Solomon stood on a newly leveled high platform, overlooking the bustling construction site below.
He had the goods to make a fortune. Now, he needed a channel to reach the big players. He needed to bring some merchants back.
Luchen stood solemnly behind him, awaiting orders. He had been summoned.
"The sunlight is quite nice," Solomon remarked.
Luchen was confused. Lord Solomon never spoke meaningless words. Luchen lowered his head in thought, raised it to frown, then lowered it again, trying desperately to decipher the hidden meaning of "sunlight is nice."
"Luchen!" Solomon ordered.
"Here, my Lord." Luchen snapped to attention. Finally! Is it a mission?
"I have a task for you!" Solomon turned to face him. "Gather fifty soldiers! Go to the Kingsroad!"
Luchen's heart gave a fierce thump. I knew it. His hand instinctively went to his sword hilt, remembering the "bandit" operation from not long ago.
"I understand your meaning, my Lord! Don't worry!" Luchen said ferociously.
"Go 'intercept' a caravan!" Solomon used a peculiar word. "Remember! Preferably one from King's Landing! One with a large enough scale! And flags that are sufficiently flashy!"
"Rest assured, my Lord! Not one will escape! No news will leak!" Luchen pounded his chest, then tilted his head, trying to be smart.
"Lord Solomon! I think we shouldn't do this on our own land! Let me take the brothers, disguise ourselves, and do it on another lord's territory! What do you think, my Lord?"
Solomon: "..."
Solomon's eyes widened. "Who told you to rob them? I need you to intercept. Intercept. Do you understand?"
"I understand! Lord Solomon!" Luchen's eyes shone with grim determination.
Solomon sighed. He had to be blunt.
"...It is a genuine invitation! Invite them!!!"
Solomon emphasized the pronunciation of the word "Invite."
"Ah!..." Luchen's brain seemed to short-circuit.
Solomon rubbed his face with his right hand. "You stand in the middle of the road. Set up a formation. When they stop, you tell the master of the caravan that my Lord, Lord Solomon, invites him to his territory as a guest."
Tax Officer Barna frowned from the side. "Lord Solomon, merchants are mostly cunning and wary, especially big caravans from King's Landing. They have their own backgrounds and guards."
"Their eyes won't look at a minor lord. To them, as long as they pay the toll, they owe nothing. I fear they won't easily accept an invitation."
A smile curled the corner of Solomon's mouth. He took out a failed single-monocle crystal lens and handed it to Luchen. "That is why your posture must be tough."
"You must make them understand that this is not a multiple-choice question. But at the same time, make them see the profit."
"Show them this. Tell them my territory has goods that cannot be bought in King's Landing or even the Free Cities. If they are willing to come, I will show them true wealth. If they are not willing..."
"Then make them understand that if they refuse my invitation, they won't be leaving."
"I understand! Lord Solomon!" Luchen put away the lens and bowed. He was slightly disappointed that it wasn't a robbery. "Mission guaranteed!"
On the Kingsroad, dust billowed.
Luchen led fifty soldiers and deployed them in formation in the center of the Kingsroad.
Thirty soldiers stood openly in the middle of the road, arranged in three rows, silent as a mountain. Their hands rested on their sword hilts. Though they still wore tattered armor, they radiated an inexplicable aura of menace, causing passing travelers and small caravans to give them a wide berth.
In the distance, a massive caravan slowly approached.
Over a dozen heavy wagons loaded with goods were surrounded by fifty guards. A huge flag embroidered with wheat ears fluttered in the wind.
The caravan's scouts spotted the army on the road and immediately reined in their horses to report back. Soon, the entire caravan halted. The caravan guards drew their longswords, and archers nocked their arrows, tensely confronting the army ahead.
The atmosphere instantly became taut with drawn swords and bent bows. Bold. Too bold. Fifty soldiers holding sharp blades, standing on the King's highway, ignoring pedestrians and small merchants—they were clearly targeting this specific caravan.
A guard captain in chainmail spurred his horse forward and shouted loudly: "Who are you! Clear the road immediately! We are the Grain Merchants Guild of King's Landing! Protected by the King of the Seven Kingdoms!"
Luchen remained motionless. Only when the opponent entered speaking distance did he spur his warhorse, slowly moving forward alone. The soldiers behind him remained still as statues.
"We bear no malice, my Lord." Luchen's voice was clear and loud, reaching the entire caravan formation. "I act on the orders of my Lord to wait here and invite a meeting."
The guard captain looked wary. "Waiting? Is this what waiting looks like?"
Just then, a steady voice came from a lavishly decorated carriage.
"Let them come over."
"I am the President of the Grain Guild, Roderick. Who wants to see me?"
The carriage curtain was lifted, and a middle-aged man, well-dressed and slightly portly, stepped out.
He was in his forties, with shrewd eyes. His face carried a trace of displeasure at being offended and a sneer, but mostly scrutiny and curiosity. Who dares block the Kingsroad to invite me?
He was the President of the King's Landing Grain Guild. Let alone minor nobles, even some great lords and the King occasionally wanted to borrow money from him. He assumed some petty lord had gotten greedy, not realizing that one couldn't be a merchant in Westeros without powerful backing.
Roderick slowly sized up Luchen and the well-equipped, disciplined unit behind him. The smile on his face faded. He had traveled north and south for decades; looking at the eyes and stance of these soldiers, he could tell at a glance they were not ordinary bandits or mountain clans. Judging by the location, the one who wanted to see him was likely the "Black Lion," the boy lord whose rise was currently the talk of the taverns.
Roderick spoke slowly, "You stopped my caravan. What is your intention?"
Luchen bowed slightly in the saddle, his attitude neither humble nor arrogant.
"President Roderick. My Lord, the ruler of this land, Lord Solomon, has long heard of the Grain Guild's fame. He specially ordered me to wait here and invite you and your caravan to his territory as guests."
Roderick almost laughed out loud. "An invitation? Sending an invitation with sharp blades? Your Lord is truly unique. And if I don't go? What does he dare do to me?"
"My Lord says that for distinguished guests, we must show the most solemn etiquette," Luchen replied calmly. Following Solomon's instructions, he took out the crystal lens from his breast pocket.
A guard beside Roderick immediately stepped forward, carefully took it, checked for danger, and then presented it to the President.
Roderick took it and looked. A mirror surface as smooth as water appeared before his eyes. It clearly reflected his own surprised face. It was ten times clearer than the expensive copper mirrors used by the noble ladies of King's Landing.
However, while valuable, such a thing was not unheard of.
Roderick looked at Luchen, seeming to imply, Is this it?
But Luchen gestured to his own eye, signaling Roderick to hold it up to his eye. Roderick frowned, thinking it a mystery, but casually placed it before his eye.
Instantly, his eyes widened. He sucked in a breath of cold air. His gaze changed, becoming bloodshot, like a hungry wolf seeing prey.
"This... Is this made by your Lord?" Roderick's tone revealed a trace of madness.
Luchen took the object back and put it back in his pocket. "That is just a sample."
"My Lord says he has things that can change the world. He is only willing to share them with friends who have vision. He believes you are such a friend."
Luchen felt that after mixing with the literate folks, his speaking skills had improved. Who knows you people? You were just unlucky enough to run into us.
"So, you essentially—" Luchen's words were interrupted as he looked at the great merchant who had suddenly become strange.
"Take me there!!!!" Roderick said ferociously.
The massive caravan mixed with Solomon's soldiers, turned around, and slowly drove toward the rugged path leading deep into the mountains.
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