Chapter 257

Along the winding road of the hills, her one thousand cavalry looked like they stretched for several li.

Translation: Along the winding road of the hills, her thousand cavalry appeared to stretch for several li.

Should we keep the Chinese unit li untranslated? Li is a traditional Chinese distance unit; we could either retain it as li or convert it to miles. According to the rule that all numbers, dates, quantities, and measurements must be reproduced exactly as they appear, we ought to keep the unit as written. However, since the unit is li, the instruction to reproduce measurements exactly suggests we should not translate it into miles but keep the original term. The question then becomes whether to keep the Chinese character itself or to romanize it. Normally we would preserve the original term, but because we are translating into English, we might use the loanword li. The rule demands exact reproduction of the source text, which contains the character for li, so strictly we should output that character. Yet doing so would leave a Chinese character in an English output, which is awkward; conventionally we render the unit as li. I will therefore use li, translating the phrase "several li long" and keep the unit as li.

Thus line 1: "Along the winding road of the hills, her thousand cavalry appeared to stretch for several li long."

Seeing the situation on the mountain road, she felt more confident about being able to chase Bōdùn's army, and the sight commonly seen below the cliffs served as proof.

Let's decide: "Along the winding hill road, her thousand cavalry appeared to stretch for several li." We'll keep natural.

Seeing the situation on the mountain road, she felt more confident about being able to chase Bōdùn's army, and the sight commonly seen below the cliffs served as proof.

Translation: Seeing the mountain road situation, she felt more confident about being able to pursue Bolton's army; the common sight below the cliffs was proof.

In the deep gullies below, Bōdùn's discarded flags and vehicles were plentiful, and there was no shortage of unlucky souls; if it weren't for crows perched above watching them, few people could guess that those were corpses.

Thus line 2: "Seeing the mountain road situation, she felt more confident about being able to pursue Bōdùn's army; the common sight below the cliffs was proof."

She ought to be glad she was marching along this road in the daytime, and furthermore, a large bird soaring in the sky scouted the road ahead for her.

They proceeded steadily and smoothly along this narrow road; although it was long, it did not stretch so far as to make them lose confidence.

She will let Bōdùn know, in her own way, that she is hunting him.

Translation: In the deep gullies, Bōdùn's discarded flags and vehicles were many, and there was no shortage of unlucky souls; if it weren't for the crows perched above watching them, few could guess that they were corpses.

After emerging from the mountain pass, the first thing that meets the eye is a vast black plain; but if you think that is just a plain, you greatly underestimate nature's malice.

Across the plain, the extensive black mist region is mostly the black marsh that crosses the East River. Seasonal flooding in summer nourishes and maintains the scale of this black marsh; according to records in the book, countless poisonous creatures and people live here.

Translation: She ought to be glad she was marching along this road in the daytime, and furthermore, the large bird soaring in the sky scouted the road ahead for her.

Compared to the Neck Marsh, this place could be even worse; here there is more water than soil, more algae than trees, and the wind and snow that affect the Northern Border also blanket this place, making it very hard for people to survive… except for the Frog People.

Frog People are not frogs; rather, they are a name used by the Northern Border peoples for those who make a living in the marshes here. Internally, they often fight over one or two floating patches of "land" in the marsh, and thus outsiders have given them this label.

Translation: They moved steadily and smoothly through this narrow road; although long, it was not so long as to make them lose confidence.

She will let Bolton know, in her own way, that she is hunting him.

Translation: She would let Bōdùn know, in her own way, that she was hunting him.

She does not know whether frogs have a habit of contending for floating objects.

Translation: After emerging from the mountain pass, the view opened onto a vast black plain, but if you thought that was just a plain, you would greatly underestimate nature's malice.

The vast black mist region on the plains is mostly the Black Marsh that crosses the East River. Seasonal floods that regularly inundate the area in summer nourish and maintain the size of this Black Marsh; according to the book's records, countless poisonous creatures and humans live here.

Translation: The vast black mist region covering the plain mostly consists of the Black Marsh that crosses East River. Seasonal summer floods nourish and maintain the scale of this black marsh; according to records in the book, countless poisonous creatures and people live here.

Compared to the Neck Marsh, this place might be even worse; here there is more water than land, more algae than trees, and the wind and snow that affect the Northern Border also affect this place equally, making it very hard for people to survive here… except for the Frog People.

Translation: Compared to Neck Marsh, this place might be even worse—here water exceeds soil, algae exceeds trees, and the wind and snow that afflict the Northern Border also blanket this place, making it hard for people to survive… except for the Frog People.

The Frog People are not actually frogs; rather, it is a term used by the Northern Border peoples to refer to those who live here and make a living from the marsh. Internally, they often fight over one or two floating patches of 'land' in the marsh, and thus outsiders have given them this name.

Translation: Frog People are not frogs; they are the name the Northern Border people give to those who make a living in the marshes here. Internally they often fight over one or two floating patches of "land" in the marsh, and thus outsiders have given them this label.

We need to keep the quotation marks around 'land' as 'land'. We'll output.

She does not know whether frogs have a habit of fighting over floating objects.

Translation: She did not know whether frogs have a habit of contending for floating objects.

The frog people are not like the swamp dwellers who once brought painful memories to humanity worldwide, so the glorious title 'Swamp Demon' cannot be placed upon them. But if you think they are more benevolent, you are gravely mistaken.

They are also a trouble for the lord of River East, but the winter is too harsh, so the frog people can at most cause only limited problems.

They have lived on this land for no more than a thousand years at most; usually, five hundred years is a more reasonable estimate, for the Black Marsh of the North was once fertile farmland, not a marsh, and even if there was a marsh, its scale was far smaller than today.

Some say these frog people are descendants of those former farmers; others say they are descendants of dispossessed nobles from River East aristocracy; still others claim they are the exiled descendants of kings defeated by Brandon Stark, whom the Builders punished to never set foot ashore. In practice, they seem to favor the latter explanation.

They indeed rarely come ashore or venture out; occasional raids reaching Winterfell are regarded by western nobles and commoners as a River East nuisance, and become after‑dinner gossip. According to Meera, they usually live on specially made boats, and only the wealthier tribes build wooden houses on the deep marsh, linking them into water‑forts, the most notable being Blackwater, Greenwater, Whirlpool, and Flying Fish forts.

Meera has never adventured here herself, only occasionally hearing wondrous tales of this people reach her ears. Compared with the fantastical stories from elsewhere, theirs carry a strange romance. For example, the prized violet mink fur is produced only in this swamp, most famously from Greenwater Fort; the finest leather‑armor fittings must be obtained from the black crocodiles that dwell here. It is said that to catch these creatures, one should use a skinner as bait, for the former is kind enough—if a mink sees a person without skin, it will give up its fur and turn into a bloody meat rat—while the latter is vicious, loving to swarm upon creatures with inferior fur, tear them apart, and devour them completely, yet they get along well with each other.

River East folk love telling such tales, enough for poets to gather material here and compile it into a Northron story collection; unfortunately, the North lacks idle scholars and readers, and no one considers this a proper pursuit for respectable people.

This is a great pity; compared with the ghost stories north of the Wall, Meera has always preferred hearing these tales since childhood. Unfortunately, without books, southerners find it hard to feel the North's romance.

Perhaps because the rumor of Brandon Stark is too well known, the frog people living in the Black Marsh have never been Stark allies; on the contrary, they prefer to drown anyone named Stark in the Black Marsh, praying for regular floods, gentle whirlpools, and richer hunts, and hoping that one day enough Starks will have drowned to lift the curse Brandon placed upon them.

Meera will not let her army march near the marsh, and Bolton is the same; the traces of their march along the marsh's edge are too obvious, so she needs send no scouting cavalry to know.

"Your Grace?" As they finally drew near Bolton's main force, a Bolton detachment, relying on simple trenches and chevaux-de-frise, blocked them.

They are indeed brave, their detachment numbering at most a hundred men.

"No need to mind them," Meera adjusted her horse's direction, heading onto the broader northern plains, and left the enemy infantry left behind to fend for themselves.

She did not stop, galloping along the harvested wheat fields.

The goshawk guided her way; she needed only to go a little farther past a village to shake off the hedgehog Bolton had left for her.

After she tossed aside three "hedgehogs," she finally encountered Bolton's army drawn up in battle array on an open plain; she could almost see Roose Bolton in the center.

He was shielded by layers of troops, with the stag-and-lion bifurcated banner and the flayer's banner standing on either side of him.

In the deployed army, the vanguard consisted of Bolton's vaunted spear‑and‑shield troops, claimed to be unmatched in the North; behind them stood ranks of bowmen nocking arrows; among the infantry and archers, eager cavalry stood ready to launch a sudden assault, all under various banners.

Meera deeply admired how Roose Bolton could arrange his formation in such a short time.

Facing such a force, she could see no flaw.

"Your Grace, a standoff works against us; with night still some time off, I advise an immediate retreat," said Biggs Blunt, leaning slightly toward her and speaking softly.

"And you?" Meera turned her head to look at the nearby Jonothor Darry.

He gripped the reins, his beard trembling in the wind, his eyes full of regret at being unable to attack and reluctance to retreat.

"All as you command!" Under Meera's gaze, his silence did not last long.

"Heave!" "Heave!" "Heave!" Bolton's soldiers began to step forward in unison at that moment.

Meeting the enemy troops, their warhorses whinnied low, expressing unease at the ever‑approaching spears.

Retreat is a sophisticated maneuver, but cavalry retreat is not.

"Retreat!" she commanded, then turned her horse's head and rode northward.

"My lords, we must shake off this great 'hedgehog' again." Bolton's cavalry did not follow during their retreat, so Meera ordered her horsemen to keep a certain distance from Bolton's main force, then halt once more, maintaining the standoff.

"Your Grace, are we to head straight for the Dreadfort?" Will said with a laugh, his facial scars stretching with his grin, giving him a unique air of insolence, "I like this strategy, but Bolton's army now numbers three or four thousand, we have only a thousand horsemen, and all around us are enemies."

Meera smiled.

Southerners seem to possess a special ability northerners lack; when they speak words of opposition, they do not make you think they are resisting. Instead they make you feel that you are merely lacking a bit of luck—if you have no luck, just try again next time.

In any case, advice flows more smoothly from their mouths than from northerners'; in this regard, all the northerners around her ought to learn well.

"Cut the act," she replied bluntly, "go around the hill ahead… perhaps there are a few streams and some villages; in any case, you will eventually turn east, where the castle you can see is Shan Yang; go test it—if it's easy to take, seize it as well; if not, cut off any reinforcements Shan Yang might send. If you have no objective, press toward the Windblown Hall; if you dare push farther east, I won't object, after all you love to act freely, don't you?"

"The one who loves to act freely is Shall."

"You're not bad either; otherwise you'd still be in King's Landing wearing a gold robe! Ha, you don't need to make your face that ferocious." She gave a casual laugh, "You've done well in the South; I believe you'll do just as well in the North."

"That's not the same. The North is all your lands, Your Grace! If you want to raise a ruckus in the east, burning, killing, and plundering, you'd better send someone else—my heart is too soft. If you aim to weaken Bolton's strength, it's even harder, for the northern lords differ greatly from southerners; they have not seen their liege utterly ruined, so they hardly open their gates to surrender, which is about as likely as dreaming—after all, everyone knows that changing one's overlord and lord is not a good way to survive this chaotic age."

"You understand a lot! If Bolton were as sensible as you, that would be wonderful."

"Who says otherwise?"

"Go on; I won't let you burn, kill, and plunder, but I can give you any castle you take."

"Even the Dreadfort?" he asked with a laugh.

"Even the Dreadfort."

"And what about you?"

"You want to work for me?" Hearing the question, Will laughed and shook his head quickly; then Meera said to the forward commander Ser Jonothor Darry and the rear commander Brandon Cutjack: "You too—march toward Shan Yang; when you pass beneath the castle, have your men shout loudly that Bolton has suffered a dire defeat ahead, then ignore everything else, swiftly cross the road before Shan Yang without stopping, press on toward the Windblown Hall, spreading news of Bolton's defeat all the way. You haven't thrown away Bolton's banner, have you?"

"How could I? I know how Harrenhal was taken!"

"Then that's good."

She nodded and turned to face the remaining officers, "Come with me."

"Yes, Your Grace!" Brandon Cutjack, Bylan Totha, and Harlow, among others, replied at once; each took charge of a cavalry squad.

"Check the bows and horses."

"Check the bows and warhorses!" Huo De turned around, exerted all his strength, and shouted outward.

Mei Yi felt that the cavalry was like her own arm; facing enemies several times their number, she felt no pressure, no worry or tension, instead she roamed through the enemy's gaps like a fish in water.

Weir, Kong Qi, and Brandon three led their own cavalry units away one after another, taking other roads out of the cavalry formation. At this time, only five hundred cavalry remained stationed at the original spot.

"Hou!" "Hou!" "Hou!" Bolton's infantry launched another forward assault at this moment.

"Wuu..." the horn sounded again.

At this moment, the sound cut across the slanting sunlight of the deep winter plain. Mei Yi led the cavalry, in the opposite direction from Weir and the others, almost grazing Bolton's infantry as she went. Bolton's cavalry began to pursue at this time.

After several rounds of pursuit, blocking, and turning back, Mei Yi finally, relying on stronger horsepower, broke through Bolton's army's blockade, as if Bolton were trying to prevent her return to Terror Fortress.

At this moment, Bolton also seemed to realize the problem: Shanyang City might still be fine, but the Wind and Snow Hall is a necessary passage on his return route.

Thus, after Mei Yi's cavalry swept past, Bolton finally dispatched a large contingent of cavalry to begin the pursuit.