Blood-Forged Deep Roots (Part 1)

The next day, early morning.

Disciplined Garon climbed out of bed as usual, rising to prepare for his daily routine of training.

He finished dressing and had just stepped out of his bedroom when he found Jon and Lawrence waiting for him on the wooden gallery to the right.

The two had their backs to him, gazing out at the scenery below the hill.

The hill stood about a hundred meters high, and from where Jon stood, he could easily see the snow-capped mountains.

He recalled what Maester Luwin had said: Deepwood Motte was closer to the sea than Winterfell, situated only twenty or thirty kilometers from the coastline.

Jon couldn't help but shift his gaze, hoping to catch a glimpse of the sea.

Unfortunately, layers of mountains and trees blocked his view; he couldn't even smell the scent of the ocean.

Jon took a deep breath of the morning air, a faint hint of pine sinking into his lungs, which left him feeling refreshed.

"How is it? Does Deepwood Motte have a unique charm of its own?"

At that moment, Garon walked softly behind Jon and spoke with a smile.

Lawrence had grown up in Deepwood Motte and was long accustomed to its scenery, so he didn't find it particularly special.

He even felt it was a bit desolate.

Jon, however, had just arrived and was experiencing it with fresh eyes.

He turned his head and looked at Garon with excitement.

"It really does. I arrived too late yesterday, and the light was too dim, so I didn't get a good look. Only after waking up today did I realize that Deepwood Motte is actually this large!"

Jon paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping toward the north before snapping to the south, and he said in disbelief, "There are actually two baileys here?!"

Garon followed his gaze and explained, "I had the north bailey expanded recently; it's still under construction. The south bailey is the one the family has always used."

As his words fell, he looked up at the sky, realized it was getting late, and added.

"Let's go. We'll head to the north bailey first, and I'll explain it to you bit by bit."

Garon turned and stepped down the wooden stairs nearby, with Jon and Lawrence following behind him.

On the way to the north bailey, Garon introduced the details of Deepwood Motte to the newcomer, Jon.

Deepwood Motte was a classic motte-and-bailey wooden castle.

That is to say, the main body was divided into two parts—

The residential castle atop the hill and the bailey at the foot of the hill.

At the entrances where the north and south baileys led to the hill, a pair of square wooden towers had been set up for protection, with the towers connected by a walkway along the wall.

Furthermore, for the sake of safety, the hilltop castle also had both north and south gates.

If an enemy were to breach the bailey and attack the inner hilltop castle, the Glovers could close the gates and use the hilltop arrow towers to conduct a defensive stand from a superior position.

The entire Deepwood Motte centered on the hill, with the north and south baileys as flanks, using moss-covered wooden palisades as the outer walls.

Outside the walls, a deep trench had been dug, with a sloped earthen embankment and log palisades serving as defensive positions.

To the east and west of Deepwood Motte lay open fields, where oats and barley were grown.

They were now nearing harvest.

"I started having the north bailey built six months ago. On one hand, the family's needs are growing, and the original south bailey simply wasn't enough to accommodate everything."

"On the other hand, the long summer is coming to an end, and a long winter is approaching."

Garon spoke in a deep voice as he descended the stairs: "The four clans of the Wolfswood have pledged their loyalty to me, and I intend to build some wooden houses so they can find shelter here once the winter arrives."

Jon suddenly understood and smiled, "Just like Winter Town?"

Garon nodded, "Exactly."

After stepping off the stairs, he continued along the wooden gallery toward the north gate.

Along the way, the guards and servants bowed and stepped aside when they saw Garon.

Garon smiled and greeted them cordially.

When they reached the courtyard, Jon noticed that some of the wooden pillars showed signs of rot, so he couldn't help but ask.

"Lord Garon, why doesn't Deepwood Motte use stone for the castle? Wouldn't that be much sturdier?"

Garon shook his head slightly, "There is a reason for that!"

He recalled his past life, where this type of castle had also appeared in medieval Europe; the Normans had conquered most of England and France using these "motte-and-bailey" style castles.

Because they were cheap and easy to manufacture, the Normans used this low-cost method of castle construction to consolidate their territories.

However, wooden castles were prone to fire and rot, so they soon declined and were eventually replaced by stone castles.

The same was true on the continent of Westeros.

Nowadays, the only castle that still maintained this structure was likely Deepwood Motte, located deep within the Wolfswood.

The root cause—

It was due to the unique geographical environment and historical factors of Deepwood Motte.

Deepwood Motte is located in the Wolfswood, where there is no shortage of anything, least of all wood.

For thousands of years, it has been in constant conflict with the ironborn, with Deepwood Motte frequently being besieged at its very doorstep and often facing severe damage.

Although stone fortresses are sturdy, the cost of repairing them once damaged is extremely high.

Harrenhal is the most typical example; a single blast of dragonfire left it unable to be repaired for hundreds of years.

Wooden fortresses are different; their repair costs are extremely low, and they can be used indefinitely as long as the timber is replaced periodically.

It is for this reason that Deepwood Motte has persisted in using a wooden castle throughout its wars with the ironborn.

Garon explained the reasons to Jon as they walked.

Jon instantly conjured images in his mind of the Glover family fighting tooth and nail against the ironborn at Deepwood Motte.

"The ironborn all deserve to die!"

Thinking of Theon's betrayal of Bran, he couldn't help but curse viciously.

Upon hearing this, Lawrence felt a surge of goodwill toward Jon.

Having been taken in as a ward by Galbart since he was a child and assimilated by the Glover family, he shared the same hatred for the ironborn.

Garon heard the curse and did not stop his pace, though he thought to himself.

There isn't much time left before we raise our banners; I must instill the Glover ideology into him as soon as possible.

Only if he identifies with the Glovers can I entrust him with important responsibilities.

He led the two out of the inner castle's north gate and walked down the hillside, thinking, I must find a way to make him integrate quickly!

As Jon walked, he looked down at the castle yard.

A row of wooden huts had been built on the west side of the north yard, while a pile of logs was stacked on the east side.

To the south of the logs stood a larger wooden hut with its door closed, and it was unclear what was kept inside.

Just then, a group of people emerged sporadically from the western huts and began gathering in the center of the yard.

"Huh, what are they doing?"

Jon was curious, but Garon's eyes flickered slightly as he hit upon a way to accelerate Jon's integration into Deepwood Motte.

He did not answer Jon's question, instead coming to a halt and standing quietly on the hillside, overlooking the dawdling crowd on the grounds.

This group of youths, roughly the same age as Garon, yawned and gathered sluggishly.

Jon hadn't realized it yet, but Lawrence beside him had already begun to panic.

He glanced at Garon uneasily, cursing inwardly: I clearly notified Ron that Garon was returning last night; how dare they still fail to assemble on time.

Damn it, now I'm going to be punished along with them!

The three stood on the hillside for another five minutes, until a dark-haired youth ran out of a wooden hut on the right in a panic.

He waved his arms and shouted to those around him: "Lord Garon returned last night! Quick, get into formation!"

The previously sluggish crowd instantly became fearful and tense.

They quickly formed ranks, took their positions, and waited silently for Garon's arrival.

Garon then turned his gaze to Lawrence, his voice calm: "How many days have they been this lazy?"

Lawrence's lips trembled as he said fearfully: "Three... three days..."

Garon narrowed his eyes, and an invisible pressure suddenly permeated the air, causing Lawrence's face to turn deathly pale.

"Let's go, we're heading over!"