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Chapter 166: Defecting to the Chosen
🕑 Added 2025-02-22 12:38:03 +0000 UTCAs usual, Masha Heddle, the innkeeper at the crossroads, wiped down the tables, arranged the freshly baked pastries in the display window behind her, and instructed the servant to feed the guests' horses.
"Leaving so early, Ser Tarbeck? The morning mist is still heavy—this is no time to travel."
Seeing a man dressed like a knight coming down the stairs, Masha spat out a piece of chewed tobacco, took another from her pocket, tossed it into her mouth, and chewed twice. Her blood-red teeth gleamed as she flashed a creepy smile.
"Are you leaving so early, Ser Tarbeck?" she asked again.
Though a regular at the inn, Ser Tarbeck still found Masha’s appearance unsettling. He ignored her question, tossed two silver stags onto the table, and walked out without a word.
Masha was used to such reactions from guests—exactly the effect she intended. Pay up, keep out of trouble, no hassle. With practiced ease, she crumpled the silver coins into her pocket, then shouted at the servant who had just finished feeding the horses to bring the boots and clothes that had been cleaned of sludge the night before to the guest room upstairs.
Lately, more and more knights had been traveling the Kingsroad, the River Road, and the Highroad of the Mountains of the Moon. Some headed south to King's Landing, eager to witness the legendary wights, while others, after seeing them, chose to journey north to join the Night's Watch.
Masha, too, was tempted to go to King's Landing to see the wights, but the thought of missing out on a fortune kept her firmly rooted at her inn.
Hers was the last decent inn on the north side of the Kingsroad. Beyond this point, all the way to the Wall, there was no proper lodging. Travelers heading north either sought shelter in a roadside farmer’s home or endured the miserable accommodations of tiny, run-down country inns.
And so, those knights who made the impulsive decision to take the black and journey to the Wall would always end up staying at her inn, spending whatever coin they had left. To capitalize on this, she had even hired a few prostitutes to reside at the inn, ensuring a steady profit from their services.
As time passed, the knights who had been sleeping upstairs trickled down one after another. Masha immediately instructed the servants to bring out the food freshly prepared in the kitchen. When the knights departed, she had the pastries from the cupboard cut up and handed out for the journey. She was certain that anyone who had tasted her pastries would return as a loyal customer.
This busy period continued until noon, by which time all the rooms in the inn were empty. Only a dozen knights and their attendants lingered downstairs, merely stopping to rest before continuing on their way.
The servants and prostitutes each chose a few rooms to clean—not out of diligence, but because careless knights often left valuables behind, allowing the cleaners to pocket a little extra profit.
Masha spat out her tobacco and replaced it with a fresh piece, then meticulously tallied her recent earnings in her account book. She debated whether to renovate the inn—its interior hadn't been redone in decades—or reinforce the wooden stakes beneath the building, as some guests had complained that the structure shook when they slept.
"Or perhaps I should just build another inn beside it," she mused.
A sudden burst of shouting yanked her from her thoughts.
The knights who had been lounging in the hall were now split into two groups, glaring at each other with swords nearly drawn.
When she had first taken over the inn, Masha had studied the noble crests carefully, knowing it was crucial to recognize the allegiances of her guests to avoid offending the wrong people. Though that had been years ago, she still remembered enough to identify the two opposing factions.
From their crests, it was clear—the men facing off belonged to House Frey of the Twins and House Rowan of the Reach.
Some knights, still holding prostitutes in their arms, watched the growing tension with amusement. A few even shoved their tables aside to clear space, as if preparing for the inevitable fight to come.
"My lords, please, don't fight in the inn. You can go outside—there’s plenty of room."
Masha skillfully retreated behind the counter, poking half her head out as she pleaded with the knights, though she knew her words would be useless.
"Shut up, Weasel of House Frey! How dare you claim to have fought alongside Lord Lynd! To utter Lord Lynd's name with your filthy mouths is the greatest blasphemy against him!"
Several young and well-groomed knights from House Rowan lashed out angrily at the Freys, their contempt clear.
The Freys' faces twisted with rage at the insult. One of them shouted back, "Am I wrong? During the rebellion in the Iron Islands, Lord Stevron led the army of the Twins and fought alongside Lord Lynd Tarran! He even helped Lord Lynd capture Banefort and The Crag. And what about House Rowan? You were nothing but stragglers following the Iron Throne’s forces, picking at the scraps. House Rowan’s name wasn’t even mentioned at the victory celebration in Lannisport!"
"How dare you insult House Rowan like that!"
The Rowan knight could no longer hold back. Enraged, he finally drew his sword.
"Kill him! Kill these Weasels!"
The hatred toward House Frey ran deep—no one liked them in the Riverlands. The moment the Rowan knight unsheathed his sword, someone eagerly incited further chaos.
"No, no one should die here!"
Masha’s voice rang out from behind the counter—not out of fear of death, but because cleaning up bloodstains from a dead body was a tedious and thankless task.
Several Freys had already drawn their swords, their blades pointed at their adversaries. A fight was about to erupt.
But then, one of the knights watching the scene suddenly tensed. He motioned for the prostitutes who had been shrieking in excitement to quiet down, then listened carefully.
"Quiet, all of you. Listen."
This knight seemed to command some respect, for as soon as he spoke, the raucous knights and their attendants fell silent. Even the two groups on the verge of clashing froze.
A deep, rhythmic noise rumbled from outside, as if something massive was repeatedly striking the ground. Then, they noticed the drinks on the tables trembling slightly, the wooden floor beneath them vibrating in tandem.
The knight who had first sensed the disturbance immediately shoved the prostitute off his lap, sprang to his feet, and dashed outside. The others wasted no time in following. Within moments, the once-crowded inn hall stood empty.
Masha, momentarily stunned by the sudden shift, struggled to grasp what was happening. But she could feel the house shaking—as if it might collapse at any moment. Instinct kicked in. Without hesitation, she stuffed her money pouch under her clothes and bolted from the inn, with the servants and prostitutes trailing closely behind.
Outside, they found the noble knights who had rushed out moments before standing frozen on the roadside, their eyes locked northward along the Kingsroad.
Curiosity drew them forward. As they stepped past the threshold and turned their gaze north, they, too, were struck motionless, just like the knights. Some of the weaker-willed prostitutes let out terrified screams before fainting.
On the Kingsroad, a procession of giants, each towering as high as the inn itself, marched toward them. They wore massive garments of animal hides and wielded entire tree trunks as weapons. With every step, they slammed the ground with their makeshift clubs, sending deep tremors rippling through the earth—the very source of the previous rumbling.
"Giants! These are the giants that Lord Lynd subdued Beyond the Wall!"
Someone in the gathering recognized them at once. Their gaze then shifted toward the knight leading the procession—a figure impossible to mistake.
He sat astride a massive warhorse, clad in exquisitely crafted armor, with two large swords strapped at his waist. A giant beast followed in his wake, adding to his unmistakable presence.
As Lynd and his towering entourage drew closer, the knights quickly adjusted their clothes, standing tall and composed, their expressions turning solemn.
"Lord Lynd, I am Beoth Rowan of House Rowan."
"Lord Lynd, I am Lyonel Frey of House Frey."
"Lord Lynd, I am Tygott Marbrand of House Marbrand."
One after another, they bowed as Lynd passed, each announcing their name and allegiance in a clamor of overlapping voices. The once-orderly gathering had devolved into a chaotic jumble of introductions.
Lynd, evidently accustomed to such receptions, did not dismount. Seated firmly on his horse, he nodded in acknowledgment but did not stop, continuing his advance past the assembled knights.
The knights did not feel slighted. On the contrary, they believed that Lynd had already shown them the utmost respect by bowing to them. Overcome with emotion, their fear faded, leaving only awe as they watched the giants pass before their eyes.
However, as the procession moved past them, they noticed that hundreds of knights and their squires followed behind the giants. The crests on their armor made it clear that they came from various noble houses, many of whom had left the inn that very morning, intending to journey north and take the black at The Wall.
Some among them were quick to realize that instead of committing themselves to the rigid vows of the Night’s Watch, they could join Lynd’s army instead—an opportunity to make a name for themselves without the constraints and lifelong oaths that came with the Watch. The thought was tempting. One by one, several knights who had initially set out for The Wall reconsidered their decision and joined the procession, while only a few remained steadfast in their original path.
Lynd was well aware of the thoughts running through the minds of the knights following him. Apart from a handful of mercenary knights, most of them were second, third, or even bastard sons of noble houses—men with no claim to inheritance and little opportunity within their own families. Though they had their shortcomings, particularly their lack of unwavering willpower, Lynd knew he needed them. Their education and skills far surpassed those of mere mercenaries and wandering swordsmen.
Over the past year or two, as Lynd’s reputation had grown and he had become one of the most legendary figures in the Seven Kingdoms, he had noticed a peculiar trend—despite his fame, few noble-born knights actively sought him out. The vast majority of those who came to him were hedge knights and wandering warriors.
While such men were useful in battle, they were far less suited for governance.
Knights with administrative ability, such as Bryn Rivers and Wyeth Rowan, had already been relegated to local positions by Lynd. Yet even with those appointments, there were still numerous vacancies, forcing some individuals to take on multiple roles to keep things running.
In the short term, this system worked. But in the long run, it was inefficient. Overburdening individuals with too many responsibilities not only reduced their effectiveness but also concentrated power in their hands, which could lead to serious complications.
This was why Lynd had been actively seeking ways to fill these positions.
At one point, he had even considered recruiting Maesters from the Citadel to serve as department heads. However, the idea had been met with immediate and fierce opposition. Nymeria had outright rejected the plan, and even Malora—who rarely agreed with Nymeria on anything—declared it to be the most foolish idea she had ever heard.
For the first time, the two of them had been in complete agreement.
Their reasoning was simple: placing Maesters in governing positions would fundamentally disrupt the power structure of the Seven Kingdoms. Maesters were meant to serve as advisors, not rulers. Granting them direct authority would be seen as a direct challenge to the nobility—a violation of the most sacred balance of power in Westeros.
Even if there were Maesters willing to accept such appointments, it would bring Lynd nothing but trouble. The noble houses would reject him outright, and even those who had already allied with him—Grassy Vale, Blackhaven, and Wyl—would be forced to distance themselves. In the eyes of the lords, Lynd would not just be asserting his own rule; he would be undermining the very foundation of noble power in Westeros.
Understanding this, Lynd had already made a decision before setting out for The Wall. Upon his return, he would send messengers across the castles of the Seven Kingdoms and even the Free Cities across the Narrow Sea, posting recruitment notices for skilled knights and noblemen. He knew that actively seeking out talent would always be more effective than waiting for capable men to come to him.
However, it seemed that such measures might no longer be necessary.
This journey Beyond the Wall had transformed him into a living legend—an equal to the mythical heroes of old. It was now inevitable that a wave of true knights would flock to him of their own accord, seeking to serve under his banner. The growing ranks following him back to Summerhall were proof of this.
As Lynd’s army of giants and knights crossed the Trident River, he encountered even more knights along the way. Word had spread, and men from across the land gathered, drawn by the sheer scale of his legend. Despite the fact that Lynd never once called for them to join his cause, most of these knights chose to follow him south.
By the time Lynd reached King’s Landing, the number of knights trailing behind him had swelled to over five hundred. Including their squires, his procession had grown to nearly a thousand—a force that, at a glance, looked less like a wandering company and more like a formidable army.
Comments
Caio Henrique Rocha
Kinda, any recommendations?
Ainz
Have u been looking what the next book will be after this one
Caio Henrique Rocha
I wish, KH has too many words for chapter 😭, almost 2.5k for each chapter. Thank god the whole novel it's just 420 chapters.
Ainz
We can only wish. But a nice stable two is much appreciated.
Jobe Destine
Can we have three or four chapters every day
