Chapter 218

Unlike the high-spirited indignation of their previous deployment, this time as they left Winterfell they carried endless oppression and gloom.

He once doubted whether the She-wolf was truly a qualified officer—she no longer rallied morale or reassured the many doubtful soldiers; as the army's commander, she actually let the oppressive atmosphere circulate in the ranks.

Rikah very much wanted to speak up for her loudly, to boost the army's spirits.

But he dared not.

Overawed by such silence, the whole army had remained quiet all along; they marched in silence, and the occasional bugle call felt fresh to him.

The army set out from Winterfell, heading south along the King's Road, and only when they reached White Wolf Ford did the She-wolf think to quicken her pace, leading her cavalry detachment away from the main force.

Her attendants were changed again, and they kept getting smaller; the male attendant was called Huode, a mountain clansman, while the female attendant was called Sasha—a lovely name, pretty face, and wondrous mount, a pity she was a woman from Cannibal Island, well, still just a little girl.

He had always thought George Kaison would at least remain as a petty attendant beside the She-wolf for a few years.

George, together with the other two hundred cavalrymen from Winterfell, was ennobled as a knight and viscount in the battle of the Riverlands—a genuine, land-holding viscount; damn it, even if they died in later wars, their heirs and even relatives would still enjoy this privilege, hereditary and endless, making everyone in Winterfell envy them to the utmost, and causing all the cavalry who returned home early to regret it bitterly.

Unlike an ordinary viscount, this title existed only in the She-wolf's documents.

But according to Halwin's introduction, even if it existed only in the She-wolf's papers, once the war was won all these things would be fulfilled one by one—there's really nothing to doubt. The She-wolf will one day fully subdue the Barrowlands and the Riverlands, expelling the rebelling earls and viscounts from those places, parceling out meadows, pastures, and farmlands to the warriors who followed her on campaign, allocating the confiscated earldoms, viscountcies, and knightly holdings to the brave officers and soldiers who fought, and awarding castles, servants, and tax revenues to the most outstanding among them.

He felt it was terribly unfair.

He and the other Winterfell knights marched south together, smashing the Bolton and Lady Dustin alliance, taking Cailin Bay and then storming Twinriver… He admitted he hadn't contributed much at this stage, but later things would be different.

Like most of the southbound cavalry, he charged forward, breaking the Lannister alliance's main camp, taking captive the Westerlands' warden and many officers, and then went on to slay the kingslayer—the current regent of the Iron Throne—who abandoned his armor and fled barely with his life, while he captured many Westerlands lords and heirs…

With such enormous merit, could he be merely made a knight? He admitted he had received a fair amount of gold and other goods that time, but money and goods are nothing compared to land and titles—and besides, George is several years younger than him!

Seeing the young cavalrymen beside him speed up, he had no choice but to spur his horse to catch up.

He was a direct-line cavalryman of Winterfell, early assigned to the She-wolf's guard cavalry; the older riders had already been sent out to lead independent cavalry units, and if the war lasted long enough he believed he would follow that path—being tossed from the guard to command his own small troop.

Lawrence Snow, Little Gastbandji, Kougjiner, Second Thomleckley, Thismicken, and Banyangmicken now led independent detachments; aside from Lawrence Snow, the others were all considered close attendants of Winterfell.

Thinking that Bandji could also lead his own cavalry unit made him feel awful. Even during the cavalry officers' drill formations, he had been singled out by Aerion Pred as the worst soldier: slow to react, ugly in posture, and even his shout came out stammering.

But they were each a little older than him.

The young cavalrymen's shouts broke his reverie; he took up the reins and squeezed his legs.

At last he could canter.

He flicked his whip in disdain, producing a hollow crack, and Oriole instantly accelerated as he wished, overtaking the child cavalrymen and the little fellows from Necklace.

Those children had never been on a battlefield before; now following the She-wolf, they were obviously overexcited.

Wait and see—I hope you're so tired you don't fall off your horses!

Oriole had tremendous stamina; after a slight detour it easily outpaced the main cavalry. He pulled the rein sideways, letting Oriole merge onto the main road, and without noticing he slipped in behind the She-wolf's company.

He wasn't an attendant, so without urgent business he had no right to flank the column, but there was no rule about the rear when approaching.

"George, if we get into a fight later, stay behind me!" he said to Viscount George beside him with a grin.

This brat actually claimed he had charged into the enemy ranks on his warhorse during the Battle of the Applewood!

"Shhh…" George made a silencing gesture, lowering his voice, "No noise while crossing the river."

"What rules are those?" he thought, but then he saw the She-wolf turn her head and give him a cold smirk.

He hastily shut his mouth, bowed his head, and tightened the reins.

George shot him a triumphant "see, I told you" smile; he could almost hear the laughter.

Bugles sounded, banners fluttered.

At White Wolf Ford a pontoon bridge had been built from boats; the front of each boat was tied with ropes as thick as a fist, the other ends fastened to shore anchors, the boats were linked together with hooks, and planks were laid atop, wide enough for two riders to pass side by side.

Downstream, the warships awaiting passage and patrol were moored at a temporary harbor, waiting for them to cross before proceeding through the channel reserved in the middle of the bridge.

Fortunately it was deep winter now, the river not very wide, so building the pontoon was relatively simple; in flood season, constructing a bridge on the rushing waters would be immensely difficult.

This pontoon bridge was specially constructed by the Mandel family for the She-wolf's army to cross; further downstream at the Knights' Ford they had built a stone bridge linking the banks, which looked immensely imposing, and he had crossed it only once.

A mermaid flag flew above the east bank encampment at the ford; after the She-wolf and her guard cavalry passed, the horsemen holding the mermaid flag pointed out where to station.

"Sir Maron, how's the situation ahead?" she asked, getting straight to the point once she saw the waiting White Harbour cavalry.

"Harrenhal has been surrounded by Tyrell forces," Sir Maron hesitated.

"At least their banners show roses," another officer, looking even more grim, added, "though they look like assholes, reeking of a stench that's been foul since a thousand years ago."

Rikah almost laughed. The White Harbour Mandel family surely never dreamed they'd see a southern noble's banner in the North.

"Your Highness, this is the White Harbour master-at-arms, Desmond Mandel," Sir Maron introduced, "the Bolton troops have seized all outposts around Harrenhal, cutting off White Harbour's northward relief route, and many of the Harren holdings have either fled or surrendered."

Rikah knew that many families' masters-at-arms had the chance to command troops independently, and the Desmond before him was clearly one such case.

"Is Lady Donnala still in the castle?"

"Quite right, the lady and her brother Garsmandel are inside the castle. Given the current defenses, Harrenhal won't fall that quickly, but Lothor Bolton is full of tricks—who knows?"

"Where are the Freys?" the She-wolf asked, not pursuing further, then after a pause she turned the question to the Freys.

Thinking that the Freys still had so many members not yet utterly wiped out, Rikah felt strange; he had imagined that after taking Twinriver, the Freys worldwide would be reduced to just the great Wade at Winterfell.

"We haven't spotted any Frey banners in our southbound army; they may still be holed up in the Dreadfort or nearby."

"The news from Twinriver scared them stiff so they dare not leave!" Desmond Mandel, clad in heavy armor, looked north with disdain, saying in a heavy tone, "My scout cavalry rode north several hundred li and didn't see a single Frey banner; I'd say they're mostly holed up in the Dreadfort—these cowards, if they rashly sallied out and lost again, the Frey house would be utterly finished…"

"But it's not over yet!" the She-wolf cut him off.

"This?"

"Find them!" the She-wolf ordered the Mandel officer, "The Lion has already taken Hearth and Cahot, and now the Tyrells are besieging Harrenhal—do you expect me to believe they're sleeping in the Dreadfort? Their home is now occupied by the Tully tyrant; could you sleep if you were them?"

Rikah sensed the She-wolf's tone hardening, giving the Mandel officer no quarter.

Even through his helmet, Rikah could see Desmond Mandel's face flushed, mostly from anger.

"As you wish!" Desmond Mandel lowered his helmet, bowed his head, slowly turned his horse and rode off, with a following detachment of cavalry thundering away across the frozen ground.

"Is Miss Sansa taken by these Freys?"

"I don't know." The She-wolf's voice grew icier, "After we took Twinriver, our troops have been slaughtering the Freys' children and women one after another," she glared fiercely at Maron and the White Harbour officer beside him, "If I knew they had secretly seized some castle or taken over some place and we failed to notice in time, don't blame me for using the head of a negligent man as a sacrificial offering."

"Your Highness, my head is better left on my own neck. Rest assured, we will certainly not let them get close or succeed," another White Harbour officer declared loudly.

Ruika remembered, he was the officer who followed Langnv and rushed together to the Streamland.

"Lord Wolike, you'd better be careful. In Winterapproach City there are no longer any Shitake people," Langnv said coldly to him, "but there are quite a few Bennades in the Red Oak Hall!"

Wolike Bennade was speechless.

Yes, given Folei's hatred for the North, if Folei had breached his family's stronghold, how many of his family could still survive?