Solomon stood up, personally picked up the flagon, and poured a cup of ale for Roderick. Then, he walked over to the silent guard captain and poured a cup for him as well:
"It seems Lord Roderick has had a hard journey. We won't keep you longer."
Solomon raised his own cup, gesturing for the three to drink together:
"Happy cooperation!"
For him, the money was in hand, the goods were given, and the goal was achieved. As for who these people were and what schemes they had, it had nothing to do with him. As for helping Roderick, they were at most nodding acquaintances. There was absolutely no need. Not participating was the best outcome.
The guard captain looked down at the wine cup in front of him, then looked up at Solomon, a flash of surprise in his eyes. He raised the cup and took a small sip.
Seeing the other party take a sip, Solomon turned to Luchen, who was attending behind him:
"Luchen, mobilize one hundred soldiers to escort Lord Roderick's team out of our territory."
Solomon emphasized the word "escort" and added in a low voice to Luchen:
"You must watch them with your own eyes until they completely leave our borders."
This Roderick and this group of people would become a trouble, but as long as they left his turf, it had nothing to do with him.
After sending the team away, Solomon immediately issued a second order:
"Barna, transfer all Gold Dragons deep into the mountain, to the secret vault behind my room."
Everyone dispersed upon receiving orders, leaving only Evelyn, who was nominally still Solomon's handmaiden. The woman had been silent since the meeting room, but now finally broke her silence: "Those people were not from House Tyrell."
Solomon smiled at her: "How so?"
The woman spoke slowly: "Roderick and those people didn't mention the agreement a single time until the end—that during this period, you are not allowed to produce or sell any pair of glasses."
"Roderick didn't say it. That guard captain, the actual leader of the team, didn't say it either."
"Roderick's performance was too obvious. He was constantly exposing himself and signaling to you. Why didn't you help him?"
Solomon picked up his wine cup and downed the water-like ale in one gulp: "I've got the Gold Dragons. I've given the goods. I've escorted the people out politely. The matter has nothing to do with me."
"Getting involved in things beyond one's power leads to a quick death."
"Go rest. I have to hold a meeting tonight, right here."
Solomon looked at Evelyn's retreating figure. There were some things he didn't say. In Westeros, families who dared to oppose House Tyrell were rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns. If he really made a move, he would be making an enemy of the other party. Anyway, House Tyrell already had a sample they could imitate.
Night fell. Inside the Lion's Den council chamber, torches burned with a crackling sound.
Solomon summoned his main courtiers in the Lion's Den: Evelyn, Luchen, Lauchlan, and Barna. The other four Military Forts each had three semi-literate administrative, tax, and military officers presiding over them. Although they were semi-literate, they had to accumulate experience. Olivier remained to guard the Old Castle of House Terry.
Solomon looked at everyone, indicating this was purely a military meeting. His gaze swept over everyone, fingers tapping the table: "We have money. We have a sturdy fortress."
"But this is not enough."
"We must not only have the strongest shield but also the sharpest sword!"
"The idea of forming cavalry is currently unrealistic and is temporarily shelved."
Luchen and Lauchlan were somewhat surprised but didn't refute Lord Solomon. They knew Lord Solomon had always wanted to form a cavalry unit and had mentioned to them many times about letting some veterans take turns riding horses to learn equestrian skills.
"Warhorses are a strategic resource. Each family firmly controls the warhorses in their hands. We cannot obtain enough excellent warhorses to equip a charging formation through normal channels."
Solomon stood up and walked to the precise map drawn by Evelyn hanging on the wall.
"Since we have the danger of mountains and rivers and a strong city to rely on, we must pour all resources into one thing: Heavy Infantry."
Solomon pointed to the wooden stand Barna had just ordered men to carry in. Everyone looked back:
At the gate, a complete set of plate armor stood quietly on the wooden stand. Barna proudly brushed away non-existent dust from the armor's shoulder, his voice full of unconcealable pride: "Gentlemen! Please look!"
Luchen, Lauchlan, and even Evelyn widened their eyes. This set of plate armor was entirely pitch-black. The surface seemed to have undergone a special blackening and oil-quenching process, absorbing most of the light, reflecting only a dim, deep cold light at the edges.
In the center of the breastplate, a roaring black lion head relief with bared fangs stood out. Every strand of mane, every fang was clearly visible. The lines of the lion's mane were as thick as thorns. The open giant maw was outlined to be exceptionally wide, almost occupying the entire head, revealing four sharp teeth, radiating immense killing intent, as if it would emit a deafening roar in the next moment.
The matching exquisite longsword was named Lion's Tooth, and the end of the hilt was also a finely carved lion's head.
The most eye-catching part was the helmet. It was fashioned into a hideous lion's head. When the visor was lowered, the wearer transformed into a black male lion, revealing cold killing intent only through the eye slits.
Solomon stroked his chin with satisfaction. Armor and military uniforms needed to be cool; it could even add a combat power buff.
"By the Seven..." Luchen's eyes shone. He walked up quickly, unable to resist reaching out. His fingertips slid across the cold surface of the breastplate, making a slight sound of metal friction.
"This is a soldier worthy of Lord Solomon!" Lauchlan also stepped forward when Luchen did, nodding vigorously from the side. He tried to lift a gauntlet, feeling the heavy weight, his face full of fanaticism.
Sounds of admiration echoed in the stone hall. This set of Black Lion Armor perfectly embodied all the imagination the two had for Solomon's soldiers: illustrious military exploits, invincible. They had already begun to imagine how imposing it would be if all three hundred of them had such equipment back then.
Just when Luchen and Lauchlan were at their highest spirits, Tax Officer Barna the Beggar, who was originally the most excited, cleared his throat: "My Lords, this masterpiece is indeed pride-worthy."
Luchen and Lauchlan's eyes converged on him, expecting his subsequent praise.
Barna paused, feeling the enthusiastic gazes of Luchen and Lauchlan, seeming somewhat unbearable. Finally, he slowly spat out the second half of the sentence: "But, to forge it, from smelting to forging to the final finishing, consumed almost one-tenth of all the iron ingots exchanged from the goods Roderick intended to sell to the North and finally used to offset the price."
The noisy council chamber instantly quieted down. Only the crackling sound of burning torches could be heard.
Barna looked at the frozen expressions of Luchen and Lauchlan and continued to announce that cruel conclusion in his low tone:
"In other words, with our current total iron reserves, at most, we can only forge nine more sets of such equipment."
The atmosphere plummeted from the peak of fanaticism to freezing point. Nine sets. This number was like a block of ice, freezing the warm scene. Luchen and Lauchlan knew Solomon wanted to build an army, not a nine-man squad.
Solomon slowly walked forward and pressed his palm on that cold breastplate.