The Free Cities are not just cities like Myr, but also manors and towns attached to them. Myr's agriculture is also good, with Firegrass Manor and Firewine Manor.
After Gendry and Qyburn left Myr with 'Fatty', they saw the Wolf Pack Company's camp, the 'Wolf's Den', by a river in the Disputed Lands. Though small, the Wolf Pack Company still held itself to strict military standards.
"No exaggeration, the Wolf Pack Company's discipline is one of a kind, perhaps comparable to the Golden Company," Fatty said proudly. "After all, our ancestors were elite soldiers under Lord Cregan, not a rabble of thieves and murderers."
Gendry observed the Wolf Pack Company's defenses; this Mercenary group was indeed relatively well-organized. Deep trenches were dug around the camp, filled with sharpened stakes; tents were arranged in rows, leaving wide passages. Latrines were built by the water, with all waste carried away by the current. Horses were tethered uniformly to the north.
Tall Lookout towers stood around the camp, and the Lookouts were cautious and vigilant.
"Moreover, the Governors don't like Mercenaries fighting each other in Myr. But in the wilderness, every Mercenary company has a few enemies, except for the Golden Company. They are too large, too strong, almost like a regular army!" Fatty explained.
"How many men does the Golden Company have?" Gendry asked curiously.
"Probably over ten thousand! They are essentially an army disguised as a Mercenary company, the offspring of the Blackfyre Rebellion exiles, the ghosts of Blackfyre! I'm not sure of the specifics, but just don't provoke them!" Fatty shrugged.
A Mercenary company of ten thousand is unique in the Disputed Lands.
"Alright! Let's go in!" 'Fatty', dressed in brown leather armor and a grey cloak, led the way. The guards at the camp entrance recognized the recruiter.
A moment later, a burly, strong man with a long scar running from his lower cheek to his nose emerged from the camp gate.
"Good to see you, Fatty! I thought you brought us a new client!" the scarred man said, then gave him a hug.
"Worse than you think, no new clients, but I've brought new blood!" Fatty said with a smile, introducing them.
"Who are these two?"
"Iron Hammer, a good Boy who is not only strong but was also a blacksmith's apprentice."
"Qyburn, an old man who, though old, is also a well-trained doctor."
Fatty then introduced the scarred man to the two. "The Handsome Man, our Wolf Pack Company's infantry officer, skilled with the Morningstar, long knife, and longsword."
Gendry and Qyburn greeted The Handsome Man.
"Compared to this young man, what kind of Handsome Man am I!" The Handsome Man laughed heartily. "Come on, the commander is waiting for us in his tent!"
The Wolf Pack Company commander's tent was large and spacious, flying the tallest and oldest banner, depicting wolves in a charge, with different fill colors on the banner, likely patched up when damaged.
"This banner is over a hundred years old, from the time of the wolves in the Dance of the Dragons until now!"
The group entered the tent, where weapons like Morningstars, chainmail, warhammers, and Longspears hung on racks. The Wolf Pack Company commander sat on a campaign chair; he was a robust man with a Greybeard, grey hair, and grey eyes. To his left sat a smiling, tall man with purple beard and hair, appearing oiled. To his right was a shadowy figure, cloaked in an unusually beautiful green and orange feathered cape, clearly from the Summer Isles.
"Our commander, Greybeard! Our treasurer, Long Legs! Our archer officer, Black Billy." Fatty introduced. "Qyburn, the old man skilled in medicine. Iron Hammer, the strong Boy, and a blacksmith's apprentice!"
Then Fatty stepped forward and whispered a few words to Greybeard and the others.
"With the old man joining our company, our Old Dick will have a companion!"
"It's an honor!" Qyburn replied gracefully. Dick, it seems, is also an old man.
"Child, Fatty says you're very strong, why don't you show us what you can do?" Black Billy asked curiously.
"That's easy!" Gendry picked up a large adult warhammer and swung it with ease.
Greybeard and the others watched his footwork, movements, and facial expressions. The warriors could discern his skill and strength; Gendry was unhurried, at ease, and capable of wielding the great hammer well. Considering his age, he was naturally gifted with strength.
"Welcome aboard! From now on, you are brothers of the 'Wolf Pack', roar with the Wolf Pack!" Greybeard said loudly, then embraced them one by one... In a Brothel in King's Landing, in the deepest, most secluded room. Many Brothels in King's Landing were Littlefinger's property.
Littlefinger Petyr and Varys the Master of Whisperers sat opposite each other in the room, a contrast of thin and plump.
Littlefinger was slender and agile, shorter than a normal male, with a pair of smiling grey-green eyes. He had a small beard on his chin and a few silver strands in his black hair, though he was not yet thirty. His cloak was fastened with a silver mockingbird. Varys was plump, heavily perfumed, and his head was bald like an egg. He wore a loose purple silk robe and velvet slippers.
"Your silver mockingbird, it truly brings joy to behold!" Varys praised.
"Thank you for your compliment, my old friend! Any news recently? You seemed quite eager to see me!" Littlefinger said with a smile.
"There is indeed one piece of news!" Varys said. "A blacksmith's apprentice has disappeared, causing his good master much distress! The Child's hidden letter said he went to The Reach, but he might also have gone to sea!"
"An apprentice? Blacksmith's apprentices are everywhere in King's Landing, and occasionally losing one isn't a big deal. Perhaps the Child couldn't stand the heat or his master's exploitation!" Littlefinger shrugged.
"Perhaps! But I thought, if that particularly handsome and strong Boy slipped away from the docks, from the gates, your people might occasionally notice!" Varys said. "Who doesn't know, our Lord Littlefinger is loved by everyone; customs officials, the Gold Cloaks of King's Landing, they all love your golden dragons!"
"The Little Birds chirp, why don't the Little Birds go look?" Littlefinger asked.
"The Little Birds focus on high places, perhaps forgetting to look down. My mistake, my Little Birds are always limited!" Varys spread his hands. The main reason was that he hadn't put much effort into this particular pawn.
"No problem, my old friend! A Boy you personally inquire about, it seems he's no ordinary person! Let me guess, could this Child be of noble blood?" Littlefinger's eyes darted.
"Nothing escapes you, my old friend! He is indeed a Boy of noble blood!" Varys leaned in and said.
"I will do my best! However, with people coming and going in King's Landing, there might be no clues. You know, a small person, my friends don't pay much attention to them!"
"It's enough that you're willing to help me!" Varys chuckled.
"Let's have a drink! To the benevolence of our Lord Varys!" Littlefinger poured Varys a glass of Summer Red.
"Cheers!"
"I have a question, why did you change your house sigil, my good Lord!"
"A titan is so frightening, my old friend! Look how amiable this mockingbird is!"
"It's not just amiable; the mockingbird imitates the calls of other birds, just as we cling to power!"
"Indeed, after all, we are just small characters!" Both drained their cups, the Summer Red in them as red as blood.