A smile appeared on Arthur's face, and he nodded. Robin Legge sighed and turned to leave.
Brynden's gaze inadvertently swept over the long table in front of Arthur, and then froze.
On the table was a huge parchment map.
He involuntarily walked slowly towards it, his eyes fixed on the map, each step filled with scrutiny.
On the map, blue ink outlined every tributary of the Trident River, and black lines marked every road, from the Kings Road to country lanes.
Castles, towns, and villages were marked with different symbols, and next to them were even tiny, dense characters, recording family sigils and approximate populations.
What made his heart beat faster was the areas marked with red and brown ink—that was the Westerlands, the territory of the Lannister Family.
The direction of the mountains, the extent of the forests, the distribution of minerals—its detail made even Riverrun's most prized map seem like a child's scribble.
Brynden pushed aside Arthur, who was standing in front of the map, and gently stroked the parchment with his fingers, as if it were the most precious treasure.
His voice held undisguised astonishment: "Where did you get this?"
Arthur showed no displeasure at being pushed aside and replied dismissively: "I bought it from a merchant. It cost quite a bit."
The map Evelyn drew was indeed very detailed; this one was already the worst, but it was still an extremely valuable map. That old man most likely had his eyes on it.
Brynden's eyes, however, seemed to be drawn by a magnet and could no longer move from the map. He leaned down, his finger slowly tracing the coastline from Seaguard to Lannisport.
He looked up, coughed lightly, and looked at Arthur, speaking: "Arthur, this map,"
"In the name of Riverrun, I request that you gift it to the House Tully."
"It is crucial for the Riverlands' defense against the Ironborn."
"Riverrun will reward you."
Arthur looked at him. This legendary Brynden, at this moment, was like a child who had seen a beloved toy, his face pressed tightly to the map, examining it carefully, afraid to miss a single detail.
He found it amusing in his heart, but on his lips, he merely curved them slightly. It was clear that he wanted it himself, yet insisted on invoking the banner of Riverrun. He neither agreed nor refused, simply picked up the wine cup on the table and took a shallow sip.
Brynden didn't seem to expect an immediate answer. His attention was drawn back to the map, or rather, he was troubled by a deeper question on the map, seemingly suddenly remembering that the young man before him had achieved a miraculous victory and did not adhere to the Westeros principle of 'all's fair in love and war'.
He stretched out his hand, full of wrinkles and calluses, and pointed to the Seaguard waters in the northeast corner of the map: "A not-insignificant Ironborn fleet is gathering."
Brynden looked up at Arthur, then back at the map.
"My brother, and all the courtiers of Riverrun, believe their target is Seaguard."
He shook his head, his finger tapping the location of Seaguard.
"But I don't think so."
He looked up at the young man before him, as if posing a question.
"What do you think?"
Arthur put down his wine cup and stood shoulder to shoulder with Brynden, pointing to the map. Balon Greyjoy could be called Westeros's 'war genius,' in a derogatory sense, of course, both now and in the future. Normal people couldn't understand his thought process, launching a rebellion during a stable period of the Seven Kingdoms,
and during the War of the Five Kings, not going to the Westerlands but running to the North.
"If the Ironborn's goal is merely plunder, they will attack Seaguard, but his war will fail."
"Leaving Seaguard aside, can the plunder from a large army gathering balance the cost?"
"If Balon Greyjoy wants a true victory, or to effectively remain isolated overseas, he absolutely will not do that."
Arthur's finger gently traced across the map, over the coastlines of the Riverlands and the Westerlands.
"Currently, there are three forces that can pose a fatal threat to the Iron Fleet at sea."
"The Royal Fleet, the Redwyne Family fleet of the Arbor, and the Lannister Family fleet of the Westerlands, which is close at Crystone."
"The Westerlands and the The Reach, I don't think they would be willing to commit all their assets to a direct naval confrontation with the Ironborn, but they will eventually answer the King's call, wait for the Royal Fleet to arrive, and then cooperate with the Royal Fleet in battle."
Arthur's finger suddenly moved south, finally landing heavily on Lannisport in the Westerlands.
Brynden's pupils suddenly contracted. This kid thought the same as him.
"So, if the Ironborn want to win this war, or at least gain an advantageous position,"
"They must weaken one of these forces before the Royal Fleet gathers."
Arthur's voice grew cold. Being remembered by Brynden would be a good thing.
"Feint at the Riverlands, but strike the Westerlands. Their true target is the Westerlands fleet."
"Surprise Lannisport, destroy the Westerlands fleet. This way, the kingdom's naval power in the western waters will be completely weakened."
"Only then can the Ironborn quickly become an unchallenged king of the seas, able to appear and disappear at will along the long coastline."
Brynden Tully slowly looked up. He looked at the young man before him, a hint of admiration in his eyes.
"You are very clever, Arthur."
"Extremely clever."
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