BlurryDream
patreon
Chapter 140: The Wildling King’s Plan
🕑 Added 2025-02-10 13:02:08 +0000 UTCUpon hearing the Wildling King Hamir’s exaggerated words, Lynd and Nymeria remained remarkably calm, as if what he had just said were nothing more than trivial matters of daily life.
Hamir was taken aback by their reaction. He had expected at least some degree of surprise or interest, but their indifference unsettled him. A hint of worry flickered across his face, though it remained well concealed beneath the thick hair covering his features.
Lynd, however, was still somewhat curious, even though he did not believe a single word of what Hamir had just claimed. “Wildling King Hamir, how exactly do you plan to give me Wyl Castle?” he asked.
Hamir paused for a moment, considering his response. Then he said, “The Lord of Wyl, Wyland Wyl, has no heir. Once he dies, the castle and lands of Wyl will be inherited by a branch of House Wyl. But what if Wyland Wyl had a daughter? According to the inheritance laws of Dorne, a daughter can inherit the territory as well. That daughter would then become the Lady of Wyl.”
Lynd frowned slightly. “And what does that have to do with me?” he asked.
The Wildling King hesitated briefly before suggesting, “You can marry this—”
Before he could finish his sentence, Lynd raised his hand, cutting him off. Without a second thought, he pointed to Nymeria, who stood beside him, and said, “If I am going to marry a wife in the future, she is the only choice.”
Hamir froze. His gaze shifted to Nymeria, who remained expressionless, offering him no indication of her thoughts. For a moment, he did not know how to proceed.
This was not the response he had expected. In his mind, once he laid out the suggestion, Lynd would surely be tempted by the prospect of gaining control over a powerful castle and its surrounding lands. He had planned to use that agreement as leverage to present his true purpose. Yet his plan had collapsed before he could even reveal it.
And now, with no backup strategy prepared, he found himself at a loss.
Nymeria broke the silence, her voice calm and steady. “Your plan is to have Lynd marry Wyland Wyl’s daughter after Wyland Wyl’s death, then control Wyl indirectly by controlling that woman,” she said, her eyes locked onto Hamir. “But everyone knows Wyland Wyl has no descendants. How exactly do you intend to prove this so-called daughter’s identity?”
Hamir hesitated. For the first time, he seemed to sense that his plan was on the verge of failure. He looked uncertain, reluctant to continue.
Nymeria seemed to read his thoughts. “You can keep trying to convince us,” she said, her tone neutral. “Who knows? Maybe we will find your plan interesting after all.”
Hamir considered this for a moment. She had a point—if he gave up now, he would have nothing. Taking a breath, he explained, though doubt had crept into his voice. “Wyland Wyl had many enemies and feared that his heir would be assassinated. So when his daughter was born, he secretly sent her to a trusted friend in Yronwood to be raised as his foster daughter. At the same time, he left behind all the necessary documents proving her identity. Right now, I have both the girl and the proof. As long as someone legally marries her and waits for Wyland Wyl’s death, they can rightfully inherit Wyl Castle and its title.”
Nymeria listened, then gave a light clap, as if in approval. But there was something off about it—her words sounded more like mockery than genuine praise. “Not a bad idea. For the leader of a Wildling tribe, this is actually quite impressive,” she remarked. Then her tone grew sharper. “But you’re treating the inheritance of a noble house far too lightly. Inheritance isn’t as simple as replacing the leader of a Wildling tribe. That woman’s supposed status may give her the right to claim Wyl, but that doesn’t mean she will actually inherit it. Are you absolutely certain that the proof you possess is flawless? That there are no loopholes? Because if even the slightest flaw is found, those documents will be declared forgeries, and the woman you control will be accused of being an impostor. And we all know what happens to impostors—they don’t get titles. They get the guillotine.”
Of everyone in the tent, Nymeria was the most qualified to speak on the difficulty of inheriting a noble title. When she had inherited her mother’s lands, she had faced countless challenges and opposition. Even with the support of the Kingsguard—including Prince Lewyn Martell, Arthur Dayne, Barristan Selmy, and the White Bull, Gerold Hightower—she had barely managed to secure her inheritance.
In Dorne, women had equal rights to inherit, but noble blood alone was never enough. Without the backing of the local nobility, securing a title or a castle was nearly impossible, even with an undisputed claim.
And beyond all of that—even if Lynd were to marry the girl, why would the powerful lords of the Dornish Marches, led by the Yronwoods, ever allow a Reachman to interfere in Dornish affairs? The very idea was absurd.
Hamir said nothing. He had no counterargument. Even though his thick fur obscured his face, his confusion and disappointment were unmistakable.
It was no surprise. Anyone would feel the same after realizing that a carefully planned scheme—one they had thought through for so long—was, in the end, full of holes and utterly useless.
“Your plan wasn't bad,” Lynd said, unexpectedly praising the very plan he had just dismissed, while the Wildling King pondered his next move.
This left the Wildling King puzzled, and Nymeria cast a surprised glance at Lynd.
Lynd explained, “It's just that your plan needs a slight modification. It won’t be me marrying Wyland Wyl’s daughter, but someone else—someone from Dorne.”
The Wildling King’s eyes reflected his confusion, clearly struggling to grasp the significance of Lynd’s adjustment and how it differed from his original plan.
In contrast, Nymeria wore a thoughtful expression, as if she understood what Lynd meant.
Lynd continued, “How old is this woman? What proof exists to confirm her identity?”
“She’s already twenty,” the Wildling King answered hurriedly, sensing an opportunity to salvage his plan. He then proceeded to list the various pieces of evidence he possessed to verify the woman’s identity.
Among these were an oath book from a priest, a series of letters exchanged between Wyland Wyl and the man who had adopted his daughter over the past decade, and an official identity document signed by a Maester.
Even setting aside the other evidence, the document from the Maester alone was enough to authenticate her identity. Such records were typically drafted by a family’s Maester upon the birth of a noble child, detailing distinctive birthmarks on various parts of the infant’s body. These documents were always made in duplicate, with one copy sent to the Citadel for archival purposes. In the event of a dispute over a person’s identity, this record could serve as irrefutable proof.
As long as the birthmarks on the woman’s body matched those described in the document, her identity would be beyond question.
After hearing the Wildling King’s explanation, Nymeria nodded, acknowledging that the evidence was indeed thorough and convincing.
Lynd, however, still had doubts. “Does Wyland Wyl not know that his daughter has fallen into your hands?”
“No, he doesn’t,” the Wildling King replied solemnly. “He believes his daughter is dead.”
Lynd and Nymeria exchanged a glance at this revelation. Then Lynd asked sharply, “Wildling King Hamir, you sought me out and told me about this plan, giving me the opportunity to take control of Wyl. What’s your real goal? Is it simply to kill Wyland Wyl?”
“You… how did you know?” The Wildling King stared at Lynd in surprise.
“It’s simple. The success of your plan depends entirely on Wyland Wyl’s death,” Nymeria answered in Lynd’s place. Then, with curiosity, she added, “There’s a rumor that you’re Wyland Wyl’s bastard son, that he secretly supported your rise to power as the Wildling King. If that’s true, you should be grateful to him. So why do you want him dead?”
At this question, the Wildling King fell silent for a long time. Then, hatred flaring in his eyes, he finally said, “He killed my mother. Had the Skinners of the North flay her and turn her skin into a coat.”
Nymeria’s expression darkened instantly. Even without the Wildling King’s vendetta, she had already sentenced the Lord of Wyl to death in her heart.
Lynd frowned, his suspicion deepening. “If you hate Wyland Wyl so much, why not take revenge yourself? You command at least two thousand Wildlings. That may not be enough to besiege Castle Wyl, but it should be more than sufficient to ambush him. And judging by the fact that he still supports you, he clearly doesn’t suspect your hatred. Why not seize an opportunity to strike him down yourself?”
The Wildling King answered seriously, “Wyland Wyl may not be aware of my hatred, but I’m not his only enemy. He’s always been extremely cautious, rarely leaving his castle. And when he does, he’s heavily guarded. He would never take the risk of traveling north of the Wyl River. Besides, my people are based in Red Watch. If I were to move south, the sentries in Blackhaven and Castle Wyl would immediately be alerted, making any surprise attack impossible.”
Lynd listened carefully, his gaze sharpening as he studied the Wildling King. He was lying.
If he had managed to lead over two hundred Wildling warriors to the Wyl River unnoticed, he clearly knew a route that bypassed the Blackhaven watchtower. That meant transporting a larger force here should not be an issue, and even crossing the river—an even simpler task—posed little risk of detection.
When someone deliberately lies, many of their actions begin to seem suspicious. The slight ease Lynd had felt moments ago vanished, his wariness returning in full force. He quickly identified several inconsistencies in the Wildling King’s words, reinforcing his doubts about the man’s true intentions.
“You are seeking me out now and offering such generous terms. How exactly do you want me to help you take revenge?” Lynd asked while consolidating the suspicions he had gathered about the Wildling King in his mind.
The Wildling King answered seriously, “In a few days, a batch of supplies will be delivered to me at Wyl Castle. Wyland Wyl will be there in person, but I won’t be able to bring many men with me, and our weapons will be confiscated once we get close to the delivery site. There’s no way for me to act under those conditions. All you need to do, Lord, is to take your men and ambush them in advance, contain Wyland Wyl’s guards positioned on the perimeter, and create chaos.”
“Where is this delivery location?” Lynd asked.
“In a small valley near Wyl Castle.” The Wildling King avoided giving an exact location, perhaps fearing that Lynd might misunderstand. To preempt any doubts, he quickly added, “The valley is very remote, making it difficult to pinpoint its precise location. I will send a guide to take you there.”
Nymeria, still skeptical, asked, “Didn’t you just say that Wyland Wyl wouldn’t take risks easily? Why would he leave Wyl Castle personally to meet with you this time?”
The Wildling King explained, “That’s because of your arrival, Lord Lynd. You’ve disrupted his plan to take control of the area north of the Wyl River. Now, he needs to make new arrangements with me. These matters are difficult to discuss through ravens—there’s always a risk of leaving evidence behind—so he has decided to meet with me in person to instruct me on what to do next.”
After hearing the Wildling King’s explanation, Lynd remained silent. He didn’t ask any further questions but closed his eyes and contemplated.
A flicker of nervousness appeared in the Wildling King's eyes, like a prisoner awaiting judgment.
After a while, Lynd opened his eyes and said, “I agree to cooperate with you. Our partnership will officially begin when you hand over Wyland Wyl’s daughter and the documents proving her identity.”
The Wildling King frowned. “I can only give you Wyland Wyl’s daughter and the documents afterward. What if you change your mind after I hand them over now?”
Lynd dismissed the concern without hesitation. “Just as you don’t trust me, I don’t trust you either. So far, Wyland Wyl’s daughter and these documents are merely claims you’ve made—I haven’t seen any proof of their existence or authenticity. Do you think, under these circumstances, anyone would risk attacking a Lord of Dorne with you?”
The Wildling King opened his mouth but found no argument to counter Lynd’s reasoning. After a moment’s thought, he suggested, “Then we should sign an oath…”
“No way,” Lynd interrupted, shaking his head. “How could there be any written record of plotting to attack a Lord of Dorne? Do you expect me to leave something that could be used to threaten me one day?” His tone turned grave. “I am a chosen one of the Seven Gods, recognized by the Faith of the Seven. I will swear an oath in the name of the Seven to help you deal with Wyland Wyl. If you can’t even trust that kind of oath, then there’s no point in us cooperating.”
The Wildling King fell silent for a moment before nodding. “Fine. I believe in your oath. I will send someone to bring the woman and the documents tomorrow. When that time comes, you must swear in the name of the Seven Gods to help me take my revenge.”
With that, he turned to leave.
“Wait, we’re not finished yet,” Lynd called after him. “Wyland Wyl’s daughter alone isn’t enough for me to help you—you must also pay another price.”
“Greedy outsider,” the Wildling King muttered under his breath before looking at Lynd with a deep gaze. “What else do you want?”
Lynd’s voice lowered. “After I help you take revenge, you must bring your people under my command and assist my army in eliminating the other wildling tribes.”
The Wildling King remained silent for a moment before asking cautiously, “Which tribes are you referring to? The alliance of tribes that has appeared recently…”
Lynd cut him off. “You were about to ask if the alliance of tribes opposing you is under my protection, weren’t you?”
The Wildling King said nothing, simply watching Lynd intently.
Lynd, unbothered by the scrutiny, admitted openly, “Yes, they are my people. Not long ago, they came to Summerhall seeking my protection. I provided them with weapons and food and instructed them to form an alliance to help me clear the wildling tribes in my territory. I expect that after our cooperation, you too should transition from being my enemy to my ally.”
The Wildling King’s expression darkened momentarily, but he quickly masked his emotions. After a brief pause, he nodded. “Fine. As long as you help me take my revenge, I will agree to your request and assist you in clearing all the wildling tribes in your territory.”
