The Mountain of Ice and Fire

"Hush!" A light whistle came from above.

Peter Bolton calmly raised his head and saw a sentry on the treetop aiming a short crossbow at his upturned face.

Clang!

The four guards beside Peter Bolton immediately drew their long swords and held up their shields, while the two coachmen on the carriage, used to such sights, simply put their hands on their heads and squatted down in the standard position.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk!" A soldier came out from behind a tree, wearing his helmet askew and holding a short crossbow aimed at the four guards. "Impressive Northmen soldiers, four swords!"

One of the guards quickly stepped forward, blocking Peter Bolton, his long sword resting on top of his round shield in a defensive stance, his eyes staring at the soldier from under his iron mask.

With a rustling sound, more soldiers emerged from both sides of the road, all holding short crossbows, surrounding Peter Bolton and his party.

The four guards used their shields to protect Peter Bolton from all sides, but unfortunately, the short crossbows in the trees had become two. Their shields guarded the four directions, but they could not guard the sky above.

Mocking whistles sounded again from above, 'Hush, hush'.

The group was immediately at a disadvantage, vulnerable to being shot.

Peter Bolton was not old, and was a distant nephew of Roose Bolton. This time, he was sent by Roose Bolton as an envoy to cross the river and deliver gifts of peace to the Mountain. In name he was an envoy, but in reality he was there to scout out the Mountain's military strength.

Peter remained calm, his lips thin, his features ordinary, but with a sharpness in his eyes. He waved his hand to signal the four guards to put away their long swords and shields, and said calmly, "Which general's men are you, brothers?"

"Who are you?" A sergeant asked in return.

"My name is Peter Bolton, a vassal of General Roose Bolton. I am here on General Roose's orders to see the Mountain."

"What's in the carriage?"

"Inside are the gifts our general is sending to the Mountain."

"Open the carriage door," the sergeant said rudely.

"Yes." Although Peter was a knight, he did not argue with the low-ranking sergeant. He personally opened the carriage door, and in the middle of the carriage was a large box.

"Open the box!"

"Brother sergeant, this box contains gifts for the Mountain. It's not appropriate to open it here," Peter said calmly. Roose Bolton was Peter's idol, and he imitated Roose Bolton's soft-spoken, unhurried manner.

Whoosh!

The sergeant flicked his finger, and a short arrow flew out, hitting a guard's throat with a 'thud'.

The short crossbow's mechanism was powerful, and at such close range, it pierced the guard's neck armor and lodged in his throat. The guard's throat gurgled, his hands grabbed the arrow shaft, and his face was hidden under his mask, revealing only a pair of horrified eyes.

Blood leaked from the guard's neck armor.

He staggered and fell!

"Damn it, open it!" the sergeant shouted sharply.

It was said that the Mountain's men were all bandits and fierce generals, most of the soldiers were from rogue bandits, not nobles. These people were inherently cruel and killed without blinking an eye. Seeing them today, it was indeed true!

Peter Bolton paled as he opened the box. He could not yet remain nonchalant and unafraid of death when facing such fierce soldiers.

"Take everything out for me!" the sergeant waved his short crossbow, ordering Peter Bolton.

Peter Bolton had no choice but to do as he was told!

He suddenly realized that when dealing with the Mountain's people, rules such as not killing envoys between two armies were completely useless. These hooligans would kill people at the slightest disagreement.

*

Sir Peter Bolton took out a pure black sable fur cloak from the box. The fur was shiny and lustrous, and the chest was inlaid with a circle of green jade in the shape of a heart, and several blue gemstones were inlaid on the cuffs on both sides. Such a cloak was very precious and required killing many sables to weave. And a sable was very difficult to find, let alone many sables.

Such high-quality fur was a favorite of noble women.

Roose Bolton was a pragmatic general and would never bring such a women's cloak on a military campaign. This sable cloak came from Walder Frey's Twins. Walder Frey had many children, and his biggest job was to rack his brains to marry off the women in his family and marry in noble women from outside.

Walder Frey was very successful on the road of marriage. In his family, there was a Frey who married Tywin's sister, three daughters who married great nobles in the Riverlands, daughters who married ancient families in the Vale, and great nobles in the Stormlands and the Reach. Walder Frey had marriage alliances with them all.

Among the Seven Kingdoms, except for Dorne, the Iron Islands, and the North, Walder Frey had successful marriages between his children and the great nobles of the other countries.

When Walder Frey learned that the defeated Roose Bolton had lost his wife and was not yet married, Walder Frey told Roose Bolton that he wanted to marry his daughter or granddaughter to Roose Bolton. Roose Bolton had no interest in marrying a wife, but he was very interested in money, so Walder Frey told Roose Bolton that as long as he was willing to marry, he was willing to pay silver equal to the weight of the new wife.

So, in the Twins, Roose Bolton chose Walder's granddaughter Walda Frey, who weighed the most, as his wife. Walda Frey weighed more than two hundred pounds, which was in stark contrast to Roose Bolton.

And this sable fur was his new wife Walda Frey's dowry. Walder Frey had invested a lot of money in order to get married!

*

"What is this stuff?" the sergeant sneered. "How could our general wear a cloak like this?"

"This is a cloak for the Mountain's wife, Jeyne Westerling. It's very precious," Peter Bolton said.

"For the wife? What about something for our lord?"

"Yes, a beautiful Valyrian dagger, and a box of silver stags."

The silver stags that Roose Bolton sent to the Mountain came from three sources: soldiers' salaries; the knights who accompanied the army sharing the cost; and a portion from himself.

"Silver stags? Our lord only likes gold dragons! You're looking down on our Lord Mountain!"

The sergeant suddenly raised his hand, and a short arrow flew out, hitting a guard's chest with a 'thud'. Peter Bolton was shocked, and then heard 'thud, thud, thud'. The sergeant emptied the short arrows in the crossbow, and the guard was hit by several arrows in the chest. Although he was seriously injured due to the armor's defense, he did not die immediately.

The guard fell down, convulsing all over.

The other two guards were shocked. As soon as they moved, more than twenty short crossbows were aimed at them.

Peter Bolton was stunned!

He was clever and eloquent, which was why Roose Bolton sent him as an envoy.

"We are envoys," Peter said tremblingly. "You can't kill me. I want to see the Mountain."

"Are you sure you want to see my father?" A woman's voice, as cold as ice, came from afar.

The sound of horses' hooves rang out, and Julie Clegane appeared on the opposite hillside with a team of guards riding tall horses.

"Yes, General!" Peter Bolton quickly shouted loudly.

"Ironhide, have the coachmen drive the carriage over and kill the other two guards!" Julie said indifferently.

"No, General..." Peter Bolton was completely flustered. He thought that things would take a turn for the better when the other party's general appeared.

Generals were not bandits and should have some honor. Honor, honor, can't these people have any honor!

Thud thud thud! Thud thud thud!

More than twenty short crossbows fired at the same time, and short arrows shot at the two guards from all directions. The two sentries in the trees also pulled the triggers.

The two guards were instantly shot into hedgehogs.

Helmets, neck guards, chests, backs, arms, and legs were covered with short arrows.

Peter Bolton watched helplessly as the two guards fell, blood slowly flowing from the gaps in their armor.

Peter Bolton's body went weak, and he almost fell.

He couldn't believe such banditry!

They were envoys who had come to send money and gifts, but after the other party's general appeared and asked about the situation, she actually ordered them to be killed directly.

"Ironhide, tell the two coachmen not to be afraid. We won't kill the coachmen as long as they take good care of our horses and do their jobs well," Julie Clegane called out.

"Yes, General!" The sergeant replied with a grin.

The two coachmen were aware that they had escaped death and immediately put away the sable cloak, closed the silver stag box, and drove the carriage forward.

Peter Bolton couldn't believe it, his head was buzzing. In the eyes of the other party's female general, the coachmen who drove the carriage were more important than his four guards.

"General, you have no honor," the young Peter burst out in panic. "I want to see the Mountain. He is at least a lord. We are envoys, not enemies fighting on the battlefield."

"My father is the Mountain, a general," Julie said lightly. "Ironhide, if this general resists, kill him. If he cooperates, strip him of his weapons and armor, tie him up, send two soldiers to escort him back, and throw him into the dungeon under the Weeping Tower of Harrenhal."

"Yes, General!" The sergeant Ironhide looked at the horrified Peter Bolton with a grin. "General, are you prepared to die in battle to maintain your honor, or obediently be my prisoner?!"

Clang clang clang!

More than a dozen long swords were drawn and pointed at Peter Bolton, waiting for him to draw his sword or surrender!