On the border where Riverlands and the Westerlands intertwined, the cavalry galloped. Suleiman tightened the reins, and the war horse snorted impatiently.
He looked back at the empty field behind him, looked at Rosso and said, "Rosso."
"How are those Ironborn who followed us all the way?"
Rosso urged his horse forward, and the dust on his face could not conceal his relief. "Sir, the last batch of Ironborn scouts changed direction in the morning."
"They watched our flag cross the border."
Suleiman nodded slightly. The first step of his fraud plan was completed. The team continued to move forward. Not long after, an army appeared on the horizon. They had bright armor and the neatness of the regular army in their actions. A flag with six white shells fluttering in the wind was the coat of arms of House Westerling. The Crag Lord Gawen. Westerling was a tall man with a square face. He stopped fifty steps away from the team, loudly asked the identity of the visitor, and asked to report his identity. When he learned that this team was the cavalry team that severely damaged Ironborn in Riverlands, Gawen. Westerling's attitude immediately became enthusiastic and respectful.
Gawen. Westerling rode forward and greeted the team, "My lords, sir, welcome to the Westerlands."
"Your heroic deeds have long been spread throughout this land."
He glanced at the tired-looking House Grell women in the team with his own light, and immediately told his subordinates, "Go, bring my wife's carriage, and ask the House Grell ladies to get in and rest."
Immediately, he turned to Damon, Greer, Raymun, Darry and Suleiman, and issued a warm invitation.
"My lords, you can go to my castle the Crag. Please let me serve as a guest and wait there for the change of the war situation. My family will be responsible for entertaining you."
Damon. Greer accepted it with almost tears of gratitude. The purpose of his trip was to seek asylum. House Westerling's helping hand was like providing help in times of need. He originally thought that he would continue to seek asylum on the land of Lannister family.
Suleiman shook his head and politely refused. "Thank you for your kindness, Master Westerling, but my mission has not been completed yet."
Gawen. Westerling had a puzzled look on his face. He looked at the young man in front of him. The illustrious military exploits he had heard about formed a sharp contrast with this overly young face. "Young man, what else do you want to do?"
Suleiman made a strange request. "I hope your lord can send a cavalry of yours."
"In the next few days, I will carry my flag and patrol back and forth along the border to create the illusion that my troops are still here."
Gawen. Westerling's eyes suddenly opened wide. "You... do you still want to kill Riverlands?"
There was no change in Suleiman's eyes. He glanced at the tired knights behind him and suggested to Westerling: "Yes, sir, if Riverlands's Ironborn is not cleared away, I will not have peace for a day."
These words were spoken so loudly, and the loyalty and determination contained in them shocked Gawen. Westerling's heart, causing his appreciation of this young man to instantly rise to a new level.
At the dinner party at the military camp responsible for the defense of the Westerlands, candlelight flickered and the aroma of barbecue and wine filled the warm tent.
Gawen. Westerling insisted that Suleiman stay and enjoy the peaceful hospitality for at least one night. He sat in the main seat and frequently raised his glass to Suleiman, his eyes full of approval.
He listened to the Riverlands knights who followed Suleiman, using the simplest and most sincere language to praise and praise their young commander. A bold idea quietly took shape in Gawen. Westerling's heart.
Although House Westerling is a the Westerlands noble with a long history, its fiefdom has been shrinking over the years, and its influence is not as good as before. Although the young man in front of him has a humble background, his ability, military exploits, and almost deified reputation in the hearts of the knights all indicate that he will receive many rewards after the war.
His views on bloodline are far less harsh than those of other nobles. His wife was born from a merchant and commoner. Nothing is more criticized than a nobleman marrying a merchant and commoner. Outsiders say House Westerling is just for money.
After three rounds of drinking, the atmosphere was in full swing. Gawen. Westerling suddenly stood up, raised his glass high, and the tent instantly became quiet.
He looked straight at Suleiman and spoke in a loud voice to ensure that everyone could hear, "Little Suleiman, I heard that you are not married?"
"If you don't mind, I hope that my daughter, Jenny. Westerling, can enter into a marriage contract with you."
Suleiman just took a sip of wine and almost spit it out, but he still choked. He coughed violently, Jenny. Westerling, isn't this Young Wolf's wife? He hadn't had time to organize his words...
A sharp and mean female voice broke through the warm atmosphere. "My dear husband, are you kidding me?"
Gawen's wife, Lady Sybell, didn't even look at Suleiman.
She sat upright, with a cold arc hanging from the corner of her mouth, and the contempt in her tone was undisguised. "Marriage is the union of the family."
"This... Master Suleiman is certainly brave, but may I ask, what is his last name? Where does his bloodline come from?"
Her voice echoed in the camp, and every word was like a cold needle.
"We House Westerling, with the blood of First Men flowing in our bodies, are the Westerlands nobles that have been passed down for thousands of years."
"If Jane is betrothed to a... little nobleman from a humble background, the whole the Westerlands will laugh at us."
As soon as the words fell, the warm air in the camp seemed to be drained out instantly. Everyone's smiles froze on their faces. Gawen. Westerling's face turned the color of pig liver. He did not expect that his wife would say such offensive words in public.
The Riverlands knights behind Suleiman and beside them all clenched their fists and glared at the superior woman. In their hearts at this moment, insulting Suleiman was more intolerable than insulting themselves.
To everyone's surprise, Suleiman, who was humiliated in public, showed no anger at all on his face. He just put down the choked wine glass and picked up another glass. His fingertips gently rubbed the side of the glass with a calm expression, as if he was listening to something that had nothing to do with him.
Lady Sybell Seeing his silence, she thought he was shocked by her words. She turned her eyes and landed on a young man not far away who was eating and drinking. She had already found out the identities of everyone present.
The woman immediately put on a gentle smile, as if the meanness just now had never happened. "In comparison."
"House Greyjoy is the perfect match for our Jenny."
"Master Maron is a Greyjoy who is loyal to Iron Throne."
"After the war, His Majesty the King will most likely appoint him as the new Warden of the Iron Islands. Only with such a noble bloodline and great future is he worthy of my daughter."
In an instant, everyone's eyes shifted from Suleiman to the young man who was stunned in embarrassment and holding the leg of lamb with oil stains on the corners of his mouth, Maron. Greyjoy.
Does this have anything to do with me? Maron. Greyjoy stopped biting the leg of lamb, wiped his mouth slowly with a napkin, slowly raised his head and looked at Lady Sybell, with a calm and ironic smile exactly like hers just now.
He used a clear and arrogant tone, word for word, imitating Lady Sybell's tone just now, and spoke, "Madam, I'm afraid you have misunderstood something."
"We, House Greyjoy, are the direct descendants of Grey King during the Age of Heroes period. We have noble blood and are the masters of the archipelago."
He paused and glanced at Lady Sybell with contempt, then at the embarrassed Gawen. Westerling next to her.
"And House Westerling... with all due respect, he is just a small vassal of the Lannister family, with a humble bloodline."
"My wife must be the daughter of the top noble family in Seven Kingdoms."
He leaned forward slightly, and his voice was not loud, but it was like a loud slap on Lady Sybell's face.
"I'm afraid your daughter... is not worthy of the surname Greyjoy."
The air in the entire camp was completely frozen. Lady Sybell's carefully maintained face turned from pale to red and then to livid in an instant. His lips were trembling and he could not speak a word. Gawen. Westerling's expression was even more embarrassing, and he wanted to find a crack in the ground to crawl in.
Suleiman looked at this scene and couldn't help laughing. It's such an interesting chain of aristocratic discrimination. Westerling looks down on me, Greyjoy looks down on Westerling.
This dinner party, which was intended to welcome the Riverlands heroes Warrior, ended in such a suffocating and embarrassing atmosphere, ending unhappily and hastily.
Late at night, Maron. Greyjoy found Suleiman. He was very interested in this peer who captured him. It can be said that he learned a lot from him. If he could really become Warden of the Iron Islands, there would be no Ironborn to support him. He needed to recruit some supporters, and the person in front of him was very suitable.
He spoke with a hint of excitement in his voice, as if everything was exactly as he said, "Look, Suleiman."
"Now you understand, in Westeros, everything is determined by your blood the moment you are born."
"Lady Sybell looks down on you, and I can easily humiliate her. This is the authority brought by my surname and my blood, a gap you can never cross."
"So, stop having those unrealistic dreams.
He walked up to Suleiman and his tone became cunning, imitating Suleiman's way of speaking, as if he was tempting a lost lamb.
"Listen, my friend, if... if I really become Warden of the Iron Islands after the war, you will be loyal to me!!!"
"I will grant you an island and make you its leader!!!"
"Come and help me, and I will give you a lot of things, much more than what that old man Hoster can give you. This is better than daydreaming here alone."
Suleiman listened to what he said quietly, without refuting or accepting. He just spoke slowly, his voice as calm as the night sky. "People do not become great just because they are born, they are just luckier than others."
He turned his back to Maron. Greyjoy and looked towards the deep night sky, where the stars were distant and cold.
Suleiman's voice also carried an unprecedented tone full of subversive power. "Remember, Greyjoy."
"If you can't profit from the current system, don't be afraid to offend it."
He turned around slowly, his eyes flashing with a cold light that made Maron. Greyjoy's heart palpitate.
"Go and try to ruin it."