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Chapter 250: The Secret of Willas
🕑 Added 2025-04-05 14:45:36 +0000 UTCTime passed, and Lord Mace and the others gradually recovered from their initial shock.
“Why? Why would the Three-Eyed Crow want Willas as its successor?” Garth asked, his confusion evident.
“My guess is that this generation’s Three-Eyed Crow has reached the end of its lifespan,” Lynd said gravely. “No matter how powerful he is, his body is still that of an ordinary mortal. A hundred years is already pushing the limits of human longevity.”
Garlan suddenly speculated, “Then could it be that Willas volunteered to go to the Wall because he intends to become the Three-Eyed Crow’s successor?”
Lynd was momentarily stunned—he hadn’t considered that possibility before. But he quickly shook his head. “Impossible. Willas’s body has already been altered by the power of Garth Greenhand. The Three-Eyed Crow’s power could never take root in him now.”
Lord Mace refocused the discussion. “And what exactly is the story with Garth Greenhand?”
Lynd explained, “Years ago, when the Three-Eyed Crow sought to make Willas his successor, something unexpected happened. He inadvertently awakened the dormant bloodline of Willas’s ancestors—the bloodline of Garth Greenhand. That resonance stirred the power of Garth Greenhand, which had been lying dormant within the Three-Hearted Tree in Highgarden’s Godswood. That power then fused with Willas. So the Willas you’ve known all these years… was also Garth Greenhand.”
Even though they had already been stunned by the earlier revelations, Lord Mace and the others found themselves rendered speechless once more.
Ignoring their shocked expressions, Lynd continued, “Back then, the Three-Eyed Crow and Garth Greenhand fought over Willas’s body, which left him in a coma. During the struggle, the Three-Eyed Crow temporarily pulled Willas’s soul beyond the Wall. Though Garth Greenhand ultimately reclaimed his soul, it had already been wounded—by the White Walkers. More specifically, by their queen, who was most likely the wife of the infamous Night King, the former Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. Willas was struck in the lower back, and that injury wasn’t just physical—it was a wound to his soul. That’s why he’s paralyzed.”
Lynd paused to let the gravity of his words settle.
After a long silence, Lord Mace finally asked, “And how does all of this relate to him joining the Night’s Watch?”
“I saw the White Walkers’ leader commanding an army of wights beyond the Wall, but that was only a fraction of their forces. Willas, on the other hand, is the only person alive who has actually been to their city in the Land of Always Winter and seen their entire civilization. He understands their threat better than anyone. That’s why he’s been working tirelessly to strengthen the Night’s Watch and establish defensive lines along the Blackwater Rush. Because if the White Walkers break through the Wall, the North, the Riverlands, the Vale, and even the Westerlands will fall quickly. The only region in the South that could hold out, even temporarily, is the Reach, thanks to its many rivers, like the Blackwater.”
“You knew all of this,” Lord Mace said slowly, his gaze sharpening as he pieced it together. “That’s why you unified the Stepstones. That’s why you’ve pointed your sword at the Disputed Lands. You’re preparing for the worst-case scenario—so that when the time comes, you can retreat across the Narrow Sea.”
Though Lord Mace was far from the most brilliant strategist, he had ruled as Lord for long enough to possess political insight. He was quick to connect the dots.
Lynd simply chuckled at Mace’s accusation and said nothing.
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Mace asked, his tone carrying a trace of resentment.
Lynd countered with a question of his own. “Tell me, my lord—if Willas and I had come to you with this before, would you have believed us?”
“I…” Lord Mace opened his mouth to say yes, but he knew the truth. He would have dismissed it as mad ramblings.
Garth spoke next. “The Three-Eyed Crow’s time is running out, which means the most significant force holding back the White Walkers will soon disappear. If that happens, they’ll march straight for the Wall. Is Willas planning to replace the Three-Eyed Crow and go beyond the Wall to stop them?”
Lynd shook his head. “Unlikely. The Three-Eyed Crow’s ability to hold back the White Walkers is due to his unique power. Willas’s power comes from Garth Greenhand—he cannot replace the Three-Eyed Crow.”
“I think Willas might have plans for the Wall itself,” Garlan interjected. “I once saw him studying the patterns he had copied from the Horn of Winter. He told me they were related to the Wall, but he never gave me the details. Looking back, I think he had a plan.”
Lynd nodded in agreement. He, too, believed Willas’s true focus was on the Wall.
“If Willas has gone to the Wall, what about Garth Greenhand?” Unlike Lord Mace and Garlan, who were more concerned about Willas himself, Garth, as Highgarden’s steward, was thinking of its interests.
For years, rumors had persisted that Highgarden’s fertile lands and bountiful harvests were the result of Garth Greenhand’s blessings. Garth had never paid those tales much heed before, but now he realized they might be true. And if Willas, the vessel of Garth Greenhand, had left for the Wall… would Garth Greenhand’s power leave Highgarden too? Would it affect their lands?
As Garth voiced his concerns, Lord Mace and Garlan suddenly grasped the gravity of the issue, their expressions darkening.
“Willas has already prepared for that,” Lynd said, his eyes drifting toward the spot where Margaery had departed earlier. “He has arranged for another vessel.”
The room fell silent.
Then, as realization dawned on them, they all spoke in unison. “Margaery?”
Lynd nodded.
“Does Margaery know about this?” Garlan asked in a low voice.
“I don’t think she does,” Lynd shook his head. “As I said, Willas found a vessel, not an incarnation. Margaery has the power of Garth Greenhand within her, but she can't wield it as Willas did. She’s merely a container for that power.”
“Why Margaery? Why not Garlan or Loras?” Garth asked, puzzled.
“I don’t know,” Lynd admitted. “Maybe there’s something unique about Lady Margaery—just as Willas’s bloodline made him a suitable vessel for Garth Greenhand’s power.” He then looked at Lord Mace and added, “My lord, there’s no need to worry too much. The power of Garth Greenhand comes from the Three-Hearted Tree. That tree is the true source of it all. As long as it remains, Highgarden’s prosperity won’t change significantly.”
Lord Mace and the others nodded slightly in acknowledgment, but their expressions showed they weren’t entirely convinced.
...
After explaining Willas’s situation, Lynd didn’t linger in Highgarden. After bidding farewell to Lord Mace, he and Garlan made their way to the gardens, where they retrieved Augustus—who was thoroughly enjoying being the center of attention among a group of girls—and then returned to Goldenrose Courtyard outside the castle.
On the way back, Garlan suddenly asked, “Lynd, do you really believe that Willas placed Garth Greenhand’s power into Margaery? Or… is there another reason?”
Lynd glanced at him and said, “Lord Garlan, what you really want to ask is whether I said this to deliberately disrupt the marriage alliance between Highgarden and the Iron Throne, isn’t it?”
Garlan hesitated, looking somewhat embarrassed, but eventually nodded.
Lynd then asked, “Do you think I still need to prevent the marriage between Highgarden and the Iron Throne at this point?”
Garlan was silent for a moment, then shook his head.
Lynd simply smiled and said nothing more.
...
That same night, as Lynd returned from meeting the Lord of Highgarden, a knight in resplendent armor arrived at Goldenrose Courtyard.
“Ser Jaime, long time no see!” Lynd greeted the knight, who had been led in by the Sisters of Redemption. He casually tossed a slab of beef into the air. A group of young wyverns flapped their still-developing wings, each snapping up a piece of meat and tearing it apart.
“Seven hells! What are these? Dragon hatchlings?” Jaime Lannister exclaimed in shock as he watched the creatures feed.
“These are wyvern hatchlings,” Lynd replied, taking a cloth to wipe the blood from his hands. “In the book Dragons, Wyrms, and Wyverns: Their Unnatural History by Septon Barth, he theorized that the dragons of today were created by Valyrian blood mages using wyverns. But I believe his research was flawed. First, Valyrian blood sorcery isn’t as powerful as he imagined—it’s incapable of transforming one species into another, let alone turning an ordinary creature into a magical one. Second, while wyverns resemble dragons in some ways, their biological structures are fundamentally different. The clearest distinction is in their knees—dragons’ knees bend forward, like a dog’s, while wyverns’ bend backward, like a chicken’s.”
“Wyverns?” Jaime stepped closer to one of the hatchlings, reaching out to touch it. But the young wyvern, already ferocious despite its small size, snapped at his arm with lightning speed. Fortunately, his armor protected him, but the deep bite marks on the metal made it clear—if he hadn’t been armored, the bite would have shredded his skin and possibly fractured bone.
“What a vicious little beast!” Jaime exclaimed, stepping back warily. He glanced down at the marks on his armor, then looked up to see the Chosen One effortlessly commanding the wyverns—having them bite, sit, and even return to their cages on command. His expression darkened slightly. “You’re training them?”
Lynd knew there was no point in trying to conceal the truth, so he simply nodded. “Yes, I am taming wyverns. Once they’re fully grown, they’ll form the first generation of wyvern riders in Summerhall. While wyverns aren’t nearly as powerful as dragons, they can still serve a significant role in warfare.”
Jaime took in the sight of a dozen young wyverns and the Chosen Ones training them. He let out a slow breath and said, “Lynd Tarran… you are a truly terrifying man.”
Lynd turned to look at him. “You didn’t come all this way just to tell me that, did you?”
Jaime’s expression grew serious. “No. His Grace, the King, wants to see you.”
Lynd paused for a moment, considering, then nodded. “Wait here.”
He returned to his chambers, changed into fresh clothes, and instructed the others to remain behind. Then, alone, he left Goldenrose Courtyard with Jaime.
“This doesn’t seem like the road to Highgarden,” Lynd observed as he followed Jaime.
“This leads to one of the outlying towns outside Highgarden,” Jaime replied. “Our king is currently enjoying himself at the town’s largest brothel—Melis’s Spring.” He spoke of Robert Baratheon with barely concealed disdain, then seemed to remember something and added, “Oh, right. Your guide, Joel Flowers—his fiancée, Lady Melis, happens to be the owner of that brothel. Their wedding is tomorrow, though no important figures will be attending. What about you? Will you be there?”
Lynd answered without hesitation, “Attending Lord Joel’s wedding is one of the reasons I came to Highgarden.”
“As I suspected. You were always going to attend,” Jaime said with a nod before adding, with a hint of envy, “I’ve heard all about your exploits in Essos. At first, I thought they were just exaggerated tales spun by bards, but when I saw the ships from Qohor arriving, loaded with prisoners and confiscated wealth, I knew the stories were real. The God of Natural Disasters, the God of Magic—along with the Storm God and the Chosen of the Seven. For a moment, I almost thought you were the embodiment of the Many-Faced God.”
Hearing Jaime’s words, Lynd was briefly taken aback, then chuckled but said nothing.
Jaime continued, “You once told my uncle Kevan that you wanted to invite Tyrion to work for you in Summerhall. Uncle Kevan passed the message along, and while Tyrion didn’t say much at the time, I know he regretted turning it down. With his talents, if he had joined you, he could have easily become the governor of the Stepstones.”
“You’re right. He certainly has the ability to govern a territory,” Lynd agreed with a nod. “But unfortunately, he’s Tyrion Lannister—the lawful heir of House Lannister and the future Lord of Casterly Rock. Unless you take off that white cloak, he’ll never be able to leave Casterly Rock.”
Jaime’s expression darkened slightly. He glanced at Lynd and asked, “You think I’m the one holding my brother back?”
“No,” Lynd shook his head. “It’s not just you. It’s also Lord Tywin. Both of you focus too much on his stature. Your protectiveness and your father’s cold indifference—both are harming him.”
Jaime frowned. “You think my care for him is hurting him?” he asked, clearly displeased.
Lynd met his gaze. “All he wants is to be treated like everyone else. But your care only reminds him that you see him as different. That you see his size as something that needs compensating for.”
Jaime fell silent for a long moment before muttering, “It’s not just me. It’s society as a whole. Even if I change my mindset, I can’t change the way the world sees him.”
“But have you even tried to change your own?” Lynd countered.
Jaime had no answer. He remained silent for the rest of the journey, not speaking again until they reached the outskirts of Highgarden.
