Lord Leo was stunned, he could hardly believe what he was seeing.
In the blink of an eye, the men of the Mountain had fully armed themselves. Outside, a faint summer starlight glimmered over the land.
The Mountain said calmly, "My lord, please change clothes. We'll wait for you."
Leo forced a smile, trying to mask his unease. "Very well. I'll get ready and go with you. But Ser, the road from Golden Tooth to Ashemark is nothing but rugged mountain paths. It's dangerous at night, wolves, shadow lynxes, hidden hunter traps. The terrain is steep and treacherous, and the roads aren't paved. It won't be easy to travel."
"We'll light torches to guide the way. The cool summer night is perfect for marching," the Mountain replied. "And yes, there are beasts in the mountains, but all fear fire. If you're still concerned, I'll personally stay by your side the entire way."
His sincere expression made Leo feel like he was in some bizarre dream.
"Ser, must we really leave tonight? I haven't even had time to prepare a gift for you," Leo protested, searching for any excuse.
"Your presence is the greatest gift, My lord," the Mountain replied firmly, respectful but unwavering.
Leo had no choice. He didn't want the Mountain drawing a sword right in his chambers. Every one of the Mountain's men reeked of violence, their faces fierce and unyielding.
"Very well, Ser. I'll accompany you through the mountains tonight. Give me a moment to change." With that, he rose and walked toward the inner chamber.
The Mountain gave a slight nod, and immediately the hulking Chiswick, the loyal Polliver, and the executioner Dunsen followed Lord Leo closely.
Leo felt like his head had doubled in size.
He knew the Mountain's temper. Refusing him would bring serious trouble. Though the Mountain might not dare take his life, Leo couldn't touch him either. The Mountain was the son-in-law of Lord Tywin's most prized general, a blood-soaked terror of the Westerlands, loyal to Tywin for over twenty years. Recently, thanks to a series of inventions, his influence has only grown. He had become Tywin's most favored commander.
Since the Mountain had personally come to invite him to the wedding, it was best not to make enemies over a joyous occasion.
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A little over half an hour later, the drawbridge of Golden Tooth slowly lowered. The Mountain led the way, with Lord Leo in the center, protected on all sides by Clegane's men. The group headed northwest along a mountain road.
Though mountainous, the Westerlands were rich in gold and minerals, and their roads, even the ones through rough terrain, were generally well constructed. Twenty-three torches were lit, flickering like stars in the night as the group pressed forward swiftly through the near pitch-black paths.
The land in the Westerlands sloped from high in the east to low in the west. The eastern side was filled with towering peaks and treacherous cliffs, places where one wrong step could send a mule, horse, or even a wild boar plummeting to its death. But if there was a path, it was typically well built.
They marched through the night, only slowing at dawn. By morning, they had emerged from the mountains into gently rolling hills, territory belonging to House Marbrand. Just across the river ahead lay Ashemark, the Marbrand family's seat, about a hundred miles away.
Lord Leo was visibly weary after the overnight journey. "Ser, once we cross the river, Ashemark is not far. If we push forward, we could reach the city in just over an hour. Let's rest there a while, eat something, recover, and move on refreshed."
The Mountain nodded. "We'll rest, yes, but not across the river. Let's find a good spot nearby first."
He turned his horse into a side trail, leading them into a dense, untouched forest.
Before Leo could react, the twenty-two Clegane men surrounded him and herded him down the path into the woods.
They went deep into the forest before stopping in a wind-sheltered, well-watered clearing. Everyone dismounted, fed their horses, laid out carpets, and pitched tents. Several archers went hunting and quickly returned with rabbits, a deer, a weasel, and several foxes. The men gutted and cleaned the animals, skewered the meat on branches, and started roasting them over open flames.
The Mountain took salt from his pack and sprinkled it evenly over the meat. As the golden fat began sizzling and dripping into the fire, the smell became irresistible.
With the salt enhancing the flavor, the roast meat's aroma filled the air. Everyone began to salivate.
Cloaks were spread out as picnic mats, covered with bread, honey, spice sachets, dried meat, fruit wine, and fresh fruits. The group sat down, wrapped hot meat in oiled cloth, and feasted.
Even Lord Leo relaxed. He stopped worrying about the Mountain's strange behavior. He was here to celebrate a wedding, after all, why not go along with it?
With that thought, he put aside his suspicions, ate heartily, drank deeply, and finally crawled into a tent for sleep. And what a sleep it was, deep, peaceful, and the best rest he'd had in years. He awoke refreshed, brimming with energy.
When he emerged from the tent, he saw that all the others had already packed up. Judging by the setting sun outside the forest, he realized he'd slept nearly the whole day.
Soon, the group mounted up again and rode to the river, where ferries were already waiting. Only then did Leo realize the Mountain had sent men ahead to arrange the boats while he slept.
Once across the river, the terrain became easier still. No more towering peaks, just rolling hills.
The sun was setting, and twilight approached.
The Mountain, with his hearty appetite, was eating dried meat and bread on horseback, washing it down with fruit wine. Others followed suit. Clearly, they planned to travel through the night again, reaching Cliffkeep by morning.
Lord Leo urged his horse closer to the Mountain's side. "Ser, Ashemark is just ahead. I have a good relationship with Lord Damon of House Marbrand. If I pass through and don't at least visit, it would reflect poorly on me."
The Mountain thought for a moment. "Very well, Lord Leo. We'll slow our pace and spend the night at Ashemark. I'll also extend an invitation to Lord Damon for the wedding."
"Perfect!" Lord Leo said with visible relief.
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An hour and a half later, just past midnight, the group arrived at Ashemark. The Mountain dismounted. Even on foot, he was nearly as tall as those still in the saddle. Lord Leo, familiar with the Marbrand family, rode up to the gates and called out loudly.
The centurion guarding the wall recognized his voice. The gates swung open, and the drawbridge lowered with a thunderous rumble. A soldier sprinted to the main keep to inform Lord Damon of Leo's late-night arrival.
Upon hearing the news, Damon rushed out to welcome his guest.
Outside, as Lord Leo prepared to cross the drawbridge, a large hand grabbed his reins.
"Wait a moment, My lord. Let him come out and greet us first."
It was the Mountain who had stopped him.
The Mountain stood with Leo in the center, flanked on all sides by his twenty-two Clegane men. Their torches were extinguished, one by one.
Leo was puzzled but didn't press the issue. "Very well, Ser. We'll wait for Lord Damon."
He assumed the Mountain just wanted a bit of ceremony, just as Leo had given him one when he entered Golden Tooth. The Mountain was a proud, domineering man. If this display fed his vanity, so be it.
Lord Damon soon arrived on horseback with a small escort. As soon as he reached the drawbridge, he spotted the Mountain's massive frame. Though the Mountain had dismounted to downplay his presence, his size was unmistakable.
A chill ran down Damon's spine. He instantly wheeled his horse around, intending to flee, but in that brief moment, the Mountain's greatsword was already drawn.
With a thunderous roar like a warhorse charging, the Mountain surged forward across the drawbridge, heading straight for Lord Damon.
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