In Westeros, Maesters are trained by the Citadel, and after completing their studies, they serve the lords in their castles.
Qyburn was an anomaly among Maesters; he was expelled from the Citadel for researching 'live dissection,' which was not permitted by the Faith of the Seven. Not only was he unable to serve any lord, but his Maester's chain was also revoked.
As a Maester, Qyburn had no other marketable skills, and coupled with his obsession with human anatomy and structure, he joined a mercenary company.
Here, he could earn a living by his skill in treating external injuries and frequently obtain fresh 'materials.'
At this moment, Qyburn looked at the several banners approaching. The one in the center was the crimson Flayed Man, while the banners on either side were somewhat similar, both with black backgrounds. The difference was that one bore a smiling sun, and the other a white Direwolf.
And on the black banner with the Direwolf, a large, slightly agape head was impaled.
'That must be the Mountain's head,' Qyburn thought, looking at the head, whose color had long faded to gray. He felt a sense of pity, thinking that if the Mountain were still alive, he might have been able to study the secret of his strength.
However, when he saw a clearly young general, his eyes lit up again.
He rode a gray mare, accompanied by a nearly pure white Direwolf.
His black, slightly curly hair was tied back, and he had the characteristic Stark long face with bright gray eyes. A gray cloak over shining silver armor, his build was well-proportioned and agile, giving an impression of quickness.
'Jon Snow,' Qyburn murmured to himself. He had always heard that Jon had personally killed the Mountain, and he knew such rumors must contain some exaggeration. If there was no exaggeration at all, then Jon would be even more valuable for research than the Mountain.
He was especially surprised when he noticed that the Direwolf's shoulder height was almost the same as the horse's leg.
"Qyburn," just as Qyburn was lost in thought, Vargo Hoat, the commander, spoke, signaling him to follow.
Vargo Hoat was not tall but always appeared gloomy, especially with his goatee hanging down to his chest, which, combined with his inverted triangular face, made him look as if a goat had just transformed into human form.
Before deciding to accept the Northern Army's bribe, they had already made up their minds to foster good relations with Roose Bolton.
If there was any other choice, who would want to live a life on the edge of a blade? If they could secure a title and land through this war, that would be ideal.
Although Jon had distinguished himself in battle, as a bastard who opposed his brother's claim to kingship, it meant his influence would not be too high. He might acquire a fief in the future, but it was unlikely he would achieve great accomplishments.
However, they would not cause trouble for Jon; at most, they would keep their distance.
Soon, the officers of the Brave Companions arrived before the Northern lords. Qyburn and Vargo Hoat dismounted and bowed to Roose Bolton in the center.
"Lord Bolton, Harrenhal is now King Robb's," Vargo Hoat said with a smile, addressing Roose Bolton, while Qyburn took the opportunity to observe Jon, only to find that Jon was also looking at him.
'Why is he looking at me like that? Does he know me?' Qyburn felt as if his chest had been squeezed. Jon's gaze held a hint of curiosity, the same look he gave his dissection subjects.
This made Qyburn feel a little unnerved.
"It is gratifying that Ser Vargo Hoat has become a friend of the North and stood on the side of justice in time. We are now allies, so there is no need for such formality," Roose Bolton said with satisfaction, then looked at Polliver beside him.
Polliver led a large contingent of Dreadfort soldiers to enter Harrenhal first and relieve the Brave Companions' soldiers.
After a few pleasantries, Vargo Hoat led everyone into the largest castle in Westeros.
"Damn this place, why didn't the Dragon King burn it down more completely back then?" Harrion grumbled as soon as they entered the castle.
The vast castle was sparsely populated, and its five gloomy, gray towers stood like five giant tombstones.
A thin mist hung in the air, and not a wisp of smoke, which would signify human presence, was visible.
Generally, upon entering a man-made structure, one experiences a false sense of warmth due to increased security.
But the lords entering Harrenhal only felt a chill.
At this point, Qyburn, as a Maester, began to explain to everyone: "Harrenhal is indeed not a good place. Not to mention Harren the Blackheart, it has been granted by the Dragon Kings to three families, all of whom died out without heirs. Moreover, the Tower of Dread also carries Prince Daemon's curse."
"A curse?" Harrion's eyes widened, as if he had been startled.
"Lord, I know about this," Old Yorek said. Thanks to Jon, Old Yorek, though only a knight, was gradually able to speak before the lords. As a dragon enthusiast, he was very familiar with Targaryen history. "That year, Prince Daemon, riding the dragon Caraxes, and Aemond, riding the dragon Vhagar, perished together above the Gods Eye.
Before that great battle, Prince Daemon lived in the Tower of Dread, and there are carvings he left there. It is said that every rainy season, blood flows from those carvings."
"Oh, so that's it. I must see that," Harrion said enthusiastically.
All of this was observed by Qyburn. It was quite unusual for a knight accompanying Jon to be able to speak with a great noble like Harrion. This indicated that Jon's prestige in the Northern Army was considerable.
He instinctively looked at Jon, only to find that Jon was still looking at him!
'Why is he constantly looking at me?' Qyburn was puzzled, quickly turned his head away, then thought it was not good, and gave Jon a not-so-pleasant smile.
The small interlude quickly passed, and everyone was led to the Tower of the Wailing. The Tower of the Wailing is the tallest of Harrenhal's five towers, overlooking the entire castle.
No one knows the original name of the Tower of the Wailing; perhaps the castle's first owner, Harren the Blackheart, hadn't had time to name it.
But because he was burned to death in this tower by Aegon the Conqueror, riding Balerion, the Tower of the Wailing became the tower's name.
Everyone followed Vargo Hoat into the Tower of the Wailing. The spiral staircase here was very wide, allowing seven or eight people to pass abreast.
This did not mean it was easy to attack; on the contrary, there were hidden soldier's holes and concealed arrow slits along the walls.
When Harren the Blackheart built this castle, he truly spared no expense, intending to make Harrenhal a great castle with a long history, like Winterfell, the Eyrie, or Casterly Rock.
Soon, everyone arrived at the Tower of the Wailing's council hall—the Hall of a Hundred Hearths. Castles in Westeros primarily rely on 'fireplaces' for heating.
Most rooms or halls only need three to five, or at most a dozen, fireplaces to warm the entire space. For example, the great hall of Winterfell has fewer than ten fireplaces.
This theater-sized hall would require over a hundred fireplaces to warm it.
However, in reality, there were only thirty or forty, but even that was astonishingly large.
At this moment, the sound of footsteps and conversation echoed in the hall, creating a sense of emptiness and noise.
Taking this opportunity, Qyburn again began to explain to everyone: "During the reign of Jaehaerys I, this Targaryen king once convened a 'Great Council' to determine a new heir. At that time, more than half the nobles of Westeros came to this hall.
Surprisingly, the Hall of a Hundred Hearths still had ample space for all these nobles." As he spoke, Qyburn pointed to the main seat in the center, wider than a bed, and said: "Tywin was quite fond of sitting there, Lord Bolton. That will be your seat from now on."
Listening to Qyburn's flattery, Lord Bolton's lips curved into a smile. At this moment, in addition to a dozen lords, there were nearly a hundred Dreadfort soldiers in the hall.
Roose Bolton could be said to have complete control of this hall; he was the most qualified person to sit there.
Just as he was about to step forward, someone in the crowd let out a scornful chuckle.
Roose Bolton ignored it, and the lords each found a place to sit.
Jon sat in the middle of the first row, with Old Yorek and Martin on his left and right.
Harrion and Saiwen also sat down with their men around Jon.
Qyburn gave Vargo Hoat a look, signaling whether they should re-evaluate the value of Jon and Roose Bolton.
Vargo Hoat's fawning smile had not yet faded, but there were already some thoughts in his eyes.
Once everyone was seated, Roose Bolton slightly lifted his backside, adjusting to a posture more befitting the throne beneath him.
But what truly gave him a sense of security were the dozens of fully armed Dreadfort guards stationed throughout the Hall of a Hundred Hearths.
He had thought Catelyn could take command of the army from Jon, but he hadn't expected her to fail. In other words, his blatant 'provocation' that day had further worsened his relationship with Jon.
From now on, whenever Jon was present, he would have to protect himself no matter what.
Roose Bolton cleared his throat, but the Northern lords below were still chatting amongst themselves.
Vargo Hoat watched coldly, the scales in his heart seemingly tipping.
At this moment, Jon suddenly stood up and said, "Quiet, everyone. Lord Roose Bolton has something to say."
As soon as Jon finished speaking, the entire hall immediately fell silent, with only scattered sounds of chairs being moved and faint coughs.
And the way everyone looked at Roose Bolton was no longer respectful; instead, it was as if they were watching a performance.
Roose Bolton took a slight breath, then took a letter from an attendant and said, "My lords, I have received news from Riverrun. King Robb has made contact with the Iron Islands, and Balon will also join our alliance.
Soon, His Majesty will lead his army into the Westerlands. It won't be long before we can avenge Lord Eddard, and no one will ever dare to challenge the dignity of the North again!"
"Good!"
"Excellent!"
"Long live King Robb! Long live the North!"
The Northern lords below cheered upon hearing this news, as if victory was already within reach.
They had been campaigning for over half a year and finally saw the dawn of victory.
And as Roose Bolton announced this news, Roose Bolton's retainers and personal guards looked at Jon with a triumphant gaze.
It was as if they were saying, 'See? King Robb still trusts our lord the most.'
And this was also the effect Roose Bolton wanted to achieve—to display his power and status through Robb.
Vargo Hoat also noticed this and stopped his wavering.
Jon, on the other hand, knew that if there were no external interference, Robb would soon be sleeping with the nurse. He needed to speed up his actions to avoid prolonged complications.
Following this, Roose Bolton spoke again: "My lords, Renly is now dead, and Stannis will likely need some effort to take Storms End. For the next two or three months, or even longer, we should not have any major battles.
But during this time, I ask you all to rest your armies and be ready at all times to answer King Robb's call. I will assign Harrenhal's towers for you to guard."
Hearing him say this, the faces of the Northern nobles all showed expressions of relief.
The long campaign had long since exhausted their initial ambitions; the nobles had long wanted to return to their comfortable lives.
But what they didn't know was that Stannis had already taken Storms End.
The Battle of the Blackwater would begin in at most a month, and with Stannis also having a fleet, he would soon be able to transport his army to King's Landing after consolidating his forces at Storms End.
But Jon had no fleet, and Harrenhal was no closer to King's Landing than Storms End.
Moreover, the Northern Army was entirely infantry. In short, Jon needed to persuade or find some other way to get the Northern Army to march south within twenty days to make it to the Battle of the Blackwater.
But he looked at the lords' conveyed intentions, and it seemed they all wanted a good rest, with few willing to fight.
What they didn't know was that once Stannis's attack on King's Landing failed, the Lannisters would merge with the forces of Highgarden.
At that point, the already exhausted North and Riverlands would be dragged into an even longer war, and that didn't even account for Bolton, the traitor.
"Ser Harrion Karstark."
Hearing his name called, Harrion snorted lightly and stood up nonchalantly.
"You will garrison the Tower of the Wailing."
"Hmm."
Harrion responded and sat back down.
Next was Meiqi Saiwen; he and the Frey Family were assigned to the Tower of Dread.
Manderly Family was assigned to the Widow's Tower.
Finally, it was Jon's turn. Hearing his name, Jon stood up.
"Jon Snow, your army is the largest, so you will guard the Tower of Dread alone."
Jon quickly recalled the distribution of Harrenhal's five tall towers in his mind.
The main body of Harrenhal consisted of five nearly hundred-foot-tall towers: the Widow's Tower, the Tower of the Wailing, the Tower of Dread, the Tower of Dread, and the central Tower of the Wailing, located to the southeast, northwest, and center respectively.
He was assigned to the Tower of Dread, so Roose Bolton would certainly choose the remaining Tower of the Wailing.
The Tower of the Wailing was in the very center, making it convenient for him to monitor the armies of the other nobles. If he wanted to seize command of the army from Roose Bolton, he would have to put some thought into it.
"As you command, Lord Bolton," Jon stood up and accepted his arrangement.
Seeing that no one opposed his arrangements, Roose Bolton unconsciously leaned back, a faint, almost imperceptible smile on his pale face. He tasted the flavor of power once more.
'What does it mean to be the Commander of the Eastern Army?!'
This time, Roose Bolton glanced at Vargo Hoat and the others from the Brave Companions; their eyes were noticeably clearer.
It seemed they now understood who was truly the 'man in charge' of the Northern Army. Roose Bolton felt it necessary to 'build relations' with this mercenary company.
Jon's current strength was simply too formidable, so strong that it left him feeling utterly insecure.
And this mercenary company had two thousand men! It was a force not to be underestimated, and he could also win them over with some promises.
As Roose Bolton pondered, a Dreadfort soldier suddenly rushed to his side and whispered in his ear.
After hearing the soldier's intelligence, Roose Bolton said:
"What? The Brotherhood Without Banners?"