Chapter 38

In the two hours before evening this afternoon, Duke welcomed visiting Duke of Hertford Pertie Beilixi. He led a luxurious retinue of nearly twenty people, instantly filling the duke's rented villa. To avoid noise, the duke directly ushered Lord Beilixi into the reception room he had already prepared.

Lord Beilixi had green eyes, handsome features, and a tiny moustache that made him look elegant and wise, while a delicate imitation-songbird brooch pinned to his black-purple silk coat also made him look neat and noble. In terms of actual rank, he was already one of the top figures in the nation.

"Lord Beilixi, it is an honor for you to visit my humble abode," said the Duke.

"Actually, I am the one who feels honored. If it weren't for you coming to Seagull Town, my lord, how could I have fled Eagle's Nest Castle? Spending all day on that cold mountain accompanying a crying child is hardly pleasant."

Such talk is utterly unbelievable. If it's not pleasant, why not simply hand the child over to the Justice Alliance? Xiaozhitou returned from King's Landing to Eagle's Nest Castle and married Laisatu Li not long ago, and Lai Sha died at the hands of a singer—his suspicion is truly too great.

But he still firmly controls the Vale, demonstrating his ability, and the Duke likes to work with such people. If the rumors are true, during his tenure as harbor master of Seagull Town, he reorganized the port's management, increased the efficiency of ships entering and leaving the port, greatly boosting the port's customs revenue; after the tragedy at Saltfield Town, this alone was enough to make the Duke look at him anew.

King's Landing merely found his trick of rubbing his fingers to produce a golden dragon amazing, but what are his true abilities? If this Xiaozhitou ever runs into trouble, the Duke believes he will certainly lend a hand. White Harbor is in need of such talent.

The Duke smiled and waited quietly for him to continue speaking.

"As the husband of my deeply beloved wife Laisatu Li, I cannot stand by and watch her orphan, my lord?"

The Duke continued to look at him with a calm smile, his green eyes unflinching.

"A child ruling the household—this is a family tragedy."

"You're absolutely right, my lord Duke." He raised his voice, as if to blow past the awkwardness, "I heard you've found a Frey lady?"

"Yes, my lord. The lady's name is Varda Frey."

"After Lysa Tully's death, Marquess Varda Frey advised me to find a Frey woman as a second wife. Heh, I must be cautious about marrying into their family, right?"

"Marrying a Frey wife would be advantageous for your rule over the Riverlands."

"Spare me, my lord—my fief in the Riverlands is Hertford, a grim city. By the way, my lord, you haven't done anything horrible in my castle, have you? Thinking of all those heroes ravaging my hall and kitchen makes my heart bleed."

The Duke shrugged.

"Haha, my lord, I was just speaking casually. But it's definitely a grim city. Look at my predecessor—he didn't even see the castle before being sent to the Wall."

"Lord Stlint was sent there just because he's stupid."

"You're right about that. I don't want to be like him, but we do share something in common," he glanced at the Duke, hinting, "lowly birth."

Lord Beilixi appeared like a debater with ease, sparring with an nonexistent opponent.

"My grandfather was a mercenary from Braavos. He used a titan as his sigil," he sneered, "What business does a petty noble have using that? Guess what my predecessor, Lord Stlint, used for his sigil? If you heard, you'd know why I chose the imitation-songbird."

"I'd love to hear the details."

"A bloodstained long spear." Heh, Lord Beilixi snorted, as if he had gained the Duke's agreement in a common cause, "to boast of his shameless betrayal of the former prime minister."

"So that's why such a fool was later written off—he was outright fired by the next prime minister and now he's still eating ice on the Wall!"

"Little devil?"

"Little devil. He's also eating dirt in prison! Come to think of it, I still respect him, except for the dwarf's copper coins." He laughed lightly, and the Duke decided to smile along.

"Speaking of the little devil, we must mention our great King Joffrey. His early death could cause the Tyrells and Lannisters to split, and I believe the bigwigs in King's Landing think they can use Tommen to mend the rift. Know that my dukedom came about to facilitate this marriage."

"Indeed, it's sad. Because of this unfortunate news, the Tyrells' reinforcements have had other ideas, which also greatly affects my northern endeavors."

"With Tywin Lannister in the middle, they won't have any ideas, so the domestic situation will soon stabilize—except for your north, my lord." He chuckled, "Let me hear, for the peace of the north, how many gold dragons has the Iron Throne and its allies provided you? I will certainly organize the Vale's nobles to supply good goods, so you can spend every last coin."

Lord Beilixi displayed deliberate friendliness, but the Duke saw no smile in his green eyes.

"As you see, an army of ten thousand men and four thousand horses remains, along with the four thousand Bolton troops in the north with two thousand horses, plus at least ten thousand northern allies and an equal number of horses; I need to procure provisions for three years of war." the Duke proposed.

"My lord, in my view, if the war cannot be ended within three months, you should retreat to the castle and wait for this winter to end." He twisted his lips and smiled, "Perhaps by spring, when you lead your army to Winterfell, you'll find that not a single living person remains inside."

"Waiting for winter to end also requires stockpiling food. This demand is not excessive."

"The Vale's stored grain cannot satisfy you, Lord Bolton."

"Why not purchase overseas? My lord, I can order provisions just for you."

He adopted a thoughtful pose, turned around the room, then slowly said: "Overseas is also full of conflict; the eastern continent has been thrown into chaos by that dragon queen, making grain imports expensive; add the autumn-winter storms, and even if shipped, the cost would be astronomical, while your gold dragons are not limitless."

"In short, see how much food you can coordinate, my lord. If it's truly difficult, I'll just have to go for a quick victory."

"My lord, with your battlefield experience and rich expertise, I shouldn't need to remind you. If you yourself are so lacking in provisions, I don't believe your enemies will be well supplied."

The Duke gave him a questioning look so he could continue.

"To shut down Winterfell's appetite, you must first seal its mouth. White Harbor will bring Winterfell endless supplies—you should demand the Iron Throne hand over Mandel's heir, my lord!"

"White Harbor is of great significance to Winterfell; I have already asked the Iron Throne for Mandel's heir, but received no reply. However, my lord, you are right—to starve Winterfell, we must cut its link to White Harbor."

"And to cut that link, we must deploy troops, and deploying troops requires provisions," Lord Beilixi interjected.

Lord Beilixi showed an expectant smile; the Duke knew this was the moment to set conditions.

"How much can Lord Beilixi provide?"

"Provisions for twenty thousand troops for a year—if you bought them directly in town, you could only get about thirty percent of that figure, the price would be at least thirty percent higher, and as for the time required, it's unimaginable."

Lord Beilixi smiled, as if victory were already in hand.

"Lord Beilixi's assistance is so precious—how should I express my gratitude?"

"My lord, you need not express gratitude; I naturally have my own demands."

"Please speak plainly."

"Sansa Stark."

The Duke stared into his eyes, seeing the slight tremor at the corners of his mouth. This was a genuine request, the Duke was certain.

"She is a daughter-in-law of the Lannister family."

"She will likely also be a Lannister widow. You don't know yet, but she has fled the wedding. I suspect she has already returned to Winterfell, so when you, my lord, breach Winterfell, as a condition of my assistance, you must send her to me."

"I've heard some rumors about you, my lord. Are you intending to take Catelyn's daughter as your second wife?"

"What's wrong with that? She is beautiful and of high birth, and moreover a widow—perfect match for me, a widower! For her I have already given so much!"

"The little devil isn't dead."

"The dowager empress has summoned the Mountain back to King's Landing; I see he won't survive. Even if he dons black robes, heh, he won't live long, or, my lord, do you think he could still escape from prison?"

"Without a doubt. But Sansa Stark is possibly Eddard Stark's only living daughter; if we are to pacify the north, I must have the heir marry her."

"I haven't forgotten, my lord—Eddard still has other daughters; one is ahead of Sansa in the line of succession for Winterfell and would herself be Lady of Winterfell. Or do you think Eddard's two sons could still survive?" He licked the corner of his mouth, victory already in hand.

The duke had no need to answer his question.

"Deal."

"Do we need to write down the deal's terms? Like the Iron Treasury does?"

The duke questioned him with his eyes.

He showed a broader smile, his right hand resting on the ruby mimic bird on his left sleeve, slowly stroking it.

"You wouldn't think the Iron Treasury's liaison has been in Seagull Town for so many days without coming to see me, would you? My lord, I haven't been monitoring you. I've signed that kind of contract on behalf of King Robert far too many times."

He gave a wry smile: "Signing the contract is easy, getting the money is easy, but when the treasury is empty, even if the Iron Throne wishes to repay, it cannot do so; this predicament is known only to the Minister of Finance."

He put away his smile: "Now, what I'm worried about is the 'repayment' intention. The Iron Treasury has its own maxims, but the little mimic bird does not; my lord, is this concern of mine reasonable?"

"Of course. What kind of 'intention' do you want?"

He again showed a mocking smile: "Lord Ed is rather stubborn, but sometimes people prefer to deal with someone like Ed Stark."

The duke reluctantly stretched the corners of his mouth.

"My lord, to be honest, just looking at your eyes frightens me. If you breach the contract, I don't have the courage to say anything that couldn't be postponed."

"I will not breach the contract."

"My lord, some have the will but lack the ability, which is unavoidable; some have the ability but lack the will, which is common; and there is a kind of person most hopeless, for lacking ability, thus lacking the will."

"Which kind do you think I belong to?"

"I hope you belong to the kind like Ed."

The duke gave him a questioning look.

"For the promise, I will give my all."

"Me too."

He showed no change in expression.

"Do you want me to swear an oath?"

"If possible, I hope you swear by the god you believe in."

"In the name of the North Guard and the Duke of Terror Fort, under the witness of the Old Gods, I pledge to fulfill my duty to Lord Belise." The duke felt anger for the first time.

His smile turned radiant. "My lord, starting tomorrow, you can spend the gold."