Lynn was counting the treasures inside the chest.
This was the very last remaining box from the Stydde treasure seized at Biting Bay.
He clapped his hands together, straightened up, and stretched lazily.
A total of 55 Gold Dragons and 89 Silver Stags, along with some loose copper coins and several pieces of jewelry that looked quite decent.
Lynn clicked his tongue, clearly satisfied with the amount.
"Not bad."
He summoned Maester Old Hill.
Ten Gold Dragons were placed into the old man's hands—this was the remaining payment for the two shipments from Widow's Watch and White Harbor, as well as the final wages for the hired laborers.
The early-stage costs for building materials were also included.
After handing over the coins, Lynn instructed Old Hill to help watch over his territory.
This decision had not been made lightly.
Lynn's late father, Viscount Rothschild, had planned this land and established the fishing port long ago, and Old Hill had already been serving here as the maester back then.
Nearly thirty years had passed since.
That alone showed how deeply trusted Old Hill had been by Lynn's "cheap" father.
Such loyalty was rare in itself.
Besides, Lynn had no better options—Rodat and the guard captain Hood had to accompany him south.
Three days passed in the blink of an eye.
After sorting out the remaining trivial matters within the city,
Lynn boarded a seagoing vessel with a thirty-man escort—twenty cavalry soldiers and ten attendants—and set sail toward the Trident.
Left behind to guard the fishing port were fifteen cavalrymen responsible for city defense and five guards tasked with maintaining order.
It wasn't a large force, but it wasn't small either.
Lynn didn't expect this southern trip to take too long.
And there were no major hostile forces around the fishing port.
The protection money to White Harbor in the north had been paid, and the pirates of Biting Bay to the south had been wiped out completely—now that land belonged to him.
He could leave with peace of mind for a while.
Three freshly repainted two-masted sailing ships sailed out to sea side by side.
Lynn lay back in a deck chair, enjoying the gentle sea breeze. The ship's first mate, Compani, had the sailors prepare some ale and fruit, placing them on a temporary table beside him.
As the ship passed through the waters of Biting Bay, the sea was fairly calm.
Once they exited the bay and followed the current southward, they quickly entered the eastern coastal waters of the Vale of Arryn.
Along the coast stretched the Fingers Peninsula extending from the Mountains of the Moon, as well as a lone island suspended offshore—Runestone Island.
From this point on, they were already within the Narrow Sea. Merchant ships traveling between the coast of Essos and Westeros could be seen in increasing numbers.
Most of them departed from the port of Braavos, unloading goods at the Fingers Peninsula of the Vale, then passing through the Neck before transporting them overland westward or northward.
With both current and wind in their favor,
Lynn's ship moved swiftly.
They set out in the morning, and by sunset arrived exactly at the great southeastern coastal city of the Vale—Runestone.
This was the seat of House Royce. Situated on the southeastern coast of the Vale, north of Gulltown, it was essentially a half-port city.
Compani planned to dock at the harbor for the night to replenish fresh water and food.
Lynn agreed. Disguised as a merchant, with five or six guards at his side, he disembarked.
The sun had not yet fully sunk below the horizon.
Yet the lights of the harbor were already gradually being lit.
Lynn was slightly surprised by how prosperous the place was, but then he thought again—across the Narrow Sea lay the famous Bay of Braavos. The richest people in the world lived just across that stretch of water.
The Iron Bank, wealth rivaling nations, was there as well.
Walking from the docks into the city, every stretch of road was paved with cobblestones. The footing was comfortable, and the cost of construction was clearly not cheap.
By noble custom, Lynn should have paid a visit to the earl of the city, Yohn Royce.
But since he intended to head south under a concealed identity, he naturally wouldn't be foolish enough to expose himself.
On a bustling street near the harbor, Lynn found an inn and decided to stay the night.
The inn was a two-story brick building, its exterior walls coated with gray-white lime plaster, giving it a relatively clean appearance.
The first floor served as a tavern and dining hall, while the second floor housed the rooms.
The guard captain quickly handled the arrangements with the innkeeper and paid for the rooms. Just as the group was about to head upstairs via the crescent-shaped staircase in the corner of the tavern—
A rough, booming voice called out from behind Lynn:
"Kid, you're from the North, aren't you?"
Hm?
Lynn stopped and turned around.
At a round table not far away sat five or six burly men. A black-bearded man with a thick mustache was glaring at Lynn sideways, staring at him rudely.
The others beside him wore similarly ferocious grins.
Judging by their clothes, they looked like local sailors.
Among them, a skinny, monkey-like fellow was openly letting his gaze linger on Lynn's waist, clearly eyeing the sheathed short blade there.
His small eyes were filled with naked greed.
Lynn had seen this skinny man before.
When he disembarked at the docks of Runestone earlier, this fellow had been sneaking around suspiciously, only to be chased off by Hood's sharp eyes.
"So what if I'm from the North? And so what if I'm not?"
Lynn raised a hand to stop the furious Hood and asked calmly.
The black-bearded man smacked his lips. "This place doesn't welcome Northerners."
Lynn frowned slightly and said, "The current Protector of the Vale—isn't he Lady Lysa Tully's son?"
The man stood up at once and snarled, "So what?"
Lynn curled his lips into a faint smile. "Oh, nothing. I just wanted to make sure you're not that nursing child."
Laughter immediately burst out among the tavern patrons.
Lynn continued, "Besides, House Tully is currently allied with the North. Perhaps Lady Lysa may also choose to ally the Vale with the North because of that. Who knows—maybe in a few days, Northerners and Vale men will be family. The world is unpredictable, isn't it?"
Half analysis, half smooth talk, Lynn left the drunken black-beard completely dumbfounded.
He knew Lynn's words were somewhat far-fetched, yet they also seemed to make a bit of sense. But exactly where they were wrong—he couldn't say.
After a long pause, he finally muttered, "You're talking nonsense."
His face was already flushed bright red.
Lynn found it boring. He shook his head and couldn't be bothered with this fool any further.
Turning around, he took a step toward the staircase.
At that moment, another voice rang out from the center of the hall.
It was sharp and thin, carrying a heavy foreign accent. "Lady Lysa may indeed come from House Tully, but that's ancient history. Now she is the Lady of the Vale and represents the interests of the Vale. She would never ally with the North."
"That's right! Exactly!"
The black-bearded man hurried to echo him.
The ferocity on his face now carried an extra edge of cold hostility.
Lynn was starting to lose his patience.
What did the Northerners ever do to you, to deserve this blatant discrimination?
As a noble of the North, being openly looked down upon like this right in front of him—
Lynn turned to look at the Essosi man in the hall and said coldly, "Since when do Essosi care so much about the affairs of Westeros?"
The people of Runestone Island having some hostility toward the North was something Lynn could understand. After all, this place was very close to King's Landing. If the Vale sided with the North, the royal fleet could probably reach here in a single day and loot Runestone Island first.
That wasn't just speculation.
The Lannisters owed the Iron Bank an enormous sum, and Emperor Joffrey and Queen Cersei were both notorious spendthrifts. A rich, nearby piece of meat like Runestone Island—right under their noses—
With a legitimate pretext, they were absolutely capable of looting their own subjects.
But the people provoking him now were clearly not doing it out of concern for the realm.
Lynn noticed that the skinny man's greedy gaze was still fixed on the Valyrian steel short blade at his waist.
A cold smile slowly spread across Lynn's lips.
...
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Here are a few fan-fic titles that I've recently uploaded on my Patreon:
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(End Chapter)