The woman was from Littlesister in the Three Sisters. Rumor had it she was a fisherman's daughter, yet she was deeply trusted by the childless old Earl of Littlesister, who had arranged for her to manage his castle and lands.
"You mean to deploy now?" Zaren frowned. "A surprise attack on Pebble?"
"The Ironborn set sail at midnight, appear in the morning mist, and leave by boat after raiding when the fog clears." The old man lectured.
"Boy, although we abandoned the Old Way long ago, a surprise attack is a good move at any time."
"A surprise attack is a good move, but without sufficiently trained warriors, even the best move is just for show." Zaren pondered for a moment before replying in a low voice.
"During the training of the recruits, if the news is destined to leak, write letters to the Lords of Pebble and the Paps according to tradition, challenging them to battle."
"Compared to me, you should be anointed a knight." The old man laughed heartily.
"When they see our numbers exceed theirs, they will surely gather their smallfolk and turtle up in their castles. By then, don't expect my men to dash their brains out against stone walls for you."
Zaren suddenly asked, "I heard you have six sons?"
"Five, and one bastard." The old man looked at Zaren warily. "You wouldn't be thinking of using them to threaten me into obedience, would you, boy?"
Zaren: "How many of them want to become knights?"
"Fine helms, gorgets, breastplates, greaves, sabatons, horses, longswords, shields."
Zaren smiled, bending the webbed fingers of his hand one by one as he listed the items. Finally, he shook his clenched fist and raised an eyebrow. "No matter which item, it requires a considerable amount of Gold Dragons, right?"
As Zaren's fingers closed, the old man's wrinkled face grew increasingly solemn, and his hand stopped wiping the longsword.
"If you don't listen to me, you can take your men back to Longsister now," Zaren said coldly.
"But don't expect another copper from the trade profits. I imagine the coin earned from selling fish and crabs on Longsister is enough for them to become knights at your age!"
The old man's face turned red. He threw down the oilcloth, sprang from his chair, and roared, brandishing the longsword in one hand, "I will never let you do that!"
The sword was razor-sharp, glinting coldly in the candlelight. A peach mark was stamped on the hilt.
The old man shoved aside the captain of the guard who tried to block him. The tent erupted into chaos—the woman screamed, the old man's two sons shouted as they followed him, chairs were overturned, cups knocked over.
Just as there was no one left between the old man and Zaren, a rustic-looking blade rested steadily against the old man's neck.
'Shorty' Weiss, who hadn't spoken since entering the tent, had somehow leaped onto the meeting table. He wore armor woven from dark brown vines and an open-faced helmet.
"Don't move. Drop the Peach-mark sword," Weiss said in broken Common Tongue. "In Braavos, you are not worthy to wield it."
Five swordsmen dressed identically to Weiss rushed into the tent, though the rapiers in their hands were far more ornate.
Their cold gazes and the glint of their blades calmed everyone in the tent instantly.
After disarming the old man and his two sons, Weiss jumped down from the table and waved his hand, dismissing the five Black Mamba swordsmen.
After the swordsmen left, the broken-nosed woman's face paled slightly. She glanced warily at Weiss, who had returned to his harmless appearance.
Then she turned to the grim-faced Zaren and said with a trembling voice:
"I think... old Ser Lyles was just joking with us? But I must say... the joke went a bit too far."
"Indeed, a bit too far." Old Ser Lyles scratched his head. His wrinkled face was filled with embarrassment alongside fear. "Are they Braavosi swordsmen? Their reputation is well-deserved."
The old knight hadn't really intended to cut Zaren down; he just wanted to show off. He hadn't expected to be humiliated instead.
Zaren stared at him coldly. "Good Ser, you don't want your sons to miss out on becoming knights, do you?"
"I'll listen to everything you say," the old knight replied immediately. "A knight must be honorable and upright!"
"I hope you are as swift when facing the savages of the Fingers as you were today." Zaren finished speaking and looked away from the old knight, turning to the woman.
The broken-nosed woman grinned. "Perhaps I should charge first with a sword?"
---
Although old Ser Lyles had embarrassed himself, his experience and insight were indeed sharp.
On the fourth day of gathering and training in the Three Sisters, Zaren received news that the Lords of Pebble and the Paps were gathering their smallfolk for military training, and the pirates plaguing those waters had suddenly vanished.
Following the plan, Zaren sent formal letters by raven to the Lord of Pebble, accusing him of colluding with pirates and challenging him to battle. However, his letters were like stones dropped into the sea—no reply came.
Once the conscripts were trained, Zaren wasted no time. Leaving only a small number of guards to defend the Three Sisters, almost the entire force boarded ships and set sail for Pebble.
"Why don't I see your eldest son?" the broken-nosed woman asked old Lyles, who stood on the deck of the ship flying the Sunderland banner, commanding the sailors.
"I don't see many of your usual good hands either."
Old Ser Lyles was startled at first, then replied with a grim expression:
"I had him stay behind with some men to guard Longsister.
"I advised that boy to leave more men to guard the islands, but he wouldn't listen. He insisted on turning out in full force, and made such a noise about it that everyone knows."
"May the Seven protect us. If only those pirates were as upright as our good Lord." Lyles closed his eyes and began to pray.
"You really are senile. Talking about uprightness with pirates?" The broken-nosed woman looked at Lyles with disdain.
"You should be captured by those pirates and sold as a slave. I imagine your knightly title would fetch a few extra coins from the slavers."
Lyles wasn't angry. Instead, he opened one eye and asked, "So you left forces on Littlesister too?"
"I held nothing back. Didn't you see I even put on chainmail?" The woman gestured to the new armor she wore.
"Let me ask you: if you were a pirate, would you raid a broken island producing only fish and crabs, or Sweetsister, which has grown rich from trade?"
"Are the silver stags, Gold Dragons, cloth, and wine Zaren promised the people not better than the... fish and crabs on our islands?"
Lyles scrutinized the woman, then said, "Wylla, I know now why the Earl of Littlesister relies on you so heavily."
"At first, I thought it was because you helped Eddard Stark reach Sweetsister during the Usurper's War, and he let you manage Littlesister out of gratitude for saving Stark's life."
"Who knew... a fisherman's daughter could have such insight?"
Facing Lyles' praise, Wylla only revealed an ugly smile and sighed. "A bag of silver, and a... bastard."