Gendry put down the map of the Stepstones and walked over to greet his two distinguished guests, the second son and youngest daughter of House Tyrell of Highgarden. He moved from behind his desk to the dining table area.
"The golden rose of the green fields graces my humble abode, and I am truly honored!" Gendry said, gesturing to the chairs at the table for the guests to sit. "I had expected envoys from House Redwyne, not the children of the Lord of Highgarden."
"It seems the Commander has already guessed our identities! I just didn't expect the Commander to be so young and wise," Garlan replied. Although being personally received by the Wolfpack's commander delighted Garlan, he was still curious. Rumors had it that the Wolfpack had surrounded Myr; could cooperation with Highgarden be more important than capturing Myr?
"Thank you for your hospitality, Commander! We should have come in the traditional Highgarden colors of green and gold, but time was of the essence!" Margery laughed, then removed her veil.
Gendry saw Margery with her long, curly brown hair, gentle eyes like a doe, and a shy, sweet smile. She was indeed a beauty, not to mention the support of the wealthy Highgarden.
"I owe this to my spymaster, a very wise man," Gendry introduced Maester Cale to Garlan.
Only then did Garlan and Margery notice the elderly man in the corner. He looked amiable and was no spring chicken. But as the spymaster, he must have many tricks up his sleeve.
Maester Cale bowed to the Tyrell siblings, welcoming them.
"Mace may be a fool, but he's raised his children well. Not just in affection, but in ability. The eldest is cunning, the second is well-versed in both arts and arms, and even the flamboyant third son has strengthened ties with Renly. And the little rose understands the responsibilities of a noble girl," Gendry observed the siblings, thinking that, unlike the Lannisters or Tullys, the Tyrells had done a decent job with their children.
Garlan and Margery took in the room's decor: Myrish tapestries, books, battle maps, weapons, and chairs. The Commander's armor was probably the most eye-catching item in the room, but this black-scaled plate mail had signs of repair and maintenance, and it wasn't adorned with gold or jewels. There were also those weapons: a mace, a purpleheart longbow, and an arakh. The Valyrian steel arakh was still sheathed, and Garlan didn't recognize its value.
"He's a disciplined man!" Garlan thought. The Free Cities had no shortage of wealth, so a man with vast territories and riches who didn't indulge in luxury must have ambitions even greater than Garlan had imagined.
"Cutting to the chase, Commander, we'd like to purchase some powdergrass from you!" Garlan Tyrell said earnestly. He didn't mention a price, but wealthy Highgarden wouldn't disappoint Gendry.
"The gold and grain of Highgarden do please me, but I seek another kind of help," Gendry said, looking at the two. "The Stepstones, a den of slavers and pirates, these pirates always plague the decent folk. It would be better if someone took control."
"You want the Stepstones!" Garlan pondered. Seizing the Stepstones was indeed a bold move, locking down Tyrosh and Myr from both land and sea. The Wolfpack's commander was indeed a formidable man.
"If it were gold or grain, House Tyrell could provide, but the Stepstones, those islands, belong to Westeros and should be under the Iron Throne's jurisdiction."
"The Iron Throne? The king doesn't care about King's Landing, let alone those godforsaken islands! Highgarden and House Redwyne are related by marriage. I want to take the Stepstones, and I expect the Redwyne fleet to act as usual."
"What about the royal fleet?"
"The royal fleet, that's not your concern, Ser Garlan," Maester Cale replied confidently. Stannis had more important matters and no interest in this region.
"I will convey your wishes to my father," Garlan promised.
The Redwynes and Tyrells were related by marriage, and in practice, the Redwyne fleet was more under the influence of House Tyrell.
"There's plenty of time ahead. We have many opportunities to cooperate, before the long winter comes."
"Long winter!" Garlan's eyes widened as he looked at Gendry. The man in front of him seemed to have a deeper understanding of the changes in Westeros than Garlan had anticipated.
"Winter is coming! We of the Wolfpack come from the North and remember the winters all too well," Gendry smiled.
"What about the Golden Company? I wonder what the Commander thinks of them?" Garlan asked.
"They are exiles, but also a powerful army."
"Many in the Golden Company are exiled nobles from the Reach," Garlan said cautiously. "The Golden Company wants to return home, and they can't do it without your help!"
"I understand all that you say!" Gendry smiled. Both the Golden Company and House Tyrell were trying to court him, but the situation was under his control.
Garlan breathed a sigh of relief; this was just a precaution.
Under the crisp sky, Garlan and his sister stayed in the Disputed Lands for a while. Gendry invited Garlan for drinks, hunting, and sword practice. Both had a similar understanding of the battlefield, enjoying one-against-many war simulations.
As for Margery, she took a keen interest in Gendry. Looking into his eyes, she couldn't see his face, only imagine what he looked like. The man behind the mask was probably like a newly forged sword, sharp and bright. She rarely saw her brother take a liking to a young man.
On the drill grounds, under the grey-and-white Wolfpack banner and the Free Army banner, the Wolfpack's soldiers practiced marching. The knights were like a raging storm, and the infantry was like a steady mountain.
"What a formidable army!" Garlan marveled.
Longspear led the Wolfpack's cavalry, with the knights on horseback wielding swords, lances, maces, battleaxes, and more. The eight hundred knights of the Longspears, who had also surrendered to the Wolfpack under their captain, significantly increased the Wolfpack's cavalry numbers.
Steel Fist led the Wolfpack's infantry, the soldiers...
Garlan observed the scene, paying particular attention to the Wolfpack's equipment. Their most elite soldiers were clad in plate and scale armor. The Wolfpack's style was Northern, willing to fight hard battles with courage. Yet their gear was the most luxurious armor.
Garlan watched as the Wolfpack's cavalry and infantry surged forward like an iron fist, fearless.
And the Free Army, Garlan noted that even as vassals and auxiliaries, the Free Army had undergone considerable training. They were well-versed in the tactics of Westeros and had learned some of the Unsullied's formations.
"The threat of the Wolfpack might be even greater than that of the Golden Company! Their numbers are significant, and their morale and equipment are also quite good," Garlan mused. The Golden Company's numbers were, after all, limited, while the Free Army's numbers were like an avalanche, only growing larger. In any case, such a vast armed force would always need to be prepared in advance.
The time spent together was fleeting. Gendry didn't get to enjoy much of his time with the Tyrell siblings before he saw them off.
"He reminds me of someone! Brother!" Margery whispered on the ship.
"You mean Renly?"