Noticing the approach from the river, Averry cast a wary glance, then signaled his two companions before stepping forward to meet them.
"I am Averry, a Wandering crow of the Night's Watch. We are transporting recruits to Castle Black. We have no wish to meddle in the quarrels of the realm."
Averry noticed that the men on the boat were clad in fine, tightly fitted armor. At once he realized that those aboard were at least knights, perhaps greater lords, so he quickly declared his identity and stressed that he had no wish to take part in the war at hand.
But no one on the boat answered his greeting. They waited until the vessel had reached the bank, and then a man tall as a tower stepped ashore and came toward him.
"Wandering crow?!" Kal spoke curtly. He cast a glance at Averry, then raised his eyes to look over the men behind him.
Six were being driven out from the cages. The rest—those in black cloaks, including this Averry who had introduced himself—numbered only three.
That meant there were only three sworn brothers of the Watch here.
Kal studied them briefly, but soon his gaze fixed instead on a fat man leading a warhorse. The man looked curiously in their direction, but at the same time shrank back timidly.
For some reason—perhaps his garb, or his bearing, or simply his face—he seemed utterly out of place among this company.
"Yes, my lord," Averry answered, cautious. "I come from Highgarden, bringing these newly recruited men north to Castle Black."
He had no idea who Kal was. But faced with such presence, and the four men who followed close at his side, Averry knew this giant before him had to be some highborn noble.
Not daring to give offense, Averry's manner grew careful.
Once he was sure this company truly was who they claimed, Kal inclined his head slightly, smiled, and looked down at the somewhat nervous Averry.
"I am Ser Kal Stone," he said. "An honor to meet you, Averry of the Night's Watch. I hope I am not hindering your duty."
You already are hindering me, Averry thought sourly. But his attention snagged on that name—Stone. It left him faintly puzzled.
At that moment, Hall, who was also traveling with Kal to the Eyrie, stepped forward.
"The man before you, Ser Kal Stone, has just been named Warden of the East by His Grace the King."
Perhaps he had caught the subtle change on Averry's face. Hall's voice rang with righteous solemnity.
Kal, however, felt awkward at his companion's posturing. He quickly lifted a hand, pressing it down as if to quell the words. "That has nothing to do with the brothers of the Watch. Their honor deserves the respect of all."
And in his heart Kal muttered that he was still nothing more than a knight, without land or fortune—yet Robert had saddled him out of thin air with the title of Warden of the East.
Wasn't this nothing but looking for trouble?
When he stopped Hall from carrying on with his boasting, Kal noticed the change of expression that had flickered over Averry's face. At once, he shifted the subject.
"My apologies, Averry. I never meant to stand in the way of your duty."
He waved lightly, then gestured toward the new recruits of the Watch, who were staring curiously at him and his party.
"It is only that I am curious. As far as we know, the Riverlands and the King's Lands nearby are already occupied by Lannister armies. How did you manage to pass through this region?"
"And if possible, I would like, in the name of King Robert's vanguard, to ask for all the information you know."
Oh, gods…
The moment Kal spoke those words, Averry's head began to ache.
He had already been curious when he heard this knight still bore the bastard name Stone. Then he learned this same man had been granted the title Warden of the East by the King.
Though Averry could not be sure whether it was true, now the man was invoking the King's authority to demand the details of all he had seen and heard. And Averry realized he had gone from the tiger's mouth straight into the wolf's den.
Seeing the troubled look on his face, Kal quickly understood. He cast a glance around and realized this was no place for talk.
"My destination is Saltpans, not far from here," Kal said.
"This place isn't safe. If possible, I'd ask you to accompany me there."
Averry had no time to protest. The moment he heard those words, his face turned bitter.
Not only was this man's presence overwhelming, but the very fact that he invoked the King's name left Averry no way to refuse.
"It would be an honor to serve you and the King," he said stiffly. "I do in fact have some important information I wish to share with you, Ser Kal."
Seeing that the man of the Night's Watch had the sense to comply, Kal smiled.
Thus, the Watch party—who had meant to cross the river quickly and be rid of this troubled place—could only hang their heads in gloom and follow after Kal.
By the time they left the dangerous stretch near the Kingsroad and arrived at Saltpans, dusk had already fallen.
The sun had slipped behind the mountains.
To receive Kal and his companions came Ser Quincey Cox, lord of the Cox family and knight of Saltpans—an old man whose mind had grown feeble with age.
So in truth it was his two sons who handled the welcome.
The Cox family seat was a small castle, with a tall square keep and a stout wall, overlooking the port and ruling the town below.
After dining under the Cox family's hospitality, Kal excused himself, claiming the need for rest and private business, and borrowed a chamber. There he gathered Jon Snow, Jory Cassel, Hall, and Kennedy of the Blackstone Company.
Seated opposite them were Averry and the two other men of the Watch. Beside them, head bowed, sat a soft-skinned, pale, plump man.
He dared not meet Kal's eyes, shying away from the candlelight as he toyed nervously with his fingers.
They tangled together like the knots in his heart.
Hall and the others glanced at him with curiosity, wondering why their lord had specifically asked Averry to bring this one along.
A "volunteer" for the Watch—a noble, no less, and the eldest son and heir of House Tarly.
Jon in particular could hardly keep his eyes from him, his gaze practically sparkling.
No one knew the whole story, but everyone sensed something strange. For such a man to sit here, claiming he had chosen the black, was peculiar indeed.
Kal ignored Jon and the others' reactions. He was wholly intent on the words Averry was now telling him—the intelligence he had brought.
According to the Wandering crow of the Night's Watch before them, it was only when he had just recruited a few "like-minded" new men in the dungeons of Highgarden and was preparing to depart, that a raven from Horn Hill forced him to linger a few more days as a guest.
His wait did not last long. Soon after, two knights bearing the sigil of House Tarly brought before him a plump man who had "volunteered" to join the Watch.
Thus his party grew by one more, and with this company he was ready to return north to fulfill his duty at Castle Black.
But just as he was about to set out, the war broke out.
The King's call to arms against the Westerlands and the Lannisters spread throughout the Seven Kingdoms.
Yet that had nothing to do with the Night's Watch.
And the battlefields were even further removed from him.
So, leisurely, he continued northward with his recruits, even slowing his pace to enjoy the rare warmth of the southern lands.
It was only after two months of trudging up the Kingsroad that he reached King's Landing. There, in the dungeons of the capital, he recruited two more future brothers.
After resting for half a month, he finally left the city. But upon entering the Riverlands, before he had gone very far, he was suddenly seized.
His captors were soldiers of the Lannisters' great host.
They held him and his companions in Harrenhal for nearly half a month, until Lord Tywin Lannister himself arrived.
Only after Tywin had interrogated them several times, confirming that they truly were Night's Watch by mistake, did he order their release.
Thus most of his time had in fact been spent in Harrenhal's dungeons.
But scarcely had he taken his men out and set off north again—after only a few days' march, having just reached the Trident and before even crossing the river—Kal caught up with him.
Hearing this pitiful tale, Kal's expression did not change.
After all, for this Averry to come out of Harrenhal alive was already a miracle.
Yet as Averry spoke, Kal's frown only deepened.
For though the man's information carried little substance—he was merely an unlucky soul—the one useful piece he gave was that Tywin Lannister was at Harrenhal.
But for Kal, that was precisely where the problem lay.
Why had there been no mention of the Cleganes of House Clegane—Gregor "the Mountain" foremost among them—or of Amory Lorch?
In the original tale, these were the Lannisters' white gloves, the hands that did their darkest and bloodiest work.
They were the ones who committed the most atrocious deeds against the Targaryens in the end.
And yet in this war, it seemed their names had never once been heard.
This anomaly instantly seized Kal's attention.
For if matters had gone as in the original tale—if it were Gregor Clegane and Amory Lorch ravaging the Riverlands and holding Harrenhal—then these men of the Night's Watch would likely have perished in that cursed castle.
And the plump young man, head lowered but sneaking glances at him with timid eyes might have ended with his innards eaten out by rats, dead in misery.
So, was this a twist of human nature—cough—or the push of some hidden force?
Or perhaps what lay concealed here was in fact the true scheme of that old lion, Tywin Lannister.
But then… what exactly was he after?
And where had Gregor Clegane gone?
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