As Samwell looked at the woman standing before him, a strange feeling grew in his heart. She hardly seemed like a wildling.
Her elegance and pride radiated from her very being—traits that couldn't be feigned or learned by mimicry. Only someone who had lived a life of comfort, raised with proper education and surrounded by servants, could possess such qualities.
A woman like her belonged in a noble castle, not amidst the barbaric and primitive life of the Red Mountains.
"Lady Nara, forgive my curiosity, but are you truly a native wildling?"
Nara smiled slightly, showing little surprise at his question.
"Perhaps not."
"Perhaps?"
"Yes, my lord. Many have asked me similar questions, but I've never had a definite answer. Because… I don't actually remember."
Samwell's expression shifted, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "You mean you've lost your memory?"
"Yes, my lord. The former chieftain of the Crow Clan—my husband—rescued me from the Summer Sea over a decade ago. But I couldn't remember why I'd fallen into the sea or anything about my past."
Nara reached up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear, her voice wistful. "I may have once been a noble lady from some castle. But it no longer matters; now, I am simply the chieftain of the Crow Clan. That is why I'm here, my lord. I've come on behalf of my people. We played no part in Lenya's conspiracy, nor do we bear you any ill will. So I ask the lord if it is possible to release my innocent people and allow them to return to the forest."
Instead of answering, Samwell studied her violet eyes, lost in thought.
He had a theory about her true origins. On the continent of Westeros, families with violet eyes were rare; the most famous, of course, was the Targaryen Family.
But the Targaryens had silver hair, whereas the woman before him had dark brown locks. Besides, the surviving Targaryens were exiled across the Narrow Sea in Essos, unlikely to have ended up in the Summer Sea.
There was, however, one woman who seemed to fit Nara's circumstances.
The sister of the legendary "Sword of the Morning," Arthur Dayne—the Northern Warden Eddard Stark's one-time love, and a figure idolized by Kingsguard hero Ser Barristan Selmy:
Ashara Dayne.
The Dayne family's seat, Starfall, lay just across the Summer Sea's eastern shore, not far from here. Over a decade ago, after Robert's Rebellion, Eddard Stark had brought back Dawn, the Daynes' ancestral sword, and delivered the news of Arthur Dayne's death at the Tower of Joy. Ashara Dayne, it was said, couldn't bear the loss and had thrown herself from the top of the Palestone Sword Tower, plunging into the sea. However, her body had never been recovered.
It now seemed possible that Ashara hadn't died but had been found by the previous chieftain of the Crow Clan, only to lose her memory in the process.
With this in mind, Samwell's view of Nara immediately shifted.
Starfall, a vital city in western Dorne, lay across the sea from Samwell's territory. If he ever intended to lay claim to Dorne, Starfall would make the ideal foothold. And Nara, or Ashara Dayne, could be the key to unlocking Starfall's gates.
"Lady Nara, I know you weren't part of Lenya's plot, so I'll allow the Crow Clan warriors to leave unharmed. You're free to lead them back."
"Thank you for your mercy and fairness." Nara exhaled with relief, bowing in gratitude.
She turned to leave but paused as Samwell spoke again.
"As the representative of Lord Mace, I'm here to open new lands and offer protection to all wildlings. Would the Crow Clan consider becoming my subjects?"
"I'm really sorry, my lord" Nara replied, shaking her head. "The Crow Clan serves only the Old Gods and cannot pledge allegiance to a knight who follows the Seven. If this forest is now your domain, we will leave. We don't lay claim to any land."
Samwell hadn't expected a different answer. No one would readily submit to a stranger without reason.
For other clans, he could use force or drive them out, but the Crow Clan was different. Whether due to Nara's possible heritage or the rare ghost-grass they possessed, he couldn't simply resort to violence.
Diplomacy would be key.
Samwell smiled and said, "I understand. I won't force you to stay or leave. As long as your people don't attack mine or enter my settlements uninvited, I grant you permission to remain in this forest. Additionally, you're welcome to trade freely with my subjects."
Nara looked surprised. She hadn't expected such generosity from this young lord.
"You truly are a merciful lord. On behalf of my people, I thank you deeply."
"I'm pleased to gain the friendship of the Crow Clan," Samwell replied with a smile. "Oh, by the way, Lady Nara, I've heard there is a rare plant called ghost-grass in the Red Mountains. Have you heard of it?"
Nara paused before nodding. "Yes, of course. It's a rare wild herb with mystical qualities, found only by those blessed by the Old Gods."
Samwell's spirits lifted. "Would you be able to gather ghost-grass for me? I'll pay one silver stag for each plant. Or, if you'd prefer, I can trade food or other goods of equal value."
After a moment's thought, Nara replied, "If you agree to one more condition, the Crow Clan will gather ghost-grass for you."
"What is your condition?"
"You and your people must not harm a single weirwood tree in the Red Mountains."
Samwell blinked in surprise. Weirwoods in the Red Mountains?
Weirwoods were sacred to followers of the Old Gods, but he'd thought that apart from the North, the Andals had cut down all of the weirwoods in the South. Still, the Red Mountains were vast, and it was plausible that some had survived.
"Agreed. I'll honor that condition. In fact, if you looked closer, you'd see I don't force my people to adopt the Faith of the Seven. They're free to keep their original beliefs. I respect your faith and have no intention of destroying any weirwoods."
"You possess a heart of true tolerance. The Old and the New Gods alike will protect you!" Nara said with a smile.
Their negotiations had gone even smoother than she'd hoped.
The young Riverlands lord was far kinder and more reasonable than she'd expected. Knowing he'd protect the weirwoods put her mind at ease, and she could even hope his influence would grow, shielding more weirwoods across the region.
And with ghost-grass fetching a full silver stag, this agreement would greatly improve her people's lives.
A truly generous lord, indeed.
(End of Chapter)