If Lord Randyll Tarly Has Any Objections, He Can Come and Tell Me Himself!
There were many possible routes from the Blackwood Vale to the Eyrie of the Vale.
Karl could have returned westward toward Fairmarket, crossed the wooden bridge there over the Tumblestone, then continued north after finding a suitable crossing over the Green Fork. From there, he could reach the King's Road, and once on that ancient highway, the entirety of the Vale would lie open before him, allowing him to choose his path freely.
Alternatively, after crossing the Tumblestone, he could double back toward Riverrun and pass through the relatively flat lands of the Riverlands before entering the mountainous terrain of the Vale. From there, as long as he passed through the mountain roads leading to Redfort, he could continue onward to the Eyrie itself.
Under normal circumstances—and even under the current state of war—both routes were relatively safe and feasible.
However, neither of them suited Karl.
And more importantly, neither of them was necessary.
For this journey into the Vale, Karl brought only five people in total, including himself. After separating from the main Northern force, he crossed the river near the Kneeling Man and found a small riverboat waiting on the opposite bank. From there, they sailed downstream along the Red Fork, following the current toward the Trident.
Their destination was a modest riverside town in the Riverlands, located on the edge of Crackclaw Bay—Saltpans.
Saltpans was no great port of trade. Its harbor was shallow, and its docks were simple. The town was ruled by a landed knightly house—the Cox family—whose influence extended little beyond the nearby fishing villages and salt flats.
Yet its location made it useful.
As Karl, Jon Snow, and the others traveled by riverboat, they passed Lord Harroway's Town and continued eastward along the Red Fork. Not long after, Karl noticed something unusual on the riverbank ahead.
A conspicuous group of people was preparing to cross the river.
They were conspicuous not because they wore the red and gold colors of the Lannisters.
In fact, it was precisely the opposite.
Their clothing was uniformly black.
There were only about a dozen of them in total. More than half were confined inside crude wooden cages, while three men dressed in black cloaks stood guard, herding the prisoners forward.
"They're from the Night's Watch," Jon Snow said quietly, stepping closer to the railing.
Jory Cassel, standing nearby, shook his head. "Not quite. They're ravens—recruiters for the Night's Watch."
Karl recalled the term. Ravens were officers sent south to gather new recruits, often from prisons and dungeons.
But this raised a troubling question.
With war raging across the Riverlands, how had a Night's Watch recruitment party managed to cross such dangerous territory and head north unscathed?
Karl narrowed his eyes, studying the group more carefully. After a moment, something seemed to click.
"Bring us closer," Karl ordered suddenly. "We'll ask them ourselves. They might know something about the Lannisters."
No one objected. The boatman adjusted course, steering the riverboat toward the shore where the Night's Watch party stood.
On the riverbank, the man leading the group noticed the approaching boat. His eyes sharpened with caution. He gestured subtly to his two companions before stepping forward.
"I am Avery," he announced, his voice steady. "A raven of the Night's Watch. We are escorting new recruits to Castle Black. We have no intention of involving ourselves in the affairs of the realm."
Avery had already noted their equipment. The men on the boat were well-armed, well-armored—clearly not common soldiers. At the very least, they were knights or men of status.
Yet no one responded immediately.
The boat scraped gently against the shore. A moment later, a towering figure stepped off onto the riverbank.
Karl Stone.
He stood like a black iron tower, his presence alone exerting pressure.
"Raven?" Karl said simply, his gaze sweeping past Avery and settling on the group behind him.
Six men had been released from the cages. Including Avery, there were only three men wearing the black of the Watch.
Karl's attention lingered briefly—then shifted.
His eyes fixed on a pale, chubby man standing awkwardly among them, nervously holding the reins of a warhorse.
The man looked completely out of place.
"Yes, my lord," Avery replied cautiously. "I came from Highgarden. These men are bound for Castle Black."
Karl nodded once.
"I am Ser Karl Stone," he said, allowing a faint smile. "It's an honor to meet you, Avery of the Night's Watch. I hope I haven't interrupted your duties."
Avery smiled stiffly. You already have, he thought.
The name Stone made his heart skip. A bastard's name—but spoken with authority.
Before Avery could respond further, Hall stepped forward proudly.
"The man before you," Hall announced, "is the knight recently appointed by His Majesty as Lord of the Warden of the East."
Karl winced internally and raised a hand, stopping him.
"That has nothing to do with the Night's Watch," Karl said calmly. "Their honor stands above worldly titles."
Privately, Karl cursed Robert's recklessness. He was still a landless knight with no holdings to his name. Bestowing such a title on him was nothing but trouble.
Seeing Avery's expression change, Karl smoothly redirected the conversation.
"I didn't intend to delay you," Karl said. "I only wish to ask how you managed to pass through this region. The Riverlands and Crownlands are crawling with Lannister forces."
"And if possible," he continued, "I'd like to hear everything you've seen—on the King's authority."
Avery's head began to ache.
Circumstances had left him with no choice.
"My destination is Saltpans," Karl added. "It's not safe here. Come with me. We'll speak there."
By the time they reached Saltpans, night had fallen.
The sun dipped behind the hills, leaving only a shy sliver of crimson light on the horizon.
They were greeted by Ser Quincy Cox, an elderly knight whose mind had begun to wander with age. His sons handled most of the formalities.
After dinner, Karl excused himself and summoned Jon Snow, Jory Cassel, Hall, and Kennedy of the Black Stone Mercenaries.
Across from them sat Avery, three Night's Watchmen—
—and the chubby man.
His head remained lowered. His fingers twisted nervously.
A noble heir.
A man who had "volunteered" for the Night's Watch.
Samwell Tarly.
As Avery recounted his journey—from Highgarden to King's Landing, imprisonment in Harrenhal, and release by Tywin Lannister—Karl's expression remained calm.
Yet his thoughts churned.
Where was Gregor Clegane?
Where was Amory Lorch?
Why was Harrenhal quiet?
Something was wrong.
When Avery finished, Karl looked to Sam.
"I don't know your name," Karl said mildly.
"I—I am Samwell Tarly," the man replied shakily.
Karl studied him for a long moment.
Then smiled.
"My company lacks a steward," Karl said calmly. "Your Night's Watch journey ends here."
The room froze.
"If Lord Randyll Tarly objects," Karl continued, his voice steady and absolute,
"he can come and tell me himself."
And with that, Karl Stone turned and walked out.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)