"I see it! I see it!" The little girl's excitement was palpable as she jumped on the ship's deck, pointing towards the group of islands emerging with the dawn. The familiar sight of the Shield Islands, known as the protective barrier of Reach, stirred a mix of emotions within Tara. Overwhelmed with relief, she almost crumbled under its weight. "It's home, isn't it, Tara? Tara!"
"Yes, it is," Tara replied, her voice filled with warmth as she affectionately rubbed Alla's head. With a sweet smile, she repeated, "It is home."
Accusingly, yet playfully, Alla said, "You were wrong, weren't you? You said it would take us three weeks to reach home, but I counted every day, and I know only two weeks have passed."
"Yes, I suppose," Tara replied, forcing a smile as she glanced back at Jon who had swiftly started delivering orders to his crew the moment he had spotted the Islands from afar.
When she had estimated it would take them three weeks for their journey from Bear Islands, she hadn't been too conservative and had considered that the fastest time however, Jon had managed to defy her expectations.
No matter how she pondered it, the distance they had covered in under two weeks seemed absurd. She had witnessed their swiftness on her previous trip, but it still left her dumbfounded. Their ship wasn't particularly special, nor did they employ unique sails or any extraordinary techniques. In fact, considering the amount of cargo they carried, they were slower than her previous voyage. The only explanation she could find was that their ship sailed ceaselessly, day and night, with unwavering confidence in its course. It was akin to traversing a well-established path through a forest, rather than wandering without a clear direction.
Another observation struck her mind—how they rarely made stops at ports along the way, unlike conventional ships. They only made two stops: one at Flint's Finger a few days after the journey began, and then they somehow completely skipped the Iron Islands, only halting at Faircastle, a renowned port in the Westerlands. Moreover, these stops were brief, merely to replenish supplies within a few hours before resuming their voyage.
The weather was another factor to consider. They encountered fierce storms multiple times, which was expected during a sea voyage but somehow someway their captain was always able to bypass them by a long way by either changing their path in advance or by anchoring their ships at a nearby shore just before it hit them and they were able to watch the tempestuous rain and dark clouds receding in the opposite direction from a safe distance.
It was as if he had a set of eyes in heaven that was looking out for him and always telling him about the coming weather in advance. Tara had heard that some of the more veteran old navigators were somehow able to predict a storm about half a day in advance by looking at the clouds with a far eye and feeling the wind. But to avoid them completely was supposed to be impossible.
Lost in her thoughts, Tara was interrupted by Jon's approach. He stood beside her, gazing at the approaching port. "I'll need your assistance for the next part," he stated, nodding towards the harbour.
"W-What, my lord?" Tara inquired, tilting her head in confusion.
"I don't anticipate them easily allowing such a sizable fleet into the Mander," Jon explained, glancing at the ships trailing behind them. "Considering our ships have never ventured into this part of the sea, it would be advantageous to have a familiar face accompany me when we meet the port master, ensuring we aren't mistaken for an undesirable group."
Understanding his concerns, Tara nodded immediately. "Don't worry, my lord. I know the port master here. There won't be any problem."
"Excellent," Jon replied, offering a small smile. He then turned his attention to little Alla and asked, "Are you excited, Alla?"
"Yes! I can't wait to meet Margery," Alla exclaimed, her face lighting up as she bombarded Jon with stories. "She's my best friend, and we always play..."
Tara observed their interaction with a gentle smile before turning her gaze towards the islands ahead. The Sheild Islands, commonly called the Sheilds were one of the most important protection the Reach had against the Ironborn. They were located in the Sunset Sea just west of Highgarden and were charged with always protecting the Mander.
Whenever any sign of longships sporting an IronIslands flag appears, elder in the watchtowers light their beacon fires, which in turn cause the other watch towers to burn their own beacons and spread the warning to the settlement further inland so that they wouldn't be caught unawares.
...
"Would you please slow down, Marge?" Willas called out to his sister with a sigh. But the happy girl flitted from one stall merchant to the next without showing any mercy for her big brother, who was following behind her like a money bag.
Margery was in an exceptionally jubilant mood, a complete turnaround from the sombre expression she had carried a few weeks ago. And that was to be expected since she had received the news that her best friend, whom she had grown up with, had miraculously been rescued by a Northern ship.
Ever since then, she had been coming to the market at the port in Highgarden, sifting through the merchants that passed by every day, hoping to find an appropriate gift for her returning friend. Her sneaking glances at the ships in the port, searching for any Northern vessels, couldn't go unnoticed.
Willas finally caught up to her when she was rummaging through a cloth shop. After quenching his thirst with water from a bag carried by a knight guarding them, he asked his sister in an exasperated tone, "Isn't it too early for you to be this excited? There's still more than a week left until Alla gets home."
"I know that," she replied while pointing at a blue dress for the shopkeeper to show her. "But I want to show them my appreciation and apologize for the suffering they had to go through because of me." Her expression turned sad at the end.
"That is very kind of you, Marge," Willas said with a smile as they left the shop, with another dress now carried by the knight behind them. Seeing his little sister being so mature filled him with pride that only an older brother could understand.
As they passed through an intersection, a loud shriek of "Margery" came from nearby. Before Margery could even turn around, she was suddenly hit by a small body with a head full of brown hair, similar to her own. Before she could make sense of the situation, the person started crying while hugging her tightly. "I missed you so much, Margery... Waah..."
"Alla! Is that you, Alla?" Margery exclaimed in astonishment, which immediately stopped Willas and the knight who were about to intervene. "It's really you!" she said and started hugging the little girl tightly as her shock turned to jubilance. The girls started jumping round and round, laughing and crying tears of happiness.
"Alla, where did you come from?" Willas was about to ask her to make sense of the situation when a few more people joined them. "Tara!"
"Lord Willas," she courtesied professionally, but she couldn't hide the joyful tears in her eyes. "I can't tell you how good it is to see you, My Lord."
"I am happy to see you too, Tara," Willas said, wanting to embrace the woman who had raised him along with his mother as her maid. Instead, he settled for squeezing her shoulder warmly before asking her in confusion, "But I thought it would take you a while to get here. How did you get here so fast?"
"Maybe the gods wanted them to reach their homes sooner since we had good weather all the way," said a man who had been standing just behind Tara, accompanied by a tall woman. The woman looked at home in her leathers, with a small Morningstar at her waist. The man was handsome enough, with curly hair and grey eyes that gave him an air of elegance despite wearing simple black clothes.
"You are..."
Tara immediately came forward and introduced them, "This is Jon Snow, the natural-born son of Lord Stark, and," she turned her hand towards the other person, "this is Dacey Mormont, the daughter of Maege Mormont, Lady of Bear Island."
"Ah... Jon Snow," Willas exclaimed, shaking Jon's hand. "Tara wrote about you in her letter. I must admit, you look a lot older than your actual age."
"I get that a lot, my lord."
"Call me Willas," he said with a gentle smile. "Not only did you save people who are precious to House Tyrell, but you also went to great lengths to get them home safely. House Tyrell is in your debt, Jon."
"You're too kind, my lord," Jon said, waving away the gratitude with a small smile. "I just did what any good man would have done in my place—"
"Then there are too few good men in Westeros, Ser," Margery suddenly inserted herself, giving Jon a blinding smile. "I am Margery Tyrell, Ser Jon."
She raised her hand toward Jon, who took it with perfect courtesy and kissed the back of her hand gently before saying, "I had heard a lot about your beauty from little Alla, but I must say she was wrong about it." Margery tilted her head in confusion before Jon continued with a grin, "You're even more beautiful than she said."
"Thank you, Ser," Margery said with a sweet smile and a cute blush, while little Alla jumped in with a cheeky smile and said, "I told you she was pretty."
"Call me Jon, since I am not a knight."
While Jon was getting acquainted with Margery, Tara was introducing Willas to Dacey. Willas suddenly turned to them and said in a formal tone, tapping his cane, "Jon, Lady Mormont, I would love to host you at our castle of Highgarden so that we can properly bestow upon you the courtesy you deserve and honour you for the service you have rendered to House Tyrell."
They exchanged glances with each other before Jon said with a troubled smile, "There is no need to go through so much trouble for us, my lord. We have already booked a good inn recommended by Tara." He continued quickly when he saw Willas about to counter him, "And besides, we are here on a business trip, so it would be more convenient for us to stay near the port."
"That would not do," Willas shook his head firmly. "It would be a disgrace as a Tyrell if we didn't properly repay you for all you've done."
Eddard had only asked a single thing of him on this trip and that was to stay away from Olenna Tyrell as much as he could and Jon didn't want to take the risk of going into the one place where he was sure to run into her, so he worked his mind and an idea quickly came to him that would make things a lot easier and quicker for him.
"You're giving us too much credit, but... if you insist on helping us, my lord, then there is one thing I could use your help with."
"Go on," Willas said, intrigued by what Jon was about to ask.
"I don't know if you've heard about it, but there is a special product from the North called Starkhorse..."
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