Gryn Crabb raised an Earl and said, " Leonor Corbray?"
Leonor Corbray is the Earl of Heart's Home in the Vale. His father, on his deathbed, left him the fiefdom, title, castle, and all his wealth, but bequeathed the clan sword " Lady Forlorn " to his younger brother, Lyn Corbray. It is rumored that he has always felt his rights had been violated in this matter.
Leyton, the Little Steward, nodded and said, "Yes, my master. According to the intelligence we've gathered, he also commands the 3,000-strong army of the ' True Declaration of Lords Declarant,' and with the mercenaries, they have nearly ten thousand troops in total."
Gryn stared at the map in silence. Leyton continued, "I heard that Earl Corbray publicly declared that his purpose in coming to Gulltown was to retrieve his family's heirloom. I heard this from a drunkard... I think he's very likely here for Master's sword (Chapter 220)."
Gryn tapped his fingers lightly on the edge of the table and said, "It seems that ' Lady Forlorn ' is one of the rewards that Lord Petyr promised Earl Corbray."
After a moment of silence, Gryn's gaze sharpened slightly, and he suddenly said, " Leyton, don't you think our intelligence came a little too easily?"
Leyton blinked, scratched his head, and said in a respectful voice with a hint of doubt, "My master, in order to obtain their information, I spent a lot of Gold Dragon..."
He held up five fingers with a pained expression. "At least 500 Gold Dragon."
Gryn smiled wryly. Although Crabb's vault contained millions of Gold Dragon, Crabb had not yet adapted to being a millionaire.
After the War of the Usurper, Crabb lived frugally for over a decade due to the methods of Hand of the King Jon Arryn, and it's reasonable that Leyton grew up in that same environment.
Gryn rubbed his chin, actually thinking about the issue of confidentiality.
Westeros did not have any principle of secrecy in this regard, and when faced with such problems, the methods they used were often crude and barbaric, or relied more on personal talent.
Moreover, gathering intelligence is not considered an honorable task by the Westeros people.
How did the Crabb Legion protect its secrets? They relied on the Survey Corps ' vigilance, using equally brutal and savage methods, even more so during wartime.
Gryn tapped his fingers on the table again.
Before they knew it, the Survey Corps had taken on multiple roles... If they don't adjust in time, Ser Pell will probably be completely bewildered sooner or later.
Hmm... Crabb needs a dedicated intelligence organization.
What should we call him? The Embroidered Uniform Guard (out of immersion, scratch that)? KK Bo (..., scratch that)?
Lord Gryn knew that such things couldn't be rushed, and he was very patient.
He began, "Loyal Leyton, we will have many battles ahead. It is crucial that we have means to protect intelligence and prevent leaks."
After a pause, Gryn continued, "While I really hope we can get it done tomorrow, I know it needs to be done step by step..."
He beckoned. "Come here, my loyal Leyton."
Leyton walked over, stunned.
Gryn pointed to the location of Crackclaw Point and continued, "If you have enough confidence, I can make an exception for you and reward you with a piece of land ahead of schedule. Leyton, I want you to build for me..."
The fields after the rain looked exceptionally fresh, the dewdrops on the wild grass were crystal clear, and the morning sun shone through the clouds onto the damp earth, as if draping it in a light golden veil.
Gryn's horse paced back and forth as he watched Crabb's longbowmen slowly move toward their designated spot.
They were the last of the 5,000 Crabb Longbow.
Two days of heavy rain had made the soil soft and moist, creating shallow puddles with every step. The Swamp Marigold Banner moved slowly forward, and the soldiers maintained good order.
Gryn pulled on the reins, adjusted the horse's direction, and looked towards the distance where the Vale flags were fluttering.
Lena rode up, the horse's hooves making a "gurgling" sound as they trod on the wet ground.
The petite Lena, seated atop her tall, sturdy horse, bowed with her hand on her chest. "My Lord."
Nodding slightly, Gryn asked, "How's the situation over there, Lena?"
"My lord, although the muddy terrain has caused us considerable trouble during our march, everything is proceeding smoothly, and we are currently setting up our formation. As per your orders, we have not left any reserves; all Crabb Longbow will face the enemy directly."
Gryn turned his head and asked, "Are the stakes and hammers ready?" (Chapter 239)
Lena's light-colored hair shone brightly in the morning light as she replied, "Ready, my lord!"
Gryn's brown eyes stared at the battle-ready Lena for a moment, then he said, " Lena, I'm leaving this to you. I'll be looking forward to your performance."
"Yes, Gryn!"
The messenger's voice rang out. "Lord Royce ( Bronze Yohn ), each of Crabb's archers is carrying a stake with two pointed ends."
There was a moment of silence, then the Vale nobles surrounding Bronze Yohn burst into laughter.
Sir Simon Templeton of Nine Stars laughed the loudest, "Hahahaha... War is about to begin, do they really think they can build a wooden wall in front of the Vale Knights?"
As soon as he finished speaking, everyone burst into laughter again, their laughter filled with mockery and contempt.
Earl Lady Anya of Ironoaks looked at Bronze Yohn, who was frowning, and said, " Earl, is this a battle that violates honor?"
" Lady Anya, what do Wildling know about honor? They only know how to kneel and beg for mercy at the charge of the Vale Knights!"
"Hahaha!"
"If they really do that, the Vale Knights will have to use those wooden stakes they've painstakingly moved... ha ha... to stick the heads of every Crackclaw Point Wildling into them!"
Sir Templeton, I must say your idea is excellent!
"Did they already know that today would be their inevitable end? So, were those wooden stakes used in some kind of ritual by the Wildling?"
"Hahaha, Wildling ritual?"
"It's quite possible that Lord Crabb is still a kid, and he can't stop the strange traditions of his Wildling subordinates."
"Could those wooden stakes bring peace to the dead?"
" Seven Hells! Do the noble Vale Knights have to help them complete their rituals after finishing their battles?"
"Ha ha ha ha..."
Bronze Yohn made a gesture for silence. As time went on, Bronze Yohn's reputation within the Declaration of Lords Declarant grew, and the cheering crowd quickly stopped their pre-battle taunts.
He looked at Lady Anya, pointed to a spot, and said, " Earl Anya, please look over there..."
In the direction Bronze Yohn pointed, where thousands of "spectators" had gathered, he continued, "Besides the people of the Vale, there are also bards, singers, harpists, learned scholars, merchants, and mercenaries who have come from afar. They will spread the word about today's scene throughout the Seven Kingdoms. Therefore, no one will do anything dishonorable today."
Bronze Yohn's sharp gaze slowly swept over the crowd, and he continued, "Gentlemen, pride and underestimation of the enemy are the shortcuts to escaping into the arms of the Stranger on the battlefield. This is a battle concerning the highest honor of the Vale!"
He raised his chin and declared loudly, "I, Jorn Royce, expect you to take your enemies seriously."
He waved one arm and shouted, "Long live Vale of Arryn!"
The crowd joined in, chanting in unison, "Long live Vale of Arryn! Long live Vale of Arryn! Long live Vale of Arryn!"
"Sir Simon Templeton, you are the vanguard of the Vale!"
"Leave it to me, Earl!"
" Earl Benedar Belmore, you will lead the next wave of the charge!"
"At your service, Earl."
Two hours later, the Crabb Soldiers and the Vale cavalry faced each other across a wheat field, about 1,500 yards apart.
The cavalry in the Vale stretched as far as the eye could see. Gryn stood at the front of the formation, gazing ahead with a mixture of indifference, detachment, and mockery in his eyes (please try to imitate this).
Gryn kicked his horse in the flank, and the horse trotted forward, with Brienne following closely behind, holding aloft the Marsh Marigold banner.
On the other side, Bronze Yohn also rode up at almost the same time.
Sizzle!
In the wheat field, the horse beneath him was struggling to move, so Gryn gently pulled on one side of the reins to slow it down.
The sound of hooves clattering on the muddy ground made Gryn's mood increasingly cheerful, and he secretly planned to be a little more polite in a moment.
Meanwhile, the terrible muddy ground made Bronze Yohn frown. The battle-hardened man sensed something was wrong... Even after two days of rain, the ground shouldn't be this soft.
Before he could think it through, Bronze Yohn and Lord Gryn had already met.
According to the tradition of a duel, the two would "amicably" choose one side to sound the bugle, and the sound of the bugle would signal the start of the battle.
A gentle breeze stirred, causing Gryn's medium-length, dark hair to flutter lightly. He said with an air of confidence, "Your Excellency Earl Royce, you seem to be in a rather unwell mood..."
He raised his chin slightly, his tone shifting to a disdainful one. "If the Knights of the Vale are willing to kneel and surrender, I may consider pardoning your crimes."
The smile that Bronze Yohn was about to curl froze, his gaze suddenly sharpened, and he fell silent... Lord Gryn had left a good impression on him, and he was trying to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.
"You despicable Wildling Earl, you have committed an unforgivable offense!" The standard-bearer's angry voice quickly confirmed to Bronze Yohn that he had not misheard.
"Dismount immediately and kneel to beg Lord Royce's forgiveness, Earl of the Wildling!" the standard-bearer of Bronze Yohn shouted again.
Gryn's gaze sharpened instantly as he looked at the glaring standard-bearer. After a pause, he suddenly asked, "Who are you?"
Creak!
The sound was like teeth grinding, and he roared, "I am Harlan Hunter of the Longbow Hall!"
Coming to his senses, Bronze Yohn coldly added, "He is Harlan Hunter."
Gryn raised an eyebrow, his tone laced with sarcasm. "A mere Vale Knight dares to offend the Earl of the Crownlands? Is this the honor of Vale Knight?"
Ser Harlan Hunter gritted his teeth and said, "I am a knight personally appointed by Duke Jon Arryn."
To be honest, Gryn's first Earl was granted to him by Jon Arryn after he "begged" Robert I (Chapter 91).
But now was not the time for arguing, and he had no interest in verbally clashing with a "dead man."
Ignoring Sir Harlan, Gryn addressed Bronze Yohn directly, saying, " Earl Royce, the heavy rains of the past two days have soaked the ground, which will affect your horses."
He paused, then continued, "I'm a little worried your horses won't be able to run. Do you still want to fight as agreed? As the ruler of Crackclaw Point and a knight of honor, I can offer you a direct surrender..."
Before Gryn could finish speaking, Sir Harlan interrupted angrily, "Even in the swamps, the Vale Knights can still charge at the Wildling!"
Bronze Yohn then coldly retorted, "Young Earl, a few wooden stakes cannot withstand the charge of heavy cavalry."
Gryn shrugged and said, " Earl Royce, your insight is keen. I hope those wooden stakes can hold off the Vale Knights' attack."
Bronze Yohn stared at Gryn and said, "Young man, I wish you were in time. The valiant Vale Knights won't give you much time."
Gryn reached out his hand toward Brienne, and upon seeing this, the "Beauty" immediately handed him her knight's lance.
After firmly gripping his lance, Gryn said, "According to tradition, we'll use a lance duel to determine which side will sound the bugle."
Sir Harlan's face contorted as he looked at Gryn, who was turning his horse around, and a cruel smile appeared on his face.
After Sir Harlan had adjusted the horse's direction, Bronze Yohn cautioned, " Harlan, be careful. Lord Crabb was the lance champion at the last King's Landing's Tournament."
With a clang, Sir Harlan pulled down his visor and said, "Lord Royce, the Tournament is just a knightly game for entertainment. I will teach him a lesson."
When Gryn and Sir Harlan were about 100 yards apart, they stopped their horses in perfect unison.
This is not Tournament; there is no need for the sound of horns to remind us.
After adjusting the direction of their horses, they paused for a moment, then almost simultaneously spurred their horses forward, galloping towards each other.
As the distance drew closer, Sir Harlan peered intently through the gaps in his visor at the oncoming Gryn. His upper body leaned forward with each gallop of his horse, the tip of his lance gleaming coldly in the morning light, and a slow smile played on his lips.
The horses' hooves flew, and the distance drew closer.
Sir Harlan's eyes, hidden behind his visor, were filled with ruthlessness; he wanted more than just a lesson!
"That's enough..." The veins on his arm bulged... He wanted the Wildling... Sir Harlan's expression froze instantly, his eyes filled with shock and pain, as if he couldn't believe this sudden turn of events.
Gryn's lance plunged first into his opponent's chest, his horse still galloping, while Sir Harlan remained "hanging" on the lance.
Clatter, clatter... clatter... clatter... clatter... The horses slowed down and began to pace. Suddenly, Gryn raised the lance impaled on Sir Harlan's body with one hand, the nearly five-meter-long shaft showing a noticeable curve.
Lord Gryn then hurled Sir Harlan directly toward Bronze Yohn.
With a bang, the splashed mud even landed on Bronze Yohn.
With a flick of his cloak embroidered with Marsh Marigold, Gryn's voice rang out. " Vale people, Kleber's bugle call has sounded! War!"