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After Ramsay released them, Sam and the other three looked around the interrogation room for short daggers they could use easily.
"Lord Ramsay, as for what comes next, we'll do whatever you tell us."
Since Sam knew nothing about the layout of the Dreadfort, he spoke with complete honesty.
"In a moment, I'll show you the way to the stables. As for what to do after that, I don't need to explain, do I?"
"Understood. We only hope Lord Ramsay can give us a little more time to withdraw."
"Don't worry. Lord Robb specifically instructed me to do everything possible to ensure your safety."
"Then we're counting on you."
After exchanging a few words and confirming there was no one outside, Ramsay and the other five opened the door and slipped out.
Following Ramsay's lead, they avoided the patrols along the way without much risk.
The interrogation room was beneath an inner fortification that served as barracks, not far from the stables.
A few minutes later, Ramsay stopped by a window, pointed out the route to the stables for Sam, then calmly headed off toward the wall above, whistling as he went.
Sam and the other three carefully approached the stables and discovered two Bolton guards at the entrance, talking quietly.
On the wall directly facing the stables, an archer stood watch beside a lit brazier.
Sam and the others took a closer look and realized the stables had two entrances, both guarded. The other one was closer to the castle gate, and that section of the wall had even more archers on watch.
As he was thinking about how to get in without making any noise, one of the wolf guards glanced up at the wall and tapped him on the shoulder.
Following his gaze, Sam saw Ramsay up there, smiling and waving at them.
With the problem on the wall taken care of, Sam pointed at the two guards at the stable door.
The two wolf guards nodded and moved silently toward them.
Sam was smart and fully aware of his own limitations. He knew he wasn't suited for that kind of work. It had to be done by professionals.
And, just as expected, the two guards at the entrance never even had time to react before their throats were cut from behind by the wolf guards.
After dragging the two lifeless bodies into a corner of the stable, the pair came back out a moment later wearing the guards' clothes and took up position at the entrance as if they belonged there.
Sam exchanged a glance with the remaining wolf guard and quickly ran into the stable.
The moment he entered, the stench hit him full in the face. After all, there were hundreds of warhorses eating, drinking, and relieving themselves in there. The smell could only be awful.
The two of them covered their noses and began searching for the target. A few minutes later, they found the three transport wagons, easy enough to recognize.
They immediately walked over and started feeling along the barrels on all three wagons. As Sam's right hand lightly brushed the bottom of one barrel, his fingers suddenly touched a raised triangular mark.
"Found it. This is my wagon. Stay here and keep watch. I'm going out to inform Lord Ramsay."
Sam raised his head and whispered that to the guard before turning and hurrying back toward the stable entrance.
When he reached the door, he knocked lightly. After the two men standing watch confirmed that no one was nearby, he stepped straight outside.
On the wall across from him, Ramsay was watching the activity at the stable entrance while making small adjustments to the arrow in his hand.
When he saw Sam come out and signal that everything had gone smoothly, Ramsay smiled and pointed toward the castle gate.
A few minutes later, one of the infiltrators was driving a transport wagon. Sam and the other two, dressed in guards' clothing, walked alongside it as they headed for the gate.
As the wagon rolled forward, the archers on the wall noticed it as well. But questioning and searching was the gate guards' job, so they merely kept watching.
At the castle gate, the guards who had been lazily leaning there had already seen the wagon approaching. They straightened up and waited to stop it.
Sam carefully chose his position. Pretending to steady the wagon with one hand, he used his left hand to pry open the triangular seal on the barrel just slightly.
At once, a green liquid with a harsh smell began to seep out from inside.
After opening the seal on the barrel, Sam turned his head and looked toward the wall on the left.
Up above, Ramsay had clearly seen the small movement. He was smiling now, nodding to him.
"Ramsay, I've been looking for you everywhere. Get down here now, I have orders for you!"
At that moment, back near the stables behind them, Roose Bolton had just arrived with that rider. The instant he looked up, he spotted Ramsay on the wall.
Cautious and calculating as ever, he did not immediately shout for the guards to seize him. Instead, he used his usual calm tone and called out to him loudly.
Ramsay looked at the rider beside his father, recognized his face, curled one corner of his mouth, and then shouted with a laugh:
"Father, Lord Robb sends you his sincerest regards!"
The moment he finished speaking, Ramsay raised the special arrow he had already lit in the brazier, drew his bow, and loosed it.
While the guards at the gate were distracted by Roose's shout behind them, Sam and the others did not stop the wagon. They kept it moving slowly forward.
Sam, who had been watching Ramsay over his shoulder the entire time, saw him pull the bowstring and instantly yanked the short dagger from his sleeve, driving it with all his strength into the thick hindquarters of the wagon horse while shouting at the same time:
"Run!"
Feeling the pain, the horse let out a loud whinny and bolted toward the gate.
The barrels, tightly secured, did not fall. But the barrel leaking green liquid began pouring out even faster as the wagon raced forward.
At the same time, the three wolf guards, including the one driving the wagon, heard Sam's shout and immediately threw themselves aside, rolling and scrambling toward any solid cover they could find.
Lord Roose, the rider, the archers on the wall, and the guards at the gate all turned their eyes to the flaming arrow at once.
The burning arrow struck the green liquid on the ground with perfect accuracy.
In the same instant, a green flame burst into life and, like a venomous serpent slithering along the ground, raced swiftly down the trail of spilled liquid, chasing after the wagon that had nearly reached the gate.
BOOM!
The moment the green serpent caught up to the wagon and reached the barrel still leaking liquid, the explosion came.
A green mushroom-shaped cloud rose with the shattered wagon at its center and spread rapidly in every direction.
The gate guards, caught in the heart of it, had their flesh, and even much of their bones, burned away by the extreme heat.
Those flames were like a plague that clung to the bone. Anything they touched ignited, and they were nearly impossible to extinguish.
On the right-hand wall, one archer standing too close was struck in the face by a single spark.
No matter how desperately he screamed and beat at it, that tiny flame kept burning through his flesh with relentless persistence, burning a hole into his face before finally going out.
The gate of the Dreadfort was made of extremely thick oak, reinforced with iron plates and studded with massive rivets.
But that gate, which had stopped countless enemies before, was first blown apart by the violent explosion of the barrels, then devoured by the green flames until nothing remained.
Outside the Dreadfort, beneath the dark night sky.
Robb waited in silence with the entire cavalry force, hidden in the darkness. Suddenly, the explosion echoed in the distance, and soon a green blaze rose above the castle.
Looking at that fire, beautiful and deadly at the same time, Robb murmured:
"In truth, it should have lit up Winterfell a long time ago. Seeing it only now makes it a belated firework."
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