The wind across the plains brushed Suleiman's face and hair, lifting his spirits.
Suleiman sat astride his horse, silently watching the stone fortress standing atop the hill before him.
It was not large, yet it shocked Suleiman. This knight's family castle was far sturdier and grander than his own Foulkeep...
Gray stone walls were covered in moss, and the outline of Little Tower stood especially clear beneath the sunlight.
The castle's drawbridge slowly lowered with a teeth-grating creak.
More than a dozen guarding soldiers came out with ingratiating smiles on their faces. They had thrown down their weapons and raised both hands over their heads.
Behind them, two women were bound with ropes. The soldiers held the ropes and dragged them stumbling outside.
"Lord Suleiman!" The leading soldier dropped to his knees, his voice trembling. "We surrender the castle! Please forgive our crimes! These are that traitor's wife and daughter! We offer them to you!"
Suleiman's gaze passed over the groveling soldiers and settled on the two women, making him frown slightly.
The older woman was around thirty, while the girl beside her was barely over ten.
The mother and daughter were roughly yanked by their ropes and forced to their knees before Suleiman's horse, as though the soldiers had completely forgotten that she had once been their lady.
"My lord... spare us..." The woman wept so hard she could barely speak, pleading incoherently. "We know nothing... Please forgive us... please..."
Suleiman said nothing. He merely watched them in silence, finding the matter somewhat troublesome.
Bloodlines were the most stubborn thing in Westeros—harder than stone and iron, their roots more tangled than those of trees and weeds.
He could not let them go, at least not the girl. If she ever bore children, they would possess a claim to this