Chapter 6 Honor cannot be tarnished

"It's hard to imagine who taught you your swordsmanship? This is not the way your father used a sword."

In the school grounds, Clay, who was sweating profusely, completed a basic set of Wolf School swordsmanship as fast as he could. A huge half-hand sword drew traces of death around him.

Sir Roderick pinched his chin covered with gray beard and sighed.

In the eyes of him, an expert who has used swords for decades, Clay's swordsmanship, if paired with stronger strength and faster speed, would be far more effective in close combat than the swordsmanship he had mastered.

This made him doubtful. As far as he knew, the swordsmanship of the Manderly family in White Harbor was in the same vein as that of Winterfell. When Wendel competed with him, he only relied on his big man. The swordsmanship was actually much rougher than his own. .

"Essos is a land full of dirt and evil, but you have to admit that sometimes useful things can be found in the garbage."

Clay didn't answer the question and attributed the origin of this set of swordsmanship to Essos' travels.

For the traditional small nobles of Westeros, their impression of Essos is nothing more than a few words: iron bank, trading city-state, slavery, Dothraki barbarians, and Valyrian ruins.

Except for those materialistic trading city-states, there is no word related to the chivalry and sense of honor advertised by the Westeros nobles. It is all barbarism and violence. Therefore, except for a few trading city-states, No one except the nobles was interested in that land.

"Rob, is there any news about White Harbor from Maester Luwin?" Clay turned and asked Rob, who was teaching his younger brother Bran to archery.

"Maybe. A raven arrived at Winterfell this morning. My father didn't look very good, so I didn't dare to ask." Leaving Bran who looked reluctant, Robb lowered his voice and said.

This is already Clay's third day in Winterfell. According to the flying speed of the raven, today should be the day when Winterfell receives a reply from White Harbor. Clay believes that his old man will not delay.

In the past three days, Clay has become familiar with several Stark brothers and sisters. Bran and Rickon are still young and a little afraid of strangers. His younger sister Vera has long been involved with the two young ladies of the Stark family. The three girls They huddled together and muttered, which had already made the disciplinarian complain several times.

Clay's trip to Winterfell, in addition to proving his identity to the entire Northern Territory, is actually more important to him. He is actually going to get in touch with the Stark family's godswood. His goal is the largest in the entire Northern Territory. That weirwood.

The belief in the Old Gods is deeply rooted throughout the North. Unlike others, he knows very well that the weirwood itself actually contains rich magic power, and Clay's thirsty magic pool needs it to be filled.

As for the Sentinel Bark, the final ingredient of the grass decoction, Clay is not too worried. As long as he has the opportunity to go out of the city, he can find this kind of tree in the huge Wolf Wood. If not, it is also available in the warehouse of Winterfell. However, if it takes too long, the effect cannot be guaranteed.

While everyone was chatting, a Winterfell guard wearing a direwolf smock entered the school grounds and whispered a few words to Ser Roderick.

"Rob, and Clay, Sir Ed is looking for you. You go to the study of the main castle to meet him." Sir Roderick interrupted everyone's chat.

Clay and Rob looked at each other and nodded. Clay had never been to the main castle, so he could only let Rob take him with him.

Arriving in the study, Eddard Stark stood in front of the fireplace.

"You are here." Duke Ed's voice was calm, but his entire face seemed to be frozen together, with ice that could not melt even in the middle of summer.

He first looked at Clay: "Clay Mandler, Count Wyman's reply letter proving your identity has been received. I have ordered the bachelor to explain it to the entire Northern Territory."

When Clay heard this, he felt slightly relieved. At least he had the support of the Mandalay family, and at least he had a place to stay in the troubled times.

But then he felt strange that this letter seemed to make Duke Eddard feel bad for no reason. Now it is estimated that even a piece of carbon picked out from the fireplace would be extinguished by the warmth of his face.

"Now, Clay, go back and take your guards. Robb calls Bran and the others and follow me out of the city. There is an oathbreaker who will be judged."

On the way back, the confused Rob frowned and didn't notice the stiff expression on Clay's face who was following behind.

Clay was screaming in his heart, if there was no accident, this so-called Oathbreaker was the deserter who survived the ambush by the White Walkers.

After experiencing so much, Clay finally found his place in the year 298 of the Conquest Calendar.

From bystanders to witnesses, an inexplicable sense of excitement filled his body. He hurriedly separated from Rob, and an order was issued that all White Harbor soldiers must assemble within half an hour.

The captain of the guard who led the team resolutely carried out Clay's order, kicked and hit him, and finally got the White Harbor Guards who had become lazy in Winterfell back into a neat formation.

Half an hour later, the cavalry teams of the two families left the north gate of Winterfell amidst the rumble of horse hooves.

The captured prisoners have already been taken to an abandoned manor outside Winterfell. This is the execution ground where the Stark family enforces the laws of the kingdom.

More than fifty riders stopped at the gate of the manor. The direwolf flag and the mermaid flag were flying high. Bran, who was watching the execution for the first time, was a little scared and hid behind Jon, not daring to watch.

The prisoners who had fled all the way from outside the Great Wall were covered in frostbite, and the black uniforms of the night watchmen were in tatters, revealing the purple body underneath.

Clay knew why Duke Eddard's face was as cold as ice. He valued honor and was disgusted with such deserters who broke their oaths. If it were the nobles in the south, if this deserter's family had some money, they might be able to buy a life, but in this case Here, getting your head chopped off is the only ending.

He understood the purpose of Duke Ed calling him here. As the leader of the North, he wanted his juniors to understand the importance of law and honor, which of course included Clay, the heir to White Harbor.

The prisoner was pressed down on the hardwood where he had been beheaded. Clay knew very well that he was afraid, not only because of death, but also because of the unknown massacre in the ghost forest.

Lord Eddard got off his horse, and Theon Greyjoy, whom Clay had not seen many times, handed him the Stark family sword Ice.

He took off his gloves and picked up the dark Valyrian great sword with both hands. Although his voice was loud, it was hard to say dull: "With the kings of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the 'First Men', the Seven Kingdoms In the name of Robert I of House Baratheon, Ruler and Warden of the Realm, I, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, Eddard of House Stark, hereby sentence you to death."

With a swing of the sword, the head fell to the ground, and the smell of blood filled the grass of the execution ground.