Each with Their Own Schemes

The Riverlands were always muddy in autumn.

Even after the sunlight dispersed the morning fog, thick mud still covered the River Road, making every step the horses took a heavy one.

The sun had only just climbed overhead when a wagon laden with plunder sank deep into the mire, forcing the entire party to halt again.

Taking the opportunity, Corleone began changing Vargo Hoat's bandages under the watch of two members of the Brave Companions.

Vargo slumped between two trees. One was an oak, and the other was also an oak.

Why describe them separately? Because that padded the word count a little.

The party grew subdued in the afternoon.

Farther down the road, Urswyck was shouting orders at his men, trying to lift the wheel out of the mud. Their heaving cries sounded rather feeble in the damp air.

At the sound, Vargo suddenly shuddered, his dizziness growing worse.

More clearly than ever, he felt something inside him slipping uncontrollably through his fingers like shifting sand.

That helplessness frightened him even more than facing swords.

"Zoro!" Vargo growled hoarsely at his trusted man.

"Tell them to hurry the fuck up! They're not whores who've taken twenty customers in a row and can't stand on their own legs!"

He instinctively longed to get back behind Harrenhal's solid walls as soon as possible. Only under Qyburn's treatment could he feel a shred of security.

The fat man named Zoro left to carry out his orders, leaving only Yego and Corleone beside him.

Vargo's bloodshot eyes stared fixedly at Corleone. He lowered his voice as much as he could, though he could not suppress the irritation in his tone. "Why do I feel worse? How's my wound, doctor?"

"It's healing very poorly, my lord."

Corleone deftly unwound the bandages, their edges already soaked with yellow-green stains.

But he concealed nothing, answering with complete professionalism and honesty, "There are already signs of severe infection. It's more aggressive than expected."

"You quack!"

Vargo flew into a rage, leaning forward in agitation and grabbing Corleone by the collar. "Have you even been treating me properly?"

At that, just the right amount of weariness and a trace of hurt appeared on Corleone's face. "My lord, I swear by the Seven that I've done everything I can."

"But you forced the dead tissue back into place and drank while running a high fever. That is nothing short of actively embracing the Stranger."

"All I can do now is slow the infection in your wound."

"Slow it? You swore you could cure me!"

Vargo sneered, the doubt in his eyes instantly replaced by murderous intent.

He jabbed a finger at Corleone and roared at Yego, "I've had enough!"

"Kill this quack! Now!"

Without a moment's hesitation, the silent Yego deftly drew the longsword Vargo had given him and stepped forward, subtly placing himself between Corleone and Vargo.

"Boss!!!"

Just then, Urswyck's voice rang out at the right moment.

He had been watching what was happening over here. Seeing Vargo draw a sword, he immediately abandoned his companions pushing the wagon and strode over, his face wreathed in a falsely concerned smile.

"How are you feeling?"

"You look awful. Should you rest a little longer?"

But Vargo ignored his greetings entirely and merely repeated his order. "Kill him, Yego!"

Yego raised his arm, but Urswyck stepped forward again to put himself between him and Corleone, pleading earnestly, "Don't, boss!"

"You still need a doctor for your wound. Even if this fellow isn't much of one, he's far better than us amateurs. If you kill him now, what will we do if your wound gets worse on the road?"

As he spoke, he leaned toward Vargo and made a show of whispering into his ear. "If you ask me, we might as well wait until we reach Harrenhal. Once Maester Qyburn takes over, there'll still be time to flay him."

Urswyck spoke with great sincerity, as though he truly had his commander Vargo's interests at heart in every respect.

Yet his words immediately aroused Vargo's suspicions, his uncertain gaze shifting back and forth between Corleone and Urswyck.

Urswyck, who had always been so ruthless, was actually taking the initiative to defend this quack so eagerly?

Along with the dizziness of his high fever, a surge of fury at being betrayed rushed straight to his head!

"The wagon... how much longer?"

Suppressing the urge to kill, Vargo asked in a low voice through gritted teeth.

At that, Urswyck looked troubled and shook his head. "Ah, it's sunk too deep!"

"The mud's gripping the wheel tighter than that old maid from Tarth. It'll probably take a while yet. I'm afraid even by nightfall-"

"Then what the fuck... are you still doing here?"

Vargo cut him off sharply, berating him without the slightest consideration. "Get over there and help! Do you want us spending the winter in these bloody woods?"

Urswyck froze at those words, his right hand tightening around his sword, before he broke into another grin. "On my way, boss!"

Unable to linger any longer, he turned away resentfully, slipping Corleone a long, discreet look that carried a hint of "you're on your own."

Corleone gave a slight, composed nod, which Vargo "just happened" to see clearly.

He was immediately certain.

This damned quack must already be in league with Urswyck!

What were they planning?

Vargo narrowed his eyes slightly, a cold curve forming at the corner of his mouth, as though what had just happened had been nothing but a misunderstanding.

"Well then, doctor."

His voice low, he questioned Corleone again. "In your opinion, what would be the best thing to do in my current condition?"

"My recommendation, my lord."

Yet Corleone showed no fear at all. He met Vargo's eyes sincerely and gave an answer Vargo had not expected.

"You would be best off leaving the cumbersome main party behind and riding hard for Harrenhal with only Yego and me."

"The infection and fever are progressing too quickly. We must hurry. We may still be able to get more professional treatment and bring it under control before your condition deteriorates completely."

Vargo did not reply immediately, instead studying Corleone with an icy gaze.

He had thought the man would agree with Urswyck's suggestion and keep stalling, but he had never expected...

Was this an attempt to send me away?

Then split all the loot gathered along the way with Urswyck?

Heh...

What a shortsighted bunch.

Vargo snorted inwardly in contempt. They didn't even have the courage to mutiny, only thinking of the profits right in front of them?

He became even more convinced that this was a conspiracy.

But he could not simply cut Corleone down either. That would be no different from openly breaking with Urswyck at once, and if he drove the man to desperation, the risk would be considerable.

An idea gradually took shape in Vargo's mind.

He stopped looking at Corleone, as though the man were already dead, and merely waved a hand, saying coldly, "It seems this is as far as your medical skills can take you."

"Get lost. Stop hovering in front of me."

As he spoke, Vargo pointed toward the two captives. "Perhaps you can use those mediocre medical skills of yours to look at the Kingslayer's injuries. Of course, if you treat him to death... hah!"

At that, Corleone silently packed up his medical tools and stood, looking somewhat hesitant, as though he wanted to say something.

But he said nothing more. Under Yego's watchful gaze, he turned toward Jaime and Brienne. The shadows of the leaves covered half his face, obscuring his expression and hiding the slight upward curve of his lips.

Good advice could hardly dissuade someone bent on dying.

As a professional doctor, he had already given Vargo Hoat the best advice possible. If the patient refused to listen, there was nothing he could do.

After all, doctor-patient relations had always been difficult to manage, and Westeros was no exception.

Beneath the oak, Vargo stared fixedly at Corleone's retreating back, a cold light flickering in his eyes.

After considering for a moment, he turned toward Yego and motioned for him to bend down, then said quietly, "Keep a close eye on that quack. And..."

"Quietly tell Zoro, Timon, Pagg, and the others to find a chance tonight to kill Urswyck and those three newcomers outright!"