Game of Thrones: Lord of the Flames

The forest lay quiet, and a waning crescent moon cast its last faint light, struggling against the approaching darkness. Yet it was a futile resistance; soon, the world would be engulfed in the deepest hour before dawn.

"Lady Nara, I did a count… We've lost over thirty brothers."

"So many?" Nara's brow furrowed in disbelief. "But we didn't encounter much resistance when we broke through. How could so many have fallen behind?"

"It seems several of our people couldn't keep up with the group and got trapped back at the BlueSkin Clan's camp."

Nara nodded, then stood decisively. "I'll return for them and bring them out."

"My lady, you mustn't go back!"

"Yes, Mother, you may not make it out if you do," her daughter Natalie pleaded, clutching her mother's arm as if to keep her from vanishing.

"I have to," Nara said firmly. "I led them into danger, so it's my duty to bring them out."

"Then let us come with you, Lady Nara!" one of her warriors offered.

"No, all of you stay here. If I don't return in time, take Natalie and go."

"I won't go!" Natalie's voice wavered, her eyes wide with fear.

Nara gently patted her daughter's hand, giving her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, it may not be as dire as it seems. From what I've heard, that Riverland lord isn't a bloodthirsty man. Besides, the Crow Clan never got involved in Lenya's schemes, so he should have no reason to harm us."

"But still, you should take some protection, just in case."

"No need. If he truly means harm, even the entire Crow Clan wouldn't be able to stop him."

A heavy silence fell over her people, each weighing her words.

"The gods haven't given me any sign of warning," Nara added. "This tells me the journey won't be dangerous."

After calming her people, she set off, disappearing into the dark woods.

---

"So you're saying my new subjects now number over 9,300?"

"Yes, my lord." Gavin, with faint dark circles under his eyes, replied, "This is the preliminary count across thirteen clans. The final figure may vary slightly, but it shouldn't be far off."

Samwell rubbed his chin, thoughtful yet troubled.

An increase in population was typically a blessing, but this rapid surge posed challenges. Over 9,000 new people, added to the original 2,000 from the Tiger-Fang Clan, meant his population had skyrocketed past 10,000.

All within less than a month.

For a newly settled territory, this was less of a "population growth" and more of a "population explosion." And with their food supplies nearly depleted, such a spike only worsened matters. Originally, Samwell had planned to secure the support of Earl Paxter on Greenshield Island to sustain them, but feeding over 10,000 mouths? No reasonable investment would suffice.

His plan for brandy sales remained in its early stages and couldn't provide immediate income. Resigned, Samwell sighed and resolved to let the new arrivals sustain themselves.

"We can't afford to feed everyone. Release the 2,000 captives from last night; let them return to their usual hunting and gathering."

"Yes, my lord."

Gavin nodded, though with a hint of disappointment. Though he understood the constraints, it seemed a missed opportunity. Having the captives work on building the castle or helping with the distillery could have been immensely beneficial. But for now, they'd remain self-sufficient.

"About the welfare institute, my lord—should we exclude the elderly and children from these thirteen clans?" Gavin asked.

After a pause, Samwell nodded, steeling himself. "Bring them in. Otherwise, these clans may grow resentful."

"Yes, my lord."

Samwell sighed, acknowledging the urgency of his visit to Greenshield Island. Without additional resources, his people would be left to scrape by on what they could hunt and gather.

"Also, turn these thirteen clans into villages, just as we did with the Tiger-Fang Clan. Gavin, draw up a list of candidates for village chiefs, but remember to use 'acclimated' wildlings only."

Samwell's term "acclimated wildlings" referred to those who had mingled or intermarried with Riverlanders, such as Gavin's new wife, Una, and her brother, Ucha. Removing former leaders allowed him to install loyalists and better control these villages.

"Understood," Gavin noted. "And should we exempt them from taxes for three months, as we did for the Tiger-Fang?"

Though Samwell hesitated, he ultimately nodded. "Yes."

Winning trust was the priority now, and with these wildlings having little to offer, taxing them prematurely could create resentment. Still, in three months, he'd levy taxes—not just for revenue but to instill a sense of obligation. Even if the cost to collect outweighed the gain, taxes were essential to his authority.

After discussing further details on managing the new population, Samwell prepared to get some rest. But soon after, his servant Cato entered, announcing, "My lord, the chieftain of the Crow Clan requests an audience."

"The Crow Clan? Send her in."

"Yes, my lord."

Samwell hadn't expected this visit. He'd been disappointed when most of the Crow Clan had managed to escape the recent battle. After all, they knew the whereabouts of ghost-grass, a plant he believed could strengthen his mental attributes. He'd tried to reach out to them initially but had been refused. Now, it seemed their leader had reconsidered.

As he pondered this, a tall woman entered his cabin.

Her face was mostly obscured by a dark veil, but striking violet eyes shone through, and her dark hair fell over her shoulders. Her attire was a simple deerskin cloak, yet she exuded an aura both mysterious and regal.

With refined grace, she approached and bowed. "Esteemed Lord Caesar, I am Nara, chieftain of the Crow Clan. On behalf of my people, I extend my sincerest greetings."

(End of chapter)