Winterfell shrank behind him with every quiet step, the ancient stones fading into the dark until the keep was nothing but a silhouette. His cloak snapped faintly with the wind, the fur-lined hood casting his face in shadow as he moved with a purpose that had never carried before.
Not once did he look back.
Looking back was for open thoughts of uncertainty about their path, still attached to what they were leaving behind. He had burned through too many centuries and too many identities to fall into that trap once again. The only direction he could take was forward; that's all that mattered.
Ahead of him, the forest awaited, branches skeletal, snow muting the world until even the crunch of his boots felt like an intrusion. Behind him, his men moved without sound.
"Movement at the treeline. Two hundred paces. Slow. Likely small game."The captain's voice was hardly above a whisper.
He gave a small nod. "Ignore it."
They did.
The group advanced deeper into the forest, moving along a hunting trail packed firm from years of use. The moon was only a sliver, but that suited him. Darkness was an ally he understood better than most.
Hours passed in a steady rhythm. They crossed frozen creeks, glided between black pines, and carved a silent route south.
It wasn't until they reached the old stone way-marker, the one carved with the faint etching of a wolf, that he lifted a hand.
The formation halted instantly.
"We stop here."
He signalled them to move into a loose perimeter while he approached a fallen log dusted with fresh snow. He sat, letting the quiet seep into him, the cold biting through his gloves with sharp teeth. Jon's body wasn't weak by any means, primarily due to the essence. He was pretty much a step above what anyone could achieve mentally or physically, yet still, under-conditioned compared to how he'd lived previously. The chill still reached places previous vessels had learned to ignore.
"Perimeter secured," spoke one of his operatives.
He nodded, then allowed himself a rare luxury, a moment to think without urgency snapping at his heels.
"Captain," he said quietly.
The man stepped forward with silent precision. "My lord."
"We need a schedule adjustment. How much ground can we realistically cover by sunrise?"
The captain didn't hesitate. "If we maintain speed, twenty-five miles. Thirty if we push."
"Then push we shall," Jon said simply.
A moment passed, just long enough for Jon to glance at the man beside him, the hood not really hiding his sharp features and a calm demeanour. Calling him captain all the time was already starting to grate.
"From now on, you'll be Thane," Jon said, "It's about time you actually had a name to be called by"
The man blinked once, taken off guard, not displeased, if anything, just surprised and grateful. "Thane," he repeated quietly. "A strong name. Thank you, my lord."
Jon gave a short nod.
It was interesting to see they clearly had a thought process of their own, but they don't consider anything outside the built-in parameters. No protest. No hesitation. No questioning. While lonesome, true was the cursed beauty of loyalty forged through his power. My will was chosen. and absolute.
"We'll reach the eastern side of the King's Road at dawn," the Thane continued. "From there, we can break formation and adopt civilian veneer."
He nodded, a clearer plan for the coming weeks taking shape.
Trade routes, merchant popups and among travelling nobility and knights, gold will essentially flow like water. With six operatives, his own combat ability, and many more on stand by to summon, the next few months should be easy money.
As they resumed their march, the forest thinned. The faint sound of distant animals echoed through the forage.
Which fell away entirely as the first hints of dawn bled into the horizon. The King's Road emerged ahead, a pale ribbon of dirt and frost stretching southward like a promise.
"Shift Formation," he ordered. "We travel as a band of sellswords.
As they let the personas slip into place. They passed unnoticed. Toward a legacy no bastard could have dreamed of.
The King's Road was a living artery, slow to wake, slow to die. By mid-morning, the trickle of early travellers had swelled into steady movement. Wagons groaned under the weight of grain or timber. Merchants led mules heavy with winter stores.
Dusk settled quickly.
The forest thinned into sparse groves, and the King's Road straightened ahead like a dark spear. The noise of day travel died off, replaced by the quieter rhythm of evening, hooves in the distance, a faint river somewhere east, wind slipping between branches.
THREE DAYS LATER
The Riverlands opened before them, rolling fields, and the distant rise of banners from nobles and knights alike hovered over the fields of Atranta. The tourney grounds were already swelling with tents, merchants, and guards alike poring in early.
Jon halted the column on a ridge overlooking it all.
"There it is," he said. "Are our new beginning."
The Thane stepped beside him. "Our order, my lord?"
"We secure a standard camp outside the main encampments. "And once done, have a unit switch at and patrol around the clock".
"Understood."
Jon adjusted his cloak and scanned the field, which was loud and slightly chaotic.
"We also need intelligence on the three main categories," he said. "Capable merchants, ones comfortable dealing in bulk goods or under the board acquisition of goods. Smiths who have a decent reputation for reliability. Along with anyone with consistent ties to the capital.
"I want structured supply lines within this area before we leave Westeros, as not only would we have a constant flow of necessary resources, but of information, which could potentially allow me to station a squad of soldiers to keep everything running".
He nodded once. "We'll begin the sweep."
"And keep it subtle. No intimidation unless someone mistakes us for common rabble." Jon paused. "If that happens, correct them politely, but even then, be appropriate to whom no need to unnecessarily piss off a lord or his retinue, as that would cause unnecessary problems."
Jon surveyed the grounds again, then turned back toward the tree line and pointed.
"We'll set camp there. After that, I'm summoning long-range support."
Within the hour, their camp took shape. Once the perimeter was secure, Jon stepped toward an open patch of earth.
He called for reinforcements.
This time, twelve soldiers appeared: six archers, six frontier fighters. fitted with an improved version of ō-yoroi armour. Ideal for skirmishes or becoming game changers on the field indirectly.
Jon wasn't the type to drag things out. So he signalled them forward, step up, stand by, listen in.
They formed a line. He gave them names on the spot, one after another. Then he gestured separately.
"Split into two separate squads, with you choosing three archers and three infantrymen per unit, as your skill in your respective fields is pretty much relevant to each other."
And once complete, he then laid out the plan for the rest of this tourney's duration.
"I'm entering the melee," Jon said. " It's pretty much guaranteed I will take first place. That is not enough, as we need the prize money across each of the major categories. The archers, Dale, Renn, can secure third or second without drawing much attention. The Infantry Ivan, Daemon, will follow me to the melee with the same approach. Spread the wins.
Thane assessed the risk and brought up a valid concern. "And if someone notices the pattern?"
"Then you silence them because as soon as you touch your earnings, you are instructed to lead said winner along with their squadron leagues away and make way for Kings Landing," Jon responded
"The joust, though, is a different matter," he muttered. "Annoying, yet profitable." He hadn't jousted in this body lifetime, but lance-work wasn't new—different eras, yet the same fundamentals as the closest thing was a yari.
"You intend to enter my lord?" Thane asked.
"Yes, but not as Jon Snow, even though if I did, I wouldn't be let through, as they are usually restricted to knights", Jon said. " However, entering as a mystery knight is a different story. Through false hoods and a bit of gold, it should get me on the roster. And the mystique is popular with small folk and nobles alike, so even if I win and am requested to unmask, the blowback will be minimal, and my notoriety will go up significantly, which only betters our image.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Hope you enjoyed and noticed my slight improvement halfway through the chapters. Also, don't expect chapters within 2-3 days, as I have other commitments. But once I do return, I will give you guys an official chapter release schedule.