"Since that is the case, this is a kind gesture. I will protect this fragile boy until he comes of age," Gendry promised. Not taking this little burden would be disrespectful, but he would certainly pledge to ensure his safety. "I hope we all advance and retreat together, not just for the Young Lord, but also for the future of the Vale. If anyone tries to harm the Vale or Lord Arryn's orphan, I don't mind a river of blood."
Gendry looked around at everyone, his words seemingly as heavy as a thousand pounds. Every Lord of the Vale pondered his words; it was both a promise and a warning.
"But my sister, Mya, why are you still making her transport supplies?" Gendry asked Baron Nestor.
"This…" Baron Nestor immediately denied. "This is not our doing. We should have treated the Princess well, but Lady Lysa—oh no, that foolish woman—refused us from listening to any external decrees, keeping us isolated. No one dared to obey the King's will."
"War will break out very soon, and after the war comes the Long Winter. When I am not here, I hope my sister will also be looked after," Gendry said.
"Miss Mia will be cared for as a Princess; the Vale never forgets," Ser Vardis also guaranteed.
Gendry felt this move was essential. Mya understood the situation in the Vale and would soon be his special envoy there.
"You avenge Lord Arryn, clear his name, and promise to protect the young Child. This is true chivalry. You are a true Knight, long live the storm!" Ser Vardis was the first to understand, placing his falcon sword at Gendry's feet and kneeling in submission.
"In that case, let us stir up another storm, just like a dozen years ago. Long live the heir, Gendry!" Ser Lyn drew lady forlorn and knelt beside Vardis.
The elderly Earl Hunter also understood, tremblingly putting down his longsword. "long live the storm!"
"long live the storm!" At this, the noble Lords of the Vale also moved, Nestor, Bronze Yohn, Morton, and so on.
Although the Hunter, Waynwood, and Corbray families had never met the Stag before, they all stood up, drew their swords, and knelt. The fundamental pillars of the Deer, Eagle, Fish, and Wolf had always been there; they just lacked someone to revitalize them.
"long live the storm!" "Long live the Stag and the eagle!" "Out of The Bloody Gate! Vengeance!" The proud Knights of the Vale bowed their heads. They had personally experienced Gendry's honor, bravery, and strategy. The light of a warrior could sweep across the Seven Kingdoms. Breaking Two Cities, slaying Khal, fighting the Kingslayer, saving Riverrun, attacking Harrenhal, defeating Ser Lyn, unraveling Littlefinger's conspiracy—only victory could bring more victories. At least in warfare, everyone was convinced by Gendry.
"Let the lion tremble at our gathering!" Gendry told everyone to rise.
Beside Gendry was a statue, carved from textured white marble, depicting a handsome warrior in battle. He had carved a crescent falcon on his shield and adorned his silver armor with a pair of falcon wings. It was Artys Arryn, the "Falcon Knight," founder of House Arryn.
"High as honor, high as victory, high as power. One must first achieve victory to protect honor." Gendry looked at the pale face of the statue of Artys Arryn. Artys won beautifully, while Lord Jon lost terribly. Artys valued honor greatly, but he valued victory even more; war is war. This is what the successive Arryns failed to see in their ancestor's face.
House Arryn's rise to power was a stealth attack and ambush, which was precisely dishonorable, but they were adaptable. In the decisive battle against the first men, Artys had one of his Knights wear his spare silver armor, then he led his elite Knights up a winding path he had known since childhood, ambushing the first men's army from behind, from a high vantage point. In the subsequent fighting, it was said that Artys killed King Robar Royce II. After the Battle of the Seven Stars, the first men never recovered, and the andals ruled the Vale.
"The Duke is awake."
The sleepy Young Lord, dressed in sky blue and cream, was brought to the garden by nervous squire. The Child was small, pale, with large, wet-looking eyes and brown hair.
"I am your great-uncle, Child, don't you recognize me?" The Blackfish forced a smile, looking at Sweet Robin.
"Great-uncle? My mother said you were a traitor, and you should fly," Robert asked, but no one listened to his words.
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