"Joel?"
Galon froze for a moment. In his mind appeared the image of "Swiftfoot Joel," the man who had escaped from his men four days earlier.
He lowered his head and muttered to himself.
"I didn't expect him to survive all the way to Deepwood Motte. I thought he died in the Wolfswood."
Hearing Galon's murmuring, Robett looked puzzled. "Galon, do you know him?"
Galon raised his head and explained, "Yes. The night before I left Winterfell, Ser Rodrik and I tracked down a suspect who had conspired with Theon. It was him."
Robett's expression brightened, and he smiled. "Then the old gods truly favor us."
"I'll take men tomorrow and escort him straight back to Winterfell. We'll hand him over to Lord Stark for judgment."
Galon shook his head and stopped him.
"Uncle Robett, there's no need to rush. Keep him locked up for a few days. Don't give him any food.
When he's hungry enough, I'll interrogate him myself."
Robett could not help feeling puzzled.
Still, he knew his nephew always had his own plans. After thinking it over, he nodded. "All right. I understand."
With that settled, Galon remembered something else.
"Uncle Robett, before I left, Lord Stark instructed me to dispatch a hundred archers to hold Moat Cailin.
Tomorrow morning, draw a hundred men from the clans and let…"
Names from House Glover flashed through Galon's mind, until a tall figure became clear. "Let Newgate take charge of it."
Robett frowned slightly. "Galon, why would he suddenly station troops at Moat Cailin? Could it be…"
Galon did not answer immediately. He considered how to explain it.
He slowly poured himself another cup of wine and raised it to his lips, but just then hurried footsteps sounded outside the door.
Robett's wife, Sybelle Locke, entered while directing servants to bring in steaming dishes.
Behind her came Lawrence and Gaven, along with a little girl who had only just learned to walk, Ayna Glover.
"Galon, are you sneaking wine again?
I've told you so many times. You're still too young to drink."
Seeing Galon with a cup in hand, Sybelle walked over with a displeased look.
When she snatched the cup away from Galon again, little Ayna burst into silly laughter, "hehehe, brother Galon didn't listen and got scolded by Mother again."
"Brother Galon is a bad boy… ah!"
Galon could not help himself. He stepped forward, scooped Ayna up, and lifted her high.
Ayna cried out in surprise, but quickly realized he was playing with her. She kicked her legs against Galon's shoulders and giggled loudly, as if riding a horse.
After a moment, Galon smiled and set the still-unwilling Ayna back on the ground.
He looked at Sybelle and complained softly, "Aunt Sybella, I only had one cup."
"When I was in Winterfell, I had to drink plenty just to keep up with the king's toasts…"
Sybelle raised an eyebrow and shot him a cold look. Galon immediately fell silent.
Galon's mother had died in childbirth, leaving him without maternal care from a young age.
After Sybelle Locke married into House Glover, she had taken it upon herself to act as a mother to him, caring for him as if he were her own son.
To the original Galon, Sybelle had been no different from his real mother.
After transmigrating, Galon inherited that same bond and treated Sybelle with deep respect, never arguing with her over small matters.
Seeing him quiet down, Sybelle finally relented and said, "Winterfell is Winterfell. This is Deepwood Motte. The king isn't here, and he can't order me around."
Robett shook his head and tried to smooth things over. "It's only one cup. When I was Galon's age, I drank plenty with Galbert."
Sybelle shot him an annoyed glare.
Robett gave an awkward smile and wisely stopped defending Galon, which made Lawrence chuckle to himself.
By then, the servants had finished setting out the food.
"Let's eat," Galon said.
Everyone took their seats.
Sybelle looked at Galon's travel-worn face and could not help saying again, "Where's Steward Morman? Why didn't he have the servants prepare hot water for you first?"
"Look at you. You don't look like a noble at all. You weren't like this in Winterfell too, were you?"
She continued fussing, just like any mother worrying over her child.
Back in Deepwood Motte, Galon felt completely relaxed and answered casually, "Aunt Sybella, I had Steward Morman settle Jon first."
"Besides, after traveling nonstop for four days, if I washed first, I'd probably fall asleep right away.
Let's eat before that."
Though Galon had been in this world for half a year and grown used to the noble life of Westeros, when he relaxed, traces of his former personality still surfaced.
Hearing this, Sybelle could only let it go.
The family sat quietly and began their dinner together.
Midway through the meal, Robett remembered the earlier topic and asked again, "Galon, you still haven't told me why Lord Stark wanted a hundred archers sent to Moat Cailin."
Galon swallowed his bread and replied carefully, "He is preparing for the worst."
"Hm?"
Seeing Robett still confused, Galon decided to explain plainly.
"Because of Bran's fall, his relationship with the Lannisters has become extremely tense and hostile."
At the time, he even wanted me to arrest the Kingslayer.
Recalling the scene, he continued, "I suspect he is worried the Lannisters may send troops to retaliate against the North."
"After all, Lord Tywin values the Lannister name above everything else."
Robett absentmindedly cut into his roasted meat, deep in thought.
After a moment, he snorted. "The Lannisters stir up trouble in the North and still dare provoke him. They're looking for death."
"Galon, you should have followed Lord Stark's order and arrested the Kingslayer back then.
Let those soft southern knights see that the North is not to be trifled with."
Lawrence swallowed a mouthful of meat and chimed in, "That's right. I've heard of the Kingslayer. They say he killed his king with a sneak attack."
"His swordsmanship must be terrible. He'd definitely be no match for Galon."
Galon shook his head and cautioned him. "What you see may not be the truth, let alone what you hear."
"Lawrence, remember this. Never underestimate the Kingslayer.
His swordsmanship ranks among the very best of the Kingsguard. To take him lightly is to gamble with your life."
Embarrassed by Galon's words, Lawrence lowered his head and focused on his food.
Seeing this, Galon lightened the mood. "But Lawrence got one thing right."
"He really is no match for me. At the time, he was so frightened that he even dropped his sword."
"Haha…"
Lawrence and Gaven looked up at once, gazing at Galon with admiration. Even Robett's eyes shone with pride.
The dinner ended amid laughter and warmth.
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