The village was little more than a collection of hovels, nestled at the edge of a quiet forest. It reeked of damp straw and old smoke, the kind of place that would never make it onto a map but was perfect for secret dealings.
Ser Garren of Bracken was already waiting when I arrived.
He sat on a weathered log by a dying fire, his arms crossed, his sword resting across his lap. A cautious man. Smart.
Good.
The stableman had done his part well—Bracken hadn't sent a disposable fool. They'd sent someone important enough to handle delicate matters.
Which meant they were taking this seriously.
I dismounted slowly, making sure my hands were visible. "Ser Garren."
His eyes flicked over me, assessing. I was young, a bastard, a nobody by the standards of men like him. But I wasn't groveling, and that made him wary.
"You're not the man I was expecting," he said.
I smirked. "And yet, here we are."
Garren grunted. "The stableman said you were clever." He leaned forward slightly. "Said you might be useful."
I shrugged. "Depends on what you need."
Selling the Illusion
Garren studied me, then nodded to the fire. "Sit."
I did, keeping my movements slow.
"You're a Frey," he said plainly.
I chuckled. "You say that like it means something."
That made him pause.
So I pushed. "Do you think Walder Frey gives a damn about bastards like me? I could choke on my own piss tomorrow, and he'd barely notice."
Garren's lips twitched. "Spoken like a man looking for a way out."
I let a beat of silence stretch. Then, carefully, I exhaled. "I want options. A bastard in the Twins has none. You know that."
He nodded slightly. "Then let's talk business."
I had him.
The Offer
"You already have men watching the Twins," I said. "Riders, merchants, stable hands. But you don't have someone in the tower."
Garren raised an eyebrow. "And you do?"
I shrugged. "I have ears. I hear things. Things a man like you might want to know."
He tapped a finger against his knee. "Then prove it. Give me something worth my time."
The First Gamble
I couldn't give him anything too valuable—that would show my hand too early.
But I needed to hook him.
So I gave him a piece of half a truth.
"There's tension in the halls," I said. "Lord Walder has been meeting with emissaries from House Lannister."
That part was true. Walder Frey was always sniffing around for alliances.
Garren frowned. "And?"
I leaned in slightly. "And there's talk of shifting loyalties." I let the words hang. "The old man's always been practical. If the Lannisters promise something big enough, the Riverlords might find themselves with one less ally when the time comes."
It was vague enough to be believable—true enough to be dangerous.
Garren exhaled slowly. "Interesting."
I could see the gears turning in his head. If House Bracken was planning something, this piece of information would complicate things for them.
Which meant he needed more.
Which meant I was now valuable.
The Hook is Set
Garren watched me for a long moment. Then, finally, he nodded. "You may be useful after all, bastard."
He tossed a small coin purse onto the ground between us. Silver stags. A test. A first payment.
I smirked but didn't touch it immediately. "I assume you'll want to meet again."
His lips curled into a knowing grin. "Soon."
I had done it.
I wasn't just some bastard playing at ambition anymore.
I was inside.
And now, the real game could begin.
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