Chapter 5: He's Adorable, Isn't He?
The warm scene only stirred Glyn's heart for a moment.
There were some things Glyn couldn't immediately adapt to in such a short time.
In Glyn's memory, the image of Carlaia was frozen from over a year ago... a timid little girl who followed Surana around.
He first marveled at the speed of maturation in this world.
But what was Glyn thinking at this moment?
In truth, the focus of his thoughts was that... the fortress's security measures needed to be strengthened. No matter how high Glyn's vigilance was, or how much he trusted his own martial prowess, there was no sense in relying solely on his own alertness day in and day out. It was foolish and would wear him down to the bone.
Furthermore, the important personnel and key locations within the territory all needed enhanced protection.
Ahem, one must always be wary of a vulnerable neck; a dagger could slice across it at any moment.
When he had the means, he considered buying some Unsullied to serve as guards.
The Unsullied were dependable.
He would keep two Unsullied posted outside his door at all times.
A fantasy from an impoverished lord.
...
A faint smile appeared on Glyn's face. "Carlaia, it's been a while. Has Lady Surana started assigning you duties?"
"I wish to be my lord's handmaiden, but my mother feels I'm not yet mature enough and need more training. She told me I must satisfy her first before I can become a handmaiden in your service."
"But I couldn't wait, so I chose to see you directly. Please forgive my rudeness."
Her reasoning was sound. Surana was being responsible, and Carlaia's seemingly rash actions were also for the sake of serving her lord.
As a family member of one of the lord's trusted retainers, she wouldn't be punished for this.
Glyn also took his bath, putting on his nightclothes with Carlaia's assistance.
Glyn took the red wine Carlaia offered and had a sip, his brow furrowing involuntarily.
Sour red wine, one of the specialties of the Clegane lands.
He had no idea how it was brewed... to be this sour.
Was it a problem with the grape varietal?
Good-tasting red wine had to be imported and was too expensive. He would just have to make do.
Hmm, after savoring it, the flavor was actually acceptable... Setting down the wine glass, he had no desire to drink any more.
Lord Glyn now had one more reason for his quest for supremacy.
...
The night passed without a word.
Glyn first arranged for Carlaia to follow Maester Al.
Maester Al was too old, walking with a tottering gait. Lord Glyn was deeply concerned for Maester Al's life.
When a lord's Maester passed away, the Citadel would immediately arrange for a new one to take his place. But the Citadel was far away, and the vacancy would last at least three months. In all of The Whispers, only Maester Al knew how to send a raven.
This included the daily feeding and management of the ravens.
The raven was the most crucial means of communication, and Glyn valued it greatly.
All of the above were things Carlaia needed to learn and master.
Glyn had too many things to do and not enough talented people on hand. A literate person like Carlaia was a rare find.
Most importantly, Carlaia was reliable and could be trusted.
...
Knight Ma finally returned.
According to the census, there were a total of 13 smiths in the territory, and slightly more woodworkers, at 32.
Apprentices would be assigned at the same time. The process would be broken down, with each learning only one step to begin with, which would allow for rapid progress.
The framework for the workshops was barely sufficient.
Answering the lord's summons, these craftsmen would bring their families and move over one household at a time.
Herschel, the steward of The Whispers, was responsible for their settlement.
...
The Whispers, the Lord's Study.
Lord Glyn, Ser Pyle, Knight Ma, and Maester Al—the four of them held a military council regarding the Mountain Clansmen.
Glyn's original plan was to tire out the enemy and use a fire attack, striving to deal with the Mountain Clansmen without any casualties.
There was plenty of withered grass around, perfect for setting ablaze. For areas near water sources, they could even dig trenches.
Regarding the details of warfare, Glyn's memories were mainly of following his mother's command, leading a group of men to cut down the fish that slipped through the net.
After listening to their accounts, Glyn concluded... that waging war here was a bit like arranging a showdown.
The Whispers would send someone to negotiate. If battle was unavoidable, they would set a time and place.
At the appointed time and place, the two groups would then fight it out.
It was exactly like arranging a showdown!
Glyn tapped the table a few times, drawing the attention of those present.
"Ser Pyle, I will have Herschel prepare shields, longswords, and crossbows for you, as well as 10 men-at-arms. You will then go and conscript another 90 men, focusing on recruiting veteran hunters."
"Once you're done, you will have 100 men under your command."
"...I am naming it the Scouting Corps. You will be its first commander."
"Find more people who are familiar with the terrain. While Knight Ma and I are fighting the Mountain Clansmen, I expect you to already be a guest in their homes."
"I've had enough of the Wildlings' harassment. This time, I will flatten them."
"I need a large number of captives. The construction of the territory requires a large population. The more captives, the greater the merit."
The method of warfare was slightly more complex than in the past, but it wasn't difficult to understand. Ser Pyle grasped it quickly.
Ser Pyle solemnly accepted the order.
Maester Al spoke with a trembling voice, "Lord Glyn, I have a map. In my spare time, I have always paid attention to news of the Wildlings, and I have been organizing and recording it for years. The Wildlings' areas of activity and the locations of their old lairs are marked on the map. There may be some discrepancies, but it should be largely accurate. I hope it can be of help to you."
Glyn placed a hand over his heart and said solemnly, "Thank you for your contribution, Maester Al. House Clegane will never forget your service."
...
...
King's Landing, the Red Keep.
Cersei Lannister clutched a letter in her hand, greedily enjoying the caresses of Jaime Lannister.
After a long while, Cersei Lannister rose, grabbing a nearby red robe and draping it over her body.
Though over thirty, Cersei Lannister still had a slender figure and fair, delicate skin.
Cersei Lannister picked up a wine carafe and filled a glass, taking a large gulp of red wine to soothe her dry throat.
Seeing Cersei pick up the letter to read it again, Jaime Lannister revealed an indulgent smile.
Jaime Lannister's smile always carried a dashing air.
"That boy is a born sycophant."
The corners of Cersei Lannister's mouth turned up, and she habitually raised her sharp chin as she spoke.
"Jaime, you don't understand me. He does."
"Courage and beauty in one. I like this beginning."
Jaime said helplessly, "That boy is anything but honest."
Cersei walked over to Jaime, caressing his handsome face. She smiled and said, "Jaime, you can't possibly be jealous of a child, can you? My dress ought to be on you."
Jaime Lannister did not deign to answer the question of whether he was jealous.
"Are you planning to take him on this hunt?"
"He's adorable, isn't he?"
(end of chapter)