Lancelot led Melisandre back to the line of words he had written.
Melisandre lightly rubbed the script with her fingernails. The characters she touched suddenly changed color, shifting from semi-transparent ice to ink-black.
"Is this shadow magic?" Lancelot asked.
"Yes. Shadows are servants of light and fire. Where there is light, there is shadow. Only the Lord of Light is the one true god."
Lancelot scratched his ear. She was preaching again.
But Lancelot respected the Lord of Light just as much as the Seven—which is to say, politely but distantly. He couldn't exactly declare himself a follower of R'hllor openly right now.
The royal convoy heading south arrived near the Neck. Eddard Stark decided to visit Howland Reed at Greywater Watch and proposed the idea to King Robert.
"Howland Reed, the man who supposedly killed two Kingsguard single-handedly at the Tower of Joy? I want to see him too," King Robert declared.
"Your Grace, he didn't kill two Kingsguard. Like me, he was simply lucky!" Eddard Stark corrected.
Because they were the only two survivors of the combat at the Tower of Joy, rumors had spread that Eddard Stark had single-handedly killed Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, while Howland Reed had taken down the other two Kingsguard by himself.
"Luck is part of skill, Ned. Although I never believed you soloed Arthur Dayne, you are the most honorable man I know," Robert said.
A bitter smile touched Eddard Stark's lips.
Accompanied by several Kingsguard and guided by Jojen Reed, Eddard Stark and King Robert arrived at Greywater Watch.
It was land situated within a swamp.
Along the way, Robert and the others suffered terribly from mosquito bites.
"If I'd known, I wouldn't have come with you, Ned! Hahaha, we've become blood feasts for mosquitoes!" King Robert laughed, pointing at the large red welts on Eddard Stark's forehead.
Eddard Stark was helpless. The environment of the Neck was harsh—not the ice and snow of the North, but man-eating swamps.
The crannogmen were short, though not dwarves. They were taller than dwarves but shorter than average men, somewhere in between.
Howland Reed led his clansmen to welcome King Robert and Eddard Stark.
Though technically a lord, he was essentially a tribal chief of the crannogmen rather than a typical high lord.
"Your Grace, Lord Eddard. Welcome to the Neck, the home of the crannogmen. I hope your journey here wasn't too arduous," Howland Reed greeted.
"Howland Reed! Do you have anything to feed us? Your King is hungry!" King Robert boomed.
"We have frog soup, roasted lizard, and freshly caught alligator and python meat."
Although King Robert had never eaten them, he had heard Grand Maester Pycelle say that alligator and python meat carried many viruses and bacteria and shouldn't be eaten.
But Robert was stubborn. Today, he insisted on tasting alligator and python. He hadn't eaten dragon meat, so tasting these two would be a decent substitute.
The crannogmen didn't sing and dance or throw a grand feast for the King's arrival. Life went on as usual.
Robert thought about finding a crannogwoman to satisfy his cravings, but he noticed every woman seemed to have a family. He couldn't exactly force himself on them.
He knew if he forced a crannogwoman, he might find himself trapped in a net on his way back, sunk into the swamp to drown. His body would bloat after a day, rot, and become part of the muck.
While Robert gorged himself on alligator meat, Eddard Stark and Howland Reed retreated to a treehouse.
"Eddard, you made the wrong choice. The South is not a place for you. Have you forgotten the lessons of your father and brother?" Howland Reed said with a heavy expression.
"I am a wolf from the North, but my brother is in danger in the South. I must go help him," Eddard Stark replied.
"Hasn't King Robert lived well enough without you for over a decade?" Howland Reed countered.
"But with Jon Arryn dead, he has no one to rely on!" Eddard Stark argued.
"He has brothers, Kingsguard, and other ministers on the Small Council to assist him. If you go, the only change might be that the Hand's pin ends up on your chest," Howland Reed continued.
"I must go to King's Landing, not just for Jon Arryn, but also for the Wall," Eddard Stark said.
"I heard that child is in the convoy too," Howland Reed changed the subject abruptly. Only Eddard Stark knew who he meant.
"He is!"
"Eddard, you are foolish!" Howland Reed exclaimed angrily.
"Only the two of us know his identity. I swore to you I would never reveal it, but in King's Landing, his identity is the greatest danger!"
"No one knows who he is, so no one cares about him. To outsiders, he is just my bastard son!" Eddard Stark defended.
"Sigh! Eddard, honest men like you are rare. I hope you survive. Live as long as possible."
"Trust no one in King's Landing. That is my final advice to you."
The conversation ended. This might not be their final farewell, but whether they would meet again was uncertain.
Leaving Greywater Watch, Robert and Eddard Stark returned to the convoy. But not long after, the King started having stomach pains.
"Ah! My stomach hurts! Get a Maester!"
Gurgling sounds came from King Robert's belly. Something was wrong.
Then came the incessant diarrhea. The entire convoy was enveloped in a foul stench.
Many couldn't stand it and started plugging their noses with cloth strips, breathing through their mouths instead.
Because the King was sick, they had to stop and rest at a minor lord's holdfast.
Due to the severe diarrhea, after several days, Robert looked visibly thinner. Much of his fat had melted away.
When King Robert recovered, he looked in the mirror.
"Is this ghost really me?"
The Robert in the mirror had dark circles under his eyes, a darkened forehead, and looked like a man drained of vitality.
"No. From now on, I will resume my training. I will spar every day."
Robert called for his warhammer, picked a Kingsguard, and began sparring.
He decided to revitalize himself before returning to King's Landing, appearing before his subjects in peak form.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Today, Robert's sparring partner was Jaime. Facing Robert's hammer, Jaime Lannister dared not block directly; he chose to dodge and weave.
Seeing Jaime dancing around him, Robert roared in annoyance.
"Kingslayer! Come on! Fight me!"
"Your Grace, my sword is very sharp. I fear I might cut your beard," Jaime said with a blade-sharp smile, the corners of his mouth lifting.
"Your King commands you! Fight me!"
Jaime Lannister stopped retreating and met him head-on with his sword.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Sword met hammer. Jaime's arm went numb from the shock.
"Such strength! No wonder Rhaegar was hammered to death by him."
"But he is slower than me."
Jaime identified Robert's weakness and changed tactics.
They engaged again, but this time, Jaime's sword sliced through the wooden handle of Robert's hammer.
"You!"
Robert stared, stunned, at the sword stopped just before his beard.
"Forgive me, Your Grace!" Jaime sheathed his sword and stepped back.
Eddard Stark approached Robert.
"Robert, fighting him is dangerous. He is the man who killed Aerys!"
"But he is also my brother-in-law!" Robert said.
"His weapon is a Valyrian steel sword. I didn't expect that! I thought Lancelot would send Brightroar to Casterly Rock if he found it in Valyria. I didn't expect Jaime to have one too."
"Sigh, if only Joffrey were as outstanding as Lancelot." Robert felt a pang of longing for a son like Lancelot.
---
Meanwhile, Lancelot was following Benjen Stark toward Eastwatch-by-the-Sea.
They passed several abandoned castles along the way.
At each castle, Lancelot and Tyrion recorded the damage, determining if it could be repaired or if building a new one was better.
They also checked for signs of wildlings nearby.
In some places, they actually found traces left by wildlings climbing the Wall—scratch marks made by iron claws and hooks.
Naturally, Agoda found them, as he had crossed the Wall using similar methods.
"Agoda, if every wildling had tools like these, couldn't you all just come over?" Tyrion asked.
Agoda shook his head.
"People die every time we cross the Wall. And there are almost no blacksmiths beyond the Wall. Our iron comes from whatever we can strip off dead crows."
"We can't gather that many iron hooks."
"If we manufactured enough of these tools, could we secretly cooperate with the wildlings? Even if Robert doesn't plan to let them pass, could we secretly let a lucky few climb over?" Lancelot suggested.
"Lancelot, that is a dangerous signal. You seem to be deviating from the righteous path," Tyrion warned.
"Remember, you are a man of the Seven Kingdoms, not a wildling!" Tyrion said earnestly, fearing Lancelot was making a mistake.
"Uncle, there is no distinction between the Seven Kingdoms and the lands beyond the Wall. Westeros is one continent, not two. Our relationship with the lands beyond the Wall is different from our relationship with Essos," Lancelot argued.
"Do you really intend to carry out such a plan?" Tyrion asked.
"We can openly repair the castles while secretly letting them cross. The only problem is, where do we hide the extra wildlings?"
That was Lancelot's dilemma.
"Sell them to Slaver's Bay as slaves!" Tyrion proposed a ruthless solution.