-85- Strategic planning

"Lord Gallen?"

In the garden, looking for her handmaidens, Margaery Tyrell was the first to spot Gallen lying on a bench. She did not approach but called out.

"Ah!"

Margaery's handmaidens, startled, lifted their skirts and ran towards her.

Gallen, who had been eavesdropping unwillingly, had to wake up.

Gallen sat up, yawned, and raised his right hand, waving left and right. "Good day, my ladies."

Gallen's friendly gesture did not ease the suspicion in the handmaidens' hearts. They all stared at him, their eyes filled with curiosity.

Their unusual behavior did not escape Margaery's notice. She sighed lightly and said, "You may leave."

The nervous handmaidens exchanged secret glances, bowed to Margaery, and left.

////The wiki said they're Margery 's companions and ladies-in-waiting, but what the author wrote does translate to handmaiden. Just saying ////

…

The garden was now empty except for Gallen and Margaery.

Gallen spoke first, "Lady Margaery, your handmaidens are both beautiful and lively."

Margaery smiled and said, "I noticed their unease and regret. Lord Gallen, can you tell me what happened?"

Gallen, looking puzzled, thought for a moment before replying, "I think I overheard their conversation and they might have thought I heard something important?"

Margaery's beautiful eyes blinked as she pressed on, "What did you hear?"

Gallen shrugged, "I was asleep and didn't hear clearly, but it seemed like they mentioned the name of the Master of Laws."

Hearing "Master of Laws," the smiling Margaery's fingers twitched slightly.

Margaery walked lightly towards Gallen.

With her small face tilted up, her clear and gentle brown eyes slightly moved, she said, "Lord Gallen, it seems you accidentally overheard something significant?"

Gallen stepped back slightly, his tone helpless. "Lady Margaery, your beauty compels me to be honest. I didn't pay much attention because, for me, it's not a secret."

"For example?"

"I am the chief officer of the Queen. I've been aware of some of Lord Renly's moves for a while."

Margaery's eyes trembled, "Queen Cersei is investigating Lord Renly?"

Gallen shook his head decisively. "Our Queen never concerns herself with these matters. This is the duty of her affair officers, especially mine."

Looking at Margaery, Gallen continued, "As a certain Lannister giant once said, serving the Queen is a traditional craft in Crackclaw Point. I just take preventive measures and investigate any unusual events around the Queen."

Margaery coldly reminded Gallen, "Lord Gallen, Lord Renly holds a noble status. He should not be offended."

Gallen spread his hands. "Although we have been quiet for more than a decade, Lady Margaery, you who are well-versed in history should know that in Crackclaw Point's eyes, there are only two types of people: the Queen and everyone else."

Margaery raised her eyebrows, staring at Gallen.

Trying to intimidate me with those big eyes again? Gallen returned her gaze.

Soon, Gallen sighed and looked away from Margaery's gaze.

Margaery slightly lifted her smooth chin.

Gallen spoke sincerely, "Lady Margaery, these are trivial matters, not worth your concern."

After a pause, Gallen continued, "I have no interest in guessing Lord Renly's thoughts. I only care about the Queen's safety.

I've done a preliminary investigation and know about the deep friendship between Lord Renly and the Knight of Flowers, but friendship should not outweigh family interests.

Please believe in our sincerity. I genuinely wish to see Lord Mace, whom I respect greatly, sitting in the position of Hand of the King, governing this realm."

Margaery's rose-red lips moved slightly.

She wanted to ask, if Mace Tyrell and Queen Cersei ever clashed, who would Gallen choose?

Margaery knew asking this would make her seem immature. At this point, Gallen's answer, no matter what, would not matter.

Such questions could only be answered when the moment of conflict actually occurred.

…

Gallen's current purpose was not complicated. He knew that great nobles like to hedge their bets and was just subtly hinting at Margaery.

He did not want the already clear scheming to become chaotic. The more complex the plot, the more likely unexpected events would occur.

Gallen couldn't change the nature of great nobles, but he could do his best and shift the topic.

…

Margaery glanced sideways at Gallen, her tone carrying a hint of acidity, "You are quite loyal to Queen Cersei."

Gallen bowed, placing a hand on his chest, "It is my duty and responsibility."

After this humble gesture, Gallen suddenly said, "Lady Margaery, I have a suggestion."

Margaery's eyes lit up, her smile blooming, "Lord Gallen, I always appreciate your suggestions. I am willing to listen."

Gallen hesitated for a moment before speaking, "The timing is not yet right. I am still of low rank. I will offer my suggestion the next time we meet."

He then looked regretful.

Margaery's beautiful eyes widened, and she couldn't help but glare at Gallen.

…

…

Randyll Tarly left Horn Hill again.

Taking advantage of his father's absence, Samwell Tarly left a letter of renunciation on Randyll's desk.

As he left Horn Hill, Samwell led an old horse, carrying only an unfinished book.

For Samwell, leaving quietly was his last bit of dignity.

…

Arriving at the gate of the camp of the Crabby soldiers, Samwell showed his first smile since leaving home.

Leading the old horse, Samwell approached the blue cloaks guarding the gate and said, "Good day, I am Samwell Tarly. I request to see Lord Gallen Crabb."

Samwell's size made him memorable, and the guard recognized him, "Good day, Ser Samwell. Lord Gallen is not in the camp at the moment."

Samwell opened his mouth, wanting to ask where Gallen had gone and when he would return.

But he didn't like to trouble others... Samwell nodded and said, "I'll wait then."

With that, Samwell walked to the other side and plopped down on the ground, wiping the sweat from his face.

The guard noticed that Samwell's old horse was trembling with every step and said, "Lord Samwell, your horse is very tired. I can take care of it for you."

Samwell then noticed the condition of his horse and, thinking of his own weight, felt sympathy. Samwell scratched his head awkwardly and said, "Then... please do. I'll prepare some compensation."

Samwell reluctantly looked at his only book. I need to finish reading it quickly!

...

...

Eastern Crackclaw Point.

The Crabb army's eastward advance had officially entered its second phase.

"Cliff Valley tribe, open the gate. We're here to invite you to join our territory!"

"We are all people of Crackclaw Point, and we shouldn't be fighting amongst ourselves!"

"Our lord is a descendant of the legendary hero Clarence Crabb; we used to be one under his rule!"

"We are all descendants of the First Men. We shouldn't let our own people continue to bleed!"

"Join us, and the lord will allocate your own hunting grounds. You won't have to worry about being invaded again!"

...

Reyna, with her hair tied up in a high ponytail, walked to Emer's side, tugging at her collar. "Emer, should we keep shouting? This tribe seems very stubborn."

Emer frowned and said, "Keep shouting. If they don't surrender by noon, have the sisters shoot five volleys inside."

Reyna accepted the order excitedly. "This tribe of only a hundred people, I don't know if we should praise their toughness. My throat is getting hoarse from shouting. We have several times more soldiers than they do, yet they still dare not to open the gate and surrender. They're asking for death!"

Emer added, "Don't disobey my orders and start a battle without permission. After the volleys, fall back. Also, when it's time to cook the meat at noon, pay attention to the wind direction and find a good spot."

"Got it, commander. We'll make them drool!"

Emer watched the bouncing Reyna and said, "We still have time. After shooting, continue to persuade them to surrender. The entrance to the Cliff Valley tribe is narrow and hard to maneuver in. If we attack by force, the casualties won't be small... Try to minimize the casualties, Reyna. That's the lord's order."

"Alright."

Emer and Reyna were longtime friends, and she knew Reyna very well.

Reyna was not tall and was rather thin, but she was very combative. Since joining the Thorn Corps, this trait had only intensified.

...

Emer slightly curled her lips and patted Reyna's small head. "Just take it as a break. We can't be fighting every day. Ser Mayson is restoring farming at the new farmstead; he needs more labor."

Reyna snorted lightly. "Emer, I don't need comforting. Like you said, let's just take it as a break."

Emer patted Reyna again before withdrawing her hand.

Emer had recently taken a liking to patting Reyna's small head; it was quite addictive.

...

Reyna's eyes shifted, and she said, "Emer, what's the point of farming? Our soldiers are growing stronger with every battle. We should just continue the conquests."

Reyna wasn't alone in thinking this way. In fact, what Reyna expressed represented the thoughts of most Crabb soldiers.

They had battles almost every day. Because they were in wartime, their food rations naturally increased.

Moreover, in most cases, they outnumbered their enemies and kept pocketing spoils of war. The soldiers had never lived so comfortably.

The commanders naturally noticed the soldiers' sentiments, and the experienced Phillip Rally could handle such situations well.

Emer was also constantly learning and growing.

...

Emer looked at Reyna and said seriously, "Reyna, haven't you noticed that the unnecessary casualties among the sisters have increased recently? Fighting is like drawing a bow; the bowstring can't always be taut."

Reyna's eyes sparkled as she looked at Emer, speaking in surprise. "Since when did you understand such profound wisdom? You've convinced me instantly!"

Emer's cheeks flushed.

Last time Emer saw Phillip, she found an opportunity to ask for his advice and secretly noted down some phrases she thought would soothe the soldiers.

Though Phillip was not very talkative, he was sincere. Or perhaps, to him, anything that benefited House Crabb would be done to the best of his ability.

Phillip told Emer that only words could soothe the soldiers temporarily. Relying solely on military laws couldn't boost morale. Commanders needed to master some methods to elevate and maintain morale.

Finally, Phillip shared some personal experiences and imparted some techniques he had mastered.

Emer cleared her throat and said, "Tell the sisters that the Thorn Corps will continue to expand. If you find suitable recruits, don't miss the opportunity. We don't have much time; Lord Gallen has big plans coming up."

The content of Emer's words made Reyna's eyes light up, and she nodded heavily. "Don't worry, Commander Emer!"

Emer waved her hand, as if shooing sheep. "Go make the arrangements."

Emer's dismissive gesture made Reyna feel closer and happier, thinking that the bond between them had suddenly deepened.

Reyna saluted solemnly and left, throwing herself into her duties with excitement.

Emer watched Reyna's departing figure, pinching her chin.

Emer nodded to herself, it really worked!

...

...

Crabb's camp, deep into the night.

When he left Dyre Den, Samwell Tarly didn't take even a single Copper Star with him.

Samwell felt that since he had chosen to leave Horn hill, nothing there belonged to him anymore.

The old horse he used for the journey and the book he hadn't finished reading were just borrowed; he would arrange for them to be returned.

Perhaps, before leaving home, Samwell had unconsciously defied his terrifying father once.

...

Having waited at the camp gate for Gallen, Samwell was feeling dizzy with hunger.

Although the guard brought him dinner, Samwell refused it.

Samwell believed that since he hadn't officially joined, he shouldn't enjoy their food prematurely.

[Westerosi Scholar's Integrity]

Samwell shifted his wide frame and continued to read his book by the campfire.

Books allowed Samwell to forget his inner anxiety and physical hunger.

...

Tomorrow was the day of departure. After the banquet, Gallen left Highgarden Castle with his guards.

Including tonight, Gallen had almost helped Lord Mace perfect the war theory centered on "achieving through non-contention."

Gallen believed that Lord Mace wouldn't need his help in the future and could handle most situations with the new theory, continuing to build his own reputation.

This was exactly what Gallen hoped to see.

No matter how nominal Lord Mace's title might be, he was the leader of the Reach, and his influence there couldn't be ignored.

Since gaining the ability to enhance his own reputation, Lord Mace would tirelessly promote his unique war strategy at every opportunity.

The ever-prospering House Tyrell would also quietly exert its influence.

The rise in the head of House Tyrell's prestige would benefit their control over the Reach.

What was Gallen's ultimate goal?

As hinted before, after entering the Reach, Gallen felt uneasy about its prosperity.

Gallen's deepest "wish" was that this strategy, tailored for Lord Mace, would subtly take root in the hearts of the people of the Reach.

In the future, as long as the fire didn't reach them, the Reach shouldn't move lightly.

...

The more he understood, the more Gallen felt that the Reach, under the governance of the ever-prospering House Tyrell, was too powerful.

If he were the leader of the Reach... Gallen might use the Reach to unify Westeros and then govern the kingdom with the people of the Reach, as its size could absorb Westeros after the war.

Among the Seven Kingdoms, only they had the strength to accomplish this.

Inherited traditions and comfortable lives had bound the ambitions of the Reach.

Gallen, on this basis, used an easily accepted new theory to subtly tie the Reach with an invisible rope of "stability."

Astute Gallen thought: Before I grow, the Golden Rose must maintain its proper demeanor. We must adhere to the rules of the power game and not overturn the table.

...

Approaching the camp, Gallen first noticed the large figure by the campfire.

Samwell? Gallen's eyes flickered, and he quickened his horse's pace.

"Samwell, it's good to see you again!"

Gallen dismounted and walked toward Samwell with open arms.

Hearing the hoofbeats, Samwell put away his book and shakily stood up.

Seeing the smiling Gallen, Samwell felt a slight relief in his heart.

According to proper etiquette, Samwell should have sent a letter in advance and received Gallen's consent before visiting.

Seeing that Gallen didn't mind this, Samwell felt he had indeed judged him correctly. Lord Gallen was a broad-minded person, and his future accomplishments would surely be extraordinary, given his appreciation for knowledge.

The two contrasting figures, one fat and one thin, embraced briefly.

Gallen glanced at the book in Samwell's hand with a smile and said, "Samwell, I'm the one who's late. Come, let's go inside."

Samwell shyly shook his head.

Noticing Samwell's hesitation, Gallen gave him an encouraging smile without moving.

Gallen's gesture seemed to silently encourage the nervous Samwell.

After a pause, Samwell finally gathered his courage. He remembered many beautiful phrases he had read.

Although the thought was noble, when Samwell spoke, it came out blunt and straightforward.

"I... I want to serve you, Lord Gallen..."

Gallen raised an eyebrow, his eyes smiling, his lips curling slightly.

Gallen thought that what Samwell needed now wasn't polite words but rather reassurance for his uneasy heart.

Gallen removed his sword from his waist, holding it vertically before him with both hands. "Samwell, I believe you've noticed, I have always desired your exceptional wisdom. Swear your loyalty."

Samwell's eyes reddened, and his bulky frame wobbled as he clumsily knelt on one knee before Gallen. "I, Samwell Tarly, swear my loyalty to you. I will offer you my counsel, and in times of peril, I am willing to lay down my life for you. From this day until my last, I swear by the old gods and the new."

Gallen nodded slightly, his voice steady and solemn, carrying a hint of gravitas. "I, Gallen Crabb, vow that there will always be a place for you by my land, meat and drink at your table. I swear never to ask you to perform any unjust act. I swear by the old gods and the new."

[Crabb Territory Intelligence +1]