Chapter 166: Arrival at Highgarden

When Samwell returned to Eagle Nest after a reluctant farewell to Nathalie, he found that Ser Mark Mullendore had also returned. As expected, Lord Martin of Uplands had finally accepted Samwell's new proposal.

After all, they didn't have much of a choice, especially now that Highgarden had officially issued a call to arms, and Uplands was in need of soldiers.

Once both sides had signed the new contract, Samwell dispatched 270 soldiers to fight on behalf of Uplands.

After seeing off Ser Mark, Samwell summoned Master Vidor, head of the craftsmen, and instructed him, "Master Vidor, we can now move forward with the port development on Eagle Nest—use the design plan you showed me before."

Vidor gave his young lord a thoughtful look before nodding. "As you command, my lord."

Samwell spent another three days on Eagle's Nest, giving detailed instructions to his bannermen and household. Among these tasks, he ordered his "mad dog," Chiman "Tigerfang," to continue subduing nearby wildling tribes.

Since he now had a channel for deploying mercenaries, Samwell no longer saw the growing population as a burden, giving Chiman new purpose.

This time, he emphasized to Chiman not to kill recklessly, even sparing tribal leaders whenever possible. Eagle Nest's current strength was enough to keep these leaders in check, and sparing them would protect his reputation. Samwell had no desire for his "Lord of Terror" moniker to spread too far.

He also strictly limited Chiman's military recruitment, warning that if he returned to find the militia over the 500-man cap, there would be consequences. Chiman nodded without a word—but Samwell could only hope he took it seriously.

He left Ser Lucas Dayne in charge of Eagle Nest's defenses and ordered him to keep a close eye on events in Starfall. Then, with his squire Katu, Ser Todd Flowers, and 500 soldiers, Samwell set off for Highgarden.

Though Eagle Nest's military potential could exceed this, Samwell wasn't about to deploy his entire force, especially not for a campaign ultimately serving the Iron Throne. As a newly titled lord, fielding 500 soldiers was already a respectful answer to his liege lord's summons. No one could fault him for that.

He would wait for the Iron Throne to bleed Dorne first. When the time was right, he'd throw his full weight into the fray, hoping to carve out his own piece of land from the conflict.

With the House Dayne lineage within his control, Samwell held the means to strike directly at Dorne's heartland.

This journey to Highgarden was faster than the last; traveling at full speed, they reached the castle in just over two weeks.

Seeing the beautiful castle by the banks of the Mander River, Samwell felt a wave of nostalgia. He still remembered receiving his pioneering commission here as if it were yesterday.

By now, many lords had already answered Lord Mace Tyrell's call, and House Tyrell had set up a large encampment outside the castle for the soldiers.

Samwell arranged for his troops to stay at the camp, leaving his trusted wildling sergeant Ucha in charge of daily training. Then, accompanied by his squire Katu and Ser Todd Flowers, he entered Highgarden.

Passing through the garden maze and crossing the drawbridge, Samwell found Margaery Tyrell waiting to welcome him at the gates.

"I hurried over as soon as I heard you'd arrived. Lord Samwell, you're so hard to catch," Margaery chided, though her bright smile softened the words.

Today, she wore a long gown of dark green velvet, draped with a lace-trimmed shawl. Her soft, chestnut hair was tied with a silver ribbon, and a sapphire necklace gleamed on her chest, adding both elegance and a hint of playfulness to her look.

"We only just met in King's Landing," Samwell reminded her.

"You know what I mean." She shot him a sidelong glance, leaving it at that. "Now, kiss me, my knight." Said Margarey while extending her right hand to Samwell's.

Samwell took her extended hand, pressing a kiss to her fingers.

With that, Margaery slipped her arm through his and led him forward. "Grandmother's been eager to see you. This time, you're not getting away."

"Of course not," Samwell replied, though the promise felt half-hearted even to him.

Noticing, Margaery just smiled and began asking about his journey and the developments at Eagle Nest.

Laughing and chatting, they strolled to a shaded pavilion in the garden.

"Well, well, our champion knight has arrived!" Lady Olenna called with a flair for theatrics. "Samwell, how did you get rid of all that fat? You should teach my son; it'd save me from having to look at his piggish face every day."

Thankfully, Lord Mace wasn't present.

Samwell stepped forward and bowed respectfully to the old lady. "My lady, with winter on the way, it's wise to keep some extra weight."

"Winter, indeed," Olenna gestured to the seat across from her, inviting him to sit. "One trip to King's Landing, and you're already talking like a Stark. What happened? Did the Hand of the King impress you?"

Settling into his chair, Samwell accepted a cup of tea from Margaery with a nod of thanks. "It has less to do with Lord Eddard and more to do with the chill blowing from the North. My lady, you surely know this summer has lasted over nine years; history suggests we're in for a harsh winter."

"Pah, as if the Reach will ever lack for food, even in winter. Let the northerners worry about that."

"My concern isn't the winter itself but what lies beyond the Wall. I've heard of strange creatures awakening in the far North, the wildlings growing restless, and even rumors of the Children of the Forest reappearing. Meanwhile, the Night's Watch is little more than a rabble of thieves and killers. I doubt they can safeguard the realm."

"Such worries! Why didn't you join the Night's Watch after Randyll threw you out?"

Samwell had no answer, opting instead to hide his embarrassment by taking a sip of tea.

According to rumor, Lady Olenna's husband, Lord Luthor Tyrell, had fallen off a cliff while hunting. But Samwell began to wonder if perhaps the old lord had jumped willingly, driven mad by her razor-sharp tongue…

He quickly gathered that Olenna cared little for the fate of the Wall. Understandable—after all, the Reach was far to the south, and even if the Wall fell, the North, Riverlands, and Vale would bear the brunt of any attack long before it reached them.

Asking House Tyrell to worry about the Wall was absurd.

"Samwell, why haven't you married yet?" Olenna abruptly shifted to a new line of questioning.

"Married?" Samwell was taken aback. "Who would I marry?"

Olenna rolled her eyes. "Isn't it obvious? You're thinking of marrying Nathalie Dayne, aren't you? Why else would you have refused that young Florent girl for your brother?"

Samwell's mind immediately filled with thoughts of Nathalie—her sweet, shy smile and the memory of their awkward first kiss, soft and uncertain.

"This is the perfect time for you to marry her," Olenna continued, adopting a surprisingly earnest tone. "I don't know what you're hesitating over."

"I'm still young and haven't given it much thought." He shrugged, offering a vague excuse.

"Tell that to the White Walkers," Olenna huffed, her piercing gaze unwavering. "Come on, Samwell, out with it. Is there someone else you'd rather marry?"

I'd like to marry your granddaughter, if you'd allow it. Samwell thought wryly, but the image that floated into his mind was Nathalie again, tasting like strawberries in the height of summer.

His silence only made Olenna draw her own conclusions. "You're not thinking of Princess Myrcella Baratheon, are you?"

"What?" Samwell blinked, barely following her train of thought.

"After all, you did give your tournament crown to the princess," Margaery teased, a hint of something almost jealous in her tone.

Before Samwell could reply, Olenna interjected, "Let me give you some advice: don't aim too high. A princess is out of reach for a mere baron. Nathalie Dayne is the best match you could hope for. Marry her, and you'll become the true, if unofficial, King of Torrentine."

King of Torrentine? Samwell thought the title sounded grandiose, but he bowed respectfully. "I'll seriously consider your advice, my lady."

Lady Olenna let the matter drop, then changed the subject.

"Margaery told me all about what happened in King's Landing. I owe you a thanks—if you hadn't intervened, Garlan and Loras might have dragged the Tyrells right into the political mess that is kings landing."

"You're too kind, my lady. It's my duty as your loyal bannerman."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Olenna said with a smile. "But I'll make sure you're rewarded properly." She turned to call over Ser Todd Flowers, who was waiting outside the pavilion. "Todd, come in here."

As Todd entered and bowed, Olenna continued, "Todd, you've served this old woman for long enough. It's time you made a choice: you can remain here, or swear your sword to this promising young baron."

Todd's face shifted with emotion as he recalled the many battles he'd fought beside Samwell over the past year. After a pause, he clenched his jaw and declared, "Thank you for the honor, Lady Olenna. I wish to serve Lord Samwell!"

"Good," Olenna nodded, dismissing him with a wave.

Todd immediately knelt before Samwell, holding out his sword and loudly pledging his loyalty.

Samwell looked at the knight thoughtfully, then took the offered sword and tapped it on Todd's shoulder, saying, "I accept your allegiance."

As he spoke, he felt a slight thrill; his ability to marshal loyal bannermen was growing. Checking his attribute panel discreetly, he noted with satisfaction that his list of sworn men had increased to three and that his skill in "Foray" had also risen to 3/100.

(End of Chapter)