Game of Thrones: The Impaler of the Blue Fork

Chapter 107: Damp Firewood in the Snowstorm and Silver Sent to Casterly Rock

In the refugee camp on the south slope, fifty mercenaries from Seagull Town occupied the dozen or so of the most spacious wooden sheds in the camp.

The hundreds of refugees who originally lived here were herded like livestock to the most leaky, dilapidated shacks on the very edge of the camp.

They didn't even dare to cry loudly, for fear of disturbing the plague gods with crossbows.

Gareth stood at the edge of the camp, watching it all unfold.

His hand remained on the hilt of the sword, his knuckles turning white.

But he did not draw his sword.

He entered the stone tower, stepping on the cold stone steps, climbing up one level at a time.

He knocked on Otto's study door.

"My lord," Gareth's voice was hoarse, "they're not here to help defend. They're here to leech off us."

"I know."

Otto didn't look up; he was looking at a ledger of supplies that Pollifer had just delivered.

"They consume fifty catties of meat, two hundred catties of oats, and more than a dozen bundles of firewood from us every day. They also deduct two silver deer coins from each person's paycheck as military pay."

Gareth clenched his fists even tighter.

"Sir, how many of our refugees haven't had a bowl of hot porridge for three days? If this continues, the southern slope will become a mass grave before spring even arrives!"

"Those filling the mass graves won't be our people."

Otto finally raised his head and looked into Gareth's bloodshot eyes.

"Gareth, I need you to do something."

"What is it?"

"Go and comfort those refugees. Tell them that as long as they survive this winter, each of them will receive a piece of farmland, an ox, and a bag of seeds."

Gareth paused for a moment.

"Sir, we simply don't have that many tractors and oxen..."

"A pie drawn on the wall is still a pie."

Otto's voice was as calm as a stagnant pool.

"At least it's more effective than the knives those guys in Seagull Town have."

Gareth remained silent for a long time.

He turned around and walked out of the study.

His figure appeared exceptionally lonely in the dimly lit corridor.

a few days later.

Maria Frey, dressed in a heavy fox fur robe, pushed open the door and entered.

In her hand, she held a bill stained with unknown dirt, which had just been retrieved from the deepest sewers of King's Landing through the "Blackwater Network".

"grown ups."

Maria walked up to the mahogany table.

"We have news from King's Landing. We finally know where Petyr Baelish got all those extra golden dragons to buy up our steady stream of silver over the past six months."

Pollifer immediately stepped forward.

"Seagull Town is profiting from the price difference."

A cold glint flashed in Maria's grey-brown eyes.

"Littlefinger is not only draining seventy percent of our blood, he even disguised our refined raw silver, engraved with the double-headed eagle pattern, as high-priced hard currency transported from across the Narrow Sea, and directly deducted it from King's Landing's biggest creditor—Castlerock in the Westerlands."

Pollifer gasped.

"He's using our blood and sweat to fill Tywin Lannister's hole, and even making a fortune in the process?!"

Otto was not shocked.

Tywin Lannister.

Otto pronounced the name.

On the continent of Westeros, if Littlefinger is a bloodsucking viper hiding in the gutter, then Tywin is a lion who cares about the family's reputation and will not tolerate anyone taking even a penny from him.

If this lion knew that it had been slaughtered by the Chancellor of the Exchequer, and that it was being exploited in a cheap silver mine secretly mined by a minor baron in the Riverlands.

"Go and call Cole."

Otto looked up.

"Send him to the earthen kiln. Melt down the purest batch of raw silver and cast it into a ten-pound silver brick. Deep within the brick, carve the double-headed eagle of the Blue Fork River in a subtle pattern."

Pollifer wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.

"Sir, you mean to..."

"Send the fastest smuggling ship to bypass the Seagull Town route and head directly to Lannisport in the West."

Otto tapped his finger on the table.

"Sell this silver brick to the purchasing manager of Casterly Rock at 20% below market price. Also, send him a message."

"Someone has stolen the profits that rightfully belong to the Lion King in King's Landing. Bluefork River is willing to provide Casterly Rock with purer, cheaper ore, without it passing through anyone's hands."

"Sir, this is too risky!"

Maria's expression changed slightly.

"If Tywin Lannister felt offended, or if he simply didn't want to get involved, he could have just handed the silver brick over to King Robert of King's Landing..."

"This is a gamble."

Otto turned around and looked out the window at the raging snowstorm.

His left thumb rested on the knuckle of his index finger.

"Tywin is a man who cares about his family's reputation and has an absolute desire to control gold coins."

"If he knew he was being taken advantage of, he might not immediately turn hostile over my few empty words, but he would definitely send someone to investigate the authenticity of this silver brick, to test the quality of us, this 'new meat'."

Otto walked to the brazier, the dry heat scorching his slightly tired face.

The firelight danced in his eyes.

"He will definitely send someone. It could be a spy, or it could be 'bandits' coming with knives to collect debts."

"As long as his men get to this muddy place, I'll have a way to make this deal with him."

Otto turned around and gave Pollive a sensible order to clear the area.

"Tomorrow morning, you will go to the south slope in person. With my stamped warrant in hand, tell those fifty mercenaries from Seagull Town that the flood control canal needs to be urgently reinforced before the spring flood season."

"Starting tomorrow, transfer all the refugees from the south slope, including Gareth, to the workshop area outside the inner fortress to work day and night."

"But sir, such a big move will definitely attract the attention of Hawke and his gang of scoundrels..." Pollifer said.

"Not only will they not stop it, they will wholeheartedly support it."

Otto was all too aware of the greed and shortsightedness of those mercenaries.

"Tell Hawke that after the refugees leave, the entire camp on the south slope, all the firewood, and the remaining livestock will all be given to those fifty people to enjoy alone."

"They no longer have to endure the stench and cries of the refugees."

"What if the people from the West really come with knives?"

Maria looked at Otto, her voice very low.

Otto's Adam's apple bobbed slightly.

He looked out the window at the southern slope campsite that was about to be completely cleared out.

"If Tywin's dogs need to kill a few people to establish their authority, or need a testing stone to see our reaction..."

Otto took a deep breath of the dry, hot air mixed with the smell of charcoal ash.

He tore the intelligence fragment bearing the secret seal of Seagull Town into pieces and casually tossed them into the burning brazier.

"Then let Hawke and his fifty men receive our distinguished guests from the West."

"Whether they survive or not is not my concern."