The caravan moved slowly forward.
Surrounding them were barren, yellowish-brown grasslands and scattered, ancient barrows of the First Men.
Without realizing it, the wind began to howl.
Rodney gazed into the distance, spotting a black dot on the horizon, and breathed a sigh of relief:
"The journey has been very smooth. We should be thankful."
He didn't feel any regret about paying Don Quixote a hefty sum despite not encountering any raiders.
As a merchant who had been through a lot, he preferred to spend money for peace of mind rather than face any trouble on the road.
"My Lord, it's so desolate and eerie here." Adele scanned the surrounding barrows, shrinking her neck into her collar and gripping the reins tightly with her small hands.
Between the wilderness, the hills, and the clusters of barrows, there were very few trees.
The view was open.
But an ancient, bleak atmosphere seemed to rise in the hearts of the travelers with every gust of cold wind.
Staring at those First Men barrows, it felt as if the legends of the First Men and the shadows of reality were intertwining.
Don Quixote smiled:
"Scared? We'll be going to even more desolate places later. We might even visit the Wall!
"That's the source of all the legends—savage wildlings, giants, ghouls, wights, and White Walkers!"
"Ah..."
Adele let out a startled cry, then her face flushed red.
"Hmph! I'm not scared!" Adele muttered stubbornly, then turned her horse to get a little closer to Don Quixote.
"Hahaha."
Cole and Alden couldn't help laughing at the sight, but under Adele's threatening glare, they quickly stifled their mirth.
After traveling a bit further.
A small castle built of rough local stone, devoid of ornate decoration, appeared clearly in their view.
Above the gate, on the battlements, and on the corner towers, flags with gold and brown stripes were flying.
It was a chevron pattern of russet and gold.
Don Quixote looked at the gold and brown striped flags, then glanced at Adele and the other two, smiling:
"Whoever can guess which house that sigil belongs to first gets 1 Silver Stag!"
Since arriving in White Harbor, Don Quixote had placed great importance on knowledge of culture, customs, history, and legends.
He had been collecting scarce books and seeking out knowledgeable people.
Through written texts and oral traditions.
His understanding of Westeros deepened day by day, especially regarding the North.
And he never kept the knowledge he filtered and transcribed onto parchment scrolls a secret.
Instead, he encouraged Adele and the others to read them whenever they were free.
Although Adele and the others' basic literacy was far behind his progress, under the tutelage of a septa hired at a high price, they were gradually mastering it.
They had already grasped some basic common script.
Adele looked at it, thought for a moment, and then hurriedly said:
"I know, I know! It's the sigil of House Stout.
"—Chevronny russet and gold!"
Don Quixote nodded, satisfied:
"Excellent! Adele is right, that is the sigil of House Stout.
"You two still haven't figured it out? Or do you just not know at all!"
Saying this, Don Quixote glanced at Cole and Alden, who were frowning in deep thought, and snorted:
"I told you to read the texts I wrote down more often.
"A qualified knight must not only excel in martial arts and pursue honor but also have a certain level of cultural refinement!
"I don't ask you to master profound academic knowledge.
"But at least be familiar with Northern history, continental history, and understand where your responsibilities and heritage come from!
"And knowledge of these noble house sigils is also very basic and important.
"If you want to survive better in the North in the future, you must learn these basics.
"Only then will others recognize you and accept you!"
Cole and Alden looked at each other, seemingly recalling those boring texts, and their heads drooped:
"Yes, Lord Don Quixote!
"We will definitely read the books more often when we get back and memorize this knowledge!"
Don Quixote said coldly:
"I hope so!"
Pausing, he looked at the three of them and said slowly:
"Come closer, I'll introduce this castle to you."
Hearing this, Adele, who was already close to Don Quixote, moved even closer expectantly.
Cole and Alden didn't dare delay and hurriedly gathered around.
Don Quixote rode while speaking in a low voice:
"This is Goldgrass, the seat of House Stout!
"It's a castle adjacent to the eastern gate of Barrowton, serving as Barrowton's eastern barrier.
"Goldgrass controls the land route from Barrowton to White Harbor.
"House Stout is a core vassal of House Dustin. They follow the Old Gods and value ancestral heritage.
"The current lord of House Stout, the Lord of Goldgrass, is Lord Harwood Stout."
After a brief explanation, the group arrived at Goldgrass.
————
Several pale-faced young guards blocked the caravan's path.
These young guards wore leather armor and gold-and-brown cloaks.
A cavalryman on a warhorse looked warily at the caravan in front of him.
Finally looking at Rodney, he thought for a moment before realizing:
"It's Lord Rodney. You've come to trade with us again."
Rodney had already recognized the cavalryman and smiled:
"Captain Ryan, please inform Lord Harwood that we have brought seafood and Black Stout from White Harbor!"
Ryan was a cavalryman who followed the Old Gods, not a knight.
Hearing this, Ryan beamed and asked:
"Lord Rodney, do you have Black Stout?"
Black Stout was the top-tier stout of the North.
Thick enough to chew and strong enough to make your eyes water.
It was the strong drink every Northman craved!
Rodney smiled hurriedly:
"Of course. I prepared Black Stout specifically for Lord Harwood, and some small gifts for all of you as well."
Saying this, Rodney took some gifts already prepared by the caravan servants.
A small keg of Black Stout and several large bags of dried fish.
Then he personally handed them to the guards.
Ryan couldn't wait to take the small keg of Black Stout, opened it, took a deep sniff, and said:
"Lord Rodney, thank you very much for your gift."
Then, Ryan turned to a young guard beside him who was holding fish in one hand and gripping his sword hilt with the other, ordering:
"Anton, go report to Lord Harwood immediately. Tell him Lord Rodney from White Harbor is here and ready to trade with us."
The young guard nodded and responded immediately:
"Yes, Captain Ryan!"
After quite a while.
A group of people rode out from the small castle of Goldgrass.
Leading them was a white-haired, one-armed old man.
...