"We don't have the money to support a sellsword company right now," said Ser Gregor Clegane.
"Sellswords are meant to make money, ser," said Jeyne as she carefully spread honey over Lord Tywin's bread.
"Fine," said Gregor.
"Ser Gregor, our hundred-strong cavalry company costs a hundred gold dragons a month. We can't afford that. And there's also the care of the horses, the supplies we need to stockpile for winter, everything costs money."
The lords at the table all burst into laughter.
"You've married well, Ser Gregor," said Lord Auren.
"Of course! I told her last night, she must wake up before me and go to bed after I sleep. Everything in the household, from income to expenses, will be her responsibility."
Lord Marbrand chuckled. "And what about you, Ser Gregor? Doing nothing at all?"
"I'm responsible for protecting her and the lands," Gregor replied. "Anyone who tries to bully her, or the Cleganes, I'll strike down! I'm the commander of Lady Jeyne's newly formed Clegane Sellsword Company."
...
After attending the wedding of Gregor and Jeyne, the northern lords of the Westerlands began their return journey. It was a beautiful morning.
While in the North it was already time for fur cloaks and mole-skin gloves, the Westerlands still felt like spring. Apart from a chill in the early hours, the temperature climbed steadily after breakfast.
It was the ninth year of the Long Summer. Aside from the North's bitter cold, the rest of the realm enjoyed good weather and timely rain. Food stores were full across noble estates.
The first rice harvest of the Westerlands was halfway ripe. Along the royal road north of Casterly Rock, golden fields of grain stretched as far as the eye could see.
A wide road extended straight from Casterly Rock to the cities in the northern Westerlands.
At the very edge of the Westerlands stood a mountainous region. Beyond those mountains was the sea, and not far out into that sea were the infamous Iron Islands. To the east, the mountains bordered the Riverlands, but that area was wild and trackless.
The northern lords traveled in light clothing and caps, laughter carrying far along the road.
Ten miles from the city, the royal road was suddenly blocked by two large banners: one bore the sigil of House Westerling, a field of yellow sand with six white shells, and the other the black three dogs on yellow of House Clegane.
Beneath the banners, Gregor Clegane stood in full armor, wearing a massive flat-topped helm. His red-bronze armor gleamed in the sun.
Wearing such armor in this warm climate was sweltering, but he stood unmoved.
Lined up across the road was Gregor's fearsome red-armored cavalry: precisely eighty-six men, no more, no less. At the side, eight Westerling guards stood in a line, but in front of Gregor's cavalry, they looked entirely out of place.
Gregor Clegane and his father-in-law, Gawen Westerling, stood at the head of the column.
The road was completely blocked, and Gregor made no sign of giving way.
The northern lords were startled, sensing trouble. Just this morning, they had all eaten breakfast at Lord Tywin's table. What in the Seven Hells was the Mountain up to?
Behind Gregor, his riders raised their long spears into the sky, row upon row.
These spears could be used to charge, to stab, or even be thrown like javelins.
Among the nobles present, the most powerful was Lord Marbrand of Ashemark. His family bore a sigil of a burning tree wreathed in orange smoke, with the house words: Burning Bright.
Lord Marbrand's aunt was Lord Tywin's mother, making him a close blood relative. Tywin was his first cousin.
He had brought along his heroic son, Addam Marbrand, to attend Gregor's wedding. They were now returning home together.
Addam was the heir to Ashemark, an outstanding rider, a brilliant archer, and highly skilled in combat. Gregor also knew that in the wars to come, Addam's talents would shine even brighter.
Raised in Casterly Rock, Addam had served as a page to Lord Tywin. He was childhood companions with Jaime Lannister and one of his closest friends and cousins. Tall and lean, he wore long hair the color of red bronze.
Most feared the Mountain, but in the Westerlands, there were at least two who didn't: Jaime Lannister and Addam Marbrand. Neither had ever shown fear in front of Gregor.
Addam spurred his horse forward and called out, "Ser Gregor! Congratulations on your marriage! Are you heading north with your good father-in-law to pay respects to your mother-in-law?"
Gregor's mother-in-law, being a merchant's daughter, was disliked by Tywin and looked down on by the high lords. To avoid awkwardness at the feast, she hadn't even been invited to her daughter Jeyne's wedding at Casterly Rock.
Gregor replied, "Addam, thank you, and thank your father, Lord Marbrand, for attending the wedding. Now that I've married Jeyne Westerling, I'm part of the Westerling family. I hear someone's been interfering with my father-in-law's ancestral lands, offering twice the value to buy them up. Sorry, but today, I'm taking it all back. I'm not the type to wait around for people to return what they've stolen. I prefer to take it myself."
Addam laughed. "Your father-in-law's lands were either sold to us or pledged as collateral, signed, sealed, and agreed. And now you want them back at the original price while forbidding others from offering more? You think you can just take it back because you say so?"
"No," Gregor said. "Not just because I say so, because of this."
He drew a deep breath and suddenly roared, "Who dares say no?!"
His shout exploded like thunder, startling Addam's horse. The animal reared and bolted backward, crashing into the horses behind. Several mounts were spooked, one rearing high and throwing Addam to the ground.
Furious, Addam sprang up, but a sudden splash of blood soaked his face and hair.
Gregor had drawn his massive greatsword and, with a diagonal slash, cut Addam's horse clean in two.
Lord Marbrand rushed forward to shield his son, Addam was the heir to Ashemark, and could not be lost.
"Lord Marbrand!" Gregor bellowed. "You've seized my father-in-law's fertile lands and hills for years, and now you're trying to secretly buy more of the lands others were about to return! I'll ask you once: Will you return what's ours?"
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The four knights at Marbrand's side drew their blades to protect their lord.
Lord Marbrand sneered. "Gregor, I didn't seize anything. I paid for those lands. All of them. You raise a hand again, and I'll go straight to Lord Tywin."
He banked on his blood relation to Tywin, his mother was Tywin's aunt.
Gregor let out a low, mocking laugh. "Lord Marbrand, I'm taking back what's mine at the price you once stole it. Don't think you can scare me with your cousin."
Addam had already mounted another horse, his blood boiling. "The Mountain insulted me! Knights of House Marbrand, what are you waiting for? Kill this damned dog!"
The four knights responded immediately, spurring their mounts and charging with swords raised.
Gregor turned to Gawen. "Father-in-law, are these four dogs of yours named Marbrand?"
Gawen shook his head.
"Oh, my mistake. Just four of House Marbrand's kennel mutts."
Everyone may be a dog, but even dogs have ranks.
The name Marbrand carried weight, but...
Gregor spurred his mount into a charge. With a mighty swing of his greatsword, he swept through the first knight like straw, cleaving him clean in half. The upper body flew through the air while the legs remained firmly in the saddle.
Gasps erupted from the opposing side.
Gregor reined in his horse and spun his wrist. The greatsword twirled in a flourish before he brought it down in a brutal vertical chop, cleaving the second knight and his horse cleanly in two. Blood splattered like rain, painting the road red.
"Well struck!"
Behind him, his eighty-some mounted brutes roared in thunderous cheers.
⚔────────
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