Viscount Brandon

Sunhouse was the domain of House Cuy.

They were said to be descendants of the Andals, granted this land by House Gardener over four thousand years ago.

House Cuy's sigil was six yellow roses on a blue field. It looked somewhat similar to House Tyrell's banner, but in truth, they were vassals of House Hightower of Oldtown.

Its current lord was Viscount Brandon Cuy.

He was a tall, middle-aged man, impeccably dressed, with black hair streaked with gray combed into perfect order. He sat solemnly in the seat of honor in the reception hall.

"Ser Caesar, you are rather different from what I imagined."

Samwell took a small sip of wine and smiled.

"My lord, what did you imagine me to be like?"

Viscount Brandon smiled as well, dropping his solemn facade.

"I heard you were fat."

Samwell gave a wry smile and shrugged.

"Hard pioneering is the best weight-loss remedy."

More than half a year had passed since Samwell's arrival in this world, and his efforts to lose weight had indeed borne remarkable results.

His former bloated physique had vanished completely. Now, he was well-proportioned, tall, and sturdy, carrying himself with a vigorous, heroic air. Beneath his long, sharp brows lay a pair of deep eyes, as calm as the sea before a storm.

Viscount Brandon had seen countless people, yet this was the first time he had found himself unable to see through a young knight not even twenty years old.

Especially when that young knight was the infamous good-for-nothing of the Reach's noble circles. Back then, many had speculated how long it would take before he came fleeing back from the Red Mountains in disgrace and became a wandering knight.

Yet as Viscount Brandon looked at Samwell before him, he felt the young man was like a steel sword hidden in its scabbard—deep and restrained, yet concealing a keen edge.

Viscount Brandon had only seen such steadiness, cold sharpness, and confidence in a handful of veteran commanders who had dominated the battlefield.

Among them was Earl Randyll Tarly.

Viscount Brandon had taken part in the War of the Usurper. Even now, he could not forget Earl Randyll's invincible bearing and valiant presence. Even the incomparable Robert Baratheon had paled beside him.

And now, Viscount Brandon saw a shadow of that father in Samwell.

How could Randyll Tarly bear to drive such a son from his home?

Viscount Brandon raised his wine cup and took a sip, using the moment to gather his thoughts.

"How is the pioneering effort going? Those Wildlings in the Red Mountains cannot be easy to deal with, can they?"

"Yes, those Wildlings have certainly been troublesome." Samwell put on a troubled expression. "There are too many prisoners. I have been worrying over how to settle them."

"Cough, cough, cough..." Viscount Brandon actually choked on Samwell's shameless display of modesty.

After catching his breath, he asked, "How many prisoners did you capture?"

"A little over ten thousand."

"How many?" Viscount Brandon thought he had misheard.

"There should be more than twelve thousand. Last month, I fought the Wildlings twice. Thanks to the blessings of the Seven, both battles ended in sweeping victories. Thus, all fourteen tribes near Eagle's Beak have submitted to me, and all their people have become my subjects."

Viscount Brandon frowned deeply, thinking the other man was boasting. His opinion of him immediately dropped considerably, but he still asked another question.

"How many soldiers did you bring with you for this pioneering venture?"

"House Tyrell sent one hundred elite soldiers, and I recruited a little over one hundred new recruits myself. Oh, and this Ser Todd Flowers was also a great contributor to this campaign."

Todd, standing behind Samwell, dipped slightly and offered Viscount Brandon a salute.

When Viscount Brandon heard that Samwell had brought so few men, half of them recruits at that, he became even more convinced that the young man was boasting.

But upon seeing Todd Flowers, he was no longer so certain.

He had heard of Todd Flowers. He knew the man was a bastard from Arbor and a knight loyal to House Tyrell.

Such a man should not be helping Samwell tell lies.

Yet such achievements were still difficult for Viscount Brandon to believe.

He had thought he had already held this pioneering knight in high regard, but unexpectedly, the young man was even more formidable than he had imagined.

Could another Randyll Tarly be emerging in the Reach?

Samwell seemed to notice the doubt in Viscount Brandon's eyes, so he gave Chiman behind him a meaningful look.

Understanding at once, Chiman picked up the wooden box at his feet and placed it on the long table before Viscount Brandon.

"What is this?"

"A small gift for you."

Viscount Brandon opened the wooden box, and his gaze immediately sharpened.

Inside lay a human head!

Samwell explained, "This is the head of the Chieftain of the Tiger Tooth Tribe."

Sunhouse lay south of the Red Mountains, so Viscount Brandon naturally knew of the strongest tribe in the nearby mountains.

Seeing the necklace of fangs beside the head, Viscount Brandon believed Samwell's earlier words a little more.

"It seems your pioneering venture truly taught the Wildlings in these mountains a harsh lesson! I like this gift very much." Viscount Brandon smiled. After all, with those Wildlings cleared out, his own lands would no longer suffer their raids.

Seeing that the viscount had failed to grasp his true intention, Samwell smiled and added, "My lord, have you forgotten? The chieftain of the Tiger Tooth Tribe killed a Hightower many years ago."

"Oh?" Viscount Brandon froze for a moment, then seemed to recall the old matter. The smile on his face immediately became warmer. "I remember now! That is right. Back then, I led two hundred household soldiers to the Red Mountains with Earl Leyton, hoping to capture that Wildling stained with Hightower blood. Unfortunately, those fellows were like rats, hiding here and there. We could not find a trace of them. I never expected you to kill him!"

Samwell smiled faintly.

"I must hurry to Arbor, so I would like to ask you to help deliver this head to Oldtown and pass it on to House Hightower."

Although Samwell himself would soon be visiting Oldtown, he still chose to have Viscount Brandon deliver it on his behalf.

Viscount Brandon was a vassal of House Hightower, the lords of Oldtown, and he had participated in the matter back then. Having him deliver it was equivalent to one gift earning him two favors.

Both House Hightower and House Cuy would have cause to thank him.

"Of course, no problem!" As expected, Viscount Brandon's gaze toward Samwell grew even friendlier.

What a sensible young man!

Brave, skilled in battle, and so thoughtful—Viscount Brandon truly could not understand why the nobles of the Reach all considered Samwell a good-for-nothing.

Were they all blind?

The more Viscount Brandon looked at Samwell, the more pleasing he found him. Then he suddenly remembered that he had an unmarried daughter, and an idea arose in his mind.

"Ser Caesar, you have traveled a long way and must be tired. Why not rest first? I have already had a dinner prepared. We can dine together shortly."

Looking at Viscount Brandon's beaming face, Samwell thought to himself that his gift had indeed been well chosen. The next step, seeking investment, should be all but certain. He rose gladly and smiled.

"It would be my honor!"