Suleiman stood in an open clearing at the edge of the camp.
He and his soldiers watched the three men in the training ground.
Bronn, Lushen, and Roslyn.
Lushen and Roslyn were both very obedient to Lord Suleiman.
Whenever they had free time, they immediately asked Bronn to teach them swordsmanship.
At first, Bronn seemed rather unwilling.
But later, he realized it was a good way to vent his frustrations.
He felt like he was being played! And it infuriated him!
Worse, it was by a sixteen-year-old young lord!
As far as Lushen and Roslyn were concerned, Bronn wasn't so much instructing them as beating them one-sidedly.
He swung a Wooden Sword casually, offering Lushen and Lausman halfhearted instructions.
His movements looked lazy, yet carried a sense of power.
Every swing and every block was precise and forceful.
By comparison, Lushen and Lausman
looked rather clumsy. Their movements had the brute force of farmers at work, without a hint of skill.
They looked like they were swinging farm tools.
Suleiman felt he could probably fight Bronn to a draw.
Perhaps he could try it sometime.
He had yet to cross swords with Westeros's top fighters.
"Not like that, you idiot!" Bronn finally lost patience and smacked Lushen's Wooden Sword, producing a dull thud.
He stepped forward to correct Lushen's grip, his voice laced with undisguised mockery:
"That's how you hold a sword? Are you trying to chop down a tree? Swords are for killing people, not chopping down trees!"
Lushen's face flushed red, but he still followed the instruction.
"And you, idiot!" Bronn turned to the other side. "What do you think that sword is, a hoe? Are you trying to plow the ground?!"
"Again!" Bronn growled, resuming his stance.
He was thoroughly impatient, and had no idea why he was teaching two farmers swordsmanship.
These two farmer-guards had terrible fundamentals. They had brute strength to spare, but their most basic fighting skills were a complete mess.
His eyes flicked toward Suleiman, who stood off to one side.
But he had no choice. He still couldn't figure out what their lord was capable of.
He paused, then softened his tone slightly. "Still, you two have made a bit of progress. You're not complete idiots anymore!"
"Remember, if you can't beat your opponent, go for the vulnerable spots."
"Eyes! Ears! Throat! Groin! Be as vicious and dishonorable as you need to!"
"Remember! You fight to survive, not for some notion of honor!"
Suleiman watched from the side, a hint of amusement flashing in his eyes.
That was the kind of advice you got from a sellsword.
Bronn might be a thoroughly unpleasant man, but he was genuinely skilled.
On the battlefield, surviving was all that mattered.
What was the point of dying for honor?
His instruction was crude, but it went straight to the heart of the matter.
After watching for only a moment, Suleiman could see that Lushen and Lausman's stances had improved, even if they were still awkward.
Bronn glanced at Suleiman, apparently checking whether the young lord was really watching.
Once he confirmed that Suleiman's gaze was fixed on him, he knew he had to show some real skill.
He turned to Lushen and Lausman. "I'll demonstrate first. Watch my feet and my center of gravity!"
This time, Bronn's movements became fluid and seamless, like a wolf on the hunt. Every step and turn carried a deadly rhythm.
He was no longer just venting his frustration. He was truly teaching them.
Suleiman pinched the bridge of his nose.
The sellsword really knew how to read a situation. He knew Suleiman was watching, and he knew what Suleiman wanted.
"Lushen, Lausman." Suleiman's voice interrupted their training. "Go get ready and gather everyone."
"Our rest is over!"
Then he turned to Bronn. "Have you apologized to the soldier you injured?" he asked, his expression faintly amused.
Bronn's mouth twitched, but he still answered, "Of course, Lord Suleiman! I've already been to see him!"
"Good." Suleiman nodded without asking for details, then motioned for him to follow as they left the tent.
Lushen and Roslyn soon arrived at the command tent with the troops assembled.
The four of them gathered around a wooden table, where a map showed the rough terrain around Valleydeep Town.
Suleiman moved his finger across the map and spoke calmly. "The scouts report that the Wildlings have split into groups. There are probably four or five hundred of them."
"They're searching for tracks. They're looking for us."
The atmosphere inside the tent instantly grew tense and oppressive.
Until now, they had only fought small groups of Wildlings.
Now they might be facing a force larger than their own.
Bronn looked around at the suddenly oppressive atmosphere in the tent, then grinned.
"That's good news. Those idiots have finally lost patience."
"Wildlings who've split up are easier to handle than Wildlings who've stuck together."
Suleiman nodded, acknowledging Bronn.
Seeing Suleiman nod, Bronn paused before adding, "Still, four or five hundred is no small number."
"Your men have fighting spirit, my lord, but I doubt they could beat the Wildlings in a head-on fight."
"I never planned to fight them head-on." Suleiman's lips curled into an eerie smile. "I intend to devour them at the lowest possible cost."
This was a crucial battle. Suleiman could not afford to fail.
Lushen and Roslyn both got goosebumps when Suleiman made that expression again.
Roslyn hurriedly said, "Lord Suleiman, we did a good job covering our tracks!"
"The Wildlings definitely won't find us!"
Suleiman smiled at Lushen and Roslyn. "No. From this moment on, I want you to leave tracks!"
"Why, Lord Suleiman?" Lushen and Roslyn asked in shock.
Bronn silently watched the young lord, who was only sixteen.
Surely he wasn't planning to take his three hundred men and fight the Wildlings head-on?
He had to admit that this force could fight.
But their equipment was terrible.
What's more, he didn't believe they could stand up to the Wildlings in a direct battle.
Suleiman pointed to a route on the map and ordered Bronn, Lushen, and Roslyn:
"Bronn! I'll give you a Wildling warhorse. Take five riders from my force and leave tracks for the Wildlings to follow!"
"Let them keep up with us, but stay half a day's journey ahead!"
"Don't let them catch up to you, and don't let them cut you off."
"You're the bait to lure them in, and our eyes and ears."
Suleiman stared directly at Bronn, a hint of warning in his gaze.
"Remember! The Wildlings may lose their reason when they're enraged, but they aren't stupid! If the tracks look too fake, they'll get suspicious!"
Then he turned to Roslyn.
"Your job is to work with Bronn and leave signs of life along the way."
"Roslyn, you're to destroy every well and water source along the route."
Suleiman's tone grew more emphatic.
"Don't just block them! Make the water undrinkable!"
"Throw in livestock, or anything that will quickly rot and stink!"
"At the same time, burn all the farmland!"
"Burn every store of food the Wildlings might be able to loot!"
"If they might find it and use it to stave off hunger, burn it if you can, destroy it if you can't!"
Suleiman drew the dagger at his waist and drove it hard into the map. "Every village, whether inhabited or deserted, and this town too—burn them all!"
The command tent fell silent.
"Tell the people to go to Foulkeep! I'll give them back their land and homes," Suleiman said slowly. "For every animal you kill, leave them proof."
"Tell them Lord Suleiman of Foulkeep bought their livestock. I'll pay them for it." His voice dropped lower. "Tell them the Wildlings are coming. If they refuse to leave, don't force them."
Then Suleiman pointed to the river valley on the map. "Lushen! This task cannot fail! The timing must be perfect!"
"I need you to take two hundred men and build a dam in just a few days!"
"The dam must not break too early, and it mustn't break too late!"
Suleiman gripped Lushen by the shoulder.
"This task cannot fail! My life is in your hands!"
Lushen's eyes reddened. He clenched his teeth. "Yes, Lord Suleiman!"
Bronn stared at Suleiman, stunned.
Damn it! Was he really only sixteen?
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