Chapter 294

Fine rain fell again from the heavens, casting a shadow over her military arrangements. Evidently, to make her fighting power more intimidating, she would once more postpone the attack date.

Time simply wore away slowly in this rainy season.

At this moment, Ho-de rested his chin on one hand while idly poking the fire with a thin branch held in the other; the orange light made his eyes sparkle, and beside him, Sha-sha stood on one foot, gripping a wooden sword, straining to keep her balance facing the tent.

Were it not for the furs scattered nearby, she would almost have thought she was still in Winterfell.

This was one of the few moments of leisure before the battle.

At this moment, Mei-yi sat in her place, carefully flipping through a volume from the Saiwen family's collection. The title had been worn smooth and faded, appearing to be *Chronicles of the Wolf Forest*, which recorded the strange and extraordinary events that had once occurred in the vast Wolf Forest of the North; from her current perspective, it was also quite interesting.

Bran would surely enjoy reading it.

Mei-yi stared blankly at the now‑read, tattered book, her thoughts already wholly flown to Winterfell.

This book was recorded on vellum, and Mei-yi did not know how many more people could leaf through it before it fell apart, nor how long it would take for its stories to vanish completely from memory.

Although the old gods can record everything, not everyone can draw knowledge from the tree god's memory to learn the past…… and she did not have that honor.

She had newly built the Scholar Tower in Winterfell; now that the war's gloom had slightly lifted, Scholar Aoduoli eagerly urged her to continue construction.

A transmitter and builder of knowledge, he considered himself such; yet Mei-yi had never seen him pick up a pen to copy any work. If such a book were placed before him, he might laugh and scold her for wasting effort on the wrong things. He, Scholar Luwen, and Scholar Roland shared the same attitude toward all manner of marvels—perhaps only if Mei-yi personally demonstrated to them could their views change.

Mei-yi could tolerate their arrogance, as well as a bit of foolishness out of step with the times.

There was no help for it; when she sent out ravens to the Academy City recruiting scholars widely, only Scholar Aoduoli and his apprentices answered, far from meeting her needs, but since someone was willing to come north to help her build a place of knowledge rivaling the Academy City, she could only feel grateful and reliant.

Several scholars spent her gold dragons as freely as flowing water.

But this was still tolerable; aside from buying books, most of the money was actually paid into the hands of the northerners, and Winterfell's sprinkler‑like consumption also benefited the surrounding area.

Mei-yi sighed. The scholars worked hard, and the ordinary folk remaining in Winterfell worked just as hard, yet the fruits of construction were disproportionate to their efforts. Even just clearing the original site of the Scholar Tower would take at least a year, let alone actual building.

Scholars were still too few.

Later she learned that even this handful of people who left the Academy City without permission had already been declared wanted by the Iron Throne and the Academy City. She would from time to time receive letters from the Academy City and the Haitaer family, sent by various means, demanding she return the fleeing scholars……

Mei-yi would certainly not satisfy the demands of the Haitaer family and the Academy City; she merely could no longer expect the Academy City to provide extra scholars, and even for the baron she had newly promoted, the Academy City might not dispatch corresponding attendants.

As for the newly made viscounts, hoping to have scholars just for show, there was hardly any chance. Mei-yi herself had no notion of training scholars to give away for free.

She held new hopes for the fledgling Academy City, so regardless of its attitude, she felt she must support Scholar Aoduoli's endeavors. However, it would be best if they did not devote their energy to alchemy, magic, religion, or philosophy……

If their intellect truly had nowhere to be used, Mei-yi had plenty of subjects to keep them occupied:

Her new capital's construction required the world's smartest designers and architects; to build it they would likely have to survey geography, study geology, research river flow and weather, and when they actually broke ground, they would need to fashion new tools—enough to wear down anyone's arrogance and ambition.

If they found building the new capital unchallenging, she could still spend coin to pique their interest; if they thought constructing the capital too difficult, Mei-yi could ask them to do something simple, such as designing a great bridge linking the two banks of the White Blade River—she truly needed a long bridge to connect east and west banks, not merely a ferry for boats to come and go.

In short, having the scholars devote their energy to such projects is far better than letting them squabble in rooms.

"Your Highness, the Flinthold count's men," Xiao Jia said, lifting the tent flap.

Ho-de hastily rose to his feet, while Sha-sha cried "Ayoyo!" as she fell to the ground, then quickly sprang up. "Here they come to haggle again!" Sha-sha snapped angrily: "We ought to string them all up from the trees!" Ho-de gave a soft hum in reply.

Within a few days, Jon Flinthold sent wave after wave of envoys to negotiate surrender terms with her, until finally Mei-yi refused even to lay their terms before the senior ministers for discussion.

Jon Flinthold's first demand was that Mei-yi acknowledge his lordship over the Barrowtomb and the Flinthold Finger, declare that the Barrowtomb's other heirs were illegitimate, recognize his wife Barbrey Dustin as Countess of the Stony Shore, and pardon himself, his wife, and his subordinate commanders for all past offenses.

Needless to say, Mei-yi outright rejected this proposal. She would never tolerate Flinthold meddling in the Barrowtomb and the Stony Shore; as for the crimes, she had to endure them. If he could give Lusibudun a chance, she could likewise give Barbrey Dustin a chance.

Heh, if she also took after the Boltons, she'd settle old and new grudges together.

The second time, the count sent envoys claiming fewer rights, this time omitting the Stony Shore; yet Mei-yi directly told them her bottom line. When they came a third time, she expected good news, but instead the envoys merely proposed giving the count more time to consider, and Mei-yi agreed to extend the deadline from three days to seven.

Now it was the fourth time.

"Please let them come in!" Mei-yi said, closing her book and setting it carefully aside.

The visitor was an old acquaintance, Wade Flinthold, though this time he was accompanied by Jack Flinthold and Jorah Flinthold, the latter two being prisoners she had rescued from Twin Rivers City and Hearthcastle respectively.

Choosing these two to serve as envoys together, Mei-yi had not anticipated.

"Sir Wade, I wonder whether this time Jon Flinthold has finally made up his mind?" Mei-yi exchanged a few pleasantries with the two old acquaintances, then invited them to sit.

"Your Highness, the Count Flinthold is unwell, now deep in winter; to have him strip to the waist, shoulder thorns, and come beg your forgiveness—we fear he cannot endure it… and if he died of it, that would only damage your reputation, which is truly improper."

"So you've come merely to tell me he objects to the form of apology?" Mei-yi mused, "When I first saw his army at the Barrowtomb, you told me his seasickness had not yet eased, so he could not come see me," Mei-yi chuckled, "Perhaps the count really is in poor health." Although shortly afterward he had seized the Barrowtomb hall.

"Yes, Your Highness, so might the count's sister act in his stead?"

"A sister? I didn't even know Lady Ailianda had borne Lord Jiawen Flinthold such a child."

"The Flinthold Finger is really too far from Winterfell, separated by sea and swamp, making communication difficult; your lack of information is quite understandable." Wade Flinthold sighed, "The count's first wife left him no heirs, so Anna Flinthold is his heir. Your Highness, there is precedent for an heir representing the lord in surrender."

"However, I am not a man who could marry that girl." The precedent he cited was obviously the tale of the Swamp King submitting to the King of Winter.

"You need only consent to let her sue for peace on his behalf."

"It looks like you're not dissatisfied with the form, but with the count himself coming in person."

"You may certainly think that, but it's not dissatisfaction……"

"So you want that girl to represent the count, stripping to the waist and shouldering thorns to come to my camp?" Mei-yi sneered, "I've never seen such a responsible brother."

"That girl is about your age……"

"I veto." Suspecting Jon Flinthold might be deliberately humiliating her, she cut him off immediately: "Since the count still has such a brave heir, let Anna stay in Winterfell until he and Barbrey have a child." Mei-yi curled the corner of her mouth in a smile, "Winterfell now has many counts, viscounts, and other highly promising warriors; Miss Anna will surely find a suitor to her liking—such an opportunity is nowhere else in the world."

"Miss Anna already has a betrothal," Jack Flinthold said sincerely.

Mei-yi glanced at Jack, feeling it was a real buzzkill.

"The betrothal can be annulled, and when the time comes it can be held in Winterfell." Mei-yi cut him short, rising to her feet with her sword as a staff: "I've tolerated your count long enough—I recall he first drew the line for the Starks east of the Wolf Forest and north of the Wolfhowl Town, and I told him his gains would depend solely on his ability," Mei-yi gave a cold snort, "Now I see his ability extends at most to swallowing the Flinthold Finger—he is militarily inept, lacks vision, is indecisive in action, and even his constitution is poor—I hope it's not because of Lady Barbrey, of course, I harbor no ill will."

The envoys twitched the corners of their mouths.

"As far as I know, she's no good lady." Mei-yi did not let them continue to set the mood, "She once used my father's bones to curse the Stark family; the stains on my head—such as 'witchwoman'—should rightly be placed on hers. I know it is she who is obstructing this deal, but you had best recognize her true nature, lest you bring disaster upon yourselves.

The envoys had not expected her to say so much this time, nor did they anticipate the substance of her accusations.

"No need to doubt—I can produce evidence to convince you—shortly, I hope his new wife will not become an obstacle to our agreement—your surname is all Flinthold, so I can tell you to your faces: if he is willing to change wives, I am prepared, in my liege's name, to annul his marriage to Barbrey." She rested her sword lightly on the table, "His father was a cripple, yet at least he passed the Flinthold estate intact into his hands; his health is poor, and there is no need to stake that inheritance on a peril he cannot withstand."

"Your Highness, you still……"

"If his health is poor and he cannot endure the cold, he may come see me wearing whatever he deems fit, beg my pardon, and I will forgive all his past offenses; otherwise, whatever fate befalls the Bolton family, that will be his fate as well."