Chapter 222

The morning drowsiness was swept away in the She-Wolf's lecture, but the soldiers' spirits did not stay lifted for long. The boys beside him began yawning incessantly before long, some simply flopping onto their horses' backs and running with the herd.

They are at least descendants of outstanding cavalry.

After securing the northern passage guarded by Bolton, the She-Wolf cast aside her main force and led the guard cavalry into the valley heartland ruled by Howard City.

The guard cavalry regiment had just over a hundred adult warriors, with several dozen youths scattered across the ages...

Ruika sometimes felt the She-Wolf could command at most a hundred men, roughly equivalent to the leader of an ordinary knightly family, perhaps even less, for a wise commander would not abandon the main force to lead a lone army into enemy-ridden land.

That is the modus operandi of city-state raiders.

If Bolton had already set up a defensive camp at the southern passage, then most of the other barriers in Howard's territory would likely have fallen, or perhaps Howard City had already been lost, and Lucius Bolton was gathering his forces to swallow the She-Wolf whole.

Howard's territory is also a pocket.

Endless hills, marshes, and mountains divide Howard's domain from that of neighboring lords. It is said there are three points connecting to the White Harbor lands, but only the one they captured last night does not require crossing the mountains. In the broad lands adjacent to the Dreadfort, the west is rugged mountains and deep valleys, while the east bears the year‑round snow‑capped Goathead Mountains and the endless river‑network marshes of the upper Shatterflow River.

No one knows exactly which stream or mountain the Shatterflow River springs from; its fine tributaries burst from the endless mountains, pouring into the northern realm's interior, together with silt, demon flowers, and reeds floating on black mud forming an impassable marsh dead‑way. It is said the Blackwater Marsh stretches a hundred miles, and the countless stream‑mires hidden in the northern lands converge somewhere in the Shatterflow's upper reaches, gradually gathering to form the great river called the Shatterflow, carrying the northern interior's accumulated waters eastward to the sea.

This knowledge should be credited to the library of Winterfell.

Ruika knows little of the lands east of the river; what he knows well is only the Stark domain. He can confidently say he knows every manor, horse farm, every mining area, settlement, and forest in Stark lands, even the rarely visited Wolf Wood, which he has entered and exited many times. Yet the knowledge the She‑Wolf or others need is not of the Stark lands—each of them knows that inside out, needing no instruction from him. But the east is different; at most a handful of boys in Winterfell who read books exist, the bulky volumes describing Howard's territory lie dust‑covered and mildewed, perhaps the last person who picked one up has already molded.

Ha, surely we can't have Lawrence Snow explain these basics?

He did not know whether, when heading south, Lawrence Snow had already prepared or his adoptive earl father had pre‑fed him, but in any case his present ability to independently lead a cavalry squad owes much to that fine performance. Unfortunately, regarding the succession to Howard's Keep, the She‑Wolf clearly favors Brandon Tao of Torrhen's City; she is not yet ready to overturn the accepted rules of inheritance, and besides, she is not the Queen of the North.

The Tao family had already prepared to take over Howard's Keep. Even if Benford Tao might have to face attacks from the Barrowtuns and the Phints, he still diverted nearly five hundred fully armed infantry for his uncle and cousins, adding them to the She-Wolf's eastern offensive.

This Tao army was led by Brandon Tao's father, Landon Tao. Compared to the vigorous, well‑turned Stark infantry and cavalry, this unit disgusted Ruika in every way.

The Stark foot‑soldiers and horsemen could keep pace with the She-Wolf's rapid march, but on the first day the Tao‑surnamed unit fell completely behind, let alone trying to match the cavalry's stride. This really fails to inspire affection.

Their guard cavalry sped across the valley's plains; when two mountains loomed close, they leapt onto the road and surged forward, sweeping ahead.

Along the way, farms and watermills built beside the water rose blue smoke; the waterwheel's rim tilted and sank into the water, the exposed part alone letting one guess the mill's size.

Outside the fence they saw slain soldiers and peasants, one of whose heads was submerged in the creek, swollen and deathly pale like a great winter melon.

No one wanted to bury these corpses; the She‑Wolf didn't even glance at them before speeding past.

Their marching speed was extreme; by the time the morning mist burned off under the sun, they had already passed the first mountain they saw after entering the valley. A stream ran from the mountain's foot downstream. A tower was built on the mountainside at a gentle mid‑slope, a winding path to the tower crossing the stream, and on its flank a stone‑stacked defensive berm was set, making it look formidable.

On the tower flew high the elk banner of Howard.

This is at least a small castle that is not easy to take.

At that moment a horseman emerged from a corner of the open gate to greet them; the She-Wolf paused briefly to speak with him, then rode on.

The Bolton troops besieging the castle had learned of the earlier defeat and lifted the siege early this morning.

Is she in a hurry to pursue?

Under the gaze of the Viscount of Flatpeak City, they crossed the shallow stream and followed the stone path between the peaks, truly entering the vast heart of Howard's valley.

After riding on a while, they encountered Bolton's patrol soldiers; the She-Wolf hesitated not, charged forward, and lopped off several unlucky heads.

"Your Highness, the Bolton and Tyrell forces' camp lies just ahead," Gibcogji said, pointing at the vague wheat field before them.

Taking advantage of the moment while everyone fed their horses, Ruika climbed the high ground beside the stream to scout ahead; he saw only a tall castle set on the riverbank, and no Bolton or Tyrell soldiers or their banners.

He had never in his life seen the so‑called rose banner. But it didn't matter; the flag still flying over Howard's Keep was the gray‑field ice‑plain running wolf banner.

"Your Highness, are we waiting here for reinforcements?"

"Of course, just these few hundred can't defeat their great army." The She-Wolf's voice pierced the ranks of soldiers, "But since we've seen them, we naturally ought to go forward and greet them; I have never yet clashed with the Tyrell army! Aren't you interested? I've heard the Tyrells are extraordinarily luxurious—even their soldiers' buttocks are embroidered with roses—don't you want to look?"

The She-Wolf confidently chuckled with the soldiers, the gloom that had hung over them since leaving Winterfell long gone.

"Your Highness, we only have a hundred‑plus, not several hundred!" Sam Nieer wondered.

"A hundred men? Who said I need a hundred?" the She-Wolf laughed, looking at the young Sam, her left hand already resting on her sword, "To me, thirty cavalry are more than enough!" She picked up the reins, turned the horse's head aside, and shouted to those behind, "Archers, follow me; the remaining cavalry will be led by Harlow."

Ruika felt as if struck hard, greatly resentful, almost raising an objection on the spot.

But he dared not; he felt he could no longer force a smile onto his face.

Harlow Herman was barely fifteen, only a bit older than him, yet in martial courage, wit, sturdy build, agility, even the order of knighthood investiture, he fell short of Ruika……If someone like him could also command over a hundred cavalry and serve as the She-Wolf's deputy, wouldn't that show that in her eyes his status is inferior to that of this reckless horse‑handler?

Damn, has the She-Wolf taken a liking to that Harlow fellow?

"Your Highness, there are only twenty‑four archers with long and short bows and crossbow bolts," Harlow said.

"Twenty‑four is enough…… Ruika, you too, the whole unit—your marksmanship is the worst, so at least come along and learn with us!" the She‑Wolf teased him with a laugh.

How could that be?

He instantly blushed, proud to be singled out yet embarrassed at being found out.

"Even if I'm worse, am I not better than Belen, Arthur, little Nieer, and Clumsy Gus?" Ruika quickly named a few close‑fit lads amid the surrounding laughter, drawing a chorus of boos.

"Really? I think I heard four names; put them together and that makes thirty." the She‑Wolf couldn't wait another moment; after saying that she spurred her horse away, leaving twenty‑nine people standing there staring at each other.