Linde stood outside his tent, tossing chunks of freshly cut meat far away. He let Glory run out to grab them, then rewarded it by allowing it to eat.
This was a form of obedience training. At the beginning, Glory would simply eat the meat on the spot. After being punished several times by Linde, it learned that it wasn't allowed to eat the meat freely and gradually changed its behavior on its own, bringing the meat back instead.
Even so, during training there was still about a fifty percent chance that Glory would sneakily eat the meat anyway. But compared to a day ago, this was already a huge improvement. Linde believed that with another month or two of training, Glory would be able to completely obey his commands.
Compared to the visible results of obedience training, Glory's feral nature showed almost no improvement. At present, Linde could only ensure that Glory wouldn't bite people indiscriminately. But once someone got too close, Glory would still attack without hesitation.
Because of this, Linde had no choice but to train Glory only when no one was around. When there were many people present, he would either put Glory into a cloth pouch, or chain it to himself and fit a specially made muzzle over its mouth.
While waiting for Glory to bring the meat back, Linde occasionally turned his head to glance at his tent.
Earlier, after returning to the camp, Linde had brought the Faceless Man, Bovo—who was disguised as a Tyrell soldier—into his tent, where they saw the girl whose heart was already dead, with only her body still alive.
In front of others, the girl showed no emotion at all. But when she saw Linde, her savior, a trace of emotion appeared on her face. That emotion, however, was not gratitude for saving her life, but rather something closer to a wish that Linde would kill her now.
The moment the Faceless Man saw her, he immediately confirmed that this was the purpose for which the Many-Faced God had plucked the strings of fate and guided him to the continent of Westeros.
Unfortunately, the girl was now like a corpse—utterly unresponsive to the outside world, let alone capable of conversation.
After several attempts failed to elicit any reaction from her, the Faceless Man Bovo asked Linde to wait outside the tent for a while so he could be alone with the girl.
After confirming that the Faceless Man would not harm her, Linde agreed. He went outside but didn't go far, sitting just a few steps away. While training Glory, he also kept an eye on what was happening inside the tent.
What surprised Linde was that despite being so close to the tent, he couldn't hear a single sound from inside—not even breathing. None of his other senses detected any movement either, as if the tent were completely empty.
This was clearly not something ordinary power could achieve. It might even involve the divine power of the Many-Faced God. This made Linde wonder just what level Bovo held within the House of Black and White. Judging by his ability to wield even a bit of supernatural power, his status should be roughly comparable to Melisandre's position within the Lord of Light's faith.
While Linde was lost in thought, the tent flap was pulled open by the Faceless Man. He looked slightly exhausted, but there was a smile on his face—it seemed he had successfully persuaded the girl.
He walked toward Linde, about to speak, when his expression suddenly changed. His body shifted sharply to the side. Almost at the same moment he moved, a black shadow burst out from behind him, brushing past his body.
The Faceless Man turned to look at the attacker and discovered it was the white albino shadow lynx cub he recognized.
Because Linde spent so much time with Glory, he wasn't keenly aware of the changes in its body. He could only judge its growth by its increasing size and weight.
Bovo, however, was different. He had seen Glory back at the Kingsguard barracks and knew exactly what it used to be like. Seeing it now, he realized that Glory hadn't just grown much larger—it had also become far more ferocious. This ferocity wasn't just reflected in the sudden attack earlier, but more so in the black stripes on its body. As they spread out, they vaguely formed a ghostly face-like pattern, and the dark markings on its forehead made it look especially vicious.
"Why has its wild nature grown so strong?" Bovo couldn't help but ask.
Unfortunately, Linde was destined to give no answer, because he himself wanted to know why Glory had become so feral.
Though curious about Glory's condition, Bovo knew what mattered most and didn't dwell on it. He returned to the main topic and said, "She isn't in any condition to move right now. Can you find a few people to carry her on a stretcher to the docks for me?"
Linde didn't respond immediately. Instead, he went back into the tent to check on the girl.
From the vitality that had returned to her expression, it wasn't hard to see that Bovo had likely convinced her. Yet beneath that spark of life, Linde could faintly sense an intense hatred.
"Have you really decided to go with him across the Narrow Sea to Braavos?" Linde squatted beside the bed and looked at her. "If you don't want to, I can take you in."
The girl shook her head. She tried to speak, but her throat seemed injured and no words came out. Even without words, Linde could tell her decision from her expression.
"I understand," Linde said softly. "May the Seven bless you, and may you live well across the Narrow Sea, never to be harmed again."
He reached out and gently touched her forehead, murmuring a quiet blessing.
Gratitude appeared in the girl's eyes, and tears spilled from the corners.
Linde stood up and went outside the tent. He had Raoul call over four men and fetch a stretcher. They moved the girl onto it, covered her with a blanket, and carried her out of the tent.
As they were leaving, Linde felt someone tug at his hand. He looked down and saw the girl lifting her injured hand with all her strength, clutching his arm. Then, in an extremely hoarse voice, she made a sound that was completely indistinct.
Though it didn't resemble any language, Linde understood that she was saying thank you.
Linde patted her hand, gently tucked it back under the blanket, and then placed the dagger at his waist—the one Garlan had given him after the cavalry unit was formed—beside her.
"Take good care of her," Linde said to the Faceless Man.
The Faceless Man smiled. "She is my student. Naturally, I will take good care of her."
The group left the camp and soon disappeared from Linde's sight.
They moved quickly, passing straight through the slums outside the city. With the deterrence of four Tyrell soldiers, they encountered no trouble at all and smoothly reached the docks.
Under the Faceless Man's direction, the four men carried the girl aboard a merchant ship moored at the pier, flying the banner of the Free Cities. They brought her to a room on the upper deck beside the captain's quarters.
After the four soldiers disembarked, the Faceless Man ordered the captain to set sail. Although there was still cargo yet to be loaded, the captain didn't dare hesitate due to the Faceless Man's special status. He immediately summoned the sailors and raised the sails.
Watching the ship slowly leave the harbor, pass the winch tower, and enter the waters of Blackwater Bay, the Faceless Man finally turned and returned to his cabin.
He walked to the bedside, sat on a stool, and looked at the girl, who was turning her head to gaze at the night outside the window.
"Whatever your name was before," he said, "from this moment on, you must abandon it—just like you abandon your past."
Hearing this, the girl turned to look at him. There was no sign of resistance on her face; instead, her eyes held a trace of relief.
"I will give you a new name," Bovo continued. "This will mark your rebirth."
The girl nodded slightly, indicating her consent.
"You'll take my surname—H'ghar. As for your given name…" The Faceless Man thought for a moment, then said, "Jaqen. Jaqen H'ghar."
Early the next morning, before Linde had gotten out of bed, the sudden lifting of the tent flap startled him. As he looked toward the entrance, his hand moved to the axe beside him, ready to counterattack at any moment.
"It's me. No need to be nervous," Fotimo said. Noticing Linde's reaction, approval flashed across his face before he returned to his usual stern expression. "Get up quickly, get dressed, and go to the main tent. There are orders."
Linde rubbed his face hard to wake himself up, quickly changed into some clothes, hung his sword at his waist, scooped up the still half-asleep Glory from the bed, stuffed it into the cloth pouch against his chest, and hurried out of the tent toward the main camp tent.
When he entered, he clearly saw who was inside—and froze for a moment.
Besides Garlan and Fotimo, there were several Tyrell bannermen whom Linde didn't recognize but could guess the identities of. In addition, Duke Mace Tyrell himself was seated in the central position of the tent.
Though Linde didn't know what had happened earlier, he could tell it wasn't good news. Mace Tyrell's face was dark enough to drip water, his expression filled with rage. His lips moved as he muttered something, but it was impossible to make out what he was saying.
The atmosphere in the tent was already heavy due to the gathering of so many Rose household dignitaries. Now it had become extremely tense. The duke—mocked by the Queen of Thorns as a "pufferfish"—looked like an overinflated bubble, ready to burst at any moment.
When Linde entered, everyone in the tent turned to look at him.
The pressure of so many gazes would be enough to throw an ordinary person into confusion, leading them to make some improper mistake.
Yet Linde remained completely calm, as if those gazes didn't exist at all. His mental fortitude far surpassed that of the others present.
"Greetings, Duke. Greetings, my lords," Linde said, bowing toward Mace Tyrell in the main seat.
The duke ignored Linde's salute and turned to Fotimo instead. "He's your knight's squire—the one they call the Bear Hunter, correct?"
Fotimo nodded. "Yes, my lord."
"Is he really as capable as you say?" Mace Tyrell asked again.
"Yes. As long as he wields dual swords, his strength won't be much inferior to mine," Fotimo replied. "Among the several hundred people in this camp, he's the best candidate I can think of to perfectly replace me."
"In that case, it's him," Duke Mace said. Without asking Linde's opinion or explaining the situation, he simply told the man who had just entered the tent that he could leave and return to his quarters to await further arrangements.
Being treated like some commodity to be picked and dismissed made Linde feel stifled, but he didn't show it on his face. Hearing that he could leave, he slightly lowered his head, exited the tent, and returned to his own, sitting quietly and waiting for someone to explain.
Not long after, Garlan and Fotimo entered together. Garlan apologized to Linde for his father's rude behavior earlier, then, before Linde could ask, explained the reason.
It turned out that the Tyrell knights and warriors originally slated to participate in the melee competition had all come down with severe vomiting and diarrhea—apparently food poisoning. They were now so weak that even standing up and walking a few steps was difficult, let alone fighting with weapons.
As a result, House Tyrell needed to select new participants for the melee. Choosing replacements was extremely difficult, and after long discussions, they still couldn't reach a decision—or rather, there had been one proposal, but it was rejected.
That proposal was to have Fotimo, the renowned swordmaster of the Reach, participate in the melee. With Fotimo's swordsmanship and a few soldiers assisting him, the chances of winning would be very high.
However, Fotimo was already registered for the knightly tourney. While participating in both wasn't forbidden, melees were chaotic and dangerous. If he were injured and unable to compete in the knightly tourney, it would be an enormous loss for Fotimo—especially since an event of this scale might never happen again.
So Garlan suggested that Linde take part in the melee instead, ensuring that Fotimo wouldn't be affected.
The knights and nobles who had come from Highgarden with Garlan all supported the idea. They had seen Linde's formidable swordsmanship firsthand, especially his ability to fight multiple opponents at once, which far surpassed that of ordinary knights.
The people who had remained in King's Landing with Duke Tyrell after the War of the Usurper, however, didn't know how strong Linde was. That was why they had summoned him to the main tent—to take a look at him.
Although Linde hadn't demonstrated any swordsmanship in front of them, his tall, powerful build alone was enough proof. And just like that, Linde passively became one of the melee participants.
After hearing this, Linde asked in confusion, "Why is it so important to participate in the melee? If I remember correctly, those lords don't really value it. Even if House Tyrell didn't take part, there shouldn't be any damage to your reputation, right?"
Hearing the question, Garlan's face turned awkward. He gestured toward Fotimo, then turned and left.
Fotimo quickly and simply explained. Apparently, when our pufferfish lord learned that several great houses wouldn't be sending anyone to the melee, his confidence instantly inflated. He believed he would surely win, so he borrowed a large sum of money to bet on his own house. If no one participated—or if they lost—not only would he have to repay a huge debt, he'd also become a laughingstock in King's Landing. That was why he'd been furious first thing in the morning.
Faced with this situation, Linde could only laugh helplessly and state that he would prepare seriously.
...
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(End Chapter)