The Mountain of Ice and Fire

Ser Edmure Tully was singing ‘Bessa the Barmaid’ at the Crooked Tankard, a bawdy song favored by noble youths and popular among soldiers and mercenaries.

On the Red Fork road, a scout arrived at a breakneck pace.

Before the horse even reached the entrance of the Crooked Tankard, it was foaming at the mouth and suddenly buckled, throwing its rider from its back.

Boom!

The horse collapsed, foaming at the mouth, its legs convulsing, kicking up a cloud of dust.

The rider, skilled in horsemanship, rolled to his feet, his face and arms scraped and bloody. He wore no armor, not even a chainmail, to maintain maximum speed. He was dressed in light, simple clothes, his inner and outer garments soaked with sweat. He shouted, "Where is Ser Edmure?"

The man was from Riverrun, clearly a guard of Lord Hoster Tully. The silver trout, leaping, was embroidered on his coat and the decorations of his saddle.

The soldiers in the open space outside the Crooked Tankard did not dare to delay, and they said, "The lord is inside the hall, singing and drinking!"

The guard's face was flushed red, his hair soaked with sweat. The hot sweat on his face and neck streamed like water as he strode into the tavern, "Ser Edmure, the Mountain raided Riverrun last night, seized the main keep, and captured Lord Hoster Tully."

The smile on Edmure Tully's face abruptly turned rigid. He slammed his wine cup on the table, causing it to clatter loudly. The wine in the cup splashed onto the table and dripped to the floor, making a dripping sound.

The dozen or so noble youths in the hall were stunned. The singing, harp music, and the amorous chatter of the prostitutes all ceased abruptly.

Edmure stared at the scout who had come to deliver the message, without saying a word, but the meaning in his eyes was clear: he simply did not believe it.

Riverrun could absolutely not be breached by the Mountain's thirty men. Not thirty, not even three thousand could breach Riverrun.

"The Lord has fallen into the Mountain's hands, Riverrun is occupied, and the Mountain is forcing Maester Vyman to send word to the Westerlands. The limited information I know is that the letter requests Lord Tywin to order Ser Leo Lefford of the Golden Tooth to lead his army to the Riverlands to meet the Mountain."

Edmure's face began to contort, as if he had been punched hard.

"How is the Lord? Did the Mountain humiliate him?"

"The Mountain is very respectful to the Lord. The Lord and the nobles and knights of the city are feasting with the Mountain in the main keep's hall. The Mountain demands that you arrive at Riverrun by tomorrow morning to return all of his belongings, such as his saddle, armor, swords, and gold."

The fact that his father had not been humiliated was a great relief to Edmure.

Edmure was dissolute, but a dutiful son. Although Lord Hoster was dissatisfied with him, and he could not gain the Lord's appreciation no matter how hard he tried, his filial piety seemed to be his nature.

Edmure was a dutiful son, deemed undutiful by his father, Lord Hoster!

"The Mountain only made this much of a demand? To return his things?"

"He also wants you to kneel and apologize to him in front of the nobles and knights of Riverrun!"

Edmure did not say a word, but his friends saw him clench his fist.

"What if I don't apologize?"

"…I don't know…" The guard was a little at a loss. He probably hadn't expected Edmure to be so resolute.

What kind of person was the Mountain? He wouldn't hesitate to kill!

Although on the surface, the Lord, Maester Vyman, and a dozen nobles were all drinking and feasting with the Mountain, seemingly in harmony, in reality, the danger within was greater than a direct confrontation with swords and spears. Those nobles who were accompanying him could die for a single careless word!

Moreover, none of those nobles would have been willing to drink with the Mountain, but they had no choice, because Maester Vyman, in the name of Lord Hoster, had sent guards to invite them one by one. When they entered the hall and took their seats, the Mountain appeared. When they wanted to leave, they were told, 'Sorry, the doors are closed,' and dozens of the Mountain's men guarded the doors. These men were fierce and menacing, their armor gleaming, their swords shining. This armor and these swords were all equipment of the Lord's guards.

By holding the Lord hostage, he commanded the city's nobles to attend the banquet, gathering all the nobles of the city in the main keep's hall. These people were not guests for drinking; in fact, they were all the Mountain's hostages.

Without a doubt, this time, the Mountain wanted to play a big game!

And this game was the result of Edmure's own serious misjudgment of the Mountain's capabilities.

Edmure did not lose control, nor did he immediately jump on his horse and rush to Riverrun. His father and the nobles of the city had fallen into the Mountain's hands. Showing weakness was useless, because this was the Mountain.

"Ser Brynden Blackwood!"

"At your service!" Brynden Blackwood stood up immediately.

"Return to Raventree Hall at once, gather two thousand elite troops, and wait for my orders outside Riverrun's gates."

"Yes, Lord Edmure!" Brynden pushed away the prostitute beside him and strode out. Soon, the sound of hurried hooves rang out, receding into the distance.

Since the Mountain had sent ravens back to the Westerlands to summon reinforcements, he had to prepare for the worst. When dealing with people like the Mountain, you need to show your strength, not just kneel and beg! Kneeling without a strong front would only get you killed.

The Mountain was extremely fierce, but he also feared death. The struggle at the Crooked Tankard, where Edmure forced the Mountain to abandon his sword and armor, had already proven this!

Now that the Mountain controlled everything, Edmure knew it clearly, but he did not want to lose without even having a chance to fight back. Once the Mountain revealed a weakness, he would desperately need manpower. Gathering manpower was not about starting a war, but it would be foolish to discover that you didn't have enough manpower when you needed it!

Next, Edmure calmly issued orders. A dozen noble youths returned home to gather their family's elite troops, and he sent his trusted aides to notify the nobles near Riverrun to bring their troops to gather outside Riverrun. If Ser Leo Lefford of the Golden Tooth led his troops to arrive, he would find that the lords of the Riverlands were all waiting for his arrival.

Edmure did not know in which direction things would eventually develop, nor did he know what ending awaited him. He could only make the preparations that he thought were necessary to make first!

As for reporting to His Majesty the King at Harroway's Town to request assistance, he believed that he should at least talk to the Mountain before deciding whether to request the King's mediation.

After Edmure had completed all the arrangements, he mounted his horse and roared away with his cavalry. His infantry had left one step ahead of him and his cavalry.

*

The next morning.

Riverrun's main keep's hall.

Above the hall was a suspended second level, staggered in height with the hall below. On it was a high seat for the Lord, overlooking the entire hall. There was a rope attached to the chair, the end of the rope in the servants' room, with a bell hanging at the end.

The rope and bell were a new design after the Lord fell ill!

As Edmure Tully walked into the hall, he saw his father, Lord Hoster, on the high seat on the second level. Maester Vyman stood beside the Lord, along with four warriors in full armor, their hands on the hilts of their swords.

Although these four warriors wore the armor of the Lord's guards, they had four very fierce and unfamiliar faces.

The Mountain, on the other hand, was standing in the center of the hall, wearing a long robe that had become dirty. His figure was too tall and large, and he could not find clothes or armor suitable for him in Riverrun. However, he had found a weapon: two very heavy iron hammers, each weighing at least a hundred pounds. These iron hammers were decorative weapons used during festivals; ordinary people could not use them at all, finding it difficult even to lift them, let alone wield them.

The Mountain stood on the first level with two terrifyingly large iron hammers in his hands. His shoulders, head, and neck had already crossed the height of the second level, making him appear only slightly shorter than his father sitting on the second level.

The hall was originally a conference room, but now it had been turned into a place to entertain guests. Edmure glanced around the room. All the nobles of the city with any status were sitting at the conference tables, with all kinds of food piled in front of them: bread, roasted meat, all kinds of fruit wines and beers, but it seemed that no one had any appetite.

Behind these nobles stood more than twenty of the Mountain's brothers, their armor fine, their swords hanging at their waists, their gazes fierce, looking at people like nails, giving Edmure the feeling that they were a pack of wild beasts ready to pounce and bite!

"Ser Edmure has returned!" the Mountain shouted.

The Mountain's voice was extremely fierce, and this sudden outburst echoed throughout the hall.

The nobles in the hall and Edmure changed color.

The nobles changed color because they were afraid, and Edmure changed color because he was afraid that his father, Lord Hoster, would not be able to bear it.

As soon as he saw his father being held hostage by four wolfish Clegane bandits, Edmure felt a pang in his heart.

His father was sick!

His father must be holding on by drinking large amounts of poppy milk and dreamwine!

Thinking of this, Edmure felt a sharp pain in his heart!

He was worried that his father would not be able to withstand the Mountain's torment, and if he couldn't catch his breath… wouldn't he be no different from a kinslayer… All of this was caused by him.

Edmure didn't dare to think!

As soon as he saw his father, all the clever words that Edmure had planned on the way evaporated. He was too concerned and confused, and couldn't think of a single argument.

"Mountain, release my father, and name your terms!" Edmure heard himself say.

"Good, straightforward, Ser Edmure. I want a thousand top-quality warhorses!" the Mountain said calmly. He lowered the two huge iron hammers in his hands, and they landed on the floor of the hall with a loud boom.

Edmure's face immediately contorted slightly.

The Riverlands nobles in the hall were all terrified!

The Mountain said, "Ser Edmure, it's not that I'm greedy and want your warhorses. I really have a reason, I have no choice. My lord, Tywin, wants me to train five hundred Clegane cavalry, but Lord Tywin doesn't allocate military pay. But he issued a military order, and disobedience means death. Five hundred cavalry, two horses per person, is exactly a thousand, I didn't miscalculate, did I!"

"Fine, I'll give you a thousand good horses, but you must release my father first. He is sick and needs to rest."

"Don't worry, Maester Vyman has already taken care of the Lord's health, and I have also had a very deep conversation with the Lord. The Lord already knows that I am a reasonable person."

"Humph!"

"Lord Edmure, these thousand horses must be equipped with a thousand sets of good saddles, horseshoes, and reins, and you must first send the horses across the Red Fork and hand them over to the Clegane cavalry."

"Clegane cavalry?"

"Yes, last night I already asked Maester Vyman to send a second raven to Lord Tywin, asking Lord Tywin to notify my Clegane cavalry to come to the west bank of the Red Fork to receive a thousand warhorses. After my cavalry receives the warhorses, I will thank you, Ser, I guarantee you that!"

Edmure was still too young. Looking at his eager appearance, these thousand warhorses were just the Mountain's appetizer.

Thank you for the reward from Half Moon Gently Knocking on the Door, thank you, handshake!