"You send a snarling dog to scare a wolf?" Serena chuckled softly, a cold, ruthless sound that would have terrified Lord Gared if he were still alive. "A very foolish move, Lord Commander."
Despite her annoyance at the blatant intimidation tactic, she had absolutely no intention of refusing the meeting. In fact, she welcomed it.
Serena deeply respected the Night's Watch. She didn't pretend to know every ancient myth of the Long Night, but she knew the harsh reality of the world. The wildlings were a constant, bloody threat, and she had heard enough terrified whispers from veteran rangers to know that there were darker, unexplained horrors lurking in the deep, frozen far North.
The men in the black cloaks were the only shield standing between those icy dangers and her children. She would never actively disrespect or undermine their core mission.
But, she thought firmly, her posture straightening, guarding the realm does not give them the right to bully me. If they want my resources, they will pay a fair price, and they will treat me as an equal partner. Not a subordinate.
She folded the letter neatly and placed it into a hidden, locked drawer in her desk. She let out a long, heavy sigh.
A parley of this magnitude required meticulous preparation. If Bowen Marsh and Ser Alliser Thorne were arriving sometime this week, she needed to ensure they walked into an environment that commanded absolute respect. She needed them to feel slightly off-balance, to realize that they were dealing with a highly organized empire, not a messy, chaotic brothel.
Furthermore, if negotiations broke down, or if the notoriously bitter Ser Alliser decided to draw his sword in her tavern, she needed a rock-solid backup plan.
Serena stood up and walked to the door, opening it just enough to call down the stairs.
"Beth! Orik! Get up here. Now."
Within a minute, the two lieutenants hurried up the stairs and stepped into the cabin. Beth was still grinning from tossing the recruit, wiping her hands on a towel. Orik, a massive, scarred man who had proven his fierce loyalty to Serena over the years, looked serious and ready for orders. His hand naturally rested on the hilt of his broadsword.
"My Lady," Orik grunted, bowing his head respectfully. "Did that boy insult you further? I can track him down the Kingsroad and teach him some manners."
"The boy is irrelevant," Serena said sharply, waving her hand to dismiss the thought. She stepped behind her desk, her posture radiating absolute authority. "We have a much larger situation on our hands. Lord Steward Bowen Marsh and the Master-at-Arms of Castle Black are coming here this week for an official parley."
Beth's smile vanished instantly. Orik's eyes widened in sheer shock. The high command of the Night's Watch descending upon Mole's Town in person was an unprecedented event.
"Are we being raided, boss?" Orik asked, his voice dropping into a tense gravel.
"No. They are likely coming to negotiate for resources," Serena clarified. "They could be low on supplies, and they want our stockpiles. But they are bringing heavily armed men to intimidate us into giving them a better deal. I will not allow that to happen."
She leaned forward, her green eyes locking onto her lieutenants.
"We are going to prepare for the worst, but present our absolute best," Serena commanded, her voice dropping into a rapid, highly efficient cadence. "Beth, I want the entire tavern scrubbed until the floors shine. Tell the girls to put away the cheap, revealing silks and wear proper, modest winter dresses when the Crows arrive. I want this place looking like a high-end merchant's guild, not a cheap fighting pit. I want them to realize they are stepping into a professional establishment."
"Understood, my Lady. I'll have the floors mopped with lemon water," Beth nodded quickly.
"Orik," Serena turned to the large man. "Double the guard rotation on the near Kingsroad checkposts starting immediately. I want eyes on the road day and night. When the Night's Watch envoy is spotted, I want a runner to inform me ten minutes before they reach our doors."
"I'll put my best trackers on the tree line," Orik confirmed, his face deadly serious.
"And hide the wildling gold," Serena added, her tactical mind thinking ten steps ahead. "Hide any strange weapons, furs, or relics we acquired from beyond the Wall. Bowen Marsh is an accountant; if he sees wildling artifacts, his mind will immediately jump to treason and smuggling charges to use as leverage against us. When they walk in, I only want them to see legal Southern coin and honest Northern steel."
"Consider it done," Orik said, pounding a fist against his chest.
"Good. Now go," Serena dismissed them with a wave.
As the two hurried out of the cabin to execute her orders, Serena walked over to the glass-paned window, looking out over the snowy town. The townsfolk were going about their day, completely oblivious to the massive political shift that was about to occur within their walls.
The physical preparations would handle the Lord Steward's bureaucratic mind. If the place looked wealthy and legitimate, Bowen Marsh would respect her.
But dealing with Ser Alliser Thorne's inevitable hostility required a completely different kind of leverage. He was a bitter, veteran knight who respected nothing but sheer strength and drawn steel.
If words failed and he decided to test her authority with a blade, she couldn't rely on gold or her guards. To put a rabid dog down, she needed to be ready. She needed to be in her absolute best form of combat to fight him.
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