In front of the Kingpyre Tower, there was a small barracks. Standing before it were over twenty Dreadfort soldiers. One look was enough to tell they were elites; their armor was sturdy and heavy, reflecting the metallic texture under the sunlight.
Two of them, clearly officer-level soldiers, wore armor coated with a dark red glaze. From certain angles, it looked as if they had just been drenched in fresh blood.
One of them stepped forward and said, "Lord Jon, you and Lady Arya may enter, but your guards cannot!"
The guards Jon brought were all pulled from the "Heavy Armored Battalion." Standing there like iron towers, their murderous aura was no less intense than these Dreadfort soldiers.
Jon brought them along partly to observe the defenses in the Kingpyre Tower and partly to test the extent of Roose Bolton's wariness towards him. He hadn't expected Bolton to be this cautious.
He had originally planned to unite with other lords, each bringing a few guards to meet Roose Bolton, and then launch a sudden attack. It seemed this path was blocked; he had to think of another way.
"It seems Tywin's heavy armored troops left quite a shadow on our Lord Bolton," Jon teased, then turned back and said, "Alright, you guys stay here."
Leaving the heavy armored guards behind, Jon entered the small barracks, which housed about three to five hundred soldiers. Just like the last time he met Roose Bolton, this group looked ready for a formidable enemy.
Those chatting shut their mouths, those sparring stopped their movements, and every gaze converged on Jon.
Arya also sensed the atmosphere was off and rested her hand on the hilt of her sword.
"Relax." Jon patted Arya's shoulder. Together they ascended the stairs. Along the way, he pretended to count casually and found that there were nearly a hundred soldiers inside the Kingpyre Tower alone.
It seemed Roose Bolton was truly cautious to the extreme. After all, apart from his own direct subordinates, there wasn't a single lord in the army he could trust.
People who were always plotting to harm others inevitably suffered from paranoia about being harmed themselves.
The siblings continued upward. Jon was surprised to find Arya's stamina remarkably good. After climbing hundreds of steps, she wasn't winded at all, except for slightly heavier breathing.
Soon, they entered the Hall of the Hundred Hearths. Several guards also stood watch at the heavy oak doors of the hall.
Closing such heavy oak doors would require the combined effort of at least seven or eight soldiers.
Passing through the doors into the Hall of the Hundred Hearths, they found about twenty more soldiers inside!
With Jon's current martial skills, he could handle at most ten people at once. Moreover, the soldiers outside could provide support at any time. Launching a sudden attack now was simply unrealistic.
Suddenly, he saw Bolin standing beside Roose Bolton. He noticed the guy looking at him with a somewhat contemptuous gaze, wondering what scheme he was hatching.
At this moment, Roose Bolton was seated on Black Harren's throne, waiting to receive them. As an Earl, his status was above both Jon and Arya.
The moment he saw Jon and Arya, he knew for certain this was Arya. They looked too much alike.
"Wonderful, Lady Arya. Thank the gods you are safe and sound."
Arya greeted Roose Bolton with noble etiquette, and Roose Bolton returned a rare smile.
Then he turned to Jon and said, "Jon, King Robb coincidentally wants you to take some men to support Ser Edmure. You can take Arya with you to Riverrun."
"Support Edmure?" Jon instantly understood why Bolin had looked at him like that just now.
He saw Bolin approach him with the letter, like a dog showing off a piece of red meat in its mouth.
Jon took the letter, his expression unchanged. Instead, he smiled and said to Arya beside him:
"Arya, once I settle the troops, we can go to Riverrun together. Then you can see Lady Catelyn."
"Really!" Arya's eyes lit up. Compared to avenging Eddard, she naturally missed her mother too.
Roose Bolton was somewhat surprised by Jon's reaction but assumed he had accepted his fate. In fact, he found it strange too: Jon didn't approve of Robb becoming King, yet he still obeyed Robb's orders, and in the end, didn't even gain Robb's trust.
Getting nothing good from start to finish—Bolton didn't know what Jon was after.
"Jon, when you leave, I will send Bolin to escort you. Leave things here to me."
"Then I'll trouble Lord Bolton." Jon maintained his smile.
Leaving the Kingpyre Tower, Jon continued chatting and laughing with Arya, not letting anyone see anything unusual about him.
In the original timeline, Robb only made Jon his heir when he was desperate and felt the situation was hopeless, leaving Jon the title of King in the North—or rather, a mess.
But now the situation was completely different. Not only was the Iron Islands considering an alliance with the North, but Jon's achievements on the eastern front had also shifted the situation significantly in the North's favor.
Power blinds the eye. Jon muttered to himself. However, this also opened up a line of thought for Jon. If he did something unconventional next, Roose Bolton probably wouldn't be too vigilant.
So he took Arya to visit the other lords. Harrion, Medger Cerwyn, and others welcomed Arya warmly.
Jon actually used Arya as cover to sound out these people's opinions.
If they were willing to attack King's Landing with him, he wouldn't need to risk a mutiny; he could just take their men and go. But the results weren't satisfactory.
Currently, in the Eastern Army, House Karstark had about two thousand troops.
Plus the militia that joined not long ago, this number was slightly higher.
When Jon came to Harrion, he didn't state his intentions directly but started with a bout of heavy drinking.
Finally, when Harrion was somewhat tipsy, Jon got the answer he wanted.
"Stark, Karstark—we are one family. Lord Eddard was my kin too. Since my kin was murdered, of course I want revenge! Jon, I'm still waiting for you to lead me into King's Landing!"
Confirming that the Karstarks would fight to the end, Jon felt a bit more confident. If worst came to worst, his five thousand men plus Harrion's two thousand-plus could still make a fight of it.
But this number was still not safe enough.
Then he went to Medger Cerwyn.
But this guy's attitude was somewhat ambiguous.
"Attacking King's Landing would be great, of course. Then we could loot King's Landing just like Tywin did back then.
"But King's Landing isn't close to us. There are so many Crownlands castles in between; the price we'd have to pay would likely be high. Actually, I think just killing Tywin counts as avenging Lord Eddard. Of course, if King Robb orders us to attack King's Landing, I have no objections! I will obey!
"But Jon, since Robb is sending you to Riverrun, he probably wants to kill that old bastard Tywin first."
Medger Cerwyn's attitude told Jon that this old fox was only willing to fight winning battles; he couldn't be counted on for tough, uphill fights.
Subsequently, Jon asked House Blackwood and House Manderly. Their answers also contained hints of war weariness, which puzzled Jon. The war had gone smoothly so far; why was everyone getting homesick?
After some inquiry, it turned out that with autumn just arriving and winter not yet here, they all wanted to stockpile more food.
It had to be said, the Northerners had a strong sense of crisis management. However, they all stated that if Robb required it, they would fight on and fulfill their obligations as vassals.
There was a prerequisite here—Robb's requirement.
Jon naturally didn't have this qualification.
Although he had accumulated much prestige on the battlefield, it wasn't enough to command the lords to march onto unfamiliar lands and start a new campaign.
Forget these lords; even the army in his own hands was a group of "patchwork soldiers."
Although five thousand seemed like a large number, once the war ended, these people would go back to their homes.
Unless Jon could earn a territory for himself, then it might be possible to retain some of them.
In a blink of an eye, seven or eight days passed.
Jon knew he couldn't delay; he had to strike first.
"Jon, seven thousand is seven thousand. Seven thousand is better than sitting here doing nothing!" Beric tried to get Jon to march immediately.
"Seven thousand is still stretching it. As far as I know, Tyrion the Imp has doubled the garrison of King's Landing to about ten thousand men.
"Our enemy isn't just the King's Landing garrison. We already have a consensus on the Tyrells; they will definitely join the war.
"By then, Stannis and I will not only have to take King's Landing but also hold it." Jon voiced his concerns.
The Red Keep, the royal castle, was completely separated from the city walls of King's Landing. And the Red Keep's defenses were no worse than Harrenhal's. Taking it would definitely take some effort. They might have to defend against a siege while attacking the Red Keep.
Seven thousand men... still too few.
"Then what do we do? Roose Bolton hasn't left the Kingpyre Tower much lately. Even when he does come out, a large group of guards follows him," Thoros said worriedly. He knew Jon wanted to seize power, but the prerequisite for seizing power was subduing the current leader. Obviously, Roose Bolton protected himself very well.
"Since he won't come out, we'll go in!" Jon said.
"But you'd need to bring at least twenty men in to have a chance, and they need weapons! Roose Bolton won't let so many of us in," Beric reminded him again.
"Jon, this is mutiny. Are you really not afraid?" Thoros asked worriedly, his face scrunching up.
"It's mutiny only if we fail. If we succeed, we are the heroes who bring a chaotic kingdom back on track!"
Thoros and Beric were both stunned. The sharp, piercing look in the young man's eyes shook them to the core.