chapter 85 part 1
Chapter 85: Loyalty
After a reluctant parting from Glyn, Samwell set off on the journey home with his sister and brother. The three siblings were full of laughter along the way.
Upon returning to Horn Hill, before Samwell and the others even had a chance to unpack, they were summoned directly to the study by their father, Lord Randyll Tarly.
This time, his father's scolding was harsher than ever before. It escalated to the point where he threatened to drive Samwell out of Horn Hill.
Samwell trembled all over, the sliver of confidence he had just gained now ruthlessly and utterly shattered.
*Bang!* The study door was suddenly pushed open.
Samwell's mother, Melessa Florent, appeared at the doorway with Talla Tarly and Dickon Tarly.
"Enough, Randyll! I arranged it! Talla and Dickon wanted to see the tourney. They are still young and needed their older brother's protection!"
"My eldest son cannot protect his own family."
...
Horn Hill.
The clear sky suddenly became overcast. The sunlight vanished without a trace, and the clouds in the sky hung lower and lower.
Samwell Tarly stared at the abruptly changing weather, his eyes hollow. "It's going to rain," he murmured.
...
For Samwell, his conversations with Glyn had been a rare and joyful time.
Samwell had never imagined that Glyn, having put down his sword, could be so knowledgeable.
They discussed all sorts of topics together, from history and myths to legends.
Glyn had even proposed a point of view that still excited Samwell whenever he recalled it: he said that knowledge was the sharpest blade in this world.
In that moment, Samwell's cowardice had vanished.
In that instant, Samwell's face had been filled with confidence.
...
In the afternoon, while his father was away, Samwell went to see his mother.
Melessa Florent looked at Samwell, who stood with his head bowed and his gaze averted. She put down her embroidery and comforted him, "Sam, it was my mistake that led to your father punishing you. Mother is so sorry."
Melessa's gentle voice made Samwell's eyes instantly redden.
"Sam, believe Mother. Although your father is strict, he loves you very much."
Samwell raised his head to look at his gentle mother, tears welling in his eyes. "Mother, I've found my courage. I'm going to leave Horn Hill."
Melessa exclaimed in shock, "Sam, you..."
Tears filled Samwell's reddened eyes. Large, crystalline teardrops rolled down his cheeks and fell.
"Mother! I'm a coward! But I will definitely make you proud of me!"
...
...
Highgarden, in the garden maze.
Last night, at a small-scale banquet, Glyn had spent the entire evening chatting and drinking with Lord Mace.
The banquet ended with Lord Mace passing out drunk.
Glyn strolled through the garden. The fragrance of roses assailed his nostrils, but all he could smell was the scent of Gold Dragons.
Glyn found a cool wooden bench and sat down.
Glyn stretched lazily, leaning his back against the bench rest.
Although last night's banquet had been small in scale, its attendees were of high status.
After they finished their discussions, it was rather late, and Lord Mace regretfully had to summon only the vassals who were present within the castle walls.
Under the eager gaze of Lord Mace, Glyn spoke at length about Lord Mace's little-known arts of war.
A serious Glyn was a fearsome thing. Coupled with his self-consistent logic, many of the nobles at the banquet came to believe Glyn's words.
A beaming Lord Mace stroked his beard incessantly, to the point that his originally neatly trimmed, triangular beard lost its shape.
"There's another grand banquet tonight..." Glyn tilted his head back, looking at the white clouds in the sky, and rubbed his aching temples with his long fingers.
Although it was a bit exhausting, Glyn's gains were substantial.
From the six days of tournament matches, he had won over a thousand Gold Dragons.
As a "consulting fee" from Margaery Tyrell, Glyn had received three thousand Gold Dragons.
In the morning, Steward Rosser reported to Glyn that the grain deal with Highgarden had been settled. The price was practically a giveaway, and Highgarden would even be responsible for delivery.
Thinking of this, Glyn, the overachiever, was instantly revitalized.
Because of the one-month deadline from Hand of the King Jon Arryn, Glyn had to set out tomorrow. Tonight, he would continue to build up the reputation of his beloved Lord Mace.
That summer, Glyn had stood with his hands in his pockets, looked all around, and found no worthy rival.
The thought of Lord Jon Arryn sent another shiver down Glyn's spine; it was time to put securing the title of Protector of Crackclaw Point on the agenda.
Glyn knew very well that a title bestowed during King Robert's reign held more weight and was more widely recognized than one from the future King Joffrey.
...
An unknown amount of time passed. Glyn, who had been clearing his mind and resting with his eyes closed, twitched his ears.
The sound came from not far behind him.
From the voices, Glyn had already guessed the identities of the speakers. They were Margaery's circle of companion handmaidens.
...
A slightly plump Megga Tyrell said loudly, "Are you all going to play the game or not?"
Megga Tyrell was a member of a cadet branch of House Tyrell. She enjoyed playing the kissing game with her cousins.
Elara Tyrell, who was slender with lively eyes, said, "Megga, I'm so tired today."
Elara Tyrell was also a member of a cadet branch of House Tyrell.
"Mmm, we played too wildly last night. Right now, I just want to sit and do nothing," said Senelle of House Crane.
Yalan Tyrell, another member of a cadet branch of House Tyrell, said thoughtfully, "Since you're tired, let's rest for a bit. Lady Margaery will be busy for a while longer. Would you like me to play the wooden harp for you?"
Megga Tyrell waved her hand and said, "It's alright, Yalan. Aren't you tired? Let's all sit down and rest for a bit."
"Thank you, Megga."
...
"Sigh, at the banquet last night, did you all notice Lord Mace? I've never seen him so happy."
"Of course I saw. Anyone with eyes could see that, couldn't they?"
"Megga, why do you talk like that?"
"Don't be angry anymore. We'll definitely play the game with you this afternoon."
"Sigh, I think it's because of that outsider."
"You mean that troubadour?"
"A troubadour? Hahahaha!"
The group of sisters burst into laughter.
"Everyone was drawn to him. He stole all the limelight."
"As the Queen's envoy, his tongue was wagging the entire night. I actually think it wasn't easy for him."
"Elara, I know you. You're only lenient with knights you find handsome."
"Lord Glyn is from Crackclaw Point. At the banquet last night, some people were privately saying that the nobles of Crackclaw Point are all half-wildling nobles."
"Wildlings? He doesn't look like one at all!"
"Could his formidable swordsmanship come from the mysterious power of the wildlings?"
...
"Shh, I heard a shocking secret. I'm only telling you all, so remember to keep it confidential."
"Don't worry, sister!"
"Stop being dramatic and just say it!"
"Lord Mace might be going to King's Landing..."
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