her to his own relatives.

Moreover, with the loss of his younger brother Dickon during the campaign in Dorne, Samwell felt the need to personally explain the circumstances to Earl Randyll.

As for whether Earl Randyll would demand that he revert to the Tarly surname... Samwell was determined not to comply.

After two days of winding paths since leaving the Rose Road, the group caught sight of the Tarly family's castle.

Legend had it that the earliest version of Horn Hill was built by twin brothers Haron the Hunter and Halledon the Horn, the sons of Garth the Greenhand.

The brothers had married a beautiful forest witch, and through their union, they extended their lives and continued their lineage.

"It's a splendid castle!" Margaery exclaimed, lifting the curtain and gazing at the castle nestled amidst the hills.

In truth, compared to Highgarden or other castles in the Reach, Horn Hill had little to boast about.

The castle was constructed entirely from sturdy limestone, with a simple yet grand design.

It lacked unnecessary ornamentation, with only patches of green moss adorning the walls, a testament to the castle's ancient history.

While the Tarly family couldn't match the power and longstanding history of the great houses, they were far from insignificant.

With their inclination towards martial prowess and the current generation's renowned military general, Earl Randyll, the family commanded respect.

"Yes, it is indeed a magnificent castle,"

Samwell replied, his gaze fixed on the familiar yet unfamiliar structure before him.

[END]