In the guest chambers of High Hermitage, Arthur pondered tactics for fighting the Vulture King while questioning the Captain of the Guard.
"Captain, when you go out on patrol, do you ever watch the sky?"
"The sky?" The Captain looked bewildered. "Not much. When riding, one generally needs to focus on the road, not look around idly."
Arthur clarified, "I mean, I heard the Vulture King keeps a vulture. Perhaps every time you left the castle before, he was using that vulture to observe your position."
The Captain's eyes widened. "Now that you mention it, My Lord, it is entirely possible. Several riders have told me that when they were out, a massive vulture would circle above them. sometimes it would even dive down to attack."
The Captain frowned as he continued. "But there are plenty of birds around High Hermitage—vultures, hawks, and the like. Looking up, they all look like black specks of similar size."
"We have no good way to deal with them. Especially that vulture—it's incredibly fast. Cavalry archers can't hit it. And they say it's clever, too. If the men are prepared, it never comes down. It only swoops when they are lax or isolated."
Hearing the Captain's description, Arthur confirmed his suspicion: the Vulture King was a skinchanger. The giant vulture was under his control, and through its eyes, the Vulture King could observe High Hermitage's movements.
It was hard to imagine fighting a war in a medieval setting where the enemy had aerial reconnaissance. The passivity forced upon them would be immense.
Fortunately, the Torrentine River stood between them. Without naval superiority, the wildlings dared not cross in force to raid or harass; they had to gnaw at the bridgehead first.
Understanding the situation with the Vulture King, Arthur coordinated with the Captain regarding High Hermitage's forces. "How many men do you command? What is the breakdown of troop types?"
Captain: "Most of the archers have been sent to Vulture's Roost. Currently, in the castle, we have eight hundred levies, two hundred armored guards, and fifty cavalry."
Arthur nodded. "The cavalry will be under my command. Leave enough soldiers to garrison the castle, and incorporate the rest into the Left Wing under Ser Clegg's command."
"As you command, My Lord." The Captain nodded. With Viscount Dimitri's authorization, he naturally obeyed Arthur's arrangements.
Arthur added, "Also, if you receive word of wildling raids, notify me immediately. I will lead a troop to investigate."
The Captain was startled. "My Lord? That is extremely dangerous. You know that vulture is not to be trifled with."
Arthur glanced at the [Qilin Bow] hanging in his room and waved his hand. "I know my limits."
[Qilin Bow]: When focus is highly concentrated, provides an aim-assist effect against high-speed moving targets like horses or beasts.
You have aerial reconnaissance; I have aimbot. Let's not call each other cheaters.
After the Captain left, Arthur checked his "Three Kingdoms" system panel and looked through his strategy cards. He realized he might have another trick up his sleeve.
[Burning Bridges (Dismantle)]: Look directly into the opponent's eyes to strip a designated magical unit of its next cast spell.
Arthur rubbed the stubble on his chin, pondering. Does a skinchanger controlling an animal count as magic? I wonder if [Burning Bridges] can sever the link between them. I might get a chance to test it.
"My Lord." Wick, who had just finished making Arthur's bed, was studying a book of Dornish heraldry.
He opened the book to a page and held it out to Arthur, asking in confusion, "Do you think this Vulture King has any connection to House Blackmont?"
Arthur looked at the sigil of House Blackmont in the book: a black vulture carrying a pink infant in its claws on a yellow field.
And Blackmont, the seat of House Blackmont, was located upstream on the Torrentine.
Arthur frowned, recalling something. "I read in a book somewhere... several Vulture Kings of the past in the Red Mountains seemed to have connections to House Blackmont."
Arthur also remembered reading a book about skinchangers in the library at Winterfell.
The last King of House Blackmont, Benedict Blackmont, worshipped a dark god and could transform into a massive vulture.
Vic scratched his head. "Does that mean we have to be careful of House Blackmont as well?"
Arthur exhaled deeply. "Lady Alerie should have arrived at Blackmont by now to seek aid. It seems we not only have to use Vulture's Roost as bait for the Vulture King, but also wait for news from Lady Alerie."
A shadow crossed Arthur's eyes. If House Blackmont was behind the Vulture King and the mountain clans, or if the Vulture King was actually a member of their house, the situation was dire.
Blackmont was located in the Dornish Marches, bordering Horn Hill in the Reach. They had centuries of border friction and skirmishes with the Reach, making them experienced in war and martially potent.
Thinking of this, Arthur decided to take a precaution.
"Get me paper and a quill. I will report this to Starfall first. Aunt Allyria needs to inform Prince Doran of this possibility."
---
Blackmont
Lady Alerie and her five protective knights finally arrived at Blackmont after five days of travel.
A stone road connected Starfall to Blackmont, which allowed them to make the journey in five days.
On the way, they were attacked by wildlings and lost one knight.
"My Lady, let us enter." Ser Clark, a gaunt man, looked weary after negotiating with the gate guards. "They have informed Lady Larra Blackmont. Lady Larra asks us to meet her in the main keep."
Alerie adjusted her travel-stained clothes and messy hair, nodding. "Let's go."
Ser Clark was her sworn shield. Alerie still remembered the scene when the knight swore his fealty to her.
Back then, Ser Clark was young. In the courtyard of Broken Arm Castle, before everyone, he laid his sword at her feet and spoke solemnly:
"My Lady, I am your shield. I will protect you from harm and obey your commands. In times of peril, I will offer my life. By the Old Gods and the New, I solemnly swear."
"I vow that you shall have meat and mead at my table," the young Alerie had raised Ser Clark up. "I pledge to ask no service of you that might bring you dishonor. By the Old Gods and the New, I swear it. Rise, Ser."
All these years, Ser Clark had upheld his vow, serving her as an excellent sworn shield.
When they were attacked by wildlings on the road, it was he who fought bravely to repel them.
"Perhaps I should grant him a fief, to reward his years of loyal service," Alerie thought as she followed the steward leading the way. "After this war ends, I will tell him the news."
Just as Alerie was considering how to phrase her request to Lady Larra Blackmont...
Shing!
She heard the sound of swords being drawn.
"Ser, what are you doing?" Alerie looked at Ser Clark, who stood with his sword bared and alert. "Do not be rude. Sheathe your sword."
Ser Clark stared warily at the Blackmont steward, who had led them away from the main path and was now putting distance between them. "My Lady! I have been to Blackmont before. This is not the way to the main keep."
The four knights behind them drew their swords as well, scanning their surroundings. They realized that many Blackmont guards were closing in, and figures were moving in the towers above.
The steward, having retreated to a safe distance, spoke up. "Lady Alerie, tell your men to drop their swords."
Alerie felt a surge of panic but forced herself to remain calm. "By the Seven, give us bread and salt! Is this how House Blackmont treats guests?"
The steward raised a hand. "I say again, Lady Alerie. Tell your men to drop their swords."
As the steward raised his hand, Alerie saw seven or eight archers on the battlements aim their bows at them.
"My Lady, when the fighting starts, just run for the horses," Ser Clark whispered in her ear. "I swore to protect you from harm!"
Alerie took a deep breath, suppressing her fear and clutching her cumbersome skirts. "I am an envoy sent by Starfall. You wish to arrest us?"
The steward did not answer. He waved his hand lazily. "Kill the guards. Try not to harm Lady Alerie."
Thwip! Thwip! Thwip!
Bowstrings sang from the battlements above!