"Chariots rattle, horses neigh, men march with bows and arrows at their waists."
These were the first two lines of the Tang Dynasty poet Du Fu's Ballad of the Army Carts.
In his youth, Aldric couldn't understand the deep meaning within. But at this moment, amidst the long columns of the Northern Army, personally feeling this magnificent scene, he could only sincerely sigh at the Poet Sage's precise and profound grasp of life.
Since the War of the Usurper, the sight of an army of over ten thousand marching South on the Kingsroad had not been seen again.
In this era, just safely bringing so many people south of the Neck was a daunting task, let alone providing food and lodging along the way and ensuring they didn't harass villages and inns they passed.
Sheriffs rode warhorses, patrolling beside their columns, always vigilant, reminding soldiers not to fall behind.
Wagons loaded with dried meat and bread followed closely, providing necessary supplies.
However, waterskins had to be filled and carried by soldiers themselves.
If one forgot to fill water at the river before breaking camp in the morning, one could only hope comrades nearby were kind enough to share some.
Whenever the column passed a village, commoners would come out of their homes.
Some watched curiously by the road, wanting to witness this rare magnificent formation; but others chose to hide deep in the mountains away from the Kingsroad to avoid the scourge of war. Historically speaking, their choice couldn't be called overly cautious.
During the march, to convey orders more effectively, the fifty-eight units under House Stark were reorganized into six battalions, each commanded by a senior guard from the Winterfell Guard.
However, these guards acted more as coordinators, conveying Robb's orders, while specific execution was discussed and decided by the Sheriffs themselves.
But where there are people, there is politics. Especially with life-and-death matters like military command. Veterans who crawled out of piles of dead bodies wouldn't easily hand over authority.
So, the seven Sheriffs assigned to the same battalion as Aldric secretly vied for command.
Among them, Sheriff Sigel Novak of Red Peak Town led the most men, over eighty infantry and cavalry; while the most senior was Sheriff Anderson Barnes of White River Bay, with only thirty-odd infantry, but all elite in chainmail.
In this battalion, they each had supporters, forming two opposing factions.
Only Aldric didn't fight or snatch. Even during meetings, he always remained silent.
Everyone thought he kept a low profile because he knew his place as a mercenary.
However, as time passed, both the winner and loser of this struggle gradually realized that whether Aldric spoke or not, his existence couldn't be ignored.
The root of this change lay in the fact that Aldric saving a Cerwyn soldier with Light magic at the "Smoke & Fire" Tavern before departure had spread through the Northern Army, becoming a hot topic.
After all, no one could ignore a wizard with supernatural abilities, especially one who could snatch people back from the Death God.
On the third night after leaving Winterfell, while camping, a man over two meters tall, more muscular than Aldric's snow bear Bell, found Aldric with several guards.
This man stood like an iron tower before Aldric, instantly alerting the Silver Hand warriors listening to Rennel's stories by the fire. They stopped laughing; some even picked up weapons and stood up.
Aldric rose calmly, asking neither humbly nor arrogantly, "May I ask what you need?"
The giant laughed. "Tell your warriors to relax. I'm not here for trouble."
Aldric smiled slightly, turning to his warriors. "You guys continue. I'll chat with this Lord."
"Teacher, you alone..." Kevin worried.
"Kevin, do you think I need your worry?" Aldric asked back.
Kevin was speechless. True, doesn't seem to need worry.
So Kevin and other warriors sat down again, continuing to listen to Rennel.
The giant looked deeply at Aldric. "Seems your warriors trust you."
"A commander must earn his warriors' trust with strength, right?" Aldric responded.
Then Aldric led the giant outside the camp. "My Lord, please speak your business."
The giant raised his left hand, revealing a bandaged palm. He gently unwrapped it. A swollen palm came into view; the middle and ring fingers were half missing, the stumps faintly festering.
"Heard you can revive the dead. Can you cure this?" the giant asked.
Aldric gently opened the wound, observing carefully. "I can't save the dead, but maybe I can try with the dying. Your wound isn't a big problem. Can you tell me how you got hurt?"
The giant answered, "A few days ago, my fingers were bitten off by a mad dog. I found a Maester to treat it, but after marching started, without Maester's care, it worsened."
"I've seen many warriors die from festering wounds. I don't want to die not on the battlefield, but under a stupid dog's mouth."
Aldric asked, "Have you had fever or chills recently?"
The giant's pupils shrank. "Yes, indeed fever and chills."
Aldric sighed. "If you came earlier, it wouldn't have worsened to this. Delaying further, you might die from complications caused by infection."
The giant didn't understand "infection," but from Aldric's tone, he knew it wasn't good news. He asked urgently, "Then how will you treat me? If you need herbs, I can send my men to find them."
Aldric shook his head. "Call your men over."
The giant waved. Four guards waiting nearby walked over immediately, respectfully greeting, "My Lord."
The giant pointed at Aldric. "Do whatever he tells you."
Seeing everyone's gaze gathered, Aldric said, "Actually not that troublesome. I'll start praying. Every paragraph, I'll leave time for you to repeat. The more devoutly you pray, the better and faster your Lord's fingers will recover."
Hearing this, everyone nodded without hesitation. "Please start."
So, Aldric held the giant's palm gently, closed his eyes, and began praying devoutly, "Oh Sun, Source of Radiance, shine on all things, bestow life with warmth and light, grateful for your eternal brilliance!"
Because the prayer was short and powerful, the giant's warriors quickly repeated it three times.
After three prayers, Aldric cast Purify on the giant, killing pathogens in the wound, followed by a flash of Holy Light in the night sky.
Under the dim moonlight, this faint golden light enveloped the giant's palm. He gritted his teeth, enduring the pain of the healing process.
When the light faded, although the severed fingers didn't grow back, the swelling was gone, and the wounds were completely healed, leaving only two smooth stumps.
"Bring a torch!" The giant ordered. A guard handed one over quickly.
In the flickering firelight, the giant examined his fingers, satisfied yet slightly regretful. "Pity they didn't grow back."
Aldric shook his head helplessly. "That I really can't do."
The giant nodded solemnly to Aldric. "Your treatment is much better than I expected. Kailin, bring ten Gold Dragons."
The warrior named Kailin took out a purse. The giant took it, counted ten Gold Dragons, and handed them to Aldric. "I know your rule. Having rules is good."
Aldric took the gold, smiling. "Sincerely hope you won't be bitten by dogs again."
"Hahaha!" The giant laughed heartily, then left with his guards.
Aldric didn't ask the giant's name because he didn't want to leave an impression of expecting favors.
However, from then on, wounded people were constantly sent to Aldric.
Some were Sheriffs who fell off horses and broke their heads after scolding subordinates in a hurry; some were unlucky guys who fell into traps and broke legs while peeing at night; there were even fools who dueled to death and injury over tavern waitresses.
Aldric could only sigh: he could cure stomach wounds but not brain damage.
Unknowingly, Aldric accumulated several hundred Gold Dragons. This money came easier than forging and selling armor.
As for the extra leather-faced iron armor made on Eddie's suggestion, not a single suit was sold by the time the army marched.
Finally, helpless, Aldric issued them to his warriors, one for each man.
Not only the Engineer Squad who didn't fight got equipped, even the snow bear Bell, who only sat on the supply wagon acting cute, got a tailored suit that fit surprisingly well.
As more people sought Aldric for healing, other Sheriffs in the battalion treated him increasingly better.
When Heart Tree sap ran low—marching to Barrowton, only one-sixth of the sap gathered from the Haunted Forest remained—Aldric had to announce stopping treatment for non-fatal injuries. Sheriff Anderson Barnes, who had secured the battalion leader position, only dared ask cautiously in a routine meeting, "Commander Aldric, we are warriors of the same battalion, not outsiders, right?"
Aldric froze, smiling bitterly. "If your subordinates get hurt, bring them to me first."
After over a month of arduous marching, the troops finally reached Moat Cailin—an abandoned castle at the northern end of the Neck.
As part of the North, Moat Cailin was an ancient stronghold of the First Men, now under House Stark's jurisdiction, but abandoned for centuries, uninhabited.
Yet, it still guarded the causeway allowing armies to cross the Neck safely, a strategic point defending the North against Southern invasion for thousands of years.
For invaders, winning an alliance with House Reed was almost the only way to pass Moat Cailin safely, as only Crannogmen knew the unmarked paths, narrow ways between swamps, and waterways in reeds.
However, given the ancient close relationship between House Reed and House Stark, this possibility was negligible.
Reaching here, Robb ordered a halt for a few days to wait for House Manderly's soldiers from White Harbor.
"Such an important place, how could the Lord of the North allow it to be abandoned like this?" Aldric pointed at the crumbling ruins, asking Rodney Colbert beside him.
"Do you think House Stark doesn't see the risk?"
Rodney answered, "Stark sees it; the man on the Iron Throne sees it too. Whether Targaryen or Baratheon, as soon as House Stark rebuilds this castle, it would be seen as a challenge to the Iron Throne."
Rodney Colbert, an old friend Aldric met when first arriving on this continent, was now paying respects to the ruins with him.
As Sheriff of Redstone Village under House Hornwood, Rodney personally led sixty warriors to join Robb Stark's army when banners were called.
He didn't expect Aldric to be in this army too, as a House Stark direct officer.
Because House Hornwood's troops were far from House Stark's column, they hadn't met.
Until the army camped at Moat Cailin, Rodney found Aldric by his widespread reputation.
Hearing Rodney's explanation, Aldric shook his head, somewhat regretful.
Moat Cailin was a shadow of its former self.
Walls were gone, only large blocks of black basalt scattered around; half sunk underground where ramparts once stood.
Of the original twenty towers, only three remained, covered in green moss and white ghost grass, tall and slender, tops broken, looking dilapidated.
The Gatehouse Tower was the largest, relatively intact but filled with lichen inside.
The Drunkard's Tower stood where south and west walls once met, named for its huge tilt.
Even so, Aldric could see that with enough men, these three towers could still choke this throat.
Any enemy daring to attack Moat Cailin must cross swamps full of black sludge, dry moats, and climb mossy walls.
Once the gate closed, siege engines couldn't be set up under the gatehouse, nor withstand dense arrow rain.
Even if Aldric wanted to take this fort, he'd have to send twelve Sunwalkers with explosive charges under Divine Shield to blow up the gate.
But in this world, besides himself, there was no second Sunwalker, no explosives, and no need to take Moat Cailin.
Withdrawing thoughts from history, Aldric asked, "How is your caravan business lately?"
Rodney Colbert smiled bitterly. "Almost can't go on. Since you escorted that trip, my caravan seemed targeted, always robbed. Several waves of guards died; even Craig was critically wounded, sent home to rest."
Aldric frowned. "Does House Hornwood ignore this?"
"They... sigh, intended to. But those horse bandits are elusive. Though we subordinates guess..." Rodney pointed secretly at the Flayed Man banner towering not far away. "But Earl Halys insists on catching them in the act."
"You led troops out, your brother Craig is injured, so only Harry manages the house?"
Rodney explained, "Harry is eighteen, must shoulder responsibility. Letting him manage family affairs now isn't bad. Anyway, the caravan can't operate. I left a few old hands to help him. With just those few small villages, no matter how he messes up, no big trouble will happen. Besides, isn't Young Lord Robb not sixteen yet?"
Put that way, Aldric couldn't refute.
"How far is that Heart Tree you mentioned?" Aldric asked about the Heart Tree.
"Almost there."
In his youth, running trade routes, Rodney spent over a year traveling the North, having friends everywhere.
So when Aldric mentioned looking for a Heart Tree, Rodney volunteered that he knew an ancient one in a forest southeast of Moat Cailin and offered to guide him.
Indeed, by afternoon, at the junction of swamp and land, Aldric saw a tall Weirwood tree with twisted faces carved on it, weird as always.
Under Rodney's confused gaze, Aldric cut the bark, completing the sap replenishment. As it was late, they camped in the Godswood for the night.
Returning to camp early next morning, Aldric heard an explosive order from Anderson Barnes: "What? Lord Robb is taking all cavalry, leaving infantry to Lord Roose Bolton?"