Chapter 244: Meyi

Snow fell heavier and heavier, the snow on the tent top had pressed the canvas into an unnatural funnel shape, ready to collapse at any moment and bury a roomful of commanders.

"We should advance immediately and retake Holloway Fort. If they succeed in a strong assault, the fortifications surely haven't been restored—this is a great opportunity! Moreover, in such heavy snow we need a solid roof, and we must eradicate the evil!" White Harbor instructor Desmond Mandell pounded the map on the table and roared.

Meyi could tell that the basis of his conclusion was speculation and his own need, not any genuine reason.

Meyi could never separate the White Harbor cavalry captain Desmond Titus from this man unless one of them spoke. The Desmond before her was the hot-tempered one; although his surname was Mandell, his status was far below that of the Titus family, and the latter was the heir to the Titus family's Scarlet Chamber Viscount.

"Too risky! In such heavy snow…… we should strike camp at once and return to White Harbor, or else we'll surely freeze to death in the snow!" Morsel Forest stared at Desmond, not yielding an inch.

The tent interior was constantly filled with the sound of the two arguing without cease.

"Freeze to death? Flip open the tent and look—what's outside isn't snow! For all that you count as a northerner, when have you ever seen warm snow? If northern snow were always like this, the savages would have learned to farm on snow!"

"Even if that snow is strange…… we're mainly cavalry—can your warhorses run? On snow we simply can't beat Bolton!" He realized his remark was off, fell silent a moment, then turned to Meyi: "Your Highness, while the snow hasn't yet flooded the roads, we should strike camp now and withdraw to White Harbor; the route may be hard, but at least the snow isn't cold enough to kill the soldiers, otherwise…… it'll be too late to regret."

Morsel Forest spoke harshly and sternly, laying out the pros and cons; beside him, Earl Glover, Sir Mason Seven, Huban, and Henry Not all remained silent, showing these veteran northerners feared the rapidly changing environment more, not to lose their bearings just because Holloway City had fallen and Lady Donara's siblings' fate was unknown.

"Your Highness, Holloway City has already fallen, our advantage and battle purpose are gone; if heavy snow blocks the roads—this is practically inevitable—without a stronghold for shelter, staying here is too dangerous." Sir Mason Seven spoke, setting the tone for the western river commanders' opinion.

Withdraw troops as soon as possible.

Her left and right cavalry commanders and infantry commander had already spoken; she couldn't go against their views, and she had waited this long—if there were any other opinions or ideas, they should have been raised by now.

She lowered the spear she had planted on the ground, was about to order a withdrawal, when little attendant Hodnorui flung open the tent and ran to her.

"Sir, Gasbandji requests an immediate audience with you?"

"If it's little Gasbandji, let him wait; if it's the big one, then let's see him?"

As her voice fell, Big Gas flung open the curtain, bringing in a foul-smelling wind and snow into the tent.

"Your Highness, I suppose I'm the big one." Big Gas entered, head covered in white snow, panting: "The forward camp found that strangers had thrown down a sack. Inside the sack we discovered something strange, and also a letter."

The officers inside the tent turned their eyes to the sack in his hand.

"Could Bolton be trying to frighten us with heads?" Mason Seven spoke.

"Maybe it's a head, but definitely missing a part!" Big Gas handed the pink-sealed letter separately to Meyi, brushing snow from his hair: "The letter had originally been tied to the sack."

Earl Glover went around the side, past the bulge of the tent sagging from snow, picked up the bloody sack, pursed his lips and brought it alone to the table. Morsel Forest rolled up the map on the table, cleared a space, and the earl then flung the sack onto the desk.

Bloody right ears kept sliding out of the sack's mouth.

Meyi clenched her fists, felt her face turn deathly pale, then angrily tore open the letter.

"Sir Meyi Stark of Winterfell……" She skipped the honorific and meaningless greeting, went straight to the body of the letter: "As you can see, my army has already taken Holloway Fort and killed all the guards and male servants——the maids and their mistresses are still useful." This was important information; she reread the neat handwriting up front once more, knowing the purely provocative latter part needed no attention, yet the corner of her eye involuntarily read the rest, unable to stop: "Since heads are too heavy to carry easily, I send their ears to prove I speak true. I hereby offer this as compensation for your putting out the right eye of the red‑robed monk Asara." The signature was the North Guard and the Terror Fort Duke Luos Bolton.

She reached out and slammed the letter hard onto the desk; several ears fell to the floor from the trembling.

The last person who directly provoked her was still in Mirin.

Your Highness, the letter?

"Want to look? Go ahead!" She swept the letter away, letting the paper fall onto the blood‑stained ears.

Sir Mason Seven first picked up the letter, read it silently, then passed it to the earl beside him; when the letter came back to Desmond, he had already burst into curses.

Filthy words only made things more irritating.

"He isn't offering us a gift, so why are you cursing him?" a clear female voice came from behind Meyi, cutting off the cursing. Sasha walked to the edge of the table.

"Little girl, this isn't a gift, it's a provocation!"

"This is something mortals give to the tree god—why isn't it a gift?"

"Shut up!" Meyi had no patience for her nonsense: "If you like it, take them away and help me send them to your tree god." Better yet, ask it to make a summer appear, "No matter what, I must punish this shameless act!"

"Your Highness, this is Bolton's scheme; he wants you to stay, even to attack Holloway Fort—you must absolutely not fall for it!" Sir Mason Seven offered counsel.

"Fall for it? My main army is lingering in the rear, not leaving enough space before Holloway Fort—that's the real trap! I rode out to observe Holloway Fort, thinking it was as stable as Mount Tai—that's the trap!" Meyi said angrily, "All that's over; now I just want him to pay the price!"

"Your Highness!" the Earl of Deep Forest Fort exclaimed, "You absolutely must not act rashly!"

"I lose precisely because I'm not bold enough!" She restrained herself from drawing her long sword, "The main camp is yours, Earl!" Under everyone's gaze she strode out of the big tent into the snow‑drifts camp; perhaps now, if she pursued, she could still intercept the Bolton soldiers before they returned to camp.

"Henry, pick twenty sword‑and‑shield men for me, ambush them on the rear slope where Long Creek meets Chidao, and wait for my return!" When Henry Not came running after her, she gave the order.

Your Highness, you?

"Kill that red‑robed monk." The snowfall ended.