Outside Stone Hedge, a force flying a yellow banner embroidered with three hunting hounds was in the middle of building a camp.
It was said that the Clegane family had originally been kennelmasters to House Lannister. Because they once saved the life of an old duke, House Lannister granted them a fief, and from that moment on they leapt into the ranks of landed knightly houses.
By the present day, Gregor Clegane had become the head of the family.
People called him: the Hypocritical Knight, Lord Tywin's Angry Dog.
But no one could deny that in this kingdom, there was no other knight who could inspire such terror among his enemies.
Staring at Stone Hedge, so close it was almost within arm's reach, the Mountain did not rush to attack. Instead, he ordered the army to set up camp first.
However, his men were hardly idle. Everyone had their own task to complete.
The dwarf nicknamed "Ledger" was one of the most diligent among them.
He was the Mountain's man responsible for interrogation and punishment within the army. It was said that no one could remain silent before him—whatever he extracted had to fill an entire ledger.
At this moment, his ornate clothes were stained with dried blood. In his hand was a grotesque-looking instrument of torture, and his face was twisted in a feral grin.
Opposite him was a nameless villager, his body covered in blood, his consciousness already fading.
"Is there gold hidden in the village? What about silver and jewels? Stored grain?"
"Where is Lord Beric Dondarrion? Which villagers helped him? What kind of banner were they carrying? Where did they go?"
"Is there gold hidden in the village? Silver and jewels?"
"Where is Lord Beric Dondarrion? How many men does he have with him? Where did they go—are you going to talk or not?"
Ledger repeated himself over and over, tireless. Each time he spoke, he brought down the instrument in his hand upon the poor wretch.
The farmer's limbs no longer had a single intact spot. Flesh and blood were mashed together into a mess, impossible to tell what belonged where.
Every time the villager was about to pass out, Ledger would increase the punishment, then splash him with icy river water.
Watching from the side, "Sweetmouth" Raff looked puzzled. "You've already gotten everything you wanted, haven't you? Why keep torturing him?"
Raff's nickname, "Sweetmouth," came from his shrill, high-pitched voice. Over time, it simply stuck.
Ledger withdrew his tool, a satisfied expression appearing on his face.
"It's to keep my touch," he explained. "We're about to take Stone Hedge. There'll be plenty of nobles waiting for me to question. No one stays silent in front of me, right? I can't let my golden reputation slip through my fingers."
Sweetmouth Raff looked equally expectant. "I hear House Bracken is really good at producing daughters—and they're all quite pretty too."
Ledger looked at him with disgust. "Is there nothing in your heads but women?"
"Aren't you the same?" Raff sneered. "You forgot already? When we passed that tavern, Poliver took a fancy to the innkeeper's daughter. We killed the whole family, then did a few things we liked."
Ledger complained, "Yeah, and after that we had to roast the meat ourselves. That stuff wasn't fit for human consumption."
Sweetmouth Raff let out a cold laugh. "Right, you say that like you didn't take part. When the Mountain was going at it, you were right there holding his legs."
"Hey, I just didn't want to seem unsociable!"
Woooo—!
As the two laughed and chatted, the sound of a horn suddenly rang out from outside.
They knew that sound all too well—it was the Mountain's call, summoning his men to prepare for battle.
"Why so sudden? Didn't the Mountain say we'd wait a few days before attacking the city?"
"Who knows? Probably something changed."
Ledger and Sweetmouth Raff exchanged a glance. They dropped what they were holding, straightened their armor, and ran toward where the Mountain was.
"Baby, we'll continue when I get back."
Ledger ran out of the tent, then suddenly doubled back, gently reminding the captive tied to the chair.
In the end, only the captured farmer remained in the room. All he could do was tremble.
——
Outside Stone Hedge, the Mountain's army was now in complete chaos, everyone scrambling in confusion.
Soldiers wore their armor crookedly, struggling to form up into units. The scene was utterly disorderly.
From the city walls, the defenders of Stone Hedge could see everything clearly. Even someone with no military knowledge at all would know that this was the perfect moment to sally out and shatter the enemy.
Yet the gates of Stone Hedge remained tightly shut. No one dared to come out.
Because at the very front of the enemy formation, a giant like a small mountain was donning his armor.
"Hurry, hurry! Have you found the Mountain's armor yet?"
"Get it over here—help the Mountain put it on!"
"The sword! Where's the Mountain's sword?"
As one of the Mountain's closer subordinates, Ledger had another duty: helping the Mountain don his battle armor.
The Mountain stood eight feet tall, a little over two and a half meters, with broad shoulders and arms as thick as tree branches. Naturally, his weapons were nothing like those of ordinary men.
His armor was divided into four parts, each handled by a trusted aide. As for his greatsword, the massive two-handed blade looked as light and effortless in his hands as a one-handed sword in the hands of a normal man.
After Ledger, Sweetmouth Raff, and the others finished helping him into his armor, the Mountain gripped a knight's lance in one hand and the greatsword in the other. His voice rumbled low.
"Charge."
Ledger and Sweetmouth Raff exchanged a strange look. Why the rush? They hadn't even brought up the siege equipment—he was charging straight in?
In truth, many men still weren't ready. But once the Mountain gave the order, everyone could only mount up, grab their weapons, and howl as they launched the attack on Stone Hedge.
"Kill!"
"Kill!"
The Mountain rode at the very front. He wore a massive flat-topped helm, with only breathing holes for his mouth and nose, and a narrow slit near the eyes for vision. Atop the helm was a stone fist pointing straight at the sky.
His body was encased in impossibly heavy plate armor—so heavy that an ordinary man couldn't even lift it, let alone wear it.
Under such protection, when scattered arrows flew toward him, the Mountain didn't even bother to dodge. The only fate awaiting those arrows was to be knocked aside.
The defenders on the walls watched as the terrifying, gigantic figure drew closer and closer. Despair spread across their faces.
The Mountain's army far outnumbered the defenders of Stone Hedge. Most of the elite troops had been taken away by Lord Bracken, leaving behind only substitutes with poor combat ability.
At the sight of that enormous figure, fear surged uncontrollably in their hearts. Some were almost ready to flee.
Only a handful still retained their composure, drawing their bows to fire at the enemy.
Hendry Bracken climbed onto the wall in full armor. Seeing the plummeting morale, his heart tightened in panic.
If this kept up, forget fighting—these men might very well tie him and his sisters up themselves and hand them over to the rampaging Mountain.
"Attack! Don't be afraid! The Mountain is still a man!" "Think of your families inside Stone Hedge!"
"There is no road of surrender for us to choose! Think of the villages the Mountain burned—are you willing to let your wives, your daughters, be treated that way?"
"We cannot be afraid! Fight for yourselves, fight for your families!"
"Reinforcements are on the way! As long as we hold out a little longer, they'll arrive—we'll be saved soon!"
Hearing this, Harry Rivers, who had just climbed up onto the battlements, looked surprised. He grabbed Hendry Bracken's armor and asked in a low voice, "What reinforcements? How come I don't know anything about them?"
Hendry Bracken snapped back in fury, "How the hell would I know about any reinforcements?! But if I don't say that, they're going to run!"
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...
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Here are a few fan-fic titles that I've recently uploaded on my Patreon:
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(End Chapter)