Five days passed in the blink of an eye. That morning, the Mandalay family's most elite plate-armored cavalry unit assembled at Newcastle, for they would escort the young lord of White Harbor south to the Twins.
More than ten blue mermaid banners fluttered above the entire column. As the rising sun just touched their cloaks, the gates of Newcastle rumbled open.
Clay, clad in full armor, his breastplate emblazoned with a golden trident, his longsword tucked into his saddlebag, rode his horse as the young lord of White Harbor slowly approached his unit.
Every time Clay saw this column, he felt a sense of satisfaction; the heavily armored knights, clad in full armor and mounted on lances, were the kings of the battlefield in this era.
And the Mandalay family had many such soldiers. This southward journey, with 200 elite knights accompanying them, was also an opportunity to flaunt their military might to the Frey family.
A slender hand grasped Clay's horse's reins. Clay looked at his sister, Valfield, who was dressed in a plain white gown.
"Remember your promise..." Valfield whispered to Clay, gently stroking the horse's mane.
Clay nodded. He knew what Valfield meant. As one of the largest families in Westeros, the Frey family had a strong desire for marriage alliances.
"Don't worry, sister. If any Frey makes a request, I'll refuse for you."
Clay reassured his sister again. The most important thing was that their patriarch hadn't mentioned this matter at all, a clear signal that he didn't want his granddaughter to have anything to do with the Twins.
"Alright, I should get going. Goodbye, Valfield."
Controlling his horse, Clay headed towards the port. They would sail south, landing at the closest point in the Riverlands to the Twins. There was a simple port there, small but enough for Clay's 200 men to disembark.
Crossing most of White Harbor once more, Clay was once again greeted by the reverent gazes of its inhabitants. His act of slaying the Lannister in Winterfell for the honor of his family had already spread throughout the harbor via the bards in the taverns.
Coupled with his status as the young master of White Harbor, Clay's reputation there had been quite high recently—not quite at the point of free meals, but very close.
Passing through the city walls, Clay and his party of 200 arrived at a military port specifically designated for the family fleet. Ordinary merchant ships were not allowed to dock here, and entry and exit were strictly controlled.
Even Clay, with his mermaid flag flying behind him, was only allowed entry after revealing his identity.
Since Brandon the Shipburner, King in the North, burned all of Brandon the Shipbuilder's remaining warships, the North had not had a fully-fledged naval force for over a century.
However, the Mandelstra family, who controlled White Harbor, the largest city in the North, were an exception.
Although far inferior to the Royal Fleet and the Iron Fleet, with the immense financial backing of White Harbor, Clay saw a total of 24 warships in the harbor, mostly composed of large sailing ships and light, swift longships.
A burly man in a coarse cloth coat, barefoot, led a few men to the harbor. Upon seeing Clay and his group arrive, he immediately came forward to greet them.
"Young Master, this is our captain for this voyage. We will be aboard the White Harbor Old Man to Twin Rivers."
Clay nodded, slightly criticizing the men's naming skills, not minding the captain and his crew's unkempt appearance. He knew in his heart that he might be even less presentable than them once on board. The
White Harbor Old Man was a large sailing ship, primarily used for engaging enemy warships and controlling the seas—a true capital warship. "Young Master Clay, I am Captain Stone of the White Harbor Old Man. The White Harbor Old Man will provide you with a more comfortable journey." Clay
nodded and greeted Captain Stone, who grinned and led Clay and his party to the huge warship moored not far away.
Their horses would be taken to a smaller sailing ship at the stern of the White Harbor Old Man, where they would be cared for by special personnel.
Watching Captain Stone walk effortlessly on the swaying plank connecting the land and the deck, Clay took a deep breath and, under the watchful eyes of his guards, was the first to step onto the plank. The moment he stepped onto
the plank, a strong swaying sensation washed over Clay. At this moment, even his Witcher mutation couldn't help him; his legs trembled slightly. However, this was not the time to back down.
With a determined heart, Clay knew he was a good swimmer; even if he fell in, he wouldn't drown. At worst, he would be a little embarrassed, but that was much better than being scared and retreating.
With immense willpower, Clay regained control of his leg muscles and, with noticeably cautious steps, traversed the plank that should have taken less than ten seconds.
Finally on deck, Clay breathed a sigh of relief. At that moment, Captain Ston, who had been watching the entire time, grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth, and chuckled,
"Young Master, you're far superior to those incompetent fools I've encountered before. It's rare to see someone who's rarely been on a ship cross the plank so quickly and steadily."
Maintaining a noble composure, Clay nodded slightly, accepting Captain Ston's praise, though his legs were still trembling slightly.
Turning around, the captain of the guard, clearly also accustomed to shipboard travel, swiftly and smoothly crossed the plank.
The vast majority of his guards were carefully selected veterans; as soldiers of White Harbor, they had all been on ships before. Aside from a few young men who made a fool of themselves, 150 guards boarded smoothly.
The remaining 50 were on the second ship, as they had brought warhorses and needed to look after them.
Clay noticed that the first thing these guards did after boarding the ship was to remove their heavy armor, leaving only a set of lighter chainmail with less protection.
The captain of the guards stayed by Clay's side, and Clay asked him,
"Why are you in such a hurry to take off your armor? Although there's not much danger in White Harbor, there are quite a few pirates on the waters of Biting Bay."
The captain of the guards shook his head and whispered to Clay,
"Young master, you must reduce your weight while on the ship. Otherwise, when the waves rise and the rocking is too great, your stamina will be drained by the armor."
He glanced at Clay's armor and immediately began to remove it for his young master.
"You don't board ships often, so it's normal that you don't know these things. I'll take this armor off for you; it's useless. This isn't over a decade ago; the pirates in Biting Bay don't dare to fight our White Harbor's sailing ships."
Since the captain of the guard had said so, Clay didn't insist. Surrounded by so many people, he didn't need to worry about his safety unless the ship sank. As for if the ship did sink, that suit of armor would be the best helper to sink to the bottom.
Entering the private cabin arranged for him, Clay experienced the new world of the White Harbor Old Man.
.....
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(End of Chapter)