"That was… spectacular." Wylis sat easy in the saddle, eyeing the wreckage of the bridge. "Not one stone left atop another. Old Walder always played the humble fool. High time he truly became one."
Wasting no time, he steered Caliburn south along the river banks. He still had work left to do, as leaving the region without a bridge would hurt his own interests in the future. Of course, he wasn't going to make a bridge, nor was it always required to cross rivers.
He made sure to get out of Frey territory first, and once he was in House Mallister's lands, he splashed into the river, barefoot, Caliburn's lead in his hand. He felt the riverbed, kicked at it a few times, and started raising it as he crossed.
Wylis was careful because just creating a ford wouldn't work in the long run, as the river's natural flow would sweep it away. So, he had to make an artificial ford that looked like a ford from the surface, but underwater, it had massive holes that allowed the river to pass through. Using some rocks to strengthen it, he was able to make a ford whose deepest part reached only to his calves, which was knee-height for most folks.
"A few more to make."
In just one night, he not only ruined House Frey but also took away any possibility of regaining the old trade. As soon as traders and travelers learn about the fords, they'd use them. So, even if Walder made a wooden bridge like the one that existed long, long ago, nobody would use it.
After making a total of four fords, spaced randomly, he crossed the river for the last time and started his ride up north on Kingsroad. He'd made all the fords in House Mallister's lands, and that meant House Frey wouldn't be able to capitalize on them. Of course, House Mallister was located on the western coast along Ironman's Bay, their lands still stretched all the way to touch the Green Fork river.
"Neigh-ehehe!"
"Aye, I know you're weary, my friend." He ran his fingers through Caliburn's mane. "We'll rest soon enough, once we find Chett and the boys. They'll have pitched a tent farther along the road."
Trotting, as if Caliburn understood his human's words, just neighed and kept going. Darkness didn't scare him.
####
Riverrun,
"Surely this is a jest," Lord Hoster Tully muttered. He set the folded parchment on the table and looked at his brother in disbelief. "It claims the entire bridge of the Twins has fallen. There is nothing left. The tremor destroyed it."
"What tremor?" asked Brynden Tully. "I felt nothing."
"I find myself wondering the very same thing. Old Walder still hasn't stirred from his bed, stunned witless by the sight of his precious bridge gone. His heir Stevron has been sending ravens to every corner of the realm, begging for gold and men to raise it again, but… well." Lord Hoster folded his arms across his chest, a thin smirk tugging at his lips.
"The Green Fork has ever been deep and wide, or so we all believed. Only yesterday, a trader came downriver and told me he spotted a stick jutting up in midstream with a scrap of red cloth tied to it. He took the chance, waded in, and found a ford. Then, farther down, he discovered three more."
"Fords in Green Fork?" Brynden frowned. "And we never found them until now? Lord of the Crossing loses his bridge, and fords appear. Too sweet a coincidence."
"It's the Gods bringing down their wrath upon House Frey," Lord Hoster said, comfortable and delighted. "I ought to send word to Wylis. Good lad was dragged into this nonsense without cause. It might lift his spirits a touch."
But before getting to writing, Hoster looked up at his brother.
"Go see these fords with your own eyes. They sit in the Mallister holdings. Let the whole of the Riverlands know it."
####
Moat Cailin,
It was a long, long journey. On the map, Westeros seemed rather small compared to Essos, but it was still too grand. From the Twins to Moat Cailin alone was a distance of over three hundred miles, and it took Wylis ten days to arrive at Moat Cailin with the rest of his men.
As it was turning dusk, they decided to make the ruined castle their home for the night. Besides, they had companions in the form of good men of the Night's Watch on their journey to take the fresh recruits up to the Wall.
While half a dozen thieves and rapists sat in the caged carriage, Wylis and his men camped around a large bonfire, cooking meat with the four men of the Night's Watch. They were too excited to meet Wylis, as the Tyrant of the Trident was a title that had spread even to the Wall. And there were plenty of men at the Wall who admired Wylis for rising from his lowly status to become a lord.
But Wylis wasn't interested in any of them. No, he was only focused on the fifth man who was supposed to join the Night's Watch, but he wasn't in chains or in a cage. The man was free to do whatever he wanted.
"Aye, Small Paul, m'lord? The poor lad's got no kin left. Don't let his size move ye, he's gentle as a lamb and simple in the head. No one could set him to work nor keep him fed. The Wall's the only place for him."
Wylis stared at the seventeen-year-old boy named Small Paul, a name that was ironic because he was anything but small. Rarely Wylis ever witnessed men that tall. Personally, he'd beaten his own historic height, gaining an inch more than seven feet, owing to his better diet and training. But this Small Paul was just a few inches shorter than him, perhaps six-eight or six-nine?
"I'll take him," Wylis said. He didn't care if the man was slow of wit. Put him in armor, and most men would think twice before trying anything foolish. "I'll train the lad, feed him well, turn him into a bear wearing a man's shape."
The four men of the Night's Watch looked at each other, frowning.
"M'lord, that…"
"Easy now, lads." Wylis pulled his coin pouch from his belt and shook out the silver stags, tossing one to each of them. "Let the boy have a look at the world before you wrap him in black and call him sworn. He has broken no law."
Wylis was a man they admired. But Wylis' reputation was what they feared. Behind that elegant, friendly smile, nobody could tell what was hidden.
"There's reason in it, m'lord, I can see."
"Aye."
The four men agreed. They had no other choice.
####
Ramsgate, the North,
It took fifteen more days to go from Moat Cailin to Ramsgate. They first had to reach White Harbor, where Wylis met Lord Manderly to ease any misunderstandings regarding his refusal to the betrothal. He still offered to foster his son with the Manderlys later, and if romance happened then, he wouldn't mind a betrothal.
After that was a smooth ride home, passing small patches of trees and wide plains, some grassy and some farmed. He stopped at a few villages on the way that fell under him, ensuring no treacherous village head had appeared. Seeing stewards like Brennard and the one who brought down Maidenpool, he feared having fools in his own backyard.
"Home, at last." He let out a tired breath when Ramsgate came into view. It was still small, underdeveloped, but the castle stood tall and mighty on the mesa. The smoke rising from houses and the castle's own chimneys made him feel warm already.
The last few miles of the way, they just galloped. All of them were tired, and most of them had families they wanted to see. Moreover, many of them were shaken by what they knew. Somehow, in some unknown way, their lord had brought down the bridge between the Twins. They knew it with certainty, they just couldn't prove it.
Chett, the man closest to their lord in terms of men-at-arms, just accepted it and moved on, advising other men to keep their mouths shut.
Truth be told, none of them wanted to talk about it. It was too bizarre and terrifying.
Wylis knew what was going on in their minds. It was easy to read their faces. But he couldn't care less. It was best that they saw him as a terrifying force, not as some giant, huggable fool. The latter was just for his women and children.
On the way, all the men went their separate ways except Chett, who lived in the guardhouse of the castle. Small Paul was there too, who'd live with Chett for now.
"Take the day, Chett. There's no work to be had. I'll be staying in the castle myself," Wylis told his page. "Eat well, drink a little, maybe find a pretty lady to walk the coast with."
Chett laughed and shook his head. "Finding a woman's harder than working. I'll sleep instead, m'lord."
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