*
"Prince Rhaegor."
The small boat slowly docked at the edge of the causeway. Brandon Reed, with agility no less than a young man, leaped onto the causeway. He was a small man, even shorter than Jojen Karstark, but Rhaegor sensed a hint of danger from the Lord of Greywater Watch.
This was a dangerous warrior.
"I apologize, but as per Prince Dragonzel's request, I cannot offer you much assistance." Brandon Reed gestured with his eyes for his Scholar to come forward. The gray-robed Scholar nodded, took medicine and needles from the boat, skillfully cut open Legan's clothes with small scissors, and began to treat the boy's wounds.
Rhaegor took a deep breath, trying to suppress the impulse in his heart: "Lord Brandon, what else did my father tell you?" He looked into Brandon's deep green eyes: "I hope you tell me everything you can."
Brandon Reed looked up at Rhaegor and nodded slightly: "Prince Rhaegor, I have no reason to hide anything from you, but Prince Dragonzel did not tell me the specifics. I can only tell you what I know. Prince Dragonzel hopes your journey will make you understand that as the future head of the Varezes family and the Lord of the Borderland Principality, you need to mature more and see the situation in Westeros with your own eyes."
He paused. Few lords paid attention to the North. Dragonzel was one of the few southern lords who would truly provide support to the North. During the long winter that had passed, the Borderland Principality had supplied large amounts of grain to the North by sea, and the Silver Blood Bank had also provided loans to the North.
The North did not have to pay much, only a portion of its minerals, and many precious animals and plants were used as collateral. After spring arrived, when the North's mines regained vitality, a continuous stream of transport ships departed from White Harbor, laden with high-quality iron ore, copper ore, precious gems, unrefined silver ore, and countless furs, valuable timber, and rare animals and plants, sailing towards Lace Town and Silver Crown Port.
The lords considered these to be very generous terms. With the massive grain support from the South, even the Great Wall did not face a food shortage this winter, and the Crannogmen even uncharacteristically did not send their elders to the swamps during winter.
Brandon Reed would always remember these things.
The North remembers.
"Additionally, he has an important mission for you."
Rhaegor had an 'as expected' expression. He knew his father would not do anything superfluous; there must be a reason why he insisted he go to the North.
"Lord Cregan will be waiting for you in the New Gift," Brandon Reed said. "I saw in a dream that you went to a snow-covered forest. The Wolfswood in the North is no longer covered in snow, so that forest must be the one Beyond the Wall." His voice carried a hint of fear: "Ghost Shadow Forest."
Beyond the Wall?
Why would I go there?
Could it be...
"You'll know when you get there," Brandon said. "Prince Dragonzel only told us that the song of ice has not yet begun its chapter, but no one knows when it will raise its baton. The Prince's blood is filled with magical power, the climax of the song of fire, naturally repelled by the song of ice, so he cannot go Beyond the Wall to explore."
"I understand." Rhaegor nodded. It seemed his father was not content with merely telling him what to do; he wanted him to see the North with his own eyes.
"Your Highness, his wound has been treated." The Scholar interrupted Brandon and Rhaegor's conversation. This Scholar was indeed a very skilled doctor. He deftly removed the arrowhead, applied a special ointment to the wound, performed a decent suture, and bandaged the wound with clean gauze. "He'll be fine once the sleeping tree sap wears off."
Rhaegor fumbled around on his person and pulled out a kinmony, placing it in the Scholar's hand: "Scholar, this is my payment."
"Your Highness... this..." The Scholar dared not accept it, but seeing Rhaegor's firm gaze, he took it nonetheless.
Prince Rhaegor was indeed as the rumors said.
The Scholar bowed gratefully and retreated to the small boat. Calculating the time, Greywater Watch would soon change its position again with the shifting marsh, and they could not stay too long.
"That's roughly all Prince told us," Brandon Reed finished relaying the information he knew.
Rhaegor thought for a moment and said, "Thank you for your honesty, Lord Brandon. May I trouble you to write a letter to Dragon Nest City?"
"You may." Brandon glanced at the still unconscious Legan and the wildlings' corpses slowly sinking into the marsh. As a lord, he probably understood what Rhaegor wanted to do: "Your Highness, Prince Dragonzel probably can't interfere in the affairs of the Vale, can he?"
"My father will."
Rhaegor said without hesitation.
"My father will understand my anger," he said calmly.
But Brandon again felt the towering rage in Rhaegor's eyes.
"Alright, I will send out a raven for you."
"Thank you for your trouble, Lord Brandon."
"It is my honor, Your Highness."
Watching the small boat slowly depart, Rhaegor quickly rushed to Legan's side. Only after confirming Legan was alright did he stand up with relief.
Old James's body was still beside him.
"Brother Sage, you must have found this old fellow too." Rhaegor understood everything and naturally guessed that even if Jaime were given ten times the courage, this experienced old knight would not risk such danger to ambush him.
Faceless Man Sage, oh no, Father must have promised Old James something for him to willingly take such a risk.
"What did Father promise him?" Rhaegor pointed to his brow: "Land, wealth, a title? Where did Father promise him a fief?"
"Alas..." Faceless Man Sage sighed, but still nodded with great satisfaction and contentment. "Duskonbury. From today onwards, there will be no more James Hysan, the bastard knight. He will receive a noble surname and a small castle. Lord Luca Strong will become his liege lord."
"Even if Lord Luca doesn't know there's a new landed knight in his domain?"
Though lords never cared about such things; they would be happy to have another landed knight who could provide taxes and swords.
Rhaegor thought to himself.
"Yes," Faceless Man Sage smiled. "Do you want to punish him?"
Rhaegor shook his head: "He has already received enough punishment." He looked at Old James's body on the ground. Legan's sword had left several deep, bone-visible wounds on him. He knew that even if Faceless Man Sage and his father had a way to bring him back to life, it would leave unspeakable pain.
But presumably, Old James wouldn't care.
"I will take him away." Faceless Man Sage smiled. "Lord Jojen will provide us with a boat, Your Highness. The rest of the journey will have no more trials from Prince."
Rhaegor nodded, signaling to Faceless Man Sage that he could leave.
There was no longer any need for them to stay here.
The pale sun slowly sank into the western marsh.
Albin the Just was still unaccustomed to his new surname, but he quickly adapted to his role as a sworn knight of a dragon knight, dutifully standing guard.
This made Ailarion feel a bit awkward, as standing guard was supposed to be his task.
"Your Highness, run! There's a trap ahead!"
This was Legan's first sentence upon waking.
Upon hearing these words, Rhaegor's nose instinctively stung, but he managed to hold back.
The boy thrashed about, pulling at his wound, but there was no particular pain.
The Scholar had added a little sleeping tree sap to the bandages. This dose was not enough to induce sleep, but it could effectively relieve pain. Although not as effective as sweet sleep flower or poppy milk, it had the advantage of not being addictive.
Legan winced in pain, then noticed Rhaegor and Ailarion, who were looking at him with concern. And Albin, who kept secretly peeking at him.
"Your Highness, is it safe?"
Rhaegor still couldn't hold back. He hugged Legan tightly, fighting back the tears welling in his eyes.
By the gods, I almost lost a companion.
Legan, on the other hand, was a bit flustered by the embrace.
"Your Highness, Your Highness, I'm fine, I'm fine, you don't have to be so... so..."
"I don't care!" Rhaegor shouted, forcing his tears back into his eyes, his voice gradually lowering: "It's truly wonderful that you're alright..."
At this moment, in the distant Dragon Nest City.
In the Dragonpit, Star Song roared as it crawled out of its nest. Dragonzel stood calmly at the entrance of the Dragonpit. This time, Dragonzel did not stop it.
"Go, Star Song, Rhaegor needs you."
He stretched.
Star Song looked at Dragonzel, then without hesitation, flapped its wings and leaped out of the Dragonpit entrance.
The next moment, the dragon, as dark as night, roared with a song-like dragon's cry, soaring into the sky and flying North.
"Brother, can we stretch our muscles too?" Valarr was somewhat excited; he happened to see his brother heading to the Dragonpit and followed along.
"No, we need a legitimate reason," Dragonzel said. "You know that child Rhaegor's temper. He suffered a loss at the hands of the wildlings of the Vale clans."
The long-bearded Prince smiled.
"He won't let it go. The dragon will unleash its wrath upon the mountains of the Vale, and those lawless wildlings should also know the anger of the True Dragon."
"Valarr, tell Ray, Daniela, and Rhaenyra, if she wants to experience war." Dragonzel said calmly: "Lord Joffrey has already sought our support in a previous letter. Lord Joffrey of Tide Stone has already flown to the Eyrie on Tyraxes."
Dragonzel looked up.
Vermithor let out a low roar.
"The Vale wildlings should pay the price they deserve."
North.
Legan's physical condition was quite good; his wounds healed quickly under the skilled medical treatment of the well-trained Scholar. The group left the Neck.
They passed through the desolate First Men's barrows. At Barrowton, Lord Dustin warmly hosted them, not because of Rhaegor's identity, but because they were knights and had politely requested lodging and food from the castle lord.
The North respects warriors, especially those who adhere to rules.
At Barrowton, Rhaegor learned that a war was imminent.
After the long winter, the wildlings Beyond the Wall suffered heavy losses, and the winter also exhausted their food reserves. The hungry wildlings, like the Northmen of old, made a decision—to head South.
Countless wildlings began to gather.
Jason Lannister, the Lord Commander of the Great Wall, discovered the wildlings' movements. Although his black-clad army was now well-trained and well-fed, their numbers were still too small, and they lacked enough cavalry.
So Jason sent an envoy to Cregan Stark, requesting his assistance.
They would cooperate to annihilate this wildling army, which numbered in the tens of thousands.
The leader of this wildling army did not claim to be King-Beyond-the-Wall but was very low-key. That Thenn knew very well that after the long winter, not many wildlings Beyond the Wall were still alive.
This army of fifty thousand, consisting of men, women, and children, was a mere trifle compared to the armies of the Kings-Beyond-the-Wall of old.
So he fought very cautiously.
Leaving Barrowton, Rhaegor and his group headed North. Due to Lord Brandon's words, they did not enter Winterfell but went directly North to the New Gift.
The black earth of the North and the pale sun in the sky reflected each other, and between them were countless blinking eyes.
Those were countless upright spears.
Pale sun on a black field, a shattered manacle giant on a red field, steel gauntlets, a standing black bear, a white mermaid, a bloody flayed man, a moose with two giant antlers, two crossed black-handled rusty long axes and a black crown, and a red steed.
Rhaegor saw countless banners of North lords, and of course, they all ultimately clustered around the countless wolf banners in the army formation.
"Are the wildlings going to be let in?" Rhaegor looked at Lord Cregan Stark beside him with some confusion. His disguise had not fooled this sharp man. After they were discovered by the wolf scouts, Cregan personally welcomed them.
The lord nodded: "Lord Commander Jason deliberately concealed the news that they had discovered the tunnel under the Wall. They destroyed that tunnel after the wildling army passed through. Now these wildlings are at the end of their rope."
"But..." Rhaegor looked at the distant horizon.
The wildling army was gradually appearing within sight.
But Cregan had not assembled a large army; he had brought only the elites of various families, totaling no more than five thousand men. And the black-clad brothers from the Great Wall who could be mobilized numbered only two thousand.
"Prince Dragonzel told me you would bring us a surprise." Lord Cregan was mentally prepared.
Rhaegor suddenly felt his blood grow hot.
He looked up in surprise.
The five thousand warriors of the North all looked up simultaneously.
They also heard that pleasant sound.
The sky seemed to darken for a moment.
The wildlings running South also saw this scene.
"Old gods..."
A wildling leader murmured.
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