On the banks of the Blackwater River, there is a three-story brothel.
A hand with a deep cut, the wound already scabbed over; a gleaming, sharp knife stuck in the table.
Eddard Stark was incredulous that he had only been away from home for two months, and that Bran Stark, who had fallen from the ruined tower and was in a coma, had almost been killed with this knife.
The assassin first set fire to the library tower to lure everyone away to put out the fire, then sneaked into Bran's bedroom to kill the unconscious boy. But the boy's mother was by the bedside, and she fought desperately with the assassin, grabbing the knife aimed at the child. The child's direwolf heard the commotion and came running, biting off the assassin's throat.
So the child's mother, carrying the murder weapon, traveled south to find her husband, telling him that a dark force was targeting the Starks. Perhaps Bran had seen something before he lost consciousness; someone was determined to kill him, even while the child was unconscious.
The sword is exquisite, its hilt adorned with intricate gold filigree patterns. It is forged from Valyrian steel, the sharpest and strongest steel in the world, whose forging method has been lost. Every surviving Valyrian steel sword is a unique treasure, impossible to replicate; the art of Valyrian steel forging has vanished.
This short knife is exquisitely crafted, longer than an adult's hand, shaped like a dagger, and is quite valuable.
Ordinary people can't afford this knife, and even if they have money, they can't buy it.
Even the finest sword must be befit a noble's status.
The deeply wounded hand, exposing the bone, belonged to Mrs. Caitlin Tully, and the knife was also brought by her.
"Whose knife is this?" Eddard asked, more to himself than to himself. He was furious, but this was no time for anger. Someone in Winterfell was trying to murder his unconscious son Bran, his wife had been injured, and Bran had been saved by the wolf he had raised.
"Mine!" Little Finger's right corner of his mouth curled up slightly, a half-smile playing on his lips. "This knife is mine!"
"Lord Petyr, I am grateful that you have settled my wife. I now need to track down the murderer who tried to kill my son Bran with this knife. Please don't joke like that."
"It is indeed mine." Littlefinger pulled the sharp dagger from the table and lightly tested the blade with his finger. "I lost a duel wagered to Tyrion Lannister, the Imp."
"Tyrion's knife? Why would he want to kill Bran?" Eddard didn't believe it. Tyrion had spoken harshly when he was a guest at Winterfell, but Eddard thought what he said made a lot of sense, and he liked Tyrion more than he liked Cersei and Jaime.
"Who can understand what the Lannisters want to do? Unless you secretly capture Tyrion and force him to tell the truth, who would dare to touch His Majesty the King's brother-in-law without any evidence?"
"This knife is the evidence!" Ed said in a deep voice.
Littlefinger chuckled. "Lord Eddard, how can you prove this knife belongs to Imp? You want me to testify? Forget it. I'd rather be killed by you right now than testify. The one who killed him wasn't Imp, but an assassin, who's already been killed by wolves—dead men tell no tales. Second, even if I testify that the knife belongs to Imp, who can prove that Imp ordered the assassin? Imp can just say my knife is lost, stolen, and I know nothing, and he can wipe the slate clean. Then I'll be imprisoned by His Majesty the King for the accusation, and the Lannisters will soon come and cut out my tongue and behead me. I'll lose my life, and you'll reap a complete defeat. This lousy idea of me testifying against Imp is brilliant!"
Ed hesitated for a moment, then said, "Lord Petyr, I need a room so my wife and I can be alone for a while."
"No problem, but I charge for services done here, that's the rule."
"Let's talk for a little while."
"Well, uh, for Mrs. Caitlin's sake, alright!"
Littlefinger and Sir Rodrik walked out of the room.
Ed and Caitlin hugged tightly!
"My lady, the Lannisters have murdered Jon Arryn and sent men to assassinate Bran at Winterfell. You must return to Winterfell immediately to protect the children. As soon as you arrive, send letters in my name to Herman Tauhar and Gabert Glover, ordering them each to send one hundred archers to reinforce the defense of Carlin Bay in the Neck. Two hundred archers are enough to stop any army from advancing north through the Neck. Have Lord Manderley expedite the repairs to the defenses of White Harbor and ensure the garrison is adequate. Also, keep a close eye on our adopted son, Theon Greyjoy. If war breaks out, we will desperately need his father's fleet; the Iron Islands can attack several cities in the Westerlands by sea."
"War has broken out?" Catelyn's lips trembled. She had never experienced war firsthand. Sixteen years ago, during the War of the Usurper, Eddard and she had hastily married before he led his army south. She remained in the North, and two months later she discovered she was pregnant. Nine months later, she gave birth to Robb. By the time Robb was a year old, the war in the South had ended, and Robert and Eddard had emerged victorious. Robert sat on the Iron Throne, while Eddard returned home in triumph, and they lived happily together for fourteen years.
Eddard held Catelyn tightly: "Don't be afraid, my dear. The Lannisters will never dare to attack the North unless they have the entire nation's military backing them, but we must prepare for the worst. The King is still unaware, and I must play this fool's masquerade, my dear. I must stay here and find evidence that the Lannisters murdered Jon Arryn…"
Eddard felt he couldn't continue. He knew it was incredibly dangerous; one wrong move and his life would be in peril. But he had the King, his greatest support, the King on his side. He prayed that this hadn't changed sixteen years ago. "The King is the supreme arbiter of law. Once I've ascertained the truth, I will go to see Robert. He's my brother, whom I grew up with. We joined forces to wipe out the Targaryens back then, and together we can wipe out the Lannisters again."
Lady Catelyn only wanted to return to the North with Eddard. She worried about her daughter and husband's safety, but she said nothing. The murdered Jon Arryn was like Eddard's own father; he was deeply devoted to Jon, and it was impossible for him not to avenge him. Jon was also King Robert's foster father, and similarly, deeply devoted to him.
Caitlin was speechless, her heart filled with fear, but she still nodded firmly to her husband.
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"There's one more thing, which is very important. Since the Lannisters are targeting us, they will also be secretly targeting the Tully family. On your way back, when you pass through the Riverlands, tell your father to order Edmure to return to the Riverlands immediately. Edmure is a filial son, and if he hears that his father is critically ill, he will rush back to Riverrun without hesitation."
*
While his sister and brother-in-law were worrying about their brother-in-law Edmure in a brothel on the Blackwater River, Edmure was with the Mountain in Rockfall. Throughout Westerling, cows from all over were flocking to Rockfall. Rockfall was a large city, once a glorious seaside town, but due to its decline, it had been neglected for nearly a century, with more than two-thirds of it abandoned. The Mountain and Jenny utilized these abandoned areas, providing housing for the dairy farmers and ordering them to repair their homes and contribute half a day each day to maintain the city walls.
Soon, a surge of construction work began in Cliff Rock City, with the construction of walls and houses underway. Those who participated in the repairs were granted free accommodation in the city for two months, without paying any rent.
Every day, the milk from the cows was continuously delivered to the Earl's large warehouse. Jenny and Maester Assa were responsible for leading dozens of female workers to sterilize the milk. Following the modern pasteurization method taught by the Mountain, the milk was processed to 60 degrees Celsius, not exceeding 70 degrees Celsius, and kept at that temperature for half an hour. The bacteria were killed, while the beneficial bacteria were preserved. Diseased milk was transformed into healthy milk, which was provided to more than a thousand professional soldiers and hundreds of nobles, knights, generals, centurions, servants, workers, and clerks of the Westerling family for daily consumption.
Edmure and his hundred guards drank fresh milk for seven days with the Mountain, eating milk cheese, milk bread, milk noodles, milk cake, and various delicious desserts made with milk and other ingredients, and not a single person was poisoned. Meanwhile, outside the Westerling family's territory, cases of illness and death due to drinking milk were slowly increasing.