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"And you actually found it?" Ian asked.
"No," Wilder shook his head. "None of the people we sent near White Wall City found anything. But my son, Roger, had an unexpected encounter."
He paused, then continued, "It happened about ten days ago. Roger returned from Silent Island with four of his men. He had gone there to repent." Sir Wilder stopped for a moment, not elaborating further on the matter of repentance.
Ian was familiar with Silent Island. It was said that a saint had visited the island two thousand years ago and performed many holy miracles there. Since then, people often journeyed to the island to pray or seek forgiveness.
"In any case," Sir Wilder went on, "Roger rowed back from Silent Island and landed at the abandoned fishing village. After coming ashore, he encountered a group of people there, led by a knight.
Roger passed them without any confrontation, but as he walked by the knight, he noticed that the man's right forearm was missing."
"I remember—when you fought the Ghost Knight of White Wall City, you cut off his right forearm, didn't you?" Ian recalled immediately.
"Exactly! Wait, when did I ever tell you about that?" Wilder asked in surprise.
"That's not important," Ian said, shaking his head. "Keep going. Tell me more."
"Roger grew suspicious," Wilder continued. "But he didn't dare act recklessly. He wasn't wearing armor, and the knight had seven men with him. Roger knew he stood no chance in a fight.
After leaving the fishing village, Roger stationed two of his men nearby to keep watch and rushed back to Wylla's manor to report. As I mentioned, the fishing village is only six leagues from here. I happened to be at the manor at the time.
The moment I heard his report, we quickly gathered more than ten men and set off with Roger to the fishing village.
Before we reached it, we encountered one of the two men Roger had left behind. He was running toward us, breathless, to report that a caravan of over twenty people had entered the village and joined up with those already inside."
"A normal caravan wouldn't go near an abandoned fishing village," Ian said, starting to believe Sir Wilder's judgment.
"Exactly. I concluded that it must be the Ghost Knight's company from White Wall City, and they were likely moving the Blackfire treasure to the fishing village," Sir Wilder nodded. "It was a perfect opportunity, but we were too few to launch an attack.
We didn't dare approach the village openly, fearing we would alert them.
So I had Sir Willy stay back with the others, while Roger and I went alone to scout the area. We found a hidden spot to observe the village, hoping to find a way to turn the situation in our favor."
Wilder glanced at Ian after speaking.
"What are you looking at me for? Keep talking," Ian said, puzzled.
"Ah, Ser Lucian, I thought you might have some unique insight," Wilder said with a grin.
"Go on, my friend. Go on."
"In the village," Wilder continued, "there were more than thirty men—the knight's group and the caravan combined. If we attacked them head-on, we wouldn't stand a chance. And since they were waiting there, it meant a ship would be coming to pick them up. That made our odds even worse.
I was almost ready to give up hope.
But just when I thought we had lost our chance at the treasure, the caravan suddenly left the village! They headed west, toward the King's Road."
"They didn't manage to transport the treasure all at once?" Ian's first reaction was one of surprise.
"Yes, my thoughts exactly."
"You said it was a caravan of more than twenty people. How many carts did they have?"
"Seven? Or eight? Either way, it was a sizable group."
"Then the question is—what we're calling the Blackfire Treasure wasn't left by Damon Blackfire, but by Ambrose Battery, Earl of Whitewall City. How much wealth could he have possibly left behind? A hundred thousand gold dragons weighs just over 1,600 pounds and can be easily carried in two and a half boxes."
"By the Seven! How could the Earl of Whitewall have amassed so much gold so easily? Most of the treasure he left behind was probably silver deer, right?" Sir Wilder rolled his eyes. "Marder! As expected from a member of the Lannister family, turning gold into gold! Have you never seen silver in your life?"
"And a hundred thousand gold dragons? How dare you think such a thing! If there were a treasure worth twenty to thirty thousand gold dragons, the Seven Gods would be blessing us. But a hundred thousand? Why don't you go home and let Lord Tywin pull you by the nose!"
"Uh..." Ian rubbed his forehead in embarrassment. He had assumed gold dragons were standard currency since the system had sent him 3,000 gold dragons at once, which made him subconsciously view them as normal.
Well, if the treasure was mostly silver deer or even copper coins, then a caravan like that would definitely need multiple trips to move everything. After all, the exchange rate of gold dragons to silver deer in this world is an astonishing 1:210.
But something still felt off to Ian. He questioned himself internally, but after thinking it over for a while, he couldn't pinpoint what was wrong. So, he let it go. "Go on, Sir."
"Did you just think of something?" Sir Wilder noticed Ian's expression. He now valued Ian's thoughts more than ever, just as he had once paid close attention to the opinions of 'Black Falcon' and Sir Simon.
In Wilder's experience, if someone had a sharp mind, it was best to listen carefully.
"No," Ian shook his head. "I just feel like something's not right, but I haven't figured it out yet. Don't worry, if I come to a conclusion, I'll let you know as soon as I do."
"Go on, Sir Wilder. Finish your story." Ian urged him once again.
"Alright, alright," Wilder nodded. "When I realized the treasure couldn't be moved all at once, two ideas came to mind. First, we could immediately attack the abandoned fishing village and seize the treasure that had already been taken. Once we had that, we could send men to follow the caravan and find where they were hiding the rest."
"But you didn't choose either of those options," Ian pointed out. "If you had, we wouldn't be sitting here waiting now."
"You truly know everything. You're like an old woman come down to earth," Wilder sighed.
"Believe me, I'd rather hear the praises of a warrior than be compared to an old woman." Ian rolled his eyes. "Go on, though. I think your story is nearly done, right?"
"Yes, as you said, I didn't choose either option, because if we alerted them, we wouldn't have been able to get the full treasure."