Eagle of the Valley of Ice and Fire.

Chapter 341 "The Fearless" Barristan

His body trembled violently, he coughed incessantly, his left hand barely supporting him on the bed. He took a deep breath, held it as if trying to suppress all the smell of alcohol below his chest, and then shouted loudly, "Lawrence! Lawrence! Where are you?"

Gilbert Farin rolled off the bed, covered his mouth and nose, grabbed the handle of the ceramic cup on the table, and gulped down water, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as if he were wolfing down cooked meat.

He tossed aside the ceramic cup, followed his body's instincts, and strode quickly to the wall, reaching for his sword.
Gilbert Farin's fingers suddenly grasped at empty air, and he glanced upwards, his eyelids drooping.

The sword? Where's the sword?

"Lawrence!" he called the servant's name again. "Where are you? Where is my sword? Bring it to me now! And my armor, I need your help." He turned to face the door, but suddenly stopped.

The door had been opened at some point, and five or six fully armed soldiers stood in front of it.

His attendant, Lawrence, stood in the center, tears welling in his eyes.

“What’s going on, Lawrence? Give me my sword.” Gilbert Farin spoke softly, as if a fishbone was stuck in his throat, and held out his hand.

"A sword?" Lawrence said, but drew his own dagger. "I cannot give you a sword, Lord Farin."

"What happened? Barristan is here? Is he in the city?" Gilbert Farin reacted quickly and asked anxiously.

Lawrence frowned in confusion. "Sir Barristan? He's certainly not in Storm's End. He's outside the city. How did he get in?"

“That…” Gilbert Farin’s eyes widened as six soldiers at the door surrounded him with swords drawn.

“You…you were part of the garrison, warriors of Storm's End…you…” Farin clenched his fists, his teeth clenched. “I never imagined you would become Joffrey’s lackeys, betraying me.”

“You are the one who betrayed us, Lord Farin,” a garrison soldier he did not recognize said in a low voice, his sword striking first and piercing Gilbert Farin’s chest.

"Cough—" Blood gushed from his throat. "I...I didn't betray you."

"You have betrayed King Stannis, betrayed King Robert, and most importantly, you have betrayed Baratheon." Another sword pierced through the back of Lord Farin, following the sound.

"Swoosh!" The sword pierced through his white cloth again and again, staining it red, then turning black as it deepened, flowing out in gushes, covering his trouser legs, soles of his feet, and the carpet.

The servant's face was the last thing he saw, and then the dagger pierced his body.

"May the Seven Gods bless you, Lord Gilbert Farin."

Everything before my eyes was blurry, as if shrouded in white mist, making all shapes and sizes indistinguishable, before finally plunging into darkness.

You're finished.

Gilberta fell silently.

"Clean up the room, put him in a basin of water, and carry him out," one person said.

Lawrence swallowed hard, looked down at Gilbert Farin's still-open eyes, squatted down, and gently lowered his eyelids.

The event happened quickly and subtly; no one noticed what was happening in the room. Lord Farin's room was on the second floor of the tower. The Golden Company soldiers on duty looked out over the tower, and a faint light shone from the window of the Westeros commander's room, which was called "Lord Farin." The light was neither extinguished nor flickering.

The soldier on duty turned around. Behind him was a courtyard surrounded by stone walls, where large quantities of captured supplies and grain carts were stockpiled. The soldier spat disdainfully. His brown skin was a characteristic of some people from the Eastern Continent. "Even the thickest city walls can't stop the Golden Company's hands from seizing treasures," he muttered the words his squad leader often said. His eyes swept over the vast stockpiles of supplies, and the scene perfectly confirmed what his superior had said. "Indeed weak." A smile appeared on his lips as he took a piece of tobacco from his pocket and chewed it lightly.

His gaze fell on the grain cart not far away. The cart was filled with many quivers belonging to Chen Yu, a soldier of the Golden Regiment. He didn't know if it was his eyes playing tricks on him, but he felt that the quivers were moving up and down, as if there were people underneath them.

He frowned, drew his sword, approached the now calm grain cart, and repeatedly touched the bottom of the cart under his quiver with the tip of his sword.

The soldier on duty reached out and moved the quiver aside, muttering to himself, "I hope I don't catch any slippery guy trying to steal supplies."

This is not surprising, as many newly recruited mercenaries like to take more supplies and run away when no one is looking. The Golden Company's attitude towards this is to punish them severely.

There have been precedents of people having their hands chopped off and being expelled from the Gold Societies for stealing honey and gold.

His sword seemed to have struck something and got stuck at the bottom of the carriage.

"What?" The soldier on duty reached out to grab it, his neck involuntarily touching the bottom of the carriage.

He only saw the usual wooden planks laid on the bottom of the carriage, but one plank was slightly raised, and his sword pierced it.

He used both hands to pull out the sword.

"Phew!" He looked at the sword and laughed.

His smile froze in the last second of his life.

The wooden board that had just been punctured suddenly loosened and was lifted up, and a dagger swiftly slashed across the neck of the soldier on duty, leaving a trail of blood.

Barristan lay at the bottom of the carriage, staring at the dim light cast by the carriage walls. He wasn't wearing a white robe or armor; instead, he had light, soft armor underneath him to reduce the vibrations from the bumpy ride.

His white hair lay scattered and messy beneath his face, a dagger clutched tightly in his hand.

When he was bored, he would cut his white hair into pieces, watching it grow shorter and more numerous, as if he were cutting his aging body to pieces with a long sword.

Night fell amidst cheers. Most of the mercenaries of the Golden Company were reveling, with only a few keeping watch from the city walls. Inside the castle, there were probably not many people patrolling.

He skillfully used his sword to pry up the wooden plank blocking the way above, and discovered that the area above was filled with quivers. In the instant the plank was lifted, he saw the Golden Legion Eastern Continent mercenaries on duty.

The mercenary was walking towards him.

Unfortunately, Barristan's dagger was lying in front of him, held in his mouth.

The unsuspecting mercenary exposed his neck to Barristan, who freed his hands, placed them on the mercenary's shoulders, pulled him into the carriage, and swiftly slashed the dagger across his neck. A flash of white light mixed with blood, before returning to stillness.

Barristan cautiously stepped out, hid the body in his quiver, drew his longsword from the carriage, and crouched down to slip to another carriage.

He bent down and knocked three times on the bottom of the carriage. "Action."

In an instant, dozens of soldiers were scattered throughout the courtyard surrounded by stone walls.

Barristan had visited Storm's End before, and more than once. King Robert, still a womanizer, occasionally longed to return home after having tasted the beauties of the Seven Kingdoms. As a result, he hosted quite a few banquets at Storm's End, and as a member of the Kingsguard, he naturally had to accompany him.

Moreover, many of his soldiers came from Stormlands and had a stronger connection with Storm's End than he did.

Todd was originally a villager from the surrounding villages of Storm's End, where he spent his days cleaning manure and collecting fertilizer for the noble lords of Storm's End. Roger, on the other hand, was the son of a hunter from Storm's End. His father had broken his leg while hunting and was taken to King's Landing by King Robert for treatment when he was young. Roger lived in Storm's End for nine years before moving to King's Landing.

They were very familiar with Storm's End, knowing every house, tower, and road in detail.

Roger pointed to the distant city walls, "There's light up there. If the mercenary leader had any brains, he would definitely choose to live there, since there are the most comfortable beds there."

Barristan nodded. "As planned, let's all set off."

He followed Roger and climbed over the back wall. The lingering smell of kitchen scraps filled his nostrils. Roger pushed open a door and, seeing no one around, invited them in.

Barristan entered the city gate.

Harry Strickland dragged his weary body as his servants wiped his face and feet.

“God, why do I have to do these pathetic things?” Harry sighed, reaching for the ledger. Even with his bleary, drunken eyes, he still checked it one last time. “Make sure that all the enemy food and supplies we’ve captured are counted by tomorrow and brought to my desk, understand?”

The attendant nodded and replied, "Yes."

Harry couldn't resist the sleepiness and lay down on the bed where Stannis had slept. "It's so soft, this bed, haha, so comfortable."

Before they could even get comfortable in bed, there was an urgent knock on the door, and a messenger rushed in.

"Fire! Lord Harry! Fire!"

"What!" Harry threw back the covers, a chill running down his spine. He pointed a large hand and shouted, "Quickly, put out the fire! These idiots who act stupidly at feasts! Don't let the Golden Company's wealth burn down! Hurry!"

"Yes!"

The servant stood there, stunned.

“You’re going too!” Harry Strickland kicked him hard.

"Oh, yes!" The servant stumbled and crawled out.

Harry Strickland blinked and shook his head repeatedly. "These idiots are enough to deal with the governors, merchants, and Dothraki of Essos. Do they even have the intelligence to run wild in this deep waters of Westeros?" He complained loudly, as if he finally had a chance to vent his frustrations.

"You're right." These words suddenly came from beside the bed.

Harry Strickland felt another chill run down his back, but this time it completely woke him up.

Barristan stood before him, sword pointed at his neck.

"Woo! ~ Woo woo! ~" The bugle call announcing the enemy situation sounded at this untimely moment.

Harry Strickland looked out the window of the castle tower. The gates of Storm's End had been opened at some point, and the banners of House Arryn were faintly visible among them.

(End of this chapter)