Late-Night Secret Meeting

"Black Falcon wore a coat of brigandine, with the chest covered by a large iron plate two millimeters thick—roughly equivalent to an ordinary wrought-iron breastplate. This steel bolt pierced through both layers of defense in front of Black Falcon's chest and entered his heart. That would require over two hundred joules of energy—something only a military crossbow firing an armor-piercing bolt at close range could achieve.

His leg was also struck by a bolt. It passed through the outer side of his right thigh, where he had no protection.

There are large bloodstains at the doorway, followed by drag marks leading all the way to Black Falcon's body. This indicates that Black Falcon was attacked the instant he pushed open the door."

Ian stood at the doorway and reenacted the motion of opening the door.

"Judging from the angle at which the bolts entered the body, the two attackers were likely positioned with one directly facing the door and the other crouching in that corner by the wall. Both held military crossbows and waited for Black Falcon to push open the room's door."

Lifting the corpse's eyelids, Ian examined the body further.

The pupils had already become slightly cloudy, the livor mortis on his back had begun to merge, and the body was completely stiff. The victim had been dead for more than six hours.

"The time of death was probably between Ghost Hour and Wolf Hour." After finishing his examination, Ian looked at Black Falcon's Adopted Son, Dorian.

"The likely sequence was this: sometime around midnight yesterday, Black Falcon came alone, fully armed, to the room of this suspected Grafton family knight. The moment he opened the door, he was immediately ambushed. He did not even have time to cry out before he died. Afterward, that knight and his squire dragged Black Falcon's corpse from the doorway into the room, shut the door, and fled during the night.

"What puzzles me is this: Black Falcon brought ten of you to this inn, so why did he insist on meeting the other man alone in the middle of the night?

"And if they had arranged a private meeting, why did they not exchange a single word? The scene makes it very clear. The killer had no intention of speaking with him. From the beginning, he had come for Black Falcon's life.

"Black Falcon was attacked the instant he opened the door. What kind of blood feud was that? The fact that Black Falcon went to see him fully armed showed that he did not trust him either. So why did he still go alone? Isn't that strange?"

"How did you figure all that out? I didn't see anything." Dorian the 'Adopted Son' was completely stunned after hearing Ian's words, and he asked the question blankly.

(These foreign names were hard to remember, so Ian instinctively gave nicknames to those without them. Dorian was called 'Adopted Son,' Ser Glason was called 'Turncoat Knight,' and Denzel the 'Spike' was called 'Dornishman Beaten Up by Society.')

"You were looking. I was observing." Ian quoted one of Sherlock Holmes's famous lines.

"No, who the fuck are you?" Dorian the Adopted Son finally snapped out of his daze and shouted at Ian. Then he looked at Glason beside him. "Who is this guy? Your new master, Ser?"

"Even when Boss Mogen was alive, he wouldn't have spoken to me in that tone, boy." Glason immediately snapped back.

That one word—"boy"—instantly enraged the young Adopted Son. Just moments ago, when he had sought support from his godfather's two lieutenants, Knife-Face and the Lame, they had humiliated him with the same word before walking away.

Just as Dorian was about to draw his sword, Ian stopped him.

"I think you misunderstand Ser Glason. Haven't you noticed that he is the only Mercenary Captain who remained here after your godfather's death, wanting to avenge him? Which of those other men didn't immediately want to rush back to your camp and compete for the position of the next commander?"

"This..." Dorian's hand, which had just touched his sword hilt, loosened at once.

"I came to help precisely because Ser Glason invited me." Ian shot Glason a warning look, signaling him not to speak. "Or do you think that just the few of you have what it takes to avenge Black Falcon?"

"This..."

"I am the only person in this world who can help you get revenge, if you are willing to share everything you know with me." As Ian spoke, he washed his hands in the basin of water Jannie handed him.

"Really?" Dorian had already believed him subconsciously. He looked at Ian, then at Turncoat Knight Glason.

"Uh, of course." Glason more or less understood Ian's intentions, though he still nodded somewhat awkwardly.

"So, shouldn't you apologize to Ser Glason? We are all working toward the same goal and ought to remain united." Ian continued.

"Yes." Dorian nodded, utterly unaware that he had become Ian's colleague without even agreeing to it. He spoke to Ser Glason in a very formal tone. "My apologies, Ser. I ask your forgiveness for my behavior just now."

"I shouldn't have called you a child either. In truth, you are already a fine Warrior. One day, you will become the new Boss Mogen." Glason played along, then added silently, You'll never become the new Boss Mogen, you wet-behind-the-ears brat. Bah!

"Then please clear up my doubts. This is crucial to finding the mastermind behind your godfather's murder." Ian walked to the door. "Shall we find another room and talk over drinks?"

Dorian agreed to Ian's suggestion, and before long the group moved to Ian's large room.

"What wine would you like?" Jannie chose that moment to perform her proper role.

"Golden Wine from the Arbor." Ian directly named the finest wine in all Westeros.

"Oh, Ser, how could a small establishment like ours possibly have such a fine vintage? Our best wine is only Summer Red from Dorne. Everything else is brewed by us."

Dornish horse piss. Ian could not help recalling someone's assessment of Summer Red from the original story. "Fine, then Summer Red." Ian answered, then looked at Dorian the Adopted Son. "So, shall we begin now, or wait until the wine arrives?"

"May I ask who you are first, sir?"

"Ser Lucian Lannister."

"A member of House Lannister? Are you here for the Blackfyre treasure too?" Dorian immediately became wary.

"My godfather couldn't have been murdered on his orders, could he? That thought crossed your mind just now, didn't it?" Ian said in an extremely exaggerated tone.

Dorian abruptly rose to his feet and stepped back.

"Relax, my friend. I did not know your godfather at all before this. I came here to capture a group of fugitives from King's Landing. They can all vouch for that."

Dorian looked around. Ser Glason and Jannie, who had just brought over the wine, both nodded.

Note: Ghost Hour and Wolf Hour were Westerosi ways of reckoning time. Ghost Hour was around midnight, while Wolf Hour was around three in the morning.