Lucien, with fifty soldiers, had formed a formation in the middle of Kings Road.
Thirty soldiers stood openly in the middle of the road, arrayed in three lines, silent as mountains, hands on their sword hilts. Their armor was still tattered, but they exuded an inexplicable aura, causing passing pedestrians and small caravans to turn their heads.
In the distance, a large caravan slowly approached.
More than a dozen heavy wagons loaded with goods were surrounded by over fifty guards. A huge banner embroidered with wheat ears fluttered in the wind.
The caravan's vanguard scout discovered the army on the road, immediately reined in his horse and reported back. Soon, the entire caravan stopped. The caravan's guards drew their longswords, and archers nocked their arrows, confronting the army ahead tensely.
The atmosphere instantly became tense. How audacious! Fifty-odd soldiers, armed with sharp blades, standing on the main road, not robbing pedestrians or small caravans—they were clearly coming for them.
A guard captain in chainmail spurred his horse forward and shouted, "Who are you! Clear the road immediately!
We are the Grain Guild of King's Landing! Protected by the King of the Seven Kingdoms!"
Lucien remained motionless until the other party came within shouting distance. He then spurred his warhorse, slowly advancing alone, while the soldiers behind him remained perfectly still.
"We mean no harm, Your Grace," Lucien's voice was clear and resonant, carrying across the entire caravan. "I am here by my lord's command, waiting to invite you for a meeting."
The guard captain looked wary, "Waiting? Does this look like waiting?"
Just then, a calm voice came from inside a luxuriously decorated carriage.
"Let them approach."
"I am Roderick, the President of the Grain Guild. Who wishes to see me?"
The carriage curtain was pulled back, and a well-dressed, slightly plump middle-aged man stepped out.
He was about forty years old, with sharp eyes and a hint of offended displeasure and a sneer on his face, but more of scrutiny and curiosity. Who dared to block Kings Road to invite him?
He was the President of the King's Landing Grain Guild. Not to mention minor nobles, even some great nobles and kings wanted to borrow money from him. This was probably some small noble who had a crooked idea, not even considering if one could be a merchant in Westeros without a background.
Roderick slowly scrutinized Lucien and the well-equipped, disciplined troop behind him. The smile on his face faded. Having traveled north and south for decades, he could tell from the soldiers' eyes and stances that these were no ordinary bandits or mountain brigands. Considering their location, the one who wanted to see him was probably the young rising 'Little Black Lion' that was the talk of the town.
Roderick slowly spoke, "What is your intention in blocking my caravan?"
Lucien slightly bowed on his horse, his posture neither humble nor arrogant.
"President Roderick, my lord, the ruler of this land, Lord Arthur, has long heard of the Grain Guild's reputation and has specifically ordered me to be here to invite you and your caravan to be guests in his territory."
Roderick almost burst out laughing: "Invitation? Sending an invitation with drawn blades? Your lord is truly unique. What if I don't go? What can he do to me!"
"My lord says that for esteemed guests, the most solemn etiquette must be used to welcome them," Lucien calmly replied. Following Arthur's instructions, he took out a crystal lens from his Pregnant.
The guards beside Roderick immediately stepped forward, carefully taking it, checking for any danger first, then presenting it to the President.
Roderick took it and looked. A smooth, water-like mirror surface appeared before his eyes, clearly reflecting his own surprised face. It was more than ten times clearer than the expensive bronze mirrors used by noble ladies in King's Landing. However, while such an item certainly had some value,
it was not particularly rare.
Roderick looked at Lucien, seemingly asking if this was all, but then saw Lucien place his hand over his eye, gesturing for him to hold it to his eye. He frowned slightly, thinking it was a trick, and casually placed it before his eye.
His eyes instantly widened, he gasped, and his eyes became bloodshot, like a hungry wolf seeing its prey.
"These..."
.:.. Were these made by your lord?" Roderick's voice held a hint of madness.
Lucien retrieved the item and put it back in his Pregnant: "This is just a sample."
"My lord says he has things that can change the world, and he is only willing to share them with discerning friends. He believes you are such a friend."
Lucien felt that after associating with cultured people, his speaking skills had improved. Who knew them? It was just their bad luck to run into them.
"So, what exactly do you—" Lucien's words were interrupted. He looked at the suddenly strange merchant before him.
"Take me there!!!!" Roderick said fiercely.
The large caravan and Arthur's soldiers mingled, turned around, and slowly drove towards the rugged path leading deep into the mountains.
-------------------------------
I've already uploaded 40 chapters of this story on Patreon!
If you enjoy it, come check out the latest chapters in advance.
Here's the link:
[patreon.com/Greyhounds]
Thank you so much for your support!!
"And If you're enjoying it, drop a Power Stone for me!"