Funding

"Alright, this is as far as we go."

Early the next morning, at the gates of Highgarden, Lord Randyll stopped his eldest son.

Samwell halted and smiled.

"Father, Dickon, take care on the road."

Dickon stepped forward and gave Samwell a bear hug.

"Brother, remember to come visit me at Horn Hill often!"

Remembering his father's warning not to return, Samwell's mouth twitched. He could only nod perfunctorily at his younger brother.

Lord Randyll had Dickon and the guards leave first, while he remained behind.

Seeing this, Samwell knew his father still had something to say.

Sure enough, after a moment of silence, Randyll said:

"Be careful of the women of House Tyrell."

Samwell was startled.

Before he could speak, Randyll continued:

"They are clever, but they often fail to see their own place."

Having said that, Randyll offered no further explanation and turned to leave.

Samwell watched his father's party recede into the distance, deep in thought.

When he had watched the television series, he had not paid much attention to Lord Randyll. He only remembered that the man was an exceptional commander.

But after this encounter, Samwell realized that the lord of Horn Hill was far more inscrutable than he appeared.

The man disliked intrigue and never involved himself in the contest for the Iron Throne. He seemed to be nothing more than a loyal and formidable enforcer beneath House Tyrell.

Yet upon thinking it over carefully, Samwell realized that this low-profile Lord Randyll had later slipped quietly into the royal cabinet and become the kingdom's Master of Laws.

A man like that could not possibly be good at nothing but warfare.

And his warning just now had surely been prompted by what Olenna, the Queen of Thorns, had said at last night's feast.

Though Lord Randyll had already given up on his eldest son, he still did not want him to be used by the women of House Tyrell.

In truth, Samwell would have remained wary even without Randyll's warning.

After all, he knew full well that the men of House Tyrell were relatively mediocre in politics, while those women—especially Olenna, the Queen of Thorns, and Margaery, the Rose of Highgarden, that grandmother-granddaughter pair—were high-level players in this game of power.

They had sought him out this time because they surely wanted something.

Still, Samwell was not overly concerned.

After all, he knew the course of events and understood the temperaments and ambitions of House Tyrell's women perfectly. In contrast, they still believed Samwell to be a weak, worthless coward rejected by his own father.

That gap in information was his opportunity!

With that thought, Samwell composed himself and returned to the castle.

Led by a maid, he arrived at a courtyard where Olenna, the Queen of Thorns, was waiting for him.

The moment he entered, Samwell noticed that Margaery was there as well.

The Rose of Highgarden stood amid the rosebushes, her fair, slender hand holding a freshly cut golden rose as she placed it into a flower basket that was already more than half finished.

Margaery was focused at the moment. Her elegant, straight nose and softly pressed red lips gave her a tranquil, delicate air. Though she stood in a corner of the courtyard, she made it seem as though she were its very center.

Hearing Samwell's footsteps, Margaery turned and gave him a radiant smile, then lifted the flower basket and walked toward him.

"Sam, what do you think of this flower basket I made?"

Samwell placed a hand over his chest and bowed. "It is as beautiful as you are!"

"Then it is yours, my knight."

Samwell hurriedly accepted it, lowered his head in thanks, and acted as though he dared not look into the Maiden's eyes.

Following behind Margaery, Samwell entered the pavilion in the courtyard.

Olenna was drinking honeyflower tea in the pavilion. She looked at Samwell with a smile and gestured with one hand.

"Sit, young knight."

Samwell stepped forward and bowed before taking a seat opposite Olenna.

"Lady Olenna, may I ask why you summoned me?"

"Of course, it is about the direction of your expansion. If you have not yet decided on a destination, you may hear my suggestion."

"Please, go on."

Olenna unfolded a map she had prepared beforehand and spread it across the table. Then she drew a circle on it.

"I suggest you try expanding here."

Samwell studied it closely and saw that the place Olenna indicated lay in the southern Reach, at the western foot of the Red Mountains, on the northern shore of the Summer Sea, near the mouth of the Torrentine River.

"This place..." Samwell rubbed his chin and asked humbly, "My lady, why do you suggest that I expand here?"

Olenna took a light sip of her flower tea and smiled.

"The only major unclaimed lands left within the Reach are mainly in the Red Mountains. The place I have indicated is near the mouth of the Torrentine River, which will also make it convenient for you to develop maritime trade in the future."

Samwell nodded, though he still appeared hesitant.

"But my lady, the Red Mountains are full of lofty peaks and steep ridges. I am afraid it would not be easy to build a castle there..."

Olenna smiled faintly.

"Have you forgotten where Casterly Rock and the Eyrie were built? Building a castle in the mountains may be difficult, but once completed, it is easier to defend. Besides, a great many Free Folk live in the Red Mountains. They despise the Reach nobility and refuse to become our subjects. But if you can win their support, you will not need to worry about population for your domain."

Samwell knew that the Free Folk Lady Olenna spoke of were actually the Wildlings who lived in the Red Mountains. Descendants of the Andals and the First Men, they were dark-skinned and small in stature. Unwilling to submit to the rule of lords, they hid in the vast, sprawling Red Mountains, forming primitive tribes that lived by gathering and hunting. They also often came down from the mountains to raid nearby villages and towns.

The Reach lords near the Red Mountains had tried many times to wipe out these Wildlings, but every attempt had ended in failure.

The Red Mountains were simply too vast. Once the Wildlings hid within them, no one could find them. Then, as soon as the lords' armies withdrew, they would emerge again to plunder freely. It was endlessly frustrating.

These Wildlings who hated the Reachmen were also one of Samwell's greatest obstacles in this expansion.

Of course, as Lady Olenna put it, if Samwell could subdue these Wildlings, they would also become the greatest source of population for his new domain.

Samwell awkwardly scratched the back of his head and put on a timid expression.

"But my lady... I fear that if I go there, those vicious Wildlings in the Red Mountains will tear me apart alive before I can even gain a foothold..."

"House Tarly has always produced outstanding warriors. I believe you will not disappoint me." Before Samwell could speak, Olenna immediately added, "Do not worry. House Tyrell has long wanted to deal with those Wildlings as well. So, if you accept my proposal, I will select a hundred soldiers from the family guard to accompany you in your expansion."

Samwell's eyes immediately lit up, and he swallowed the refusal he had been about to make.

In truth, the moment he saw the place Olenna had pointed out, Samwell had already formed an initial guess about the Queen of Thorns' intentions.

She wanted to use him and control him, but did Samwell not also wish to rely on House Tyrell's power to establish his domain?

A hundred soldiers were far too important to him at this point. Of course, more would have been even better...

So Samwell continued to hunch his shoulders and stammered, "My lady, a hundred soldiers... isn't that a little too few..."

"And you think that is too few?" Olenna grew somewhat impatient. "In the distant Age of Heroes, when Garth Greenhand came to Highgarden to establish it, he did not even have a hundred people at his side!"

Seeing this, Margaery smiled and spoke as well.

"Sam, I believe that with your abilities, you can certainly carve out a domain here! How about this? I have some personal savings. I will give them all to support you."

As she spoke, Margaery truly took out a dark green money pouch and stuffed it into Samwell's arms.

Feeling the heavy pouch, Samwell immediately put on a deeply encouraged expression and thumped his chest, declaring that he would certainly not disappoint Lady Olenna and Lady Margaery.

Only then did Olenna smile in satisfaction. Pleased, she even instructed the steward to prepare five Golden-Tailed Shrimp for Samwell to take away.

Naturally, Samwell refused nothing and accepted them without hesitation.

After Samwell left, Margaery sat beside her grandmother, affectionately wrapping an arm around hers.

"Grandmother, why did you have Sam expand there?"

"If you do not even know my intentions, why did you contribute your own savings as well?"

Margaery swayed her grandmother's arm and said coquettishly:

"Helping Grandmother carry out her plans is what I should do. Why the plan exists is not important. Listening to you cannot possibly be wrong."

"You little rascal!" Olenna laughed and tapped her granddaughter's nose. "Then try to guess my purpose."

Margaery's gaze swept over the map. "It should be for Dorne, right?"

"Clever." Olenna nodded approvingly.

"Then why not send a brave knight to establish the domain? Why let someone like Samwell..."

"It is indeed an important location, but it is also barren land with little yield. With Wildling raids and Dorne so close by, it would be difficult to establish a domain through ordinary means. Therefore, I need to borrow the name of this discarded son of House Tarly to employ certain less-than-honorable methods." Olenna's explanation was somewhat vague.

But Margaery frowned. "Grandmother, using someone from House Tarly like this... isn't that a little inappropriate?"

"What is inappropriate about it? A piece of trash abandoned by his own family—without our support, do you truly think he could establish a domain on his own? Of course, our support is not free, but that is simply the price he ought to pay."

Olenna looked out at the lush courtyard beyond the pavilion. After a long while, she sighed.

"The more beautiful the rose, the more it needs sharp thorns. If I do not do certain things, should I expect your foolish father to do them instead?"