Game of Thrones: Lord of the Flames

"How many people remain in the tribe?" Samwell asked from his seat in the wooden house at the center of the camp.

Below him gathered the Tigerfang Tribe's new chieftain, Chiman, along with the shaman and several tribal elders.

"My lord, there are about 2,300 people left in the tribe, though most are women, elderly, and children," Chiman replied.

Hearing the implication in Chiman's words, Samwell asked, "Do you have enough food?"

"For now, yes," Chiman said. "However, with so few able-bodied men, the hunting harvest will decrease sharply. I expect we'll face a food shortage soon enough."

Samwell ran his fingers along the back of his chair, fully aware that most of the tribe's able-bodied men had either died in the battle at Eagle's Beak or were now his prisoners.

He had no intention of releasing these prisoners—they were needed to help build his settlement. Yet, he also couldn't neglect the women, elderly, and children left in the tribe. For both humanitarian reasons and the practical goal of winning hearts and minds, Samwell knew he had to provide for them.

Still, supporting so many would be difficult given his limited resources. However, he wasn't overly worried. Having won such a decisive victory, he could justify asking his investors for additional support.

Compared to those entrepreneurs who raised funds with nothing but a PowerPoint presentation, Samwell considered himself quite the upstanding investment.

After a moment of thought, Samwell spoke: "Chiman, I want you to take note of all those over sixty years old, children under ten, and anyone who's injured or unable to care for themselves. I'll be establishing a welfare center on Eagle's Beak to care for these individuals. Entry will be voluntary—those with family to care for them may choose not to go."

"You are a merciful lord!" Chiman and the other elders bowed deeply, sincere gratitude clear in their voices.

Samwell continued, "As for the women, if they wish, they may marry any of my men who have yet to take a wife. For each marriage, I'll give a silver stag as a wedding gift."

"Thank you, Lord Caesar!" Chiman responded with another bow. "To marry your strong warriors would be the highest honor for the women of the Tigerfang Tribe!"

"Since you are now my subjects, let's stop calling it the Tigerfang Tribe. From now on, this place will be Tigerfang Village. Chiman, I appoint you as village chief, responsible for its governance on my behalf."

Chiman quickly walked over to Samwell and knelt, saying with utmost respect, "It will be my honor."

Samwell helped him up, saying, "Since Tigerfang Village has just been through a battle, I'll exempt you from taxes for three months. However, in times of war, you will be required to answer my summons."

"Yes, my lord. It will be our honor to fight for you!"

"Chiman, I want you to write letters to the leaders of the nearby wildling tribes, informing them that I am willing to accept them as my subjects under the same terms given to the former Tigerfang Tribe."

"Yes, my lord."

Samwell wasn't overly optimistic that the other tribes would submit willingly. Tigerfang had Chiman as an inside ally, while the other tribal leaders would likely resist the idea of bowing to a lord and paying taxes. Still, extending the offer was a good start, and in time he could conquer these tribes. For now, his priority was to integrate the Tigerfang Tribe fully.

Next, Samwell adopted a more approachable manner, seeking the counsel of the elders present. These seasoned elders were careful not to make any excessive requests, cautious of offending their new lord. Their requests were minor, and Samwell, wanting to showcase his benevolence, granted each one.

Only the shaman, Salu, made a request that made Samwell frown.

The Tigerfang Tribe had previously worshipped the so-called "God of the Mountains." Now, as Samwell's subjects, Salu wanted to know if the tribe should convert to the Faith of the Seven.

Samwell knew that faith was a sensitive matter; mishandling it could easily lead to unrest. Moreover, the wildling tribes in the Red Mountains held diverse beliefs—some followed the Faith of the Seven, others worshipped the Old Gods, and others still revered a variety of strange deities, like the Tigerfang Tribe's "God of the Mountains."

If he forced the tribe to adopt the Faith of the Seven, not only could Tigerfang Village rebel, but the other wildling tribes might grow even more resistant to him.

However, in Westeros, the Faith of the Seven was the official religion, except in the North. If the Faith learned that Samwell's subjects worshipped various "pagan" gods, they might send envoys to challenge him.

After a moment of contemplation, Samwell replied, "My subjects are free to follow their own beliefs. If they wish to convert, the Faith of the Seven will welcome them. If not, they may keep their original faith."

After weighing the options, Samwell decided not to be overly concerned with the Faith's stance for now. Strengthening his own power was paramount; he couldn't afford to drive the mountain tribes into opposition over religious differences.

As for potential rebukes from the Faith…well, they had no army, did they? Since Maegor I had disbanded the Faith Militant, the Faith of the Seven had lost its power to interfere in the affairs of the nobility.

If they sent a priest to scold him, Samwell could handle them easily enough. Delay and placate if necessary; once his strength was established, he'd have leverage to negotiate with the Faith. After all, didn't the North still hold to their Old Gods? The Faith had never dared to burn their sacred heart trees.

"You are a merciful lord!" Salu said, bowing deeply.

Samwell thought Salu was finished, but the shaman spoke again: "My lord, may I recommend a boy to serve as your squire?"

Samwell's face grew thoughtful. He didn't appreciate the shaman's audacity in trying to place someone close to him.

Seeing the misunderstanding, Salu quickly added, "My lord, the boy is of the chieftain's bloodline. Having him as your squire would be a great honor for the entire Tigerfang Tribe."

"The old chieftain's kin?" Samwell looked at Chiman. "You have another brother?"

Before Chiman could reply, Salu clarified, "No, my lord, I mean the old chieftain's grandson, Kart."

Realization dawned on Samwell. He looked at Salu with newfound interest. "Is he Chika's or Chimu's son?"

"Chika's, my lord."

"Bring him here."

Salu left and soon returned with a boy of about thirteen or fourteen, leading him by the hand. "Katu, you will serve as the lord's squire, caring for his horse, bearing his arms, cleaning his armor, and obeying all his commands. Do you understand?"

The boy shook his head, muttering, "But I don't want to be his squire. He killed my father!"

"He killed your father in battle, fair and true. You shouldn't hate him for it; you should admire his skill. Besides, if you stay here, your life may be at risk."

"Why?"

"Do you know how your grandfather died?"

"Wasn't he sick?"

"No, he was smothered by Chiman."

Katu's mouth dropped open in shock.

"Then why don't you tell everyone?"

Salu placed a finger to his lips. "Even if I spoke the truth, who would believe me? It would only bring greater turmoil to the Tigerfang Tribe."

Salu said no more, pulling Katu along back to the wooden house.

"My lord, this is Katu."

Seeing Katu standing in shock, Salu gently nudged him forward.

Katu stole a quick glance at his uncle, then averted his gaze. Kneeling before Samwell, he said, "Honored lord, please allow me to be your squire."

Samwell looked toward Chiman, who stood with an expressionless face, his gaze fixed on the ground as if indifferent to the scene unfolding before him.

"Granted."

(End of Chapter)