Eddard nodded slightly. "You speak."
Freya's voice was steady, yet carried a hint of excitement. "Now that we have taken control of Twin River City, can we start plundering the spoils of war ourselves?"
Eddard's expression remained calm, his words spoken as if discussing the weather. He blinked slowly, regarding Freya carefully before speaking. He allowed himself a moment to think, for this was more than a simple question.
The warriors of the North, whether elite soldiers or ordinary men, were rarely salaried guards. Before the war, most were farmers, merchants, shepherds, or fishermen. They had answered the call of their liege, some even bringing their own dried rations to the battlefield. Their aim was simple: gamble with their lives in the hopes of profiting from the spoils of war.
Among them, those with slightly higher birth hoped to gain merit that could be recognized with titles or land, to be called "Ser" or even "Lord." But such rewards were rare, earned only at the cost of countless lives. For the majority, wealth alone was the primary motivation.
Eddard, who had lived a modern life and died saving a child from a dump truck accident, found such calculations merciless. Yet he understood the harsh truths of this world. One could neither pity enemies nor stop soldiers from seeking fortune; to interfere would only provoke anger and violence. True power came not from coercion but from hearts that followed willingly—at least, in this stage of life.
Thus, Eddard had never discouraged his men in the Westerlands from taking action that weakened the Lannisters. This world was unchanging in its brutal logic: mercy could invite disaster, and hesitation could be fatal.
Now, the situation at Twin River City was different. Eddard considered his options, then spoke decisively, "Freya, tell the warriors of House Karstark not to harass the commoners. They are poor folk and have done no harm."
He paused for a moment, measuring his words. "To celebrate our victory, tomorrow I will distribute five gold dragons to each soldier at the entrance of the Banquet Hall. Those who fought exceptionally well, or were wounded in battle, will receive double. For the fallen, I will grant fifteen gold dragons as a pension."
"This is far better than letting them waste energy on looting."
He thought further and added, "Privately, let them know that we will remain in Twin River City for a long time. I will require the commoners and prisoners for various duties. Their cooperation is more valuable than any plunder. Fear may enforce obedience, but sometimes compassion—or at least the appearance of it—works better."
Freya, who had expected permission to plunder, was initially stunned. Upon hearing the rewards and reasoning, however, she understood. Young Master Eddard needed these people alive and functional; letting them plunder would have been counterproductive. Moreover, five gold dragons per soldier was generous by any standard, ensuring loyalty and motivation.
In truth, even if he had forced the people with knives or whips, they would have obeyed. But Eddard preferred a different approach. Compassion, in his hands, was a tool as powerful as a sword.
Freya nodded respectfully. "Understood, Young Master. I will relay your instructions exactly as you said."
Eddard waved her off. "Go, busy yourself."
He looked at the blood and gore that still stained the Banquet Hall floor and curled his lips into a faint smile. "I doubt anyone will think I'm a coward."
Abel, standing nearby, finally broke his silence. "Young Master, do you have any further instructions?"
"Yes," Eddard replied, springing to his feet. His voice was serious now. "You and Paine investigate our prisoners. Determine which are unrelated to House Frey, and whose families live in or near the city. Bring them to me. I want the results before tomorrow afternoon, understood?"
Abel was startled but nodded quickly. "Understood, Young Master. We'll get right on it."
He departed with Paine, the short, stout, and honest-faced warrior, tasked with bolstering Eddard's forces. The looming threat of House Tarly's ten-thousand-strong army required every available hand. Some prisoners, motivated by wealth or the safety of their families, might willingly join the King of the North, strengthening Eddard's position.
Meanwhile, Scholar Bennett and Dita. Kalander had already dispatched the letters and returned. Eddard nodded in satisfaction; the letters had reached their recipients safely. He knew that without reinforcements, the coming battle would be impossible to hold with only his three hundred-plus men.
He reflected on the nature of his so-called "golden finger" system. Since the Battle of the Haunted Forest, he had understood that this form of magic advanced slowly, growing more potent as the magic tide recovered. When the Red Comet had not appeared, the system remained dormant. Now, it was activating gradually, offering small miracles, but nothing that could replace the hard work of soldiers on the field. Dragons, too, required the magic tide to reach maturity—without it, they would never grow strong enough to dominate.
Eddard's reliance on magic was tempered by logic: its use required a price, often a soul or a life. Against the tens of thousands of Tarly's men, limited magical spells would be useless. Victory here would depend on people, on soldiers, and on strategy.
He glanced at Scholar Bennett and smiled warmly. "Scholar, thank you for your cooperation."
Noticing the scholar's tattered robe and sleeves stained with raven droppings, Eddard added, "Do not worry. I am not like Old Frey, stingy and cruel. Serve me faithfully, and your life will be far better than before."
Bennett's face flushed. He lowered his head modestly. "Respected Lord Eddard, there is no need for such concern. I will faithfully fulfill my duties."
Eddard nodded approvingly. Compared to the massacre in the Banquet Hall, this gentleness was a world apart.
"Good," he said. "Now, I believe you know where House Frey's wealth is kept. I don't want the soldiers searching ostentatiously. Can you take me there?"
Bennett hesitated briefly before nodding. As a scholar who had served Twin River City for over twenty years, he was familiar with many secrets, including the storerooms of House Frey.
"Follow me, Lord Eddard," he said confidently.
The group departed the Banquet Hall, moving along the streets and crossing the arch bridge until they reached the central River Tower. "The Marquis's bedroom is above," Bennett explained. "And House Frey's wealth is stored there."
"Lead the way," Eddard instructed, motioning for Dita. Kalander and McKen to follow while leaving the rest behind.
Human nature, Eddard knew, was unreliable. Wealth, women, power, and crisis tested loyalty like nothing else. Yet he had underestimated House Frey's treasure.
They arrived at Old Frey's bedroom. Eddard split a sturdy iron lock with his battle-axe and pushed open double steel doors. The sight inside stunned him. Boxes and shelves were filled entirely with gold coins, glittering ornaments, and jewel-encrusted treasures: red agate, chalcedony, black diamonds, blue crystals—all shimmering under the torchlight.
He raised an eyebrow. "How many gold dragons are here?"
Bennett surveyed the warehouse and estimated, his voice slightly dazed, "Over a hundred thousand, roughly."
Over a hundred thousand gold dragons—enough to fund multiple armies or hold grand tournaments for years. Eddard rolled up his sleeves. It was time to put money to use.
Working quickly, he and Bennett moved ten boxes, each containing a thousand gold dragons. "That should suffice," he said casually, securing the remaining treasures behind the steel doors with three iron locks.
Bennett handed him a set of keys. "Lord Eddard, Marquis Walder kept many iron locks and changed them periodically. Use these."
"Good. Thank you," Eddard said, smiling. Even Old Frey had good habits.
He instructed Bennett further, "Inform Dita. Kalander to call Abel, Matthew, Paine, Kalas, and Lando. I have arrangements to make."
He decided to reward his most loyal followers first—two hundred gold dragons each. "And keep this warehouse a secret," he added.
Bennett nodded. "Understood, Lord Eddard. I do not seek worldly wealth, only the chance to study magic under your guidance."
Eddard examined the scholar's necklace with interest. "No problem, but it will require time and a price."
"Of course," Bennett replied, excitement brightening his plump face, before leaving to fulfill the task.
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