I want to churn out troops!

Titus kept at it.

He also learned from Wenda "White Stag" how several other leaders of the Brotherhood had ended up.

Their leader, Simon Toyne, and Dinisa, the "Smiling Knight," the finest fighter in the Kingswood, had long since died beneath the swords of two members of the Kingsguard, so there was little more to say about them.

An archer named Ullma had chosen to join the Night's Watch to avoid being executed on the spot. By now, he was probably still on the long road to the Wall.

Oswin, the Ironborn who had survived three hangings, seemed to have some luck on his side. Whenever disaster struck, he always managed to escape in the end.

He thought his luck was terrible, since he kept finding himself in danger, but everyone else thought the fellow was practically luck incarnate.

There was also Bane, known as "Big Belly." He had died fighting a rearguard action in the battle in the Kingswood, covering Wenda and Oswin's escape from encirclement. He had been a real man.

Titus discovered that the tutors Earl Cavron had hired really had taught Wenda a great deal. It was just that she had put much of that knowledge of civil and military affairs to use running the Brotherhood.

Wenda had spent her childhood busy learning and teaching.

But once Earl Cavron had a legitimate son of his own, everything had begun to change... that was another story.

After hearing about Wenda's childhood and some of her experiences in the Kingswood, Titus offered no comfort. Instead, he joked:

"From now on, when you want to scare your enemies, you can use the story of how you lost your eye... make something up. Throw in that irresponsible father of yours, and it'll work even better..."

Before Wenda could respond, Titus spread his hands, his tone languid.

"Frankly, my dear, I don't care about those little stories from your past. Even if your father still loved you dearly, I don't think Fawn Hall has the strength to help Starpike, much less that I should make an exception and let you off because of it.

Remember what I told you-

Everything carried away by the wind belongs to yesterday. Only what survives the wind and rain can face the future..."

That was enough for today. Titus rose, leaving Wenda alone to think over his words.

"After all, tomorrow is another day."

Bang.

The door to the torture chamber slammed shut, like the scene-transition sound effect in that anime about the schoolboy detective of death.

As it happened, Gino was coming out of the next room too. The centurion had just been having a locked-room reunion with his friend Oswin, while also trying to persuade him to switch sides and submit.

"How did it go?" Even in the gloomy dungeon corridor, Titus remained perfectly at ease. Leaning against the wall, he asked how the centurion's conversation had gone.

If he succeeded over there, wouldn't my progress look a little embarrassing?

Fortunately, the results had been less than ideal. Centurion Gino began his report helplessly, not forgetting to put in a good word for his friend:

"He may be Ironborn, but he's an unusual one. Very loyal to his friends... Oswin said White Stag saved him twice. If not for her, the guards at Fellwood would have hanged him long ago... He says he'll do whatever White Stag says."

Fellwood was the ancestral seat of House Fell in the Stormlands, northwest of Storm's End and southeast of the Kingswood, beside the Kingsroad not far from the Wendwater. Because of their proximity, their lands had often suffered harassment from the Kingswood Brotherhood.

So he owed her his life?

Titus smiled, thinking that this female bandit chief commanded considerable respect.

"What did the other three say?"

"We didn't torture them. They were very cooperative."

As Gino spoke, an odd expression appeared on his face. "Parker just got their real names out of them. Andy, Gordon, and Jamie. Not one has a surname. I'm afraid they're only minor players in the Brotherhood."

Minor players?

There are no small parts, only small actors. Put your heart into it, and anywhere can be a stage.

He learned from Gino that, of the three "musketeers," the one with the hooked nose was Andy, who claimed an ancestor had served in the Gold Cloaks; the boy from the east with the Vale accent was Gordon; and the last, the unremarkable dark-skinned lad Jamie, came from a family that had once been in business...

Perhaps afraid of torture, the three lads had spilled everything about eighteen generations of their ancestors before Parker had even done much questioning... assuming they really had eighteen generations.

In any case, according to their own accounts, each had suffered a tragic, tear-jerking ordeal that had left him no choice but to turn bandit. Not one had taken to banditry willingly.

Titus rubbed his chin, a new wicked idea popping up every second.

"My lord?"

Titus came back to himself, smiled at Gino, then turned and led him out of the gloomy dungeon beneath Starpike.

Centurion Gino followed quietly behind him, every stride so uniform it might have been measured with a ruler. He had all the bearing of an active-duty soldier.

That sort of military bearing was quite rare anywhere in Westeros.

In fact, on this continent, one seldom even heard the term "professional soldier."

The lords drew their troops primarily from the commoners in their domains. Castle guards might have better equipment, but their daily duties amounted to protecting their lord and maintaining order. Most were men who had gotten their posts through connections, bullying the weak and fearing the strong. When actual fighting came, they might not even manage to deal properly with bandits, so how much better could they be than peasant levies?

The more organized and larger forces were the city watches of the five great cities: King's Landing, Oldtown, Lannisport, Gulltown, and White Harbor.

As the cities' standing forces, they numbered at least a thousand each, had standardized equipment, and drilled regularly. They must have been fairly capable when first established, but the peculiar environment of their cities provided all too fertile ground for dereliction of duty.

Drawing pay for nonexistent soldiers, embezzling military funds, taking and demanding bribes, selling posts... Titus would not have been surprised in the least by how quickly members of the city watches became corrupt.

In his view, only two kinds of soldiers in Westeros qualified as "professionals," one in the north and one in the south: the Night's Watch rangers stationed at the Wall, and the various household corps the lords of the Dornish Marches had built up through money and actual combat.

The former were the main fighting force of the black-clad order, numbering only a few hundred. Selected as the best among recruits of uneven quality, they possessed a certain degree of fighting ability and horsemanship.

They frequently had to venture far Beyond the Wall, serving as the main fighting force against the Wildlings beyond it, who called themselves the "Free Folk."

The Dornish Marches, meanwhile, had their own local circumstances.

The lords here had always faced a more pressing threat of war than the nobles in the continent's central regions.

Even though relations with Dorne had been peaceful in recent years, many tribes in the Red Mountains still frequently encroached on the territory of the Dornish Marches.

Only the Seven knew whether the Dornish lords on the other side of the mountains were secretly supporting those tribes...

Lost in thought along the way, Titus returned to the East Study in the Main Keep, then summoned Starpike's master-at-arms, David Robinson.

"Ser, I've decided to raise more troops and expand the Pikemen Corps."

David Robinson had no objections whatsoever.

He was the most senior of the castle's retainers, and also the best at training recruits.

Gino, who accompanied them, was a soldier through and through. He likewise would not concern himself with the funds needed to train troops.

The lifelong nemesis of Oswin, "the man who survived three hangings":