Game of Thrones: The Impaler of the Blue Fork

Chapter 21: The Twin Towers' Calculations and the Eagle's Tacit Understanding

The Twins, this massive fortress spanning the Green Fork River, is perpetually shrouded in a cold, damp atmosphere. The scent of moss seeping from the cracks in the stone bricks mingles with the fishy smell of the river, swirling within the enclosed stone bridge.

In a spacious study in the east tower of the castle, Stevieren Frey sat behind a carved oak table. As the eldest son and heir of the Marquis of Walder Frey, he was over fifty, with a receding hairline and heavy eye bags, looking like a weary old clerk. But throughout the Riverlands, no one dared underestimate those perpetually squinting eyes—he was more shrewd and calculating than his hot-tempered father, and knew better how to squeeze money from the cracks between the lords.

Raymond stood before the desk, head bowed, cold sweat trickling down his forehead and into his collar. At his feet lay Gegen, the bandit leader, bound tightly with thick hemp rope. A rag soaked with sweat was stuffed in Gegen's mouth, and every muffled whimper he emitted pounded on Raymond's fragile nerves.

The lamp on the table flickered slightly, illuminating the confession bearing a bloody handprint and the small calfskin purse with the twin towers emblem.

Steve Ren didn't look at the kneeling pirate. His slender fingers lightly fiddled with the silver deer in his money pouch, producing a crisp clinking sound. The rapid frequency of the metallic clinking sounded particularly jarring in the deathly silent room.

"Tethos Blackwood tried to bribe you, hoping to use you to cut off the waterway upstream of the Blue Fork. And you, my dear nephew, for the sake of the family's interests, pretended to accept the deposit and colluded with that young knight Hohenzollern to seize the raven's claws."

Steve Ren slowly repeated the "script" that Raymond had recited. His tone was flat and monotone, as if he were checking a trivial account.

"Uncle... that's how it is." Raymond swallowed hard, trying his best to suppress the trembling in his voice. "Tethos not only wants to block the waterways, he even wants to take advantage of our negligence to rob the tribute silver of the Sea Frontier City. This is an open provocation against the reputation of the Twin Towers."

Steve Ren raised his eyelids and gave Raymond a deep look. That look made Raymond feel as if a cold dagger was pressed against his spine.

As a cunning old fox who had been immersed in family infighting for fifty years, how could he not see through this flawed explanation? That money bag was clearly Raymond's personal item. Raymond had definitely been secretly accepting bribes behind the family's back, only to be double-crossed and caught in his weakness.

But Steve didn't expose him. In the political yardstick, the truth is the most worthless junk; only the bargaining chips are worth weighing.

"You mean that little knight named Otto, to thank you for helping him clear up the trouble on the water, voluntarily set aside one-tenth of the net profit from his silver mine each year as a 'waterway security tax' to be paid to the Twins?" Stevieren's fingertips stopped on the money pouch, no longer fiddling with it.

“Yes, Uncle! As long as we send two patrol boats to conduct routine patrols upstream, this money will be delivered to the family treasury on time every month!” Raymond quickly added as if he had grasped a lifeline. “Moreover, he acknowledged in the letter that this area of ​​water belongs to the Frey family’s ‘police jurisdiction’.”

Steveren's eyes narrowed slightly, a glint of light flashing deep within his pupils.

This was what he truly cared about. A tenth of the silver was tempting, but "police jurisdiction" was a weapon that could legally humiliate the Blackwood family. Tethos's recent erection of a fence along the border had already displeased old Walder, and since Hohenzollern was willing to pay a toll in exchange for the Frey banner, any attack on this transport route would be seen as a provocation against the Freys' right to tax.

"Take this rubbish down and lock him in the water dungeon." Steveren tucked the money pouch into his sleeve. "I'll present this confession to your grandfather. He's been looking for an excuse to increase taxes on Raventree City's timber trade. This leverage Tethos has provided is just right."

Steve stood up, walked over to Raymond, and patted him on the stiff shoulder.

"Raymond, you've 'suffered a grievance' this time for the sake of the family. I will suggest to Father that we increase the number of patrols on the upper reaches of the Blue Fork River. From now on, you will be responsible for delivering that one-tenth of the security tax to the Hohenzollern territory every month. Remember, keep a close eye on our family's silver and don't let any crows fly by."

Two days later, in the main tower of Haijiang City.

Earl Jason Mellist stood before the large arched window, the cold wind carrying the scent of sea salt wafting across his wrinkled face. Maester Theron stood respectfully behind him, holding the urgent letter that had just arrived from the upper reaches of the Blue Fork River.

"My lord, Sir Hohenzollern used his own profits to secure the transport of 60% of your silver mine, and reached a 'waterway security agreement' with the Twins. The Frey family's patrol ships will officially enter these waters starting tomorrow."

Earl Jason turned around, a mocking sneer appearing on his rough face: "He's using my silver as a pretext to pluck old Walder Frey's beard."

Jason strode to the table, picked up the letter, glanced at it, and his gaze lingered on the words "waterway security coordination".

"Otto is a ruthless fellow. He knows that Seafront City is defended by the Iron Islands and cannot easily send troops out due to border friction. So he cut off a piece of flesh and threw it to the greediest old crocodile in the river. As long as old Wald takes his money, the Frey family's patrol boats will become his free floating city walls. Blackwood dares not touch the Frey family's ships on the water, because that would mean all-out war."

"My lord, won't this weaken our legal position upstream?" Scholar Theron asked with some concern.

"His letter clearly states 'police coordination.' As long as my money arrives monthly, I don't care what kind of fish he raises in the river." Earl Jason sat back in his oak chair, his tone turning icy. "Reply to Otto: grant him this temporary cooperation. But if the Freys dare to set foot on his land even an inch, I will personally go and cut off his head along with old Walder's flag. Let him remember who gave him that piece of mud."

Meanwhile, fifty miles to the south, lies Crow Tree City.

Lord Tytos Blackwood slammed a secret letter, stained with dried mud, onto the desk. The study was pitch black, save for the embers in the fireplace casting a dim red glow.

"Are all the assassins dead in the water?" Tytus's voice was deep, tinged with suppressed rage.

"Not a single one escaped. Rumor has it... the bodies were all nailed to stakes on the riverbank," his trusted knight Brynden reported in a low voice. "Moreover, Stevieren of the Twins has formally submitted a 'transit violation note' to our trade officials. He says our 'bandits' interfered with the Frey family's right to maintain order and collect taxes. That fool Raymond Frey publicly displayed a money pouch bearing his personal seal. My lord... we're trapped."

Tetos's eyelids twitched. He had originally intended to set a trap for Raymond, exploiting his greed to create chaos, but instead, he had been used by Otto, becoming the Twins' pretext for openly interfering in the defense of the Blue Fork River. Now, he was legally on the defensive, and if he continued to act on the waterways, he would be challenging the Frey family's coffers.

"Keep the troops at the watermill fence there." Tethos walked to the window, gazing at the northern horizon, calculating the costs in his mind. "Since I can't reclaim the waterways, I'll completely block the land routes. I can afford to consume 150 pounds of rations daily to maintain that outpost. I want to see how long that 'Piercer' can feed those 300 mouths. As long as he can't get a single grain of wheat, that silver mine is a giant tomb."

Blue Fork Valley, Hohenzollern Territory.

The scorching summer sun made the newly built stone tower scorching hot, and the mixed smell of lime and sweat fermented in the air.

Otto wore a loose, coarse linen armor, his left arm slung around his neck with a cloth strap. The terrible subcutaneous bruising on his shoulder had not yet subsided, and each breath brought on a dull, tearing pain. Yet, he stood ramrod straight, like a stone statue on a high platform.

Below the platform, thirty-seven men, wielding oak shields and spears, sweated profusely as the Northerner Torun cracked his whip.

"Snapped!"

"Too slow! Third from the left in the last row! Hold the shield tight! Countdown ten! Push!"

Torun's roar echoed through the valley. The thirty-seven men mechanically repeated every beat of the phalanx. Otto watched the troops, his mind calculating precise casualties.

Three hundred mouths need nearly four hundred pounds of rations each day. Damon's smuggling ships have entered the port, but the rations are expensive. Every day that the blockade of Tethos continues, the territory's silver reserves will shrink by one cent.

"My lord," Polliff said, striding up to the platform, his tone unusually relaxed, "the Frey family's two patrol boats have already passed the watermill to the south. The soldiers of Blackwood watched them go by without even drawing their bows. Our waterways are secured."

Otto did not turn his head; his gaze remained fixed on the square formation that was advancing in perfect unison.

"The first fence is up."

Otto stroked his chin with his right hand. The unobstructed waterway meant the survival threshold was temporarily lifted. As for the wooden palisade outpost on land—

“There’s no need to attack it,” Otto said coldly. “Tethos thinks he’s trying to starve me out, but he doesn’t know that the fence has saved me a lot of patrol duties. It’s an outer defensive line that he built for me out of his own pocket.”

Otto gazed at the thirty-seven spears raised in the phalanx. In this twisted yet balanced quagmire built by mortal enemies, greedy neighbors, and a hardline lord, he was slowly grinding these two hundred and eighty-four people into this machine called "Order."

"Let Cole continue forging the iron for the crossbows." Otto turned and walked toward the longhouse, his voice steady. "Tethos wants us to starve to death, but I'll show him how iron turns into bread."