Chapter 82: R17
Chapter 17
Dreams
Edmure POV
The river water was lovely to swim in. As the heat of the summer was beating on me, the cool water was refreshing. The current was relatively weak today and no strong wind blowing. The sky was clear without any cloud near, letting the sunshine upon me. But somehow, everything felt weird, like I was missing something.
It was lonely that what was wrong, I was alone. It was some time I felt like that. Travels with Patrek, making new friends put my mind at ease. Now looking back at my reflection on the water, I felt lonely once again.
"What now?" I asked nobody. "Who am I?"
"Who, who," The voice from above answered.
Looking up, I saw a crow flying in the sky. With this sigh, everything began to fall. The wind picked up the pace, the clouds darkened the sky, the current started to flow fast, and the cool water became cold as ice. My reflection was gone as the red like blood water surrounded me.
"Who? What?" The crow asked, looking at me.
Before I could say something, I felt something bumping against me. It was a body, a body of a child, a little girl. Then one by one, more bodies started to float in the river. A boy, an elderly woman, a farmer, a knight, and everything in between. I began to pick one child after another to check if there were someone alive.
"Stop. Let them float. It is their fate. Fate," The crow says.
"Fuck fate," I answered and flunk a handful of water towards the bird.
Before it could hit the damn bird, the water freezes and falls back to the river. I looked at the ice near me, then looking around. Along the bank of the river, they stood, with blue eyes looking at me. A shiver ran through me, but I didn't look away from them.
"Fate, let it flow," The crow says.
"It is my rivers. It is me who decides who and what will flow through it," I respond and start to get to the bank.
Death wasn't something new to me. If I have to die again, I will face it head-on. It won't be like last time, covering in the corner and crying for help. As I climbed to the bank, the crow flew in front of me.
"Don't interfere. Let the fate flow," The crow tells me.
"I can't," I simply answer him. "It's my family we talking about. It's my duty to protect them, and I promise that I will protect them on my honor."
With those words, I went past the crow and stood before the horde of blue eyes. Before they could tear me apart, I woke up.
…
In the Lord's solar, I was greeted by my sickly father. He looked pale and had dark bags under his eyes. The wrinkles on his face become more notisabble. I knew that his sickness started to show up, and it only will become worse.
"Father," I greet him.
"Sit down, Edmure," He commands me. "The Lannisters are furious about what has happened in the Twins."
"If I am not wrong, it was Emmon who hired those sellswords," I reply.
"Yes, but those men came from our lands," He tells me. " I will have to get rid of these sellswords from Riverlands now."
"Let me do it, father," I ask him. "At the end of the year, they will be gone back to Essos."
"Very well, your promise for Mallisters was too hasty," He then informs me. "But it was a right one. The Twins have burned to the ground anyway, and we can't let something like this happen again."
"What Lord Tywin wants?" I ask.
"It doesn't matter what he wants. These aren't his lands to command for, but I still try to appease him for now at least." He notifies me. "Leave it to me. You deal with the sellswords."
"As you wish, father," I assure him.
…
Two months, in two months after the end of the Twins, things calmed down. To appease the Lannisters, my father decided to give the eastern village, where the Twins stood to Cleos Frey. Well, there wasn't anything there. He will have to build the village himself, of course with our workers.
The king didn't give much thought to any of this. Only writing a letter that demands an explanation. Father wrote one for the king and another one for the Hand. The blame won't come to us as the sellswords took it all.
Now people have become too distrustful of the sellsword companies roaming their lands. Well, it was time for them to go anyway. We and other houses had enough men to patrol the Riverlands, and merchants would have to buy their own security in the seas.
It took some time to gather all the leaders of the sellsword companies. The two most important being the leader of the company of Rose, a man named Howl. The other man named Oz was the leader of the Stormbreakers. Both sat in front of me.
"You take my men, and now you just dismiss me?" Howl asked me with a furious expression.
"Your men have left you on their own. I took nobody," I answer him. "You get paid for your services and have a passage back to Essos."
"So you getting rid of us?" Oz asked.
"You are sellswords, don't act offended," I respond to him.
"You're right. We become too complacent. Staying there made my men lazy it's time to go seek some battles," Oz just laughs at me.
"Fine, the longer I stay there, more and more of my men will want to have a family and make how in these lands," Howl agrees too.
After some more talking, I had promised them their pay and ensured their safety to travel back to the Essos.
…
In the following weeks, almost all of the sellswords were gone from the Riverlands. Days become peaceful, father got better of the late. I continued to learn from my father and intensify Samwell's training. While I didn't neglect my own training with a sword, I started to take a bow more often.
"Your hit is too weak, but more force," I command Samwell, as I deflect his strike too easily. "Again, you will never injure anyone with this kind of strike."
"I am sorry," He apologizes.
"It's fine. If you can't put more strength into it, you will have to use a heavier weapon." I tell him.
The mace isn't light by any means, but it isn't well balanced for Samwell. He just let it fall without swinging it as hard as he could. Samwell needs something with an edge to it, something that could chop his enemies. An ax might be good but, a one-handed ax is too short for him, and he needs one hand for his shield.
Even castle blacksmith couldn't find anything that would satisfy me. So I started to do my own design, brainstorming anything I could remember from my previous life. Maybe a metal bat or baton would work. So after a week of drawing and consulting with the blacksmith, I draw something that I roughly remember from India's history.
Khanda or something like that, it was called. In my design, it was a broad sword with a blunt tip that won't skewer anyone. One side is sharp, but another is plated, making it heavier and better for downward cuts. The hilt has a large plated guard and a spike that connects to the bottom of it. The tip could be used for offense or hold the sword with two hands.
After showing it to the blacksmith, he looked at me weirdly. Saying it would cut and destroy armor well, but it was way too heavy for one hand. Well, the heavier, the better. I ordered him to make it. And so, after weak of order, I presented Samwell with his new weapon.
"I know you hate hurting people, but with this sword, you won't have a choice," I tell him. "For now on, you will train with it until you can swing it as easily as any other sword."
"Is too heavy," He complained.
"Tell me, Samwell, what do you want in your life?" I asked him. He looked confusedly at me. "What is your goal? To just be a shadow to your father?"
"I want to see all the world's wonders, from the Wall to the bells of Norvos," Samwell answered with determination like nothing he has shown before.
"Good, it is a great dream to have, but do you think it that easy that there won't be any dangers for you?" I asked. He looked ashamed. "In the north, the wildlings raiders roam the lands, in Essos Dothraki will tramble anyone they see with their horses. No matter where you go, there will be a danger. That is why you need to be strong enough to be free to travel the world. I don't want to hear you complain about how heavy or hard something is. Every time you fail, I want you to remember why you try. I wish you to accomplish your dream and read a book of all your travels when I am old. I want my grandchildren to learn about the world from your books, so pick the sword and try again."
After trying a few times, he could barely lift his arms, but he still wanted to swing it one more time. Well, let's hope in five years he will get used to it.
…
After everything that happened, the year came and went. At the start of the new year, nothing seemed to happen. It was peaceful as it could be.
After implementing four crop rotations three years ago, the results finally started to show. At first, my father was skeptical, but now he was ecstatic. For secrecy, I didn't show it to Maester and anyone else, not even Starks. I convinced my father to keep it only in our lands for now. Most lords don't care about farming, so they won't notice that our lands produce more food than anyone else.
It will become an improved income for house Tully. Food in the North and Dorne were sparse, and we could sell it to them exclusively with good ties on both sides. Arianne tried to pry how I got some much surplus to sell. It wasn't easy to resist her charms, but I refused to reveal anything to her.
"I am pregnant," Arianne says to me one morning.
"Well, that was unexpected," I respond.
It was the first month of the year. I was thinking of what to do this year. Until Arianne told me that. It was a good thing. I needed an heir, with my father getting weaker with each day.
"Aren't you happy?" She asked, confused at my reaction.
"Of course I am. It just was unexpected that all," I quickly explain, I don't make her angry.
"Good, Maester Vyman said we should expect the child to be born in eight months," She tells me.
"It's great news," I reply.
Well, that was fast. The child will be five years old when the shitstorm begins. Let's hope it won't have to grow up without its father.