Game of Thrones: The Witcher System

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"What are you going to Winterfell for?" Lord Wyman stroked his chin, which was covered in graying white whiskers, and asked his granddaughter with a puzzled look.

Clay could tell by the surprised expression on Wynafryd's face that Wylla hadn't mentioned anything to anyone before.

"Isn't Clay going to meet Lord Eddard? Maybe he'll even become friends with his sons. I'm just going to make friends with Miss Sansa," Wylla responded confidently.

She wasn't wrong, though. Her older sister, Wynafryd, had been taken to Winterfell several times by Lord Wyman over the past few years. According to her sister, she had become good friends with Sansa Stark, the eldest daughter of House Stark, and they even did embroidery together.

Unintentionally, the speaker's words seemed to have planted a seed in Wylla's mind the moment she heard Clay return.

"Stop causing trouble and stay put!" Wylla's father, Wylis, scolded his daughter while blowing on his bushy beard. This large man, who resembled a bear, seemed completely unsure of how to communicate with his daughter.

Clay found it amusing when he saw Wylla puffing out her cheeks and tugging on her braids. He was about to offer a few words of support to her when his gaze fell on the old man's thoughtful expression, and he swallowed his words back down.

Seeing the head of the family remain silent, everyone stopped eating and drinking. The vast hall of the Merman Court fell into a hushed stillness.

To everyone's surprise, after a moment of thought, Lord Wyman, who was usually very opposed to girls running off on their own, actually agreed.

"Alright, Clay, take her with you and keep an eye on her."

Clay was taken aback. Although surprised, he quickly nodded to avoid another painful kick to his foot.

He couldn't quite grasp Lord Wyman's intentions were. In such a large noble house, where one appeared and with whom they appeared was always of great significance, especially for women. It often signaled potential marriage alliances between noble families.

Lord Wyman had been head of the family for decades, and his thoughts were impossible to predict. However, one thing was clear to everyone: the sisters, Wylla and Wynafryd, who had already started their monthly cycles, would never marry someone beneath the Manderly family's status.

Was the old man trying to have Wylla present herself more in front of Robb Stark? If that was the case, he must have had the same intention when he took Wynafryd to Winterfell years ago. Was he still holding on to that hope?

Clay wasn't sure, but it wasn't something he needed to worry about for now.

---

Two days later, By the White Knife River.

"Take this wine and give it to the master-at-arms in Winterfell, Ser Rodrik. Tell him it's to settle my gambling debt."

Wendel Manderly waved his hand and patted his son's back as he gave instructions about the people he knew in Winterfell.

Clay, along with Wylla and ten brightly armored guards, then made their way north along the White Knife River.

If all went smoothly, they would reach Moat Cailin in half a month, then travel along the King's Road. With fast horses, they'd reach Winterfell in just half a day's ride.

The river flowed gently, its waters shimmering like a silver ribbon under the morning sun. The vast, green plains of the north still had its charm in the midsummer, offering much to see and appreciate.

Behind Clay, on the snow-white horse, Wylla, having left the castle, was shouting excitedly, completely different from her older sister Wynafryd's graceful demeanor.

"Sit steady, don't fall off your horse," Clay reminded her.

"Oh, I know, I know! Stop nagging like Granny," Wylla replied nonchalantly, her laughter ringing like a silver bell across the empty riverside.

Clay smiled and decided not to bother with her.

His attention shifted to the family guards, who protected them at the center. These heavily armored soldiers, bearing the Manderly family's merman crest on their shields, were the Manderly family's heavy cavalry.

Though most soldiers in the North wore chainmail due to the region's limited economic means, making full plate armor expensive, the Manderly family, with their wealth from owning the fifth-largest city in Westeros, didn't face such constraints. As far as Clay knew, the family's armory could equip more than 1,500 knights with full plate armor at a moment's notice.

When Clay first learned this, he couldn't understand why such a powerful force had remained hidden during the War of the Five Kings.

Why had Lord Wyman allowed one of his two sons to be imprisoned and the other to die with Robb Stark at the Red Wedding? Even when Jon Snow led the assault on Winterfell, this force had remained inactive. What was he planning?

It's worth noting that if this force had joined the battle when Tywin Lannister was bogged down by Robb Stark in the Riverlands, the 1,500 cavalry from the North could have swiftly maneuvered south, striking directly at King's Landing. The war might have ended right there, sparing them from all the subsequent troubles.

Clay realized that, including his own family, these great noble houses with legacies spanning hundreds or even thousands of years in Westeros surely had far more secrets hidden beneath the surface than he could ever imagine. He couldn't make rash decisions based solely on his impressions.

One thing Wylla hadn't been wrong about at the banquet was that Clay indeed wanted to meet with Eddard Stark and his family during this trip to Winterfell.

As the third-generation heir of the Manderly family, Clay was inevitably bound to take part in the North's affairs.

The harshness of the North and the Stark family's devotion to the Old Gods had forged the Starks into a resilient and steadfast people. However, it was clear that they lacked sufficient political awareness.

Just look at the series of absurd decisions that Eddard and Robb Stark made later on. It was evident that they bore an undeniable responsibility for the ruin of the North's favorable position.

That said, while they were poor politicians, they were still competent leaders. At least Clay would prefer them over those twisted, skin-peeling maniacs from the Dreadfort ruling the North.

It wasn't something that required urgency, but with Wylla wandering around, what was supposed to be a fifteen-day journey stretched into a full twenty days.

On the evening of the twentieth day, they finally saw the grey-black fortress standing on the horizon, bathed in the golden light of the sunset.

From afar, the sound of a horn rang through the air.

Accompanied by the thunder of hooves, three warhorses bearing knights clad in full chainmail armor, led by a flag bearing the direwolf banner fluttering in the wind, rode up in front of everyone.

The lead knight recognized the Manderly family's merman flag from a distance and showed no sign of hostility. He called out loudly:

"Friends from White Harbor, welcome to Winterfell."

This was essentially an inquiry into what Clay and his group were here for, as it was the responsibility of the Stark family's scouts.

The knight was quite perceptive, quickly discerning the two figures protected in the center, dressed in fine clothing—Clay and Wylla. His earlier greeting had clearly been directed toward them.

Clay knew it was his turn to speak, so he nudged his horse forward, and his guards naturally made way for him.

"I am Clay Manderly, here to meet with Lord Stark, the Warden of the North."

Though the Manderly family didn't have a young man by this name, no one in the North would dare misuse the Manderly family banner.

The knight nodded, gave his horse a nudge, and said, "Lord Stark is inside the castle. I will take you to him. Follow me."

Following the direwolf banner, Winterfell gradually drew closer. Just as the last rays of the setting sun faded, Clay and his group passed through the great gates of Winterfell.

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[Chapter End's]

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