Varys clasped his hands together, nodded slightly, and said, " Hand of the King Tyrion, you have restored everyone's confidence to win. King's Landing is unbreakable."
Tyrion climbed off the chair, limped over to fetch the jug and cups, and as he poured the wine, he said, "My biggest fear remains that there will be traitors in the city. A friend of mine told me that the strongest fortresses are often breached from within."
Lord Gryn had said this at the Small Council before leaving King's Landing (Chapter 186), Varys ' eyes flickered slightly upon hearing Tyrion's hint.
Varys took the glass, sipped it, and agreed, " Lord Gryn is a rare friend."
Tyrion, under the guise of drinking, subtly observed Varys's expression... Hmm, he seemed quite honest.
"So..."
Tyrion leaned against the table, his expression serious. "My friend," he said, "Tell me your purpose."
He narrowed his gaze and continued, "What is the purpose of reporting all this to me?"
Varys gently set down his wine glass, paused, and sighed, "My lord, what worries me is the Regent Mother. As far as I know, this news has already spread throughout the Red Keep."
Tyrion swirled his wine glass, pondering, "What do you think my sister, the Queen Mother, will do when she hears about this? Will she believe it?"
Varys sighed again, "Lord Tyrion, that's exactly what I'm worried about. We all know that the Queen Mother prefers to trust her instincts rather than rational speculation."
He paused for a moment, then continued, "The situation is chaotic right now, and the army on Crackclaw Point needs stabilization."
Tyrion tapped his fingers on the table and said, "Actually... everyone knows that Lord Gryn is Cersei's sharpest sword, except for herself."
Varys nodded slightly and said, "Even if the stable Crackclaw Point does nothing, it can still restrain Stannis's Dragonstone. I think they realized this, which is why what happened next."
Tyrion for a moment, took a sip of his Summer Wine, and said, "Given Cersei's personality, she would order Gryn to return to King's Landing without hesitation."
He looked at Varys, whose face had turned grave, and asked, "My friend, do you think Lord Gryn should return?"
As Tyrion finished speaking, Varys ' pupils contracted slightly.
After a moment of silence, he said helplessly, "There is no other way, my lord."
Tyrion raised an eyebrow and said, "I'd like to hear your reasons, Lord Varys."
Varys said slowly, " Hand of the King Tyrion, you not only seized control of King's Landing in a short time, but also maintained a delicate balance with the Regent while holding the reins. Your methods are truly admirable."
Tyrion grinned. "But..."
Upon hearing this, Varys ' eyes widened slightly, then he smiled faintly.
He continued, " Queen Regent Cersei may tolerate you for the time being for the sake of the upcoming war, but the Lord Gryn cannot. To her... whether she realizes that the Lord Gryn is a sharp sword in her hand or not, he is her vassal alone, so you have no right to interfere in this matter."
Tyrion shrugged and said, "Ha, the Lioness's roar. This is Cersei's private matter; your analysis is quite apt."
Varys smiled. "To borrow Ser Jaime's words, loyalty withstands no test. I believe that once Lord Gryn returns to King's Landing, Queen Regent Cersei will no longer doubt his loyalty."
Tyrion chuckled, "I have more faith in Gryn's service to my sister."
Varys's eyes flickered. " Hand of the King of Tyrion, I heard she's in a bad mood today. Perhaps you could offer your assistance to Queen Regent Cersei."
Tyrion's eyes flickered slightly as he grinned; Varys's smile deepened, his eyes growing more profound.
The warship " Myraham " on the Stony Shore of the North.
The gray-haired old the Warrior spoke up, "Today is victory day, yet you have no smile on your face. The living should laugh, for the dead cannot, young man."
After saying that, the Warrior smiled as he demonstrated.
The old the Warrior's name was Dagmer, and though his smile was ugly, it evoked countless memories for Theon... In his childhood, that smile accompanied him whenever he spurred his pony over the mossy low wall, whenever he threw his axe and hit the target, whenever he blocked Dagmer's attack, whenever he shot a seagull's wing, whenever he steered the longship through the tangled reefs, that smile was always by his side... Dagmer gave him more smiles than his father, more than Eddard Stark.
Theon snapped, "By right, my sister's task should have been given to me. I want to talk to you, Uncle Dagmer."
Dagmer wasn't Theon's biological uncle; he was just one of his father's many men. It was said that he had some Greyjoy blood four or five generations ago, which he acquired by accident during an affair... Even so, Theon still called him uncle.
Dagmer looked distressed and advised, " Young Wolf House Stark is your friend. The House Stark have kept you Theon ten years."
Theon stared at the old the Warrior: "Uncle Dagmer, I am not Stark, I am Greyjoy, heir to the King of the Iron Islands. How can I convince the Ironborn of my worth if I don't produce impressive victories?"
Dagmer continued to persuade him, "Our mission is merely to plunder the Stony Shore! You are young; you'll have plenty of opportunities to fight in the future."
Theon chuckled slyly, "As long as the goal of looting and harassment is achieved, what difference does it make who carries it out? You've lost interest in this banditry too, haven't you, Uncle Dagmer?"
Dagmer seemed intrigued, paused for a moment, and then asked, "What do you plan to do?"
Theon's lips curled into a smile. "If my sister can take over a castle, so can I."
Dagmer raised his horn, took a swig of wine, and said, " Theon, Asha's men outnumber ours by four or five times."
Theon raised his chin and said, " Asha is just a woman after all, while I have four times her wit and five times her courage."
Asha is no ordinary woman... Dagmer thought to himself, but he didn't say it aloud. The old the Warrior always felt that the Ironborn wanted a male king, not a queen.
He hesitated for a moment, then said, "About your father..."
Before Dagmer could finish speaking, Theon interrupted, "My father will thank me when I hand over an entire kingdom!"
He added proudly, "My planned actions will be sung by bards for a thousand years!"
Dagmer's cloudy eyes gradually brightened. His hair may have turned white, and his teeth may have become loose, but his desire for glory remained undiminished.
Dagmer finished his drink in one gulp, then tossed aside the horn and asked, "What role will I play in your plan?"
"Only your name can fill the hearts of your enemies with fear..."
Theon leaned forward and continued, "I need you to draw away the defenders of Winterfell, Dagmer!"
Winterfell, three days later.
" Maester Luwin, I dreamt of that raven again last night, the one with three eyes. It flew into my bedroom and wanted me to go with it."
Maester Luwin tossed a piece of wood into the fireplace and said, "Little Bran, remember my words, refuse it."
Bran Stark inherited the Tully family's appearance from his mother; he had chestnut hair and blue eyes. After falling from the Broken Tower (Chapter 149), he survived but lost the ability to walk and has since needed to be carried by servants to complete his daily activities.
Upon hearing Maester Luwin's advice, nine-year-old Bran simply nodded without saying a word.
Maester Luwin sighed, " Bran, you should know that dreams have no meaning."
Bran's voice held a hint of stubbornness. "I've heard that the Children of the Forest know about dreams."
Maester Luwin shook his head slightly and replied, "Young Bran, the Children of the Forest existed only in dreams; they have long since vanished."
"What is this?" Rickon's childish voice suddenly rang out.
In Maester Luwin's study, books were piled high on the desks and chairs, almost reaching his height. Rows of bottles and jars were displayed on the shelves along the walls, and the furniture was covered with burnt candles and dried wax drips. Star charts hung on the walls, and scattered maps were laid out on the straw mats. Paper, quill pens, and ink bottles were everywhere.
Rickon Stark, four years old and the youngest son of Lord Eddard, was staring with curiosity at the black arrow he had finally managed to find.
Bran glanced at the gleaming arrow in his brother's hand. "Is it glass... Dragonglass?"
Maester Luwin first corrected him, saying, "Its scientific name is Obsidian, a substance forged deep within the earth by the fire of the Gods."
He continued, "Thousands of years ago, because the Children of the Forest did not know how to smelt metals, they hunted with Obsidian, and their arrows and blades were made of Obsidian."
He then warned Rickon, "The arrows are sharp; don't cut yourself."
Bran began, " Maester Luwin, tell me about the Children of the Forest."
Maester Luwin asked kindly, "Young Bran, what would you like to know?"
Bran put his arm around Rickon, who leaned in to "listen to the story," and said, "I want to know about every aspect."
Maester Luwin tugged at his maester's chain and said slowly, " The Children of the Forest are a race that lived in the Age of Dawn. They were the first rulers of the world, long before kings and kingdoms existed, when there were no castles, no villages, and no markets."
At that time, no humans existed; only the Children of the Forest lived in this land we call the Seven Kingdoms. How long they ruled there, or where they came from, no one knows.
He tossed a piece of wood into the fireplace and continued, " The Children of the Forest are a dark and beautiful people. They are short in stature; even the adults are about the same height as our children."
They live deep in the forests, in caves, in marshy islands, and in secret treetop towns. Though small in stature, the Children of the Forest are agile and graceful, and both men and women hunt with bows and arrows weirwood and with flying nets.
They worship ancient gods belonging to the forest, streams, and rocks, whose names are kept secret. Their wise men are called Greenseer Greenseer, who carve strange faces on weirwood to protect the forest.
"Around 12,000 years ago, the First Men appeared, riding horses and carrying bronze swords and leather shields, crossing the sea from the east through Dorne then-unbroken Broken Arm Dorne."
When the First Men built houses and farmlands, they cut down trees with faces to burn as firewood, which horrified the Children of the Forest, who then went to war with the First Men.
The First Men were taller and stronger, and wood, stone, and Obsidian could not match bronze, so the Children of the Forest suffered heavy casualties.
Ancient ballads and legends tell of the Greenseer wielding powerful magic, causing the sea levels to rise, sweeping across the land, and shattering the Arm of Dorne; but it was too late.
The war continued until the blood of the First Men and the Children of the Forest stained the earth red, and the chieftains and heroes of the First Men, along with the Greenseer and the Wood Dancer of the Children of the Forest, came to the Isle of Faces in the Gods Eye and made a covenant.
Bran asked, "An oath? What kind of oath?"
Maester Luwin nodded and said, "The oath stipulates that the First Men own the coast, plains, grasslands, mountains, and swamps, but the lush forests forever belong to the Children of the Forest, and no weirwood shall ever be felled throughout the kingdom."
"The signing of the oath ended the Age of Dawn and began the Age of Heroes, as well as a four-thousand-year friendship between the First Men and the Children of the Forest. Later, the First Men even abandoned the beliefs they brought from the East and instead worshipped the mysterious the Gods of the Children of the Forest."
Bran asked doubtfully, "According to the oath, the Children of the Forest still live in the forest. Why do you say they disappeared?"
Maester Luwin was very patient. "As long as the kingdom of our First Men still exists, the oath remains valid. However, about a thousand years ago, tall, blond Andals, carrying weapons forged from fine steel and with the Seven-Pointed Star symbolizing their New Gods painted on their chests, crossed the Narrow Sea to attack."
A rapid knocking sounded at the door.
" Maester Luwin, Benfred Tallhart of Torrhen's Square (located on the shore of the Great Lake southwest of Winterfell ) has requested aid. They have been ambushed by pirates led by a man named Dagmer."
" Dagmer the Cracked Jaw of the Iron Islands?!"
The following morning, Ser Rodrik Harlaw Caesar, House Stark, led eight hundred soldiers gathered from Winterfell and nearby manors on an emergency expedition, leaving only a few symbolic guards in Winterfell.
Two days later, at dawn, Theon appeared silently with dozens of Ironborn at the foot of a city wall in Winterfell. A smug look appeared on his face.
Led by Theon, dozens of Ironborn swam across Winterfell's moat without alerting the guards and appeared here.
Theon first craned his neck and observed quietly for a while, then raised his hand and made a gesture.
Several lean Ironborn opened the bags on their bodies and took out iron claws and ropes. They slung the ropes over their shoulders, took a few steps to run, and then leaped up, plunging their iron claws deep into the cracks in the city wall. They repeated this process, and one by one, the Ironborn climbed up the city wall.
Before long, the ropes were swung down one by one, and Theon waved his hand, and the remaining Ironborn used the ropes to climb up the city wall.