Chapter 96

The knight did remember Aegor—not solely because of the interest that had accrued on his bonds, which amounted to several gold dragons, but also due to Aegor’s distinct black garb of the Night’s Watch and his unique, unmistakable Eastern features. Upon recognizing him, the knight greeted Aegor warmly and took the initiative to introduce him to his companions.

"This is the Night’s Watchman I mentioned to you all earlier," the knight began, addressing his peers. "You all insisted it had to be some sort of scam, but I got my money back to the last coin—along with three gold dragons in interest for the month. And as far as I know, there were plenty of others who responded to the King's call and withdrew money to purchase gear, all of them getting the same return."

"Three percent interest?" Another knight exclaimed in astonishment. "I don’t understand—where does the Night’s Watch even get that kind of money?"

"From the profits of their enterprises," Aegor chimed in smoothly. "In fact, if you have over five hundred gold dragons to invest, you can see even higher returns. Once we return to King’s Landing after this campaign, you’re all welcome to visit the office opposite the eastern camp of the City Watch. I can explain it all in detail and even arrange tours of the Night’s Watch-owned factories if you’re interested." Aegor’s sales pitch was delivered so quickly and deftly it was over before anyone could object. Immediately afterward, he steered the conversation back on track. "Now then, which of you fine knights would be kind enough to relay a message to King Robert for me?"

"I know one of the Kingsguard on duty today. I’ll go ask for you," offered the knight who had purchased the bonds. His tone was magnanimous, but Aegor knew the gesture was influenced by the old adage: a favor borrowed is a favor owed. "Wait here for my return and don’t wander off."

"Thank you! I appreciate it," Aegor replied, nodding gratefully.

...

While waiting outside a tent marked with three crimson chevrons, Aegor spent some time chatting with other knights. Thanks to his well-prepared pitch, a few of them quickly grew interested in the bonds and the Night’s Watch enterprises he described. They promised to visit the office in King’s Landing after the war to learn more. The unexpected progress lightened Aegor’s earlier frustration about wasting time.

In any world, first impressions mattered. When Aegor had approached earlier, both he and his squire, Cassie, had taken care to maintain an immaculate appearance. The knight who recognized Aegor had also immediately introduced him to others rather than dismissing him. And when they learned that this "Chief Logistics Officer of the Night’s Watch" managed funds in the hundreds or thousands of gold dragons (well, technically just hundreds), their skepticism faded. Soon, they began treating Aegor not as a mere black-clad Night’s Watchman but as a knight in his own right, their words laced with respect and even a touch of flattery.

Having wealth—or at least projecting the image of it—truly made life easier. It was no wonder people instinctively flaunted their riches. Money was a resource, and those who possessed it naturally commanded status. This truth applied to both humans and animals alike.

Roughly twenty minutes later, the knight who had gone to deliver Aegor’s message returned, accompanied by another man whose surcoat bore the sigil of a pair of stag antlers. Aegor immediately recognized the newcomer and raised an eyebrow at the coincidence.

"Lord Buckwell!" Aegor exclaimed inwardly. What were the odds? Yet, as he thought about it, the situation felt less like chance and more like design. He kept his thoughts to himself, offering a polite nod instead.

The man was none other than the Lord of Antlers, the very noble who had once agreed to invest a thousand gold dragons in the Night’s Watch’s paper mill project. Unfortunately, the funds had never reached King’s Landing before the Vale’s rebellion erupted, disrupting the arrangement.

Still, there was no bad blood between them. The investment had fallen through due to circumstances beyond either party’s control. Aegor respected the lord for his decisiveness and willingness to take risks—rare traits, especially for a man in his fifties.

Lord Buckwell, his hair streaked with gray, returned the greetings of Aegor and the other knights with a businesslike nod before delivering his message. "The King has ordered that the Night’s Watchman accompanying the campaign will be placed under the protection of Antlers’ forces and is to march alongside us. I will be responsible for your safety."

...

At least now Aegor knew his place in the campaign. As the old lord led him toward the Antlers encampment, Aegor bid farewell to the other knights. Once they were out of earshot, Lord Buckwell revealed the truth.

"To be honest, King Robert completely forgot about you until your friend reminded him. I happened to be there when the matter came up, so I volunteered to take charge."

"Ah, Lord Buckwell, I appreciate your efforts," Aegor replied with a forced smile, confirming his earlier suspicions. Two of his predictions had already come true. But venting his frustrations with the king in front of a Crownlands lord was unthinkable—at least, for now.

"Think nothing of it. Robert has a poor memory. He often forgets his own ideas shortly after coming up with them, only to recall them much later. If the rebellion in the Vale ends and he suddenly remembers wanting to send Royce and his kin to the Wall but can’t find you, you’d be in a difficult position."

The old lord’s words echoed concerns shared by Tyrion and Aegor himself. If he were the sort of fearless, incorruptible Night’s Watchman who cared nothing for the King’s whims, he might have ignored Robert’s summons entirely. But as a transmigrator who valued his future prospects, he couldn’t afford to gamble with his standing.

"You’re right, my lord. I came here fully prepared to waste some time if necessary," Aegor replied.

"Good. I know the Night’s Watch vows to avoid involvement in the Seven Kingdoms’ internal conflicts, but this situation is different. This is a joint effort to suppress a rebellion, not an attack by six kingdoms against the Vale. The target isn’t the Lord of the Eyrie, either. Technically, your presence doesn’t violate your oaths," Lord Buckwell explained. Seeing Aegor’s expression, he added, "And regardless of whether King Robert succeeds in breaking the Gates of the Moon, no one will hold you accountable. Trust me."

It was a rare comfort to hear such sensible reasoning. If Robert succeeded, the outcome would speak for itself. If he failed, the most likely result would be the King agreeing to the "Alliance of Justice’s" terms, withdrawing his forces, and securing Lysa Tully’s surrender for a fair trial. The idea of a few Vale lords defeating the combined might of six kingdoms’ armies was pure fantasy—unless, of course, another transmigrator had landed in the Vale and invented gunpowder.

Aegor had already sent word to Castle Black to dispatch an official southward. If the campaign ended swiftly and successfully, he would simply carry out his duties as planned. If things dragged on, he’d be replaced by a raven-delivered appointment and could return to King’s Landing unburdened.

...

As they walked, Lord Buckwell shared more details about the campaign. The Antlers contingent consisted of five hundred men, including twenty knights. The King planned to march at dawn to meet Riverlands forces near Saltpans and wait for reinforcements from the other kingdoms at the canyon entrance. Then came the most ridiculous revelation: Robert had tasked Petyr Baelish with securing another loan from the Iron Bank of Braavos to prevent a financial crisis if the rebellion proved costly.

Aegor couldn’t hide his incredulity. "How is that even possible? Isn’t the Master of Coin under investigation?"

"Yes, but who knows? The Iron Bank has always dealt with him, and with a war at hand, the King couldn’t find a suitable replacement to send to Braavos. Only Robert could come up with something so absurd—sending an accused man to secure a loan while we risk our necks for his schemes," Lord Buckwell sighed. He swallowed an unkind word, shaking his head. "But of course, we can’t take rumors as fact without evidence. If it’s true, though, I doubt Littlefinger will ever return to Westeros."

"Indeed," Aegor replied, regaining his composure. The absurdity didn’t surprise him. If Robert could conceive of something as nonsensical as a "Night’s Watchman on campaign," there was no limit to his folly. Still, the situation didn’t alter the reality of Littlefinger’s downfall. Without power or allies, Baelish fleeing across the Narrow Sea would amount to nothing. The Iron Bank wouldn’t support an enemy of its largest client, and the Faceless Men were not to be trifled with.

Shaking off the topic, Aegor and Lord Buckwell turned to other matters. They spoke of Jarman Buckwell, a ranger at Castle Black. The Buckwell family, like many Crownlands houses, had originally sided with the Targaryens during Robert’s Rebellion. After Robert crushed Rhaegar at the Trident, Jarman, the family heir, had been captured and sent to the Wall as punishment. Now a squad leader at Castle Black, he had nearly become Aegor’s superior. This connection explained Lord Buckwell’s favorable disposition toward the Night’s Watch.

"Why has the Night’s Watch suddenly begun reaching south for supplies and even establishing enterprises?" Lord Buckwell asked at last. Free of prying ears, he dared to voice what he hadn’t at the office. Having lost a promising heir to the Wall, his family had struggled to recover. The setback could cripple the Buckwells if left unresolved.

(Aegor noted the implied question immediately: If he could leave the Wall and travel freely, could the same be arranged for Jarman Buckwell—at a price?)