Chapter 69: Sir Simon's Ambition
The moment Ser Daeron Grafson plunged into the dense reeds, the Fossoway knight commanding the Wilder cavalry reacted instantly, dispatching six of his riders to hunt the man down.
With the pursuit underway, he wheeled his horse around and led his remaining forces in a charge, slamming into the rear of the White Wall City Ghost Caravan. The bandits, caught completely off guard, were now trapped between two attacking forces.
Their situation was made worse by the sudden disappearance of their leader, Ser Daeron. Panic began to set in. Soon, the bandits' lines broke. Aside from a handful of elite warriors still holding their ground around Sir Shalit, the rest scattered in every direction, vanishing into the labyrinthine reeds.
Deeper within the marsh, Daeron Grafson scrambled to keep up with Rohr, his rescuer. The sounds of the pursuit faded behind them; their pursuers, unfamiliar with the terrain, were quickly lost in the disorienting landscape.
Rohr, who knew the Wilder forces' deployments in the reeds intimately, guided Daeron on a winding path. They skirted the abandoned fishing village, finally emerging onto a quiet river beach to its east.
A small fishing boat was moored at the bank. Without a word, Rohr led Daeron aboard, pushed off from the shore, and began rowing toward the north bank.
Ian, of course, could not have come to rescue Ser Daeron himself. He was already embedded with the Wilder forces, acting in a capacity similar to a 'think tank.' For his own safety and to maintain his cover, he had to remain in the most secure location—the abandoned fishing village. A sudden disappearance would raise too many questions.
Rohr, whom Ian had sent to lie in wait just outside the reeds, was the perfect man for the job.
Now, all that was left was for Rohr to keep Ser Daeron under his control until Ian could find the right moment to meet him.
"You're safe now, Ser Daeron," Rohr said, his voice even. The fishing boat was now dozens of yards from the shore, gliding through the calm water.
Ser Daeron, still in shock, was breathing heavily. "My thanks, sir," he managed to say. He didn't address Rohr as a knight; the man wore only a simple suit of armor, not the garb of a nobleman.
This, too, was part of Ian's design. It ensured that even if a Wilder patrol spotted Rohr from a distance, they wouldn't connect him to the squire known as 'Old Dog,' who was always seen beside Ser Lucian in distinctive, light-green full plate.
"You saved my life," Daeron insisted, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. "You are a true warrior. I should make you a knight."
"It is my master you should thank," Rohr replied, deflecting the offer. "He is the one who saved you."
"Your master?" Daeron's brow furrowed. "Then where is he? Where is Sir Simon? I have a great many questions that demand his answers!"
Though he had been rescued by one of Simon's men, their entire operation was in shambles. Simon, who should have known every detail of the Wilder's movements, bore the ultimate responsibility. Daeron needed to understand just how badly the Darry bastard brothers had failed him.
Rohr's next words were cold and sharp. "Sir Simon? That traitor? He was the one who betrayed us. He led the Wilders to attack the village ahead of schedule. He killed Sir Aris."
"What did you say?" Daeron recoiled in horror. "Aris is… dead?" He stumbled backward, nearly toppling over the side of the boat. He would have fallen into the river if Rohr hadn't reached out and steadied him.
Shaken, Daeron stared at his rescuer. "And you… you said you were with Sir Simon. Why would you call him a traitor?"
"My master is Ser Ian Rivers," Rohr explained calmly. "He is Sir Aris's other brother."
A flicker of suspicion entered Daeron's eyes. "I have never heard Aris speak of such a brother."
"Ser Ian was not born of the same mother as Ser Aris and Ser Simon," Rohr elaborated. "It was only half a year ago that Ser Raymond introduced him to them. But both Aris and Simon were… reluctant to acknowledge their younger brother."
"Aris is a proud man," Daeron scoffed. "If he refused to recognize Ian Rivers, it can only mean this half-brother of his is a failure." The words left his mouth before he could stop them, and he immediately felt a pang of regret. It was poor form to insult the master of the man who had just saved his life.
He wanted to apologize, but his pride as a highborn lord held him back. Fortunately, Rohr didn't let the awkward silence linger.
"That was only at the beginning, of course," Rohr said smoothly, a testament to the adaptability that made Ian trust him with such a vital task. "In the time that followed, Ser Aris's opinion of Ser Ian began to change."
"Then why did Aris never mention this brother to me?"
"I do not know, ser," Rohr said, shaking his head. "Perhaps that is a question you should ask my master yourself."
"Where is your master? Is he waiting for us on the north shore?"
"No. He is evading Sir Simon's men as we speak. I don't know his exact location, but he will find us on the north bank as soon as he has shaken his pursuers."
"Why would Simon pursue him? And why would Simon betray us in the first place?"
"It is a long story, ser. Not long ago, Ser Arys revealed your plan to my master and to Ser Simon."
"Aris swore an oath not to tell anyone," Daeron interrupted sharply.
"Oh, I know nothing of that, ser. I only know that he told them. They are his own brothers, after all, are they not?"
Daeron gave a helpless nod, grudgingly accepting the explanation.
"Sir Simon," Rohr continued, "was vehemently opposed to the plan. He was terrified of the consequences."
"That sounds like Simon," Daeron muttered. "He always was a coward. It's why I made Aris swear the oath to begin with. He trusted his brother too much. What happened next?"
"Ser Aris managed to persuade him, and Simon agreed to continue with your plan. But no one could have predicted what he did next. The moment he left, he betrayed Ser Aris and went straight to the Wilders."
Rohr paused, letting the weight of the treachery sink in.
"My master believes Sir Simon did it to win favor with the Iron Throne. If Simon himself testifies that Ser Raymond Darry led a rebellion, his own father and brother will be put to death for treason."
"The bastard!" Daeron spat, his face contorted with rage.
"And then," Rohr concluded, his voice grim, "as a loyal servant of House Baratheon who rooted out traitors in his own family, King Robert would surely grant him the Darry name and make him Lord of Darry Hall."
"My master, Ser Ian, has naturally become a thorn in Simon's side. That is why he sent me to rescue you. It was not just to save your life, ser. He needs your help."
"Help?" Daeron's expression flickered. The fire in his eyes dimmed, replaced by a cautious uncertainty. "But… I have lost my cavalry. I don't know what help I can possibly offer him now."
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