The Mountain of Ice and Fire

Amory Lorch charged ahead, the first to rush into the village.

The smoke was his guide.

It came from three houses in the village center and one at the village's end.

Amory Lorch chose the one furthest away, at the village's end.

The sound of hooves thundered through the village as dozens of cavalrymen charged into the large settlement.

Several riders at the rear of the group stopped at the village entrance and began setting houses on fire.

One rider, humming the song 'The Bear and the Maiden Fair,' pulled out flint and tinder, dismounted, kicked open the half-closed door of a wood shed, and saw a boy with a youthful face but a noble air, dressed in expensive clothes, watching him with a relaxed smile.

The boy had long, platinum blonde hair, deep blue, almost purple eyes, wore fine armor, a longsword at his hip, and held a delicately crafted short crossbow.

The rider froze!

The armor alone, along with the boy's bearing, suggested he was no ordinary person, but certainly from a great noble house.

The rider couldn't discern the boy's house sigil on his armor or clothing.

"Shhh!" the boy hissed, and with a crisp click, a bolt flew from the crossbow, hitting the rider squarely in the chest.

As the rider stumbled backward, the boy nimbly leaped from the wood shed, snatched the rider's side, his longsword already drawn, his movements fluid, as if he'd been trained in swordsmanship since he could walk; the cold light flashed as the blade fell on the rider's neck, and blood sprayed.

Several other riders, in the process of setting fire to other houses, heard the commotion and rushed out, only to find the boy already mounted on the horse of the man he'd killed, short crossbow in hand, urging the horse forward, pulling the trigger; with a soft thud, another rider fell, unable to dodge.

The riders kicking open doors to set fires were all dismounted, leaving their horses outside.

In the blink of an eye, the boy had killed two men; his face still held a youthful innocence, but his eyes blazed with intensity as he fired bolt after bolt from his crossbow, forcing the remaining riders back into the houses.

Then, several short, sharp sounds of clashing steel rang out from within the houses, followed by screams.

Moments later, several men burst from the houses, seizing the riders' horses, blood dripping from their longswords, and lined up next to the boy.

Including the boy, there were six of them; the other five wore armor and helmets, armed with longswords and short blades; one was even a longbowman, a longbow slung across his back, a quiver at his waist—clearly not common bandits, nor vagrant brigands.

Amory Lorch, charging ahead, was unaware of the events at the village entrance, leaving the three smoking houses in the village center to his brothers to plunder and kill, while he led his three guards straight toward the house at the village's end.

The house at the village's end had a courtyard enclosed by a square, man-high wall of earth; Amory Lorch approached from the north, unaware that two longbowmen were crouching behind the western wall.

Amory Lorch rode his warhorse straight through the flimsy wooden gate, bursting into the courtyard.

The two longbowmen immediately appeared on the western wall, drawing their bows and releasing arrows, both aimed at Amory Lorch.

Amory Lorch's three guards, lagging slightly behind him, saw the longbowmen appear and shouted warnings, but the two archers calmly aimed their heavy arrows at Amory Lorch; as soon as the arrows were released, they turned and fled.

Caught off guard, Amory Lorch yanked on the reins, causing his horse to rear up; with a thud, an arrow pierced the horse's neck, and another struck its body.

The horse screamed, throwing Amory Lorch to the ground, then collapsing on top of him; Amory Lorch was horrified and rolled away, but his armor slowed him down, and the horse fell, landing squarely on Amory's back with a deafening crash.

A massive force slammed into Amory Lorch's back, driving him hard into the ground.

Behind him, a dozen riders galloped up, circling around the wall in pursuit of the fleeing archers.

The three guard riders quickly dismounted to help their lord, Ser Amory Lorch, who gasped, "Don't move me, let me recover."

His back felt as if he'd been struck by a powerful fist; a metallic taste filled his mouth, and a tremor ran through his body as he spat out a mouthful of blood.

The riders who had circled around the west wall saw the two longbowmen fleeing the village, heading towards two tall, sturdy warhorses tethered to trees at the village's edge.

The riders roared in fury, spurring their horses onward, swords raised, giving chase.

Suddenly, a horse screamed, and the rider was thrown from its back, flailing wildly in the air, as the horse pitched forward; a rope had been strung across the road, tied to two large trees.

The first horse crashed to the ground, followed by the second and third, until the fourth horse barely managed to stop at the tripwire, only to be sent sprawling as the riders behind crashed into it, sending men flying and horses tumbling.

Crash! Crash! Crash!

Three riders fell from the air, suffering broken bones and concussions.

Two figures emerged from behind the trees on either side of the road, raising their swords and striking, each blow aimed at the head and throat, killing the three men instantly.

The riders behind had no time to help; they realized that the tripwire wasn't just one rope, but a dozen, impossible to leap over on horseback.

The road through the village was lined with large, leafy trees, and a dozen tripwires had been strung across the path.

The two longbowmen stopped, nocked arrows, and fired, the first arrow felling a rider who had just managed to stand, the second striking a horse in the head.

The horse screamed, crashing to the ground, pinning a rider's leg beneath it, the broken bone piercing his skin; the rider screamed, then lost consciousness.

As dusk fell, the two longbowmen calmly fired arrows from behind the tripwires, covering the retreat of their two companions, who untied the warhorses from the trees; the four men, with two horses, retreated, firing arrows as they went; after turning a corner on a village path, they disappeared from sight as the riders dismounted to hack through the tripwires.

Meanwhile, the riders who had stormed into the three smoking houses were ambushed by a dozen men, one of whom wielded a flaming sword, proving unstoppable, driving them from the houses into the courtyard, the flaming sword sending the horses into a terrified stampede.

On the other side, a young general, his shield emblazoned with a purple lightning bolt, displayed remarkable swordsmanship, leading his men to kill the four riders who had kicked down doors to start fires; he led seven or eight men to join the flaming sword general, and together they charged the remaining riders, sending them fleeing.

The flaming sword general was none other than the infamous, ale-loving, womanizing Red Priest Thoros of Myr.

The young general with the purple lightning bolt on his shield was Lord Beric Dondarrion, Lord of Blackhaven, from the Stormlands.

And the youthful boy at the village entrance was Edric Dayne, squire to Beric Dondarrion, from Starfall in Dorne; only twelve years old, he had been with Beric Dondarrion for seven years.

House Dayne had produced one of the most renowned swordsmen in the Seven Kingdoms: Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning; Arthur was an idol to Jaime Lannister and revered by Ser Barristan Selmy; in his lifetime, he had been a brother of the Kingsguard alongside Jaime and Barristan.

Arthur had two sisters, one the famously beautiful Ashara, and the other, Allyria.

Ashara had been the dream of Barristan Selmy and the love of Eddard Stark's youth; after her suicide, Barristan closed his heart off to all women.

Arthur's other sister, Allyria Dayne, was betrothed to Beric Dondarrion; after the betrothal, Allyria moved to Blackhaven, and her five-year-old nephew, Edric, went with her, staying with Beric Dondarrion, learning to read, write, and fight for seven years, becoming Beric's squire.

Although Thoros of Myr and Beric Dondarrion had won a major victory over Ser Amory Lorch, they dared not press their advantage; they cut their losses, scaled the walls of the village, and retreated westward.

Amory's other brothers were setting fires nearby, and would quickly arrive once they heard what had happened; furthermore, the Mountain was not far from the God's Eye; Beric and Thoros had less than thirty men and only a few horses; if they lingered, they would be easily caught and wiped out.

Amory retreated from the village, the sky already dark; he lit torches and counted his losses: more than twenty brothers dead, six horses stolen, and several warhorses killed, including his own.

Amory ordered the village to be set ablaze; this time there were no ambushes; he sent scouts to recall the infantry and set up camp outside the village; he also sent word for the Mountain to join them to discuss how to eliminate the Red Priest and Beric Dondarrion, who had suddenly appeared.

Unless something had changed in King's Landing, why would Thoros of Myr, who served in the Red Keep, and Lord Beric suddenly appear here? Amory was thankful that he had escaped with his life; Thoros and Beric had been lying in ambush in the middle of the village, expecting Amory to storm the three houses with smoke rising from them; instead, Amory had targeted the house at the village's end.

Amory had feared that the villagers cooking at the village's end would hear the sounds of slaughter and escape, so he decided to intercept them first; this twist of fate had saved Ser Amory's life.

Amory realized that if he had encountered Thoros and Beric's ambush alone, he would have had a hard time escaping; the Red Priest and Beric were each hiding in ambush, with seven or eight men in each house, their target to kill Amory; if Amory had split his forces between the village entrance, the center, and the end, he would have found it difficult to escape the blades of the Red Priest and Beric.

Amory pondered the evening's battle in his tent; he knew that the Red Priest wielding the flaming sword was a monster! And Beric's swordsmanship was formidable; in the Tourney of the Hand in King's Landing, both the Red Priest and Beric had distinguished themselves; the Red Priest had often won the championship in tourneys, while Amory was usually eliminated in the first round.

The Mountain, on the other side of the God's Eye, was shocked when he received Amory's message.

A month ago, Beric and Thoros, on the orders of Eddard Stark, had brought troops to the Riverlands to apprehend Amory Lorch; the Mountain had ambushed them, captured them, and brought them back to the Red Keep in King's Landing; to stabilize the political situation, the Mountain had suggested that Cersei reinstate Beric and Thoros to their former positions; Cersei had agreed, and King Joffrey had announced their reinstatement in the throne room.

How could they suddenly appear in a village near the God's Eye and ambush Amory Lorch, after the Mountain had left the Red Keep for only a short time?

Was the world returning to the path the Mountain knew?

In the timeline before his transmigration, Thoros and Beric had become bandits in the Riverlands, forming the Brotherhood Without Banners, harassing the Westerlands army, destroying their supply lines, and killing their soldiers; Beric was known as the Lightning Lord, protecting the common folk from harm, paying for any food, cloth, and ale they needed, and giving them IOUs when he ran out of money.

But the Mountain had captured Thoros and Beric and brought them back to the Red Keep, changing their fate; for some reason, Thoros and Beric seemed to have returned to their original destiny.

What had Joffrey done in King's Landing? Had he forced Thoros and Beric to return to the Riverlands and wage a guerrilla war against the Westerlands army? If Beric had been oppressed or humiliated by Joffrey, why didn't he return to his seat in the Stormlands, Blackhaven? As Lord of Blackhaven, Beric could have immediately raised an army of thousands, joining Renly at Storm's End, who had declared himself king, or Stannis at Dragonstone.

The Mountain arrived with hundreds of men to join Amory.

Amory looked unwell, as if he were sick; his cavalry had suffered heavy losses; each soldier and horse had cost him a fortune; before this force could earn him any real money, it had been ambushed by Thoros and Beric and crippled.

"The Red Priest Thoros of Myr and Beric are here," Ser Amory said, his tone betraying his dissatisfaction with the Mountain; the Mountain had captured these two men, so why hadn't he killed them?

"They are courtiers of King Joffrey," the Mountain said, "They have no reason to be here."

"I have asked my men, and they are certain that the bald priest wielding the flaming sword was Thoros, and he was wearing a red robe."

Thoros was well-known among the soldiers of the Westerlands; every veteran had heard of him, and most recognized him.

Ten years ago, Balon Greyjoy of the Iron Islands had rebelled, and Robert and Eddard had led an army to attack the Iron Islands; the Westerlands had also sent troops, and Thoros was the first general to scale the walls of Pyke.

Later, to celebrate the victory, the king had held a tourney at Lannisport in the Westerlands; in that tourney, Jorah Mormont of Bear Island in the North had met Lynesse Hightower and fallen madly in love with her; Jorah had won an almost impossible victory to win the favor of Lynesse Hightower and crowned her Queen of Love and Beauty.

The glory of Jorah's victory was overshadowed by Thoros's performance in the melee; Thoros's flaming sword had astonished the crowd and earned him a famous reputation among the soldiers of the Westerlands; as a result, the veterans of the Westerlands recognized Thoros and his flaming sword.

"The Mountain, Thoros, and Beric killed half my riders. I must have my revenge. This is an act of treason, and it happened on my lands at Harrenhal. We have to take them down."

"What do you intend to do?"

"They are mortal men, not elves. They will tire, they will hunger, they will grow weary and sleep. If we pursue them through the night with our riders, we are sure to catch them!" Amory’s eyes gleamed.

"Good!" The Mountain agreed readily.