Black Falcon and Mountain Weasel

After a full month of preparations, we assembled a force of more than four hundred men, along with four light cavalry units for scouting and support. Oh, right." Dorian suddenly looked at the mercenary captain, Ser Glason. "It seemed that was also the day you returned to the camp after completing your previous mission to The North."

"That's right." The turncoat, Ser Glason, nodded. "I had just returned and was thrown into the battle order before I even understood what was happening. If not for the money, I'd have twisted off the head of that Harrison—Landlord Ser—who thought he could order me around."

Ian raised a hand to stop the turncoat, signaling that he need not continue, then looked at Dorian. "Go on, go on."

"I don't know whether Ser Glason told you, but we eventually found a temporary campsite in the woods south of White Wall City. It was a camp of around forty or fifty men, but by the time we arrived, it was already empty."

"So we continued searching, but in the end, we didn't find so much as a hair. The land to the east was already open plains, where they could hardly have hidden. Thus, our grand operation ended in a shameful failure."

"Yet the moment we disbanded, that bandit group immediately resumed its activities, like ghosts appearing out of thin air. We had no choice but to gather once more and discuss countermeasures."

"Having learned from the previous failure, we removed every unreliable mercenary from this operation and changed our approach from suppression to luring and annihilation. We had our elites disguise themselves as a caravan trading in velvet and silk, hoping to draw the enemy out before surrounding them with ambushers."

"Not a bad idea." Ian nodded approvingly. "But you still failed?"

"Yes. The bandits simply refused to take the bait. We changed the plan several times, but those bandits just would not come rob us."

"Did they stop their activities while you were lying in ambush?"

"No! They remained active, but they robbed only genuine passing caravans, perfectly and coincidentally avoiding every one of our traps. They were practically ghosts."

"There was obviously a mole!" Ian said. No wonder the Black Falcon Mercenaries and the Knight Alliance had fallen into internal conflict. That bandit group had been robbing people everywhere, yet it refused to bite the bait they laid. Without an insider, that was impossible.

"My adoptive father and Ser Veld reached the same conclusion. But as for which side the mole came from, both sides held to their own claims, and neither had evidence. Our alliance soon fell apart. After that, we began acting separately, each searching for Blackfyre's Restoration Treasure, but neither side found anything."

"Wait, wait, wait." Ian stopped Dorian. "Didn't you leave out something important?"

"Huh?"

"Blackfyre's Restoration Treasure! After hearing your story, I still can't see how you reached that conclusion! You spent the entire time talking about that bandit group. What did the bandit group have to do with the Blackfyre treasure?"

"Oh, I overlooked that. It was a judgment Ser Simon made during our second joint operation."

"Ser Simon?" Who the hell was this Ser again? These damned Western names! Ian roared inwardly.

"Ser Simon Harwen, a sworn knight of House Darry. He was the only knight Castle Darry sent to us."

The bastard knight from Castle Darry. Seven forgive me, but that was the only way I could remember him. "What was his basis for that speculation?"

"The Second Blackfyre Rebellion died before it could even begin. The Count of White Wall City and his accomplices must have stockpiled a huge amount of supplies for the rebellion. Yet the histories never mention what Blood Raven seized at White Wall City, so that vast wealth may have been hidden away in advance," Adopted Son Dorian answered.

"So that bastard from Castle Darry—Ser Simon—was a maester too? How did he know all that?"

Dorian froze for a moment. "We didn't ask. He sounded very certain."

Ian frowned. He did remember the Second Blackfyre Rebellion, but it had been such a farce that he had never paid much attention to how it was handled afterward.

It was indeed possible that the Count of White Wall City had stored away a large fortune. But a fortune left behind by one count of White Wall City could hardly deserve the title of "Blackfyre's Restoration Treasure." Still...

"You've had such a large group searching for the Blackfyre treasure for so long, and even now it's only a guess? You haven't found a single shred of evidence?" Ian's mouth twitched. He suddenly had the urge to slap Dorian across the face.

"That bandit group has always been active near White Wall City. They must be searching for that treasure. Otherwise, why would they insist on coming here? If they wanted to launch another Blackfyre Rebellion, they couldn't possibly choose the eastern shore of Gods Eye Lake as their starting point, could they?" Dorian hurriedly explained.

"But if they came for treasure, shouldn't they be operating in secret? Why cause such a huge commotion by carrying out robberies?" Ian shook his head, rejecting Dorian's explanation.

"My adoptive father raised that question too," Dorian quickly said. "His final judgment was that the bandits had been searching here for a long time without finding anything. The robberies were, first, to replenish their supplies, and second, because they were frustrated and wanted to recover their losses through plunder."

That did make sense. This Black Falcon had some brains. He was not the sort of musclebound brute with an empty head. Wait, that wasn't the point, was it?

"So this was the evidence that made you think the Count of White Wall City left behind a restoration treasure? Even as a guess, that's far too flimsy, isn't it? You have no evidence or clues at all?" Ian found it absurd.

"I don't know. But since my adoptive father, Ser Veld, and the others were all so certain, they must know some clues. They simply didn't tell me." Dorian spoke awkwardly. After all, he had just boasted that Black Falcon treated him like his own son and held nothing back from him.

Ian rolled his eyes and stopped dwelling on the topic, since no clues could be pried from it. "Over the past month, has either side made any progress in the treasure hunt?"

"No. After the alliance fell apart, we no longer dared to clash head-on with the Ghosts of White Wall City. We could only quietly search for the treasure, while they did not take the initiative to attack our camp either. They merely continued robbing passing caravans as usual."

"So nobody dealt with them?"

"You mean?"

"Banditry on this scale should be enough to report to the liege lord, shouldn't it? Since you can't handle this bandit group, you only need to report it to Duke Hoster in the Riverlands. House Tully will naturally send soldiers to deal with them."

"Though House Tully is a pack of political opportunists, they have always done quite well by their vassals and smallfolk." Ian was playing the role of a man from House Lannister, so naturally he had no need to be overly polite about House Tully.

"That's true, but Ser Veld and the others worry that if House Tully sends people, they won't get a share of the Blackfyre treasure."