Chapter 254

Shouts of killing filled the battlefield; she wanted Binshi to gather cavalry on the warhorses to sweep away the resisting Bolton soldiers, but her pain grew worse. When she unexpectedly spat blood on her horse, the guard cavalry beside her changed expression, their excited fervor almost instantly turning to worry, and thereafter they kept shouting "Your Highness, Your Highness" without cease, which made her vexed.

She was sure she would not die yet.

She wanted to speak out angrily, to have anyone among them organize the cavalry and infantry, to break through and sweep away Bolton's last defenses one by one, to play the role of a competent commander on the chaotic battlefield, but the pain that had been suppressed suddenly showed its destructive power; she had to expend great effort to resist it, to the point that speaking became difficult, so whether giving orders or rebuking, she had to endure the pain along with it.

The guard cavalry worried about her condition, surrounding her in the center of the battlefield, guarding against possibly oblivious enemies.

She entrusted her safety to these eager youths, closed her eyes, and waited quietly amid the noisy battlefield for her body to recover somewhat.

The soldiers and warhorses around them rode around their little island and scattered to various parts of the battlefield.

She seemed to hear the cavalry's orders, the bugle from Binshi on the warhorse, the gradually dwindling cries of anguish, and afterward the enduring cheers and long bugle blasts.

That was the order for a full-scale assault, to seek out the enemy and crush them on their own.

The earl would help her handle everything afterward, she thought.

She did not know how long she had kept her eyes closed; when she opened them again and felt somewhat recovered, only scattered painful cries and low moans surrounded her.

"Where is Earl Golof?" she asked Sir Sam Neil to her left.

Sam heard the voice, quickly turned his head, glanced at her in surprise for a second, then stammered: "He, he... has already led the cavalry in pursuit of the fleeing soldiers." He was a bit hesitant, and under her gaze he went on: "I also haven't seen Sir Mason Sewin; Henry Norris has just organized the soldiers and headed toward Haworth Castle; Lord Moor, he, he has already died in battle, it seems a spear pierced his belly, we couldn't save him... Now Lord Huban should be in charge here, I don't know where he is."

What about Bolton?

"I saw a group of cavalry bearing Bolton's banner flee eastward, while Lus Bolton led part of the routed troops back to Haworth Castle." He began to smile and replied loudly.

Her heart sank.

Despite the great victory, failing to capture Lus Bolton meant the war would naturally continue; there might be a second battle, a third, and many more, until the blood of the entire North runs dry...

She felt she had been too optimistic, thinking one battle could decisively settle the outcome.

"Forward!" she lightly patted the horse's back and shouted loudly, as if her recent pain had completely vanished.

The warhorse followed her will, galloping across the corpse-strewn wilderness; behind her, the guard cavalry began to cheer loudly, not knowing whether it was because of victory or because she appeared not seriously wounded.

They soon approached Haworth Castle, seeing Bolton's empty camp on the gray plain, some of which had been set ablaze.

As she passed through the busy soldiers and saw Henry Norris, he was directing the troops, turning the anti-cavalry obstacles to face Haworth City.

To prevent the garrison from opening the gate at any moment and launching a "surprise attack" on them?

She regrettably gazed at the lion-and-stag bifurcated flag still flying high over Haworth Castle, but there was nothing she could do about the situation. Even if she had no problems, Bolton could at any time retreat to the castle and gather part of the routed troops.

"Your Highness," Henry Norris burst into a huge grin upon seeing her, elated, his longsword seemingly with nowhere to put, "Bolton has slunk back into the city; we've won a great victory!"

She smiled and nodded, saying nothing, feeling she shouldn't add to his optimism, or worse, dampen his spirits.

"Ha, Your Highness, thanks to the defecting Fleming soldiers, you know, Lus Bolton was stupid enough to burn the Fleming officers on the battlefield! Haha, I laughed till my stomach hurt!" He was indeed very happy, his blue eyes shining on his drunken-looking face, "I'm going to turn the story of Fleming and Bolton into a ballad to sing for those castle-dwelling bastards, they said you were a witch, but now everyone sees this Bolton lot are the demons! Hey, if the soldiers hear it, maybe they'll sneakily open the gate!" Henry Norris, covered in blood, sweat, and dirt, yet his high spirits unaffected, "Your Highness, you can stay in Lady Haworth's castle tonight!"

"You're the one who wants to stay, right?" Mei Yi chuckled.

"Hehe." He gave a foolish grin.

"Even if you marry Lady Haworth, you won't get Haworth Castle."

"How could I not know? Her surname is Mandel! Still, a few nights would be nice, best to sleep until that kid Bernard comes of age." He fawned, "Your Highness, will you speak for me?"

To some extent, Mei Yi is the one who can decide Lady Haworth's marriage; however, a decision that disregards the parties' wishes would damage her authority, but it's clear she only needs to consider the other person's feelings.

"I could also send her to Lawrence Snow. Most of the Haworth tenants would probably gladly accept." Just saying, she herself would not accept this arrangement, "Sir Lawrence has performed well on the battlefield; he has great potential."

"That little brat... he's too young; how could Lady Haworth like him?" His brown beard twitched, thoroughly dissatisfied, "Anyway, I'm stronger than him; didn't you see my valor today? My infantry blocked Bolton's charge, and I performed far better than that hairless kid..."

"Young folks are full of energy; the lady might like him!" Mei Yi was amused by his appearance, "Moreover, he looks like the Earl of Haworth, which would remind her of him! And you, just an ordinary warrior of the mountain clans, how could you catch her eye?"

"What? Hey, Your Highness, I am also the direct bloodline of the great chief of Nott, and I have Stark blood too; counting from father and mother, I'm only slightly less than you."

"Don't say you're just the eldest son of the former great chief; even if you were the president yourself, what makes you worthy of the countess? You yourself said her surname is Mandel; all the pelts in your mountain home put together couldn't win her favor."

"Hehe," he instantly shifted posture, putting on a fawning expression again, "I'm healthy and at the right age; no need to win her favor with pelts. Moreover, Your Highness, if you just speak a word for me, I'll have all the favor I need."

"Then after Bernard comes of age, you'll take her to the old forest?"

"Hehe, Your Highness, the northern forts are clearly going to have many vacancies; couldn't I have a set? If you permit, I could bring her to live in Terror Castle!"

"Haha, you really are something!" Mei Yi was successfully amused by him, feeling relaxed all over, "Terror Castle isn't that easy to profit from."

Having said that, she remounted her warhorse.

Henry Norris fawnedly approached and attended; one could hardly tell he was a warrior of the mountain clans, nor that he had endured a long period of captivity.

"Sir, you weren't saying you wanted to sing a song to get Bolton's soldiers to open the gate for you?" Mei Yi turned her horse's head again, "Let your soldiers think about it together, but don't forget, Bolton must not cross this river even half a step."

"Yes, Your Highness!" He straightened his posture pretentiously and gave a loud, silly reply.

Mei Yi chuckled lightly and returned to the battlefield once more.

Soldiers seeing her and the attendant knights return made way for them.

She dismounted, only to see Moor's son Brandon Forest kneeling before her, tears streaming nonstop.

Lord Moor's abdomen was soaked in blood; he now lay peacefully on the barren hill. She stepped forward and patted the grieving youth's head, unable to utter any comforting words, only standing beside him, sharing his sorrow, then she hurried away.

"The battle isn't over yet!" Sir Harlow calmly said to Brandon Forest, then followed Mei Yi as they walked out from among the scattered soldiers.

Thereafter, she walked the battlefield, randomly seeking a wounded soldier lying and groaning.

She repeatedly knelt on the ground, gripping the hand of a gravely wounded soldier, gently asking their name, then with a dagger they couldn't see swiftly sent them back to the embrace of the old gods.

The youths beside her went from shock to silence, then solemnly watched her every action, unable to utter a single joking "hehehe."

She also slipped out of the joy of victory.

A breeze swept over the wilderness, the banners slowly unfurling, facing the setting sun, revealing a heaviness never before seen.

She could listen to these severely wounded speak more, but many last words were boring; she continually suppressed boredom, kept herself patient, listening to them difficulty recount regrets and will arrangements, hearing them charge her with the impossible—telling someone how they love someone, telling someone to hurry and marry, or utter a profanity rich in flavor.

She had no time; in the end, she could only soothe with gestures and actions, trying to stop them from speaking, then with regret and sympathy watch the light fade from their eyes, then immediately rise and move on to the next.

She felt some could be healed or even restored to original condition with a bit extra effort, but... she felt her energy limited, time insufficient, task still heavy, so she personally finished off those who could have been completely wiped out, sending them one by one to the old gods.

She admitted she could never fairly treat every wounded; to her, this was where she felt most guilty after each battle.

This was a battle worth celebrating, yet now she seemed to have personally smeared it with a tragic hue.

She felt she was having a bad influence on the youths beside her.

At first, the guard cavalry following behind her were either high-spirited and proud, or silent and solemn; but when countless lives were personally ended by her hand, the faces of these guard cavalry began to turn exceptionally pallid, all previous vigor and solemnity completely vanished, leaving only fatigue and dejection.

She didn't know whether she needed to say something to these youths at this time, like the nonsense 'One day, you too should be like this.' She also wasn't sure if her father Lord Eddard or her brother Robb would personally take action, nor did she understand whether this move truly had any practical significance.

In the south, such matters are handled by the church, with the Silent Sisters providing last rites, but now she can only say to them, 'May you return to the embrace of the old gods.'

Old gods. Old. Is this what the believers of the old gods have abandoned the new age for? He hopes the philosopher can help her, so she can gain control over the realm beyond the mundane.

"May you return to the embrace of the god." She heard herself say those words last.

For most of the time thereafter, she spent it this way; otherwise, she could only sit here watching the rosy clouds rise and the rivers and mountains wane.

She shook off her emotions.

Here there was nothing but the stench of feces and urine, the bloody savagery, and the bizarre odor of burnt corpses mingling together on the battlefield.

"Ugh..." The horn sounded again, and the banners of the ice plains wolves and Glover's Iron Fist rose from the wilderness.

They finally returned.