"Jon, Jon!"
Aldric shouted to Jon, who was practicing combat drills with his squad members. "Change into clean clothes and come with me to the city!"
"Yes, Teacher!"
Jon didn't ask why. After giving a few instructions to his opponent, he ducked into his tent.
Rennel asked softly, "Are you going to tell him?"
"Of course," Aldric gazed at Jon's back. "That is his father after all. Tell Eddie and the others for me, I'm taking Jon to Winterfell right now."
Then Aldric returned to his tent, changed clothes, mounted Blitz, and took Jon on the road to Winterfell.
Jon was quiet by nature. Master and student barely spoke on the way. After deliberating for a long time, Aldric decided to vaccinate Jon mentally. He asked, "Jon, how have you been getting along with your comrades lately?"
Jon nodded. "Pretty good. They're a tough bunch. I learned a lot from them."
"Your father would certainly hope to see you become tough... He would be very gratified by his ancestors' side."
Jon suddenly pulled the reins. "Teacher, what do you mean 'by his ancestors' side'?"
"Rennel..." Aldric stopped too, speaking hesitantly, "He heard news in town that King Robert is dead, and your father was executed by the new King..."
Jon got agitated. "Impossible! He is the Warden of the North, the Hand of the King! How could he be executed? Only a madman would do that!"
Aldric shook his head. "I thought so too. So I plan to take you to Winterfell to confirm if the news is true."
"After all, Rennel heard it from others. Maybe the news got distorted in transmission..."
However, before Aldric finished, Jon had already spurred his horse, galloping toward Winterfell. Helpless, Aldric could only follow.
Arriving at Winterfell's South Gate, Jon called for the gate to open. Led by a guard, they entered the main keep. Inside, Jon walked alone into the study where Robb was, while Aldric waited outside.
A while later, the meeting room door opened again. With red eyes, Jon said to Aldric, "Teacher, Robb invites you in."
Seeing Jon's state, Aldric had a rough answer in his heart. Lord Eddard was likely gone. Though Aldric's only meeting with Lord Eddard wasn't pleasant, he was grateful the Lord stood up for him when the King forced a duel with the Hound.
He patted Jon's shoulder. "Child, my condolences."
Jon froze, squeezing out an ugly smile. "Teacher, my father is still alive. Just imprisoned."
With that, he led Aldric into the study.
The study was where generations of Winterfell Lords handled official business. The light in the room was soft and warm, coming from exquisite candlesticks in the corners and natural light from the window.
One side of the study had rows of towering bookshelves filled with various books and scrolls. On the other wall hung a huge family crest—a Direwolf totem embroidered with gold thread, shining in the candlelight.
Below the crest was a thick solid wood desk, polished smooth as a mirror, piled with various papers, scrolls, and stationery, some scattered, some stacked neatly.
At this moment, Robb sat behind the desk, holding a quill writing a letter, while Maester Luwin read contents from several small notes beside him.
Seeing Aldric enter, Robb looked up, pointing to the chair opposite the desk, politely saying, "Please sit, Commander Aldric."
After bowing, Aldric sat opposite Robb.
Robb put down the pen. "Commander Aldric, thank you very much for taking care of Jon during this time."
"There is a saying in my hometown: take people's trust, be loyal to the matter."
Aldric didn't claim credit, answering calmly, "When First Ranger Benjen entrusted Jon to me, I resolved to cultivate him into an outstanding warrior."
"Now Jon is my student. Whether taking care of him or teaching him, it is what I should do."
Robb's tone suddenly became stern. "My father, Lord Eddard Stark, was imprisoned in King's Landing by that fool Joffrey on charges of treason. His guards were all slaughtered, and I have no news of my two sisters."
"Joffrey's actions are a shameful betrayal of the alliance between House Stark and House Baratheon. I will never acknowledge that guy as King."
"Even a dog tied to the Iron Throne would be better than him! What do you say?"
Aldric frowned. He had no good impression of that brat Joffrey either, so he agreed, "Yes. This is total betrayal and deserves punishment."
Robb was clearly satisfied with Aldric's attitude. He turned to ask, "Commander Aldric, I heard from Jon that you wiped out a group of Wildling raiders in Purple Wisteria Village and saved two dying warriors with your miraculous magic. Is that so?"
Aldric didn't deny it. "Yes. Thanks to the Sun God's mercy, they survived."
Robb nodded, then said, "I hope you can join this war for justice as a friend of the North. What do you think?"
Aldric's heart jumped. He realized this was a rare opportunity. Big business is here?
He immediately stood up, bowed with hand over heart to Robb, solemnly saying, "Lord Robb, I am willing to fight for the glory of Winterfell."
Robb nodded with satisfaction. "I'll have Hallis Mollen talk to you about specific details later. He is my Captain of Guards and Standard Bearer."
With that, Robb lowered his head, returning attention to his unfinished letter.
Though Westeros had no tea-serving guest-dismissal etiquette, Aldric saw Robb's intention and took his leave.
Jon followed him, wanting to leave too, but Aldric stopped him.
Aldric told Jon, "Rare to come back once. Go see your brothers and other acquaintances. Also, you know the troop's equipment quality isn't good. Ask Robb if you can pick a fitting set from Winterfell's armory as your father's encouragement to you."
Jon nodded gratefully and walked in another direction.
Guided by other guards, Aldric met Hallis Mollen.
Hallis was a rather burly man, muscular, with a square brown beard.
He took Aldric to the main keep's hall, finding a quiet corner to sit.
As soon as they sat, Hallis asked impatiently, "Commander Aldric, can you really revive the dead?"
Aldric was confused, quickly denying, "No, who told you that?"
Hallis pointed toward the main keep. "Jon said it while chatting with Lord Robb in the study just now. Can't be fake, right?"
Aldric explained, "No, I just saved two heavily wounded warriors..."
Hallis Mollen looked silent but was actually a Gossip King.
He sat with Aldric in the hall for over an hour, asking everything, saying everything, wishing to dig out Aldric's background while revealing his own early on, completely lacking a filter.
Aldric wondered how such a gossip could be Captain of Guards.
He patiently chatted with Hallis for a long time. Suddenly a young guard burst in, telling Hallis, "Hallis, the Young Lord wants you."
"Ah!" Hallis slapped his forehead, turning to Aldric. "Based on the Silver Hand's size, the monthly hiring fee is twenty-five Gold Dragons. Loot is yours to dispose of. Counting from the day of departure, pay at month-end. Come find me then. Go back and prepare; we'll march South soon."
With that, Hallis turned and left with his colleague.
Aldric shook his head helplessly. In over an hour, only these two sentences were useful.
Not long after, Jon returned wearing black hard leather armor. The breastplate had a blackened wolf head symbol, with chainmail underneath, looking striking.
Aldric asked concernedly, "Is your brother okay?"
Jon shook his head, looking somewhat gloomy. "No... but his mood seems better than before. He feels much more grown-up."
Aldric sighed, comforting, "The more one experiences, the faster one grows. In my hometown, we use 'flowers in a greenhouse' to describe children who haven't experienced hardship. Jon, you've grown a lot in these months too."
"Pity not fast enough to save my father." Jon paused, asking with a hint of expectation, "Teacher, if my father met an accident... could you revive him?"
Aldric said regretfully, "No, Jon. Though I wish to, life and death is an irreversible boundary. At least I cannot."
Master and student returned to camp in silence.
The news of Lord Eddard's imprisonment swept the North like a storm.
Since Lord Rickard and his eldest son Brandon were executed by the Mad King Aerys in King's Landing, this was the third Lord of the North from House Stark imprisoned in King's Landing by King's order in recent decades.
Since inheriting the Warden of the North position sixteen years ago, Eddard Stark treated all vassals fairly, establishing a stable and lasting order in the North. As Rennel said, "At least on the Kingsroad, a woman can walk alone without fear of harassment."
Thus, when news of his arrest spread, anger filled the North. Flames of revenge, like a prairie fire, quickly ignited the Northern lands.
Summoned by Acting Lord Robb Stark, noble lords across the North raised their banners, leading their most elite troops to Winterfell, awaiting orders to march.
Flags fluttered inside and outside the city. Every habitable house in Winter Town was packed with soldiers following major lords.
Even near Aldric's camp, troops from unknown places began garrisoning. The atmosphere in Winter Town suddenly became tense.
To avoid unnecessary trouble, Aldric tightened camp management, forbidding non-essential outings. Even when Eddie went out to buy supplies on Aldric's order, he had to take at least five men.
One night, after dinner, everyone gathered around the bonfire chatting. Kevin suddenly raised a question that instantly piqued everyone's interest: "Teacher, our warband's banner... we haven't displayed one, have we?"
Aldric paused, realizing it had been nearly three months since the Silver Hand's establishment, yet they indeed lacked a war banner. With big battles coming, commanding without a flag on the battlefield would be inconvenient.
So he agreed readily. "Hmm, I'll go to town tomorrow to order one. But I haven't decided on the design. Any ideas?"
Officers looked at each other. None had experience deciding flag designs. Wasn't this the Commander's privilege and duty?
A while later, Conrad broke the silence. "Isn't it simple? Aren't we called the Silver Hand? Just draw a white fist?"
"That's the Glover banner from Deepwood Motte," Jon reminded.
Eddie suggested, "Then draw a silver open palm."
Imagining the style Eddie described, Aldric decided decisively. "Let's do that. Red background, a white circle in the middle, and a silver hand inside the circle."
After setting the design, early next morning, Aldric took Liaison Officer Rennel and Quartermaster Eddie to the market district, ordering from a tailor shop.
Leaving the tailor shop, Aldric shook his money bag, sighing, "Another four Silver Moons spent."
Rennel comforted, "It's fair. You ordered one big flag, five small flags, with different small patterns embroidered on small flags, required within five days. This price is conscientious."
Aldric defended, "Combat Squads 1 to 3, Scout Squad, Battlefield Rescue Team... don't we need five small flags? If Juan's Engineer Squad didn't need to fight, I'd get them one too."
Passing the "Smoke & Fire" Tavern, thinking of the waiter Rory he hadn't seen in a while and missing his mixed fruit wine, Aldric suggested, "How about a drink before going back?"
Rennel agreed happily, "Sure, good idea. Eddie, you?"
Eddie nodded too. "Let's go. Haven't been here in a long time. Just to taste Rory's new mix."
So, Aldric, Rennel, and Eddie pushed open the heavy door of "Smoke & Fire." Upon entering, a loud and enthusiastic wave of human voices engulfed them like a tide.
The tavern was spacious, over a hundred square meters on the first floor, with a dozen sturdy wooden tables.
Usually, only half were occupied. But today was different—every table was packed with excited and rude soldiers. Some couldn't find seats and added stools temporarily. It was extremely lively.
Weaving through narrow gaps between tables, the three sat directly at the bar. "Hi, Rory, long time no see."
"Hi, Aldric. How've you been?" Rory greeted warmly.
Aldric smiled. "So-so. Any mixed fruit wine left? Give us one each."
Rory looked troubled, shaking his head. "None. Even barley ale is gone. If you're willing to drink watered-down bread beer, there's some."
Aldric looked at Rennel and Eddie. Seeing no objection, he said, "Fine. Can't come for nothing. By the way, business is good today."
Rory sighed helplessly. "Tell me about it. Lords from everywhere brought troops. Packed every day. My boss wants to close for a while for peace."
Aldric was puzzled. "Why? Isn't making money good?"
Rory smiled bitterly. "Good? Those drinking are soldier lords. Drunk means trouble. Sometimes can't collect bill, and have to pay to fix broken furniture."
Rory complained in a low voice, "Soldiers gathering in town increase, booze prices rise. Boss doesn't dare raise prices. Selling one cup loses one cup. Better to close and wait for Lord Robb to march South."
Aldric sighed. "Lord Robb... sigh... becoming Acting Lord at this age and time, life isn't easy."
Rory chuckled. "Hearing you, I thought he couldn't afford food either. These soldier lords nearly ate the town's grain reserves empty. Grain prices tripled. Ordinary people don't store grain; buying flour once now empties savings."
"My sister's family ran out of food yesterday. Luckily these lords leave some leftovers. Collecting them barely feeds my sister and her two kids. Otherwise, we'd starve before Lannisters kill us."
"Doesn't Lord Robb manage this?" Aldric asked puzzledly.
"In Lord Robb's eyes—" Rory started but was interrupted by a timid waitress. "Rory, the guest over there wants barley ale."
Rory looked impatient. "Didn't you say barley ale is sold out?"
The waitress looked troubled. "I said it, but he says there must be some in the cellar. If I don't serve it, he'll rush to the cellar himself."
Rory sighed helplessly, spewing a string of C-language curses, then took a small keg from under the bar, handing it to the waitress. "Tell them this is the last keg. Even if they tear down the tavern, I have no more."
Then Rory smiled awkwardly at Aldric. "Didn't expect one keg left... sorry."
Aldric waved his hand. "No need to explain, I understand—"
Just then, a burly warrior walked over, grabbed Eddie's shoulder, shouting in surprise, "Eddie, isn't this Hunter Eddie? Why are you here?!"
Eddie looked up, recognizing the face, responding joyfully, "Basque! It's you! You came too? With Lord Maggie?"
"Yeah. Where are you mixing now?" Basque asked curiously.
Eddie smiled. "I serve in a mercenary band called Silver Hand. This is my Commander, Aldric Seris."
Basque immediately extended his hand to Aldric. "Hello, Commander Aldric. Heard of your name."
Aldric smiled and shook hands. "Hello, Mr. Basque. Pleasure."
Then Basque said excitedly, "Eddie, come, meet old friends!"
Eddie looked at Aldric for permission.
Aldric nodded. "Go. Remember to return to camp at night."
After Eddie left, Aldric, Rennel, and Rory continued chatting.
Rory revealed dissatisfaction with the soldiers' loose discipline but had little opinion on the war to save Lord Eddard itself.
While chatting happily, a violent fighting sound came from behind. Aldric looked back. In a corner, two groups of drunk men were fighting, very chaotic.
Aldric pointed there, asking Rory, "Like this every day?"
Rory grinned. "Exactly. Fine, let them fight. They'll stop when tired."
Aldric shrugged, continuing to drink. Moments later, he suddenly heard Eddie shouting loudly, "Commander! Commander Aldric! Basque is hurt! Help!"
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