Eagle of the Valley of Ice and Fire.

Chapter 329: A Strategy
surrender
The more Elwood Meidou thought about it, the more he felt something was wrong.

He deliberately put his hand on the saddle, tightened the reins, slowed down the horse's pace, looked back at the towering battlements of Storm's End, and felt a little uneasy in his heart.

Gilbert Farring would surrender? Stannis had given him this castle. This was Storm's End, the heart of the Stormlands, the Baratheon castle that Stannis had always wanted.

Elwood did not believe in the loyalty of the knight's oath. How many rules are left in the world by the gods now? Those so-called humility, integrity, mercy, bravery, and justice have probably been abandoned by the world and thrown into the stinking river of King's Landing.

But Stannis's vision shouldn't be wrong. Gilbert Farring was one of his most trusted subordinates, and he even entrusted his only retreat to this knight.

Elwood did not believe in the gods, but he believed in the king's eyes, just as the king saw him.

Stannis had long expected that he would betray again. Although the king himself had not confirmed it and would most likely not come forward to testify in the future, Elwood Maydo firmly believed this in his heart. He believed that Stannis just didn't say it. A trace of hatred flashed through his heart, and for a moment he couldn't help but breathe hurriedly. The reins tightened slightly, and the horse moved forward a few points faster.

He threw the words behind him, "Let's speed up! Lord Farin is waiting for our good news!"

The gods are gone. Elwood looked at the edge of the hills in the distance. There was a line of mountains, with green plants below. Above them were the bald mountains and wild ridges unique to the hills. The rocks were bare and exposed, and many of them were hollow inside. The gods taught the world like this. From Storm's End to the hills, the road looked vibrant from afar, but further in, it was a desolate hill, without any substance, just useless stones!
Gilbert Farling had probably anticipated this, otherwise why would he have let him secretly find a way out of the city to avoid being discovered by the guards of Storm's End?
Sir Farin and I are both intelligent men. When Elwood thought of this, he could not help but draw a shallow arc at the corner of his mouth. Stannis was dead, and Shireen Baratheon was just a little girl. There was no need to defend Storm's End when the situation was hopeless. However, there were always some idiots inside the castle who insisted on some moral values. Ridiculous! Ridiculous!
For example, that fool Lomas Estermont, who was stubborn and loyal to Stannis to the extreme, couldn't even see the situation clearly, who would be the boss in Westeros and who would be the servant!
He shook his head, scolded, and the horse under him continued to run hard.

The wind raised by his galloping across the earth swept across the sleeves and armor on both sides of his clothes, scraping his cheeks like the back of a knife. He wanted to achieve great things, and he wanted to kneel before his lord.

"Hurry up, Dylan!" Elwood Maydo shouted from behind, "Gilbert Farling didn't give me any extra instructions, letting me do whatever I wanted. He only gave me a letter stating his attitude. This is a great trust that we cannot let down!"

Dylan followed on horseback, his eyes blinking, but his gaze never straying from Elwood Maydo.

He was very good at observing people's expressions and hiding himself, just like at this moment he clearly rode to the right side of Lord Ewood, but the latter turned his head to the left and shouted.

Two people riding two horses, the setting sun, their shadows noticeably lengthening before completely overlapping with the mountains.

In the dungeon of Storm's End, Gilbert Farling looked at the well-fed Golden Group mercenaries and asked, "Where is your superior?"

The mercenary touched his belly and bent down slightly. "I don't know, sir. We are separated. Our ship has been separated from the team and stranded. The captain is also missing."

"Yes." Gilbert Farling nodded, turned and left the prison, and said to the herald: "Take people to search along the coast of Storm's End, including the woodland, and catch the mercenaries."

"Yes!"

After the herald left, Gilbert sipped his drink alone. He sat at the desk and looked out the round window next to him. The sea in Shipwreck Bay was endless and the sun was shining brightly. It seemed as if there was no shadow of war and the whole place was peaceful and tranquil.

Just a few days ago, when I peeked out from this round window, which was only a few feet in diameter, I saw only the darkness of a storm and the layers of dark clouds rolling in the darkness.

He is gambling.
Gilbert picked up the glass and swallowed the bitter wine.

Queen Shireen, may the Virgin Mary keep you safe. In the harsh north, at least Eddard Stark will not bully women and children. The virtue of honor and shame of the Seven Kingdoms is hard to find in the south. Perhaps only the natural barrier of the Neck can resist the gradually decaying qualities and moral collapse of the southerners.

I hope that the long winter in the north will freeze Eddard Stark's chivalrous spirit forever, and let it settle in the frozen soil of the north, so that the princess can enjoy her innocence and simplicity forever.

He prayed with all his heart, addressed his prayers to the gods.

As for King Stannis's cause, he would fight to the death to protect the castle even if it meant going against the trend.

He sat like this, at his desk, until the wax ran dry.

At midnight, the hurried footsteps of the herald were heard from behind the door, followed by a knock on the door, "Lord Farin, we found the mercenaries!" Gilbert Farin opened his eyes, relaxed his tense waist, stood up, opened the door and walked out.

"lead the way."

"Yes!"

The herald walked in front, leading Gilbert.

The mercenaries on that ship were surrounded by the soldiers of Storm's End garrison. The one in the middle raised his head, exposing his neck, and muttered to himself: "If we were not starving and cold, we would not be troubled by you guys."

Gilbert drew his sword and approached slowly.

The mercenaries were tied up tightly with ropes, leaving them no room for resistance.

"Kill whatever you want, you stupid ass of Westeros!"

With the tip of his sword pointed downward, Gilbert crouched on the ground, his eyes level with the mercenary.

He shouted: "Garrison, retreat!"

The soldiers put away their swords and marched away.

Gilbert pinched the mercenary's round chin and asked, "Who are you fighting for? Why are you here?"

The mercenary in the middle smiled and said, "For the golden dragon, for the money, old man!"

Gilbert was unmoved. "The usurper has been harming this country for a long, long time. I have been seeking a true king."

The mercenary's expression froze slightly after hearing this. "You..." He narrowed his eyes. "Logically, you should have already found the wreckage of our ship. I'm afraid you have our brothers in your hands."

Gilbert held out his hand, with the fragment of the small flag with the Golden Company's emblem in the palm of his hand.

"Aegon Targaryen?" He asked in a questioning tone, as if seeking confirmation.

The mercenary hesitated for a moment, looked at Gilbert's determined eyes, and chose not to hide it. "Yes, the Golden Group fights for him and for credibility."

Gilbert let go of his sword, removed the dagger Stannis had given him, and cut the ropes that bound the sellsword. "Are you their leader?"

The mercenary nodded.

"Make my introduction," Gilbert said. "I will bring a great gift to the Targaryen."

"What kind of gift?"

Gilbert lowered his head and murmured like the gurgling water in the castle's secret passage.

"Storm's End."

(End of this chapter)