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Without the slightest hesitation, Clay once again experienced the absolute authority carried by the blood-red gemstone embedded in the trident ring — an authority that commanded unwavering obedience within the White Sea Guard. Indeed, the ring demanded recognition, not the man who wore it.
"Get up, come inside to talk," Clay ordered. Although only the captain of his guards was present, this courtyard training ground was hardly an ideal place for exchanging sensitive information.
Without a word, Anty Rivers swiftly stood up and followed this unfamiliar commander into the three-story building adorned with the Merman banners of White Harbor.
Anty Rivers had long known that this place served as the Manderly family's outpost in the Twins, so he wasn't particularly worried about his safety.
Upon entering an empty study, Clay settled into his seat and shot a glance at the guard captain who had followed them in. The latter immediately understood his young lord's intent — he bowed slightly, withdrew from the room, and closed the door behind him.
Turning his gaze back to Anty Rivers, who was still a stranger to him, Clay gestured to the chair across from him, signaling for the man to sit.
As for Clay's first impression of this man, he could sum it up in one word: ordinary.
Yes, if not for confirming his identity beforehand, anyone would have mistaken Anty Rivers for a simple traveling merchant. His outermost garment was old and worn, his fingers were cracked and calloused, and his face was weathered and rough.
His shoulders bore deep, uneven marks — clear signs of someone accustomed to hauling heavy loads over long periods. His skin was darkened and roughened by exposure to the elements, a stark contrast to the pale complexion common among pampered nobles.
Clay acknowledged that this man was indeed a qualified member of the White Sea Guard. After all, the best spy was the one who looked the least like one — and clearly, Anty Rivers, with his surname marking him as a bastard of the Riverlands, played his role exceptionally well.
"Care for a drink?" Clay asked. "I don't have anything fancy, but there's some ale here if you'd like to wet your throat."
Anty Rivers paused for a moment at the offer, then nodded. It was clear he wasn't the type to speak much.
Clay selected a bottle from his crate of liquor, one that looked reasonably decent. He flipped two upside-down glasses upright, skillfully uncorked the bottle, and let the pale golden liquid flow steadily into the glasses.
Once the drinks were poured, Clay took one for himself, while Anty Rivers reached out and carefully grasped the long-stemmed glass.
With that, the opening pleasantries were done. Clay had no intention of wasting time here — not because he was eager to send Anty Rivers away, but because the longer he remained in this building, the more likely he'd draw unwanted attention. The Twins had too many eyes watching his every move.
"You know who I am, so let's skip the formalities," Clay began, his tone firm. "I trust you've already compiled the information Overseer Rivers provided, along with any additional intelligence you've gathered. I need your report now."
Anty Rivers exhaled softly, feeling a hint of relief. Of course, he knew who Clay was — what concerned him most was the possibility that this White Harbor noble might turn out to be an arrogant playboy, more interested in idle chatter and self-indulgent boasts than serious business.
But now, it was clear that Clay was someone who acted swiftly and decisively — no nonsense, no delay, straight to the point. That was exactly what Anty Rivers preferred. As a spy, he had no patience for tedious formalities.
Reaching into his chest pocket, Anty Rivers pulled out a small, well-prepared notebook and placed it on the table.
Clay's eyes narrowed slightly. The cover was marked with text identifying it as a common Seven-Pointed Star prayer book.
Without keeping his commander waiting, Anty Rivers calmly opened the disguised cover and extracted a neatly folded sheet of paper from within.
"Commander," he said quietly, "this document contains recent news from the Twins, along with the information Overseer Rivers asked me to deliver to you. Please have a look."
Clay was pleased with Anty Rivers' caution. For intelligence of this importance, ensuring it wouldn't immediately fall into enemy hands was paramount. If it couldn't be retrieved, White Sea Guard agents needed ample time to withdraw from the Twins safely.
Unfolding the sheet of paper, Clay's gaze landed on the first line:
"Jon Snow, the illegitimate son of Eddard Stark, has left Winterfell to join his uncle Benjen Stark at the Wall, where he has taken the black and joined the Night's Watch."
Reading this, Clay knew Jon had stood firm in his decision — resolute in his commitment to uphold his ideals and take his place on the Wall of ice and sorcery.
His gaze shifted to the second line:
"Tyrion Lannister has returned from the Wall to Winterfell and has since traveled south. He is expected to pass through the Neck along the Kingsroad in the coming days."
Clay had little immediate concern for the imp he'd met only briefly. Since Bran's fate had been altered by Clay's interference, Catelyn Stark had never embarked on her journey south to King's Landing to confront her husband with false suspicions about the Lannisters.
As a result, she never encountered Tyrion during her return north, and the imp hadn't been captured. Without Tyrion's arrest, Tywin Lannister had no reason to summon his banners and march on the Riverlands while Westeros remained at peace.
In the end, aside from slightly shifting Bran's destiny, Clay's presence seemed to have inadvertently benefited Tyrion the most — a strange twist of fate indeed.
Pushing those thoughts aside, Clay turned to the third line — and this time, his breath caught.
"It has been confirmed that Hall Leek does exist. He is a member of House Leek, vassals to House Rykker of Duskendale. Hall Leek is the only son of Rufus Leek, the current head of his house. Presently, Hall resides within his family's castle."
The rest of the note held little importance to Clay — but the fact that Hall Leek was still alive caught him off guard. So Littlefinger hadn't eliminated him after all.
The intelligence included a brief profile of Hall Leek, describing him as an ill-tempered individual who had remained within his family's stronghold.
As for why Hall had chosen to serve Littlefinger, the report offered no answers. The White Sea Guard lacked the resources to gather such information in King's Landing, so this gap was understandable.
But these clues were enough. Since Hall Leek was still alive, Clay decided that when he traveled south, he would make a point of visiting him — and deliver the Manderly family's most sincere greetings.
If Hall Leek could reveal something about Littlefinger's schemes, that would be a welcome bonus. But even if he couldn't, it hardly mattered.
After all, if Clay recalled correctly, when the head of House Rykker departed for war, control of Dun Fort's affairs had fallen to the Leek family.
As the sole heir to House Leek, Hall could very well prove to be a valuable card in Clay's hand — one that might yet tip the scales in his favor when the time was right.
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[Chapter End's]
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