Chapter 149 — We Surrender!
"Who are those people? Who would dare come here?"
"How should I know?"
In the ruined courtyard of the village, Arya crouched behind a collapsed mud wall with Weasel in her arms, staring strangely at the three riders moving leisurely through the morning mist.
But how could Gendry possibly know the answer?
Arya clearly realized she had asked a stupid question. She clicked her tongue and looked around again.
"Then where are Gregor Clegane and the others? Yesterday this place was packed with those damned monsters…"
Gendry responded only with a helpless expression.
"I'd like to know the answer to that too."
In truth, Gendry had been just as confused.
After the unlucky encounter two days ago when they ran into the Mountain's forces and were captured, they had been forced to march with the soldiers all day yesterday.
During that time, Yoren, badly wounded, had leaned on him for support the entire way.
Gendry had been exhausted.
He had fallen asleep early and hadn't even noticed it had rained during the night.
Only when the cold and hunger woke him did he realize water was dripping into the ruined house through the collapsed roof.
In the darkness he had dragged Yoren to a slightly drier spot.
At that time dawn was still far away.
The rain had been falling steadily, and the noise had masked everything else.
He hadn't realized that the once-bustling village had already become eerily quiet.
It was only after Yoren—knowing he would not survive the night—revealed Arry's secret that Gendry finally noticed the sky outside growing brighter.
And with that light came a chilling realization.
The village had gone silent.
Completely silent.
Gendry didn't know what had happened.
Nor did he dare step outside to investigate.
After all, he was responsible for three people:
A dying Night's Watchman.
A noble girl disguised as a common boy.
And a two-year-old child who had just lost her mother and would eat mud when she was hungry.
Only now did it occur to him that perhaps, overnight, the gods themselves had taken the lives of those violent soldiers.
But apparently the gods had taken more than just the Lannister men.
Gregor Clegane and his soldiers were gone.
Even the other prisoners who had been captured earlier than them seemed to have vanished.
So what had happened last night?
The pitch-black darkness.
The endless rain.
It was as if the world had been quietly reshaped.
A ragged street boy had turned into a noble lady from a castle.
The steady Night's Watchman who had led them out of King's Landing had become a cold corpse.
And the terrifying Lannister soldiers had disappeared completely.
If not for the gnawing hunger twisting his stomach, Gendry might have believed he was still dreaming.
He scratched at the damp mud wall in front of him and turned to look at Arya Stark.
"So… what do we do now?"
"Should we leave?"
Without realizing it, he had begun relying on Arya's judgment.
She was the daughter of a great noble house.
Surely she would know what to do.
Throughout their journey she had shown a strange confidence and fierceness that set her apart from the others.
People naturally trusted her.
Meanwhile Arya's mind, which had been overwhelmed by Yoren's death, slowly cooled as the cold wind brushed her face.
Watching the three riders passing in the distance, she instinctively tightened her grip on Weasel's wrist to keep the little girl from wandering off.
Then she crouched down again.
Pressing her lips together, Arya began analyzing the situation with sharp, alert eyes.
"The Mountain and his men are gone…"
"But did they abandon us on purpose?"
"Or did they simply forget about us?"
As she spoke, her gaze drifted to the village's only road.
After a night of rain, the path was covered with muddy footprints—human and animal alike.
The tracks stretched far into the distance, disappearing into the morning fog.
Judging only from the road, it did look as if Gregor Clegane had simply left them behind.
But why would the Mountain abandon them so suddenly?
And why had everything seemed so hurried?
What exactly had happened last night?
Arya frowned even deeper.
Even if Gregor had forgotten about them—
he shouldn't have been this careless.
Arya herself might not have been valuable.
But Gendry was strong.
And everyone knew he was a blacksmith capable of forging weapons and armor.
Only a complete fool would abandon such a prisoner.
Which meant there was only one reasonable explanation.
Something serious had happened to the Lannister force last night—
something so urgent that Gregor Clegane had been forced to leave immediately, abandoning everything behind.
Arya was still crouched behind the broken wall, deep in thought, when Gendry suddenly stiffened.
The three riders in the distance were getting closer.
And they were coming this way.
An uneasy thought flashed through his mind.
"I think we should leave. Immediately."
His voice suddenly became hurried as he tried clumsily to guide the girl beside him.
"The Lannister soldiers looked like they were retreating south. If that's true, we should take the chance to run. And I think we should keep heading north."
But Arya didn't even look at him.
She remained silent.
Instead, she turned her head and looked back toward the straw pile where the Night's Watchman still lay.
Yoren's body remained there.
His faded black cloak covered the corpse.
"But I want to bury him."
Arya's voice was stubborn and firm.
"I don't care where those Lannister soldiers went, or who they're running from."
"Before we leave… I'm burying him."
Her decision made Gendry even more anxious.
"But what if those soldiers didn't forget about us?" he protested.
"What if they just went out and will come back?"
As he spoke, he glanced again at the three approaching riders.
His thoughts tumbled out before he could stop them.
"If they come back and find us trying to escape, we'll never get away again. They might even kill us."
Arya merely snorted.
Her tone carried an unexpected confidence.
"Look around you."
"Who's going to care about us?"
"Gregor Clegane probably forgot about us already."
"Or maybe the King in the North drove them away, and they ran for their lives."
Somehow, a bit of cleverness had found its way into Arya's shaved little head.
And Gendry had to admit—
her argument almost made sense.
He ground his teeth anxiously, tearing a chunk of damp mud from the wall and squeezing it into a lump.
"Even if those Lannister soldiers were chased away by the King in the North… there could still be others!"
"Like Amory Lorch, who came in King Joffrey's name and ordered us to open the gates that night."
"Have you forgotten how many people he killed?!"
"And how can you be sure—"
Whoosh!
A feathered arrow suddenly shot out of nowhere.
It slammed into the wall barely a hand's breadth from Gendry's head.
The sudden arrow cut him off mid-sentence.
The arrowhead buried itself deep in the packed earth wall.
The shaft vibrated loudly beside his ear.
Clumps of dirt sprayed across his face.
Every word he had been about to say vanished from his mouth.
Gendry jerked his head back and shrank behind the wall, pointing at the arrow with trembling fingers.
"F-for example… like that."
His face twisted with a mixture of fear, anger, and frustration.
But one thing was certain.
He wasn't moving an inch.
Weasel screamed in terror and tried to run, but Arya grabbed her instantly and held her fast.
Just then—
from the direction of the riders—
a voice called out.
"Whoever's hiding there, come out."
"I've already seen you."
"Don't be afraid. We won't hurt you."
"We just want to ask a few questions."
The sound of hooves approached slowly through the morning mist.
Behind the wall, Arya and Gendry exchanged glances.
---
After packing their belongings and loading up their newly "acquired" supplies, Podrick Payne set out again with Jalabhar Xho and Sansa Stark.
From a prisoner he had interrogated the previous night, Podrick had learned much about what had been happening recently in the Riverlands.
The information matched his expectations.
Robb Stark, who had remained in Riverrun without launching an offensive, had finally marched out once Tywin Lannister left Harrenhal with his army.
Robb's forces were now pursuing Tywin southward.
Meanwhile, another Northern army had already crossed the Trident and was advancing south as well.
But Tywin's preparations before leaving had worked exactly as intended.
The Lannister soldiers and mercenaries he left behind in the Riverlands had become perfect bait.
They slowed Robb Stark's advance, forcing him to deal with them before continuing the pursuit.
Tywin had clearly anticipated their "sacrifice."
As expected, Robb Stark's army had been delayed across the Riverlands.
Tywin had not taken the time to properly organize his retreat.
Instead, he issued the order to withdraw from Harrenhal and marched south within just three days.
That meant the scattered Lannister forces across the Riverlands became obstacles blocking Robb's pursuit.
Robb had no choice but to deal with them.
If he ignored the raiders burning villages, the Riverlords supporting him would lose faith.
And if he recklessly pursued Tywin without clearing them out, Tywin might even turn around and trap him.
Robb Stark was not foolish enough to risk that.
So he was forced to put out fires across the Riverlands while continuing the chase.
During the interrogation, Podrick had also learned that a Northern force was currently stationed not far from here, near Gods Eye Lake.
Following that direction, however, he had instead discovered the route Gregor Clegane had taken during the attack the previous night.
And that route ended at a lonely, abandoned village.
Broken walls and collapsed houses showed it had suffered the same fate as many other war-torn settlements.
But to Podrick's surprise—
he spotted movement inside the village.
"There are still people here," Podrick said thoughtfully.
"But they don't look like Clegane's soldiers."
"Let's go take a look."
After only two seconds of consideration, he decided to investigate.
Neither Sansa nor Jalabhar objected.
In fact, both were curious why anyone remained in a village that had clearly served as Gregor Clegane's camp the previous night.
But before they had even approached the village, Podrick reached out and took Jalabhar's gilded bow.
He nocked an arrow.
Drew the string.
Aimed roughly.
Then released.
The arrow struck the wall of a half-collapsed house.
Both Sansa and Jalabhar saw something move behind it.
Podrick handed the bow back calmly.
Then raised his voice and shouted:
"Whoever's hiding there, come out."
"I've already seen you."
"Don't be afraid. We won't hurt you."
"We just want to ask a few questions."
Seeing the puzzled looks on Sansa and Jalabhar's faces, Podrick smiled faintly.
"They're not enemies."
"Probably villagers… or prisoners Gregor Clegane left behind."
---
Behind the wall, Gendry stared at the arrow trembling in the dirt.
"What do we do?!"
"They have bows!"
He gripped his knife tightly.
Arya glanced at the arrow embedded in the wall.
After the beating she had taken two days earlier, she now understood very clearly that water dancers could indeed be knocked down.
She let out a bitter laugh.
"If you're thinking of charging someone who can shoot like that with your rusty knife…"
"I'd suggest using it to cut your own throat instead."
Gendry stared at her.
"You mean—"
Arya only smiled.
Then suddenly she raised one hand and stood up from behind the wall.
Taking a deep breath, she shouted toward the riders.
"We surrender!"
"My lord, we surrender!"
"We're no threat—just poor farmers from this village!"