Eagle of the Valley of Ice and Fire.

Chapter 316 War Letter
The north wind was howling, and the bitter cold was sweeping across the river. The frozen soil had already grown, and the weeds had frozen into ice.

It's just that the ocean currents on both sides of the Trident River and the continent are always circling and flowing, the freezing point temperature quickly passes, the ice condenses and melts, the permafrost grows and then disappears like a burrowing rat shrinking back into the mud.

But everyone in Westeros knows that winter is coming, and no matter how dull and honest their hearts are, they must be vigilant, concentrate on farming and prepare for the winter.

The walls of Harrenhal seemed to be shedding tears. There were more and more residents here, and houses and villages were rising from the ground outside the walls. The large tracts of empty wasteland around Harrenhal were replaced by curling smoke, and the protruding chimneys were mostly made of mud. Bricklayers and tile makers from all over the riverlands and even the crown had settled down near Harrenhal. They were looking for work everywhere and wandering around the city of Harrenhal.

Tobho Mott's dwelling was in a low tower of Harrenhal, right next to one of the five fingers of Harrenhal that stretched out toward the sky, fitting in tightly like a baby grasping its mother's finger.

What is different from usual is that there is a statue of the Seven Blacksmiths in the hall of the low tower.

There were countless blacksmiths in King's Landing who followed him because of his reputation. Together with the craftsmen and servants of Harrenhal, they cleaned up the unused fortresses in the huge castle and housed the royal blacksmiths.

The golden dragons from the treasury are continuously exported in exchange for the labor of bed weavers, furniture carpenters and cooks.

Simon stayed in the butler's building in Harrenhal with the treasury account book in front of him. Although the Duke did not arrange any additional assistants or accountants for him, the person who could maintain the balance of income and expenditure of the declining Hean family was no ordinary person after all, and he still used his talents in an orderly manner.

Artis rode a tall warhorse, while Grey Wind and Adam the Mountain Cat roared and attacked at the front of the team. The blue-robed cavalrymen anxiously pulled the reins to calm the frightened horses, and whipped the whips hard to disperse the civilians around them to avoid being accidentally injured by the shadow mountain cats and dire wolves.

The roar of the dragon can be heard outside the city. The newly arrived civilians will look forward to it, but those who have already settled down have not put down their work. They continue to cultivate the land, work with their hands, and manage their own stalls.

With more shops, there are naturally more mercenaries coming here, including some from the River Reach. They can't help but lament why they left the River Reach earlier and didn't respond to the call of the old man in Oldtown to serve in the Hightower family, otherwise they should be making a fortune by now.

Hotels, taverns, and brothels sprang up everywhere, and some people even took it upon themselves to do some renovations on King's Avenue, mainly by clearing the weeds around the houses to make the exterior of the houses look clean and tidy.

Robb pulled at the reins and turned his head. "That will be it, Hand."

Atis nodded slightly, without refusing, and stopped to watch.

Robb Stark and a few of his Winterfell guards rode on horses, with Grey Wind running in front, baring his teeth and threatening Adam the shadowcat as he ran.

Adam was not fooled. He moved his limbs and quickly climbed up the tree, looking at the ferocious direwolf calmly.

The two ferocious beasts stared at each other, the surrounding war horses were trembling, and the blue-robed guards also focused their attention. Although they were familiar with the whereabouts of direwolves and shadow mountain cats, they were still nervous and held their swords in warning.

Atis let out a sound in the distance, and the shadow mountain cat Adam lay down on the tree canopy behind him, hid behind the tree, and then came out from the bushes on the side of Atis.

The Stark flag was raised for the last time in the riverlands, and the cold direwolf leaped in the wind onto the helmets of the Winterfell guards, gradually disappearing behind the wilderness hills in the distance.

Robb Stark kissed Jeyne's cheek, mounted his horse, and, dressed in the same armor as when he came, rode back to where he had come from.

Jeyne Westerling folded her hands and looked worriedly at Robb as he walked away.

"Prime Minister, I..." She couldn't help but speak when she saw Robb walking away.

"No," Artis interrupted Jeyne, "Northerners will not allow people from the Westerling family to step into the Neck. It is safer to accompany your son in the south and train him to be a qualified lord. Robb is a northerner who wants to become a man of the Night's Watch. I'm afraid it will be difficult for you to survive in Winterfell. Besides, a child cannot live without the company of his mother. Reynard Stark needs you, and the future Warden of the North and the Duke of Winterfell need you."

Jenny bit her lip, pursed her lips, and said no more.

She knew that in the nobles' game, especially in the south, there was little room for refusal. This was not the Crag, nor was it the Winterfell where Robb had described a warm and cozy relationship between master and servant.

The team returned near dusk. The setting sun was no higher than Harrenhal. The entire castle looked very gloomy and cold, with only a few gaps letting in the afterglow from the west.

"Woo! Woo!" The bugle sounded three times, and Harold Hutton's cavalry patrol finally arrived. Exhausted from nearly a day's work, they just wanted to find a soft bed to sleep on, or spend the night in a woman's arms. Harrenhal was not short of this kind of service for soldiers now.

What was different from the past was that a messenger had joined their team, a messenger from the River Reach.

Artis took off his armor and handed it to Sir Angay, then he placed his hands on the warm fire and listened to the messenger from the Reach.

The lords of the Vale and the Riverlands sat at the long tables on either side, examining the strangers from the Reach.

"Sea monsters attack the city, thick fog fills Old Town, dragon flames fall on the tower, Lord Leighton Hightower surrenders to Euron." Artis summarized the messenger's words, feeling surprised. He thought Euron would not choose to attack Hightower or Tyrell directly because they lacked naval power, but would choose to take a different approach and go straight to King's Landing. Unexpectedly, there were many more weirdos behind him.
"Lord Baelor Hightower and his nine thousand soldiers from the Reach are heading eastwards towards King's Landing." The messenger breathlessly informed Attis of the news.

Attis typed the letter without showing any ripples in his expression.

The messenger was sitting behind a long table in the front row of the Hundred Furnaces Hall, rubbing his hands and enduring the long silence.

But fortunately, the silence was ended by the intrusion of Simon the Butler.

He held the letter in his hand, with the Greyjoy coat of arms clearly printed on it.

"Prime Minister, your letter comes from the Iron Islands."

Artis took the letter from Simon and quickly scanned its contents.

The messenger's panicked voice sounded in front: "My Lord Prime Minister, Euron Greyjoy is used to bewitching people. If there are any words of framing, they must be words of instigation!"

Artis smiled and murmured what Euron Greyjoy wrote in the letter.

"Greetings, to all the lords of Westeros, from the Wall to Dorne, from Lannisport to Gulltown. I, Euron Greyjoy, will soon arrive at King's Landing, ascend the Iron Throne, and be crowned King of Westeros in the long winter, becoming the only king of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. I am now named Lord of Oldtown, and Leyton Hightower, patriarch of the Hightower family, will be the guardian of the South. Tens of thousands of troops from the Reach will join the Ironborn in their conquest. I will lead dragons and sea monsters to conquer Westeros, following the example of Aegon Targaryen, and unite the fallen Westeros."

There was already a lot of noise off the field.

"Dragons and sea monsters? Gods be to you!"

"Ridiculous! Ridiculous!"

"Kings these days are really jumping out one after another for people to laugh at!"

"Greyjoy's bastard is so stupid! I forgot he existed!"

"Haital surrendered? How is that possible!"

Attis didn't care and continued to read: "What I did was just, robbing and plundering in accordance with the ancient ways, but the gods taught you to be kind, so that the people under your jurisdiction would not be killed, and your wives and daughters would not be plundered as concubines. Surrendering the city will protect your titles and territories."

"kill him!"

The crowd off the field was outraged.

"Otherwise, when the tentacles of the sea monster penetrate your flesh and blood, when the flames of the dragon engulf your body, you will see how tall I am! I, Euron Greyjoy's tall shadow will bring murder and cruelty to take away everything you cherish!"

"presumptuous!"

Finally, a knight could no longer sit still. He stood up and said, "Prime Minister, there is no other way to deal with these Ironborn who only know how to plunder. A light cavalry can accomplish our goal and defeat them in one fell swoop!"

"They have dragons." The messenger reminded in a low voice.

"We have dragons too!"

Attis raised the letter and said, "Compared to the declarations of war I've seen before, this one is obviously much more verbose."

"Hahahaha!" Seeing that the lord was still in the mood to joke, his subordinates also joined in and smiled.

He put the letter into the fire and watched it turn into ashes.

"Euron Greyjoy says he is great," said Artis, his eyes sharp. "When his head falls from my horse, he will see how great I am."

(End of this chapter)