The Mountain of Ice and Fire

Tyrion gently slipped away, careful not to wake her. Completely naked, he got out of bed and went behind the tent to relieve himself.

Bronn sat cross-legged under a chestnut tree near where the horses were tethered, wide awake and sharpening his sword.

"You're not sleeping, huh?" Tyrion asked as he urinated.

"I'm not a rich dwarf. I have to find my own women. How was yours?"

"Wonderful. Where did you find her?"

"I took her from some unlucky bloke who didn't want to give her up. Your name changed his mind… that, and my blade at his throat."

"Great," Tyrion said bitterly. "I seem to remember saying, ‘Find me a whore,’ not ‘Make me an enemy.’"

"The pretty ones get snapped up quick. If you want to swap her for some toothless hag, I'll gladly take her back. There's one with a nose covered in pustules, if you're interested."

Tyrion limped over and sat beside him. "If my father heard you talking like that, he'd accuse you of insolence and send you to the mines."

"You're not your father."

"What's the unlucky bastard's name? What unit is he in? I don't want him near me when we're fighting, or even in my vicinity."

Bronn rose abruptly, his movements as swift and graceful as a cat, twirling his sword in his hand. "Dwarf, I'll be right beside you when we're fighting."

"Being beside him won't help. You can't even protect yourself." A man's lazy voice drawled from the darkness. "Little Imp, tell your dog to kneel, or I'll shoot him dead right in front of you."

"Who's there?"

"The man whose woman your dog stole."

Bronn spun his sword. "Come out, boy. I warned you not to make trouble. Your sword draw is too slow. Who gave you the courage to come here?!"

"Is that so? Now it's my turn to warn you."

Thwack!

An arrow flew, hitting Bronn squarely in the waist. With a snap, the thin rope of his sword belt was severed, and the short sword and daggers on it clattered to the ground. Tyrion and Bronn were shocked. The man's archery was unbelievably good.

Tyrion called out, "Knight, show yourself. I think we can be friends."

"You better stay put, dwarf. I have no interest in Lannister gold."

"Friend, the friendship of House Lannister is worth more than gold."

"Dwarf, first have your dog kneel and apologize."

"Knight… who is your lord?"

"The Mountain!"

Tyrion's face changed.

The Mountain wasn't someone he could reason with. That brute only listened to one man: Tywin Lannister. And his father, Duke Tywin, loathed his whoring. He wouldn't dare let Duke Tywin know there was a whore in his tent.

Thwack!

Another arrow, as fast as a shooting star. Bronn had already begun to dodge, but he was still a step too slow. The arrow pierced his leather shoulder armor, but didn't wound his shoulder.

"Friend, if my arrow had been a little lower, your shoulder would have been pierced."

"Alright, knight, we acknowledge your skill. How many gold dragons will it take for you to accept our apology? Name your price." The naked Imp made an immediate decision. His father had taught him since childhood that there was no problem in the world that gold couldn't solve.

"Mercenary, my next arrow will take your hair." The archer hidden in the darkness was not tempted by Tyrion's gold. He spoke suddenly from another direction.

Thwack!

An arrow came swiftly, hitting Bronn's tied-up hair bun as he ducked. The arrow pierced the bun, carrying Bronn back several steps before the force of the arrow was spent. Bronn's entire scalp throbbed with pain.

Tyrion broke out in a cold sweat.

Bronn was also covered in cold sweat.

The opponent's archery was so divine, he could shoot wherever he wanted. In Bronn's mercenary career, this was the first time he'd encountered a truly tough customer.

"Gold and friendship, friend, you definitely won't regret it, I guarantee you," Tyrion said.

"Mercenary, my next arrow will take you down." Anguy's voice rang out again from another part of the darkness.

"No, no, no!" Tyrion waved his hands hastily, blocking Bronn. "Knight, if you don't stop, you might be in trouble. I am a Lannister, please understand that."

"Little Imp, then have your dog kneel and apologize!" A rough, mighty voice said from the darkness.

"The Mountain!" Tyrion's mouth was instantly filled with bitterness.

This guy didn't need a reason to kill, let alone this time when he had one.

Tyrion had a deep impression of his family's top dog. He knew the voice the moment he heard it.

"Ser Tyrion, long time no see!" A grinning voice said.

"Lothar of House Frey, known as 'Lothar the Lame'," Tyrion said with a wry smile. "Hello, long time no see."

"Ser Tyrion, what's wrong with you? I can barely see you!" A voice mocked.

"Dunsen the gaoler," Tyrion said. "I didn't expect you all to come."

"Anguy is my captain of archers, little imp," The Mountain's voice said indifferently. "Shae was the woman I paid for first, the head of the camp whores personally delivered her to his tent. In tonight's matter, your man was in the wrong first. Not only did he steal the person, he also held a knife to his throat. That action was too threatening. What do you think should be done about this matter?"

Tyrion's mouth was full of bitterness as he looked at Bronn. Bronn's face was hard, but clearly, he had no intention of kneeling and kowtowing.

"We apologize, The Mountain, and we'll give you more gold," Tyrion said.

There were many forms of apology. Tyrion didn't say he would make Bronn kneel and kowtow. Nor did he say he would return Shae.

Lothar the Lame and Dunsen the gaoler were originally two guards under Duke Tywin. Later, when The Mountain took charge of the duke's cavalry camp, Lothar and Dunsen became The Mountain's junior sergeants. The two ruthless men had stayed in Tyrion's Casterly Rock for many years. Tyrion knew how ruthless these two villains were. But no matter how fierce Dunsen and Lothar were, they were slaves of the Lannisters. He could still suppress these two with the name of Lannister, but with The Mountain, everything would be difficult to resolve.

The Mountain wouldn't kneel even when he saw King Robert. In the entire Westerlands, he only listened to one person: his father, Duke Tywin.

"Ser Tyrion, we don't dare touch you, but killing your dog is a minor matter. Mercenary, kneel and apologize to my brother Anguy, and we'll give you a quick death!" Dunsen laughed.

Clang!

The sound of a sword being drawn came.

"I'd like to kneel and kowtow, but the friend in my hand won't allow it," Bronn said coldly.

The Mountain sneered and slowly walked out of the darkness. A giant-like black shadow appeared, causing Bronn's eyes to widen involuntarily—it was the first time he had seen such a mighty and terrifying fellow. He looked up and saw a pair of terrible eyes shining brightly under the flat-topped giant helmet.

Bronn stared with his mouth agape, unable to close it!

How could a person grow to be so majestic and terrifying?!

The Mountain!—He really was a demon like a mountain.

The hilt of his giant sword on his back jutted out from his left shoulder. Bronn had never seen a sword hilt so wide and thick.

In Bronn's mercenary career, he had only heard of The Mountain. Seeing him in person, he immediately felt like an immature half-grown child, and the pressure came crashing down. The opponent's divine arrows had repeatedly avoided truly hurting him. He originally thought he could rely on the Lannisters and his own sword to be tough to the end, but the moment The Mountain appeared, Bronn's fighting spirit wavered!

Bronn glanced at the little imp, whose face had already collapsed!

The dwarf possessed the Lannister name, but The Mountain didn't give him any face.

"Kneel and apologize, or die!" The Mountain said coldly.