Carter's death did not cause much of a stir. As Samwell had suggested, Todd announced that Carter had been killed by passing bandits.
When the Tyrell soldiers heard this, they immediately clamored to avenge Carter. Left with no other choice, Todd led a group to patrol the nearby area.
They managed to catch a few bandits wandering in the vicinity. Fueled by righteous anger, the soldiers used these hapless bandits as scapegoats, executing them and offering their heads in tribute to Carter.
Well, at least they were helping rid the area of outlaws.
Meanwhile, Samwell resumed the new recruits' military training. The pace of the expedition slowed back down to its original, steady crawl.
That afternoon, as Samwell finished training and was roasting a leg of venison by the campfire, he noticed a lone rider approaching on the road in the distance.
The rider, upon spotting their group, turned his horse and headed in their direction.
Gavin immediately took a few men to greet the newcomer.
After a brief interrogation, they found that he was a messenger from Highgarden, bringing a letter from Margaery, along with a bag full of gold dragons.
Delighted, Samwell instructed Gavin to treat the messenger well, while he himself opened Margaery's letter.
The scented ink on the parchment gave off a faint, delicate fragrance, but the message itself was less than gentle.
Margaery had sharply expressed her dissatisfaction with Samwell's excessive spending and requested that he immediately increase the pace of their journey.
Samwell ignored that part of her request. However, when he laid his hands on the bag of gold dragons, he sincerely offered his gratitude to the faraway Lady of Highgarden.
Then he began to ponder what new excuse he could use the next time he needed to ask her for more funds.
At that moment, they heard another commotion on the road near the camp.
This time, it was a much larger caravan—around a hundred people and several dozen wagons.
Gavin took a few men to investigate, then returned with a report:
"Milord, it's a caravan from Oldtown, headed to the city of Highgarden."
Samwell nodded, recognizing the banner on the caravan—a white stepped tower topped with a beacon on an ash-gray background.
It was the sigil of House Hightower, the ruling family of Oldtown.
Samwell hadn't planned on paying any mind to the caravan, but he suddenly remembered something and changed his mind, instructing Gavin:
"Announce my title and ask the caravan's steward to come over."
"Yes, milord."
Not long after, a short, middle-aged man approached, following Gavin at a brisk pace.
"Noble Sir Caesar, I am Jess, steward of House Hightower's caravan. Please allow me to offer Lord Leyton's greetings on his behalf."
"Mr. Jess, what are you transporting?"
"We're delivering a shipment of weapons and armor for sale in Highgarden."
"Weapons and armor? May I take a look?"
"Of course."
Jess led Samwell into the caravan and showed him the various pieces of weaponry and armor: longswords, steel knives, bows, spears, and armor.
Samwell's eyes lit up when he saw a wagon filled with leather armor, and he picked up a piece to examine it closely.
Seeing Samwell's interest, Jess smiled and began to promote the items:
"Milord, this armor is made from gray lizard hide. It's durable and comfortable. Would you like to try it on?"
Samwell declined to wear it himself but called Gavin over to try it on instead.
Seeing Samwell's clear interest, Jess pressed his advantage:
"Milord, if you're satisfied, I can send word back to Oldtown to have the leatherworkers make an entire batch for you at a fair price!"
Samwell stroked his chin, noncommittal, and then asked:
"Do you have any other types of armor?"
"Yes, we have a few chainmail suits. Would you like to see them?"
"What about plate armor?"
Jess gave a rueful smile and shook his head.
"Apologies, milord. Plate armor takes a long time to craft and is quite costly. Even the best smithies in Oldtown only produce three or four suits a year, and they're usually spoken for before they're even finished."
Samwell wasn't surprised by this.
Plate armor, as the best protective gear in this era, was incredibly difficult to make and expensive. For many lesser lords, a well-crafted suit of plate armor could be a treasured family heirloom, passed down for generations.
Even if Jess's caravan had some, Samwell doubted he could afford it.
As the disinherited eldest son, Lord Randyll Tarly certainly hadn't provided Samwell with armor. When he left Highgarden, Samwell had decided not to buy armor since he'd be spending a lot on recruitment, and he was slimming down anyway, so his size would soon change.
Now, with the fresh gold he'd just persuaded out of "The Rose of Highgarden," Samwell couldn't resist the urge to upgrade his own armor—and get some for his new recruits as well.
Good armor, after all, made a tremendous difference on the battlefield.
"Show me the chainmail, then."
"Certainly, milord, this way." Jess guided Samwell to another wagon and pulled out a chainmail shirt. "This one's just about the right size for you, would you like to try it on?"
"Sure."
Jess cheerfully helped Samwell put on the chainmail while explaining:
"Milord, this was crafted by the best smith in Oldtown. It took him three months to link over a thousand rings together. It weighs about thirty-five pounds and will effectively protect against swords, spears, and arrows. What do you think?"
Samwell moved his arms and legs in the chainmail and found it satisfactory. He then asked:
"If I take this chainmail and order an additional hundred and eight suits of that leather armor, how much would that cost?"
Jess's eyes brightened, clearly pleased with such a large order. He quickly replied:
"Milord, that would come to seven hundred and thirty-five gold dragons in total. If you decide to go ahead, I'll immediately send word back to Oldtown…"
Samwell raised a hand to stop him. "The price is fine, but I need the goods now. Immediately."
"This…" Jess hesitated. "But, milord, these items were reserved for House Mullendore of Highgarden."
Samwell shrugged. "I understand. However, we're bound for the Red Mountains to settle land, and we urgently need this equipment. If I can't get it here, I'll have to look elsewhere."
Jess paused to think it over. Since House Mullendore was a vassal of his own lord's house, the delivery schedule was flexible. Making a decision, he said:
"Alright! Milord, I'll prioritize your order and give you this shipment. I'll arrange for a replacement to be sent to House Mullendore."
"That's the spirit!" Samwell said, grinning widely as he counted out the recently acquired gold dragons, along with a portion of the funds his father had given him, and handed them to Jess.
He then instructed Gavin to distribute the leather armor to the new recruits.
Gavin was overjoyed as he held the armor but couldn't help adding, a little mournfully:
"Milord, you're far too generous with us! But… spending like this… I fear…"
"Nothing to worry about." Samwell waved off his concerns with a grand gesture. "Didn't I tell you? Money is no object."
(End of Chapter)