Inside The Eyrie.
"Mother, I want to see the little man fly!"
"Tyrion Lannister, you murderer who harmed the young son of the Lord of Winterfell and killed my husband, your crimes are abhorrent to gods and men alike. Guards! Push him through the Moon Door!"
Lysa Tully was not in a good state; she was acting crazed, and even her voice trembled slightly. "Sweetrobin," sitting in her lap, had occasional involuntary twitches—a clear symptom of epilepsy.
"Hey, hey, hey! Is this how you conduct a trial? I never did any of these things. The Seven are above; don't we all believe in The Seven? Are you going to bypass the gods and act as a dictator yourself?"
At this critical juncture, Tyrion suddenly had a bright idea and invoked The Seven.
"Then tell me, how do you wish to plead?" Lysa Tully paused upon hearing the words "The Seven," and her tone softened; it seemed her faith in The Seven was quite firm.
"I demand a trial by combat!"
"Hahaha, you insidious, wicked Imp, how could anyone abandon their honor to die for someone like you!" Lysa Tully laughed, sparing no scorn for the dwarf.
"I promise here in the name of House Lannister, two thousand gold dragons to whoever fights for me!"
Tyrion held up the bulging purse in his hand, shaking it a few times so the clinking sound could be heard inside.
The knights present looked at the purse with gleaming eyes, subconsciously licking their lips.
Tyrion Lannister could see that this group was very tempted, so he smiled and upped the stakes.
"Three thousand gold dragons!"
"Four thousand gold dragons!"
Everyone's heart skipped a beat; four thousand gold dragons were enough for them to squander for ten years.
They were still hoping it might go higher. The knights of House Arryn in the Vale cared about honor and dared not react, but the mercenaries were already restless; they didn't care about honor at all.
"No one wants four thousand gold dragons? Then I, the Half-man, will just have to challenge you myself!"
"I'll do it!"
Just as Tyrion was feeling dejected, a voice rang out.
Tyrion turned to look. The man had black hair and black eyes, and his stubble was unkempt, as if he hadn't groomed himself in a long time.
He was not strongly built; in fact, he was a bit lean. Tyrion recognized him—his name was Bronn.
"Give me eight thousand, and I'll let you win." Bronn looked very confident.
"As long as you win, I'll give you ten thousand!"
"Good! That's straightforward enough!"
Tyrion Lannister looked at the man who had stepped forward and thought to himself: 'Hooked.'
In fact, Bronn was the main target of Tyrion's increased bounty. On the road while being escorted, Tyrion had already taken note of this mercenary who was driven solely by profit.
At the Crossroads Inn, Bronn and his companion Chiggen had responded to Catelyn's call to help escort Tyrion in exchange for payment.
When their party was attacked by the Hill Clansmen on the road, Bronn had saved his life, reasoning that he should at least let the chicken lay its eggs before it died.
Furthermore, when Bronn's companion Chiggen was shot in the abdomen with an arrow, Bronn had killed him without hesitation.
Because Bronn believed this guy would slow down the team's progress, and Tyrion knew he meant it slowed down the speed at which he could get his money.
From these two points, it was clear that Bronn had absolutely no sense of honor or justice; he only needed money. However, money was something Tyrion had plenty of.
"You have no honor!" Lysa Tully, realizing she had been slapped in the face, went straight to taunting.
"Lady Arryn, how much is honor worth? How about this: if you offer a higher price than this Imp, I'll become the honorable man you want me to be. How about that?"
Hearing this, Lysa Tully's expression stiffened, and she was left speechless, because the wealth of House Arryn in the Vale could not compare to that of House Lannister in the West.
"I hope you don't beg for mercy when you die. Ser Vardis Egen!"
Ser Vardis Egen was a knight from House Egen and the captain of the household guard at The Eyrie for House Arryn, similar to Jory Cassel in Winterfell or Janos Slynt in King's Landing.
He had an unremarkable face with a square, wide jaw, making him look upright. He was sturdily built, with short-cropped silver hair, and seemed like a capable man.
At this moment, hearing Lysa Tully's loud summons, he stepped forward. Compared to the mercenary Bronn's thin outer armor, this man was clearly armed to the teeth.
He wore a full suit of silver plate armor, with a hard helmet covering his entire face, leaving only his eyes exposed. He held a longsword in his right hand and a shield in his left, walking out from the group with steady, measured steps.
To show fairness, Ser Vardis Egen even tossed a shield to Bronn. However, Bronn just glanced at it and kicked it aside, shrugging to indicate he didn't need it.
"Combat begins!" With a command from the future Lord of The Eyrie, "Sweetrobin," the battle began!
Ser Vardis Egen initiated the attack first. He knew that while his armor was safe, it was too heavy and hindered large-scale movement.
The longsword slashed rapidly toward Bronn's neck; Bronn threw his upper body backward, narrowly dodging the blow.
It made Tyrion Lannister's heart tighten; if Bronn were killed, he would be doomed too.
Seeing his attack dodged, Ser Vardis Egen was not discouraged; he decisively advanced with his shield to compress the opponent's movement space.
Getting closer, he swung his sword again. Bronn hurriedly raised his sword to block, then used the momentum to move quickly behind a stone pillar.
These stone pillars had been built by the first Lord of The Eyrie and were carved with numerous emblems of soaring eagles, corresponding to the words of House Arryn: As High as Honor.
The pillars were arranged in a circle, looking majestic and solemn, but now they had become an obstacle to House Arryn's victory.
The longsword struck the stone pillars, clanging loudly and chipping off several fragments of stone.
Bronn adjusted his breathing, his eyes flickering, and retreated once more, jumping onto the banister of the stairs leading to the second floor. Before Bronn could catch his breath, Ser Vardis Egen's attack followed.
The longsword in his hand collided with the iron railing, sending sparks flying everywhere. The sparks splattered onto the knights and ladies watching the battle, eliciting gasps.
Catelyn Tully clasped her hands together, her eyes fixed on the two combatants. Having watched soldiers train in the North for many years, she could tell that the mercenary named Bronn was extremely skilled with a sword and understood others' attack patterns very well.
A quarter of an hour had passed. Although Ser Vardis Egen's attacks were swift and powerful, they had all been dodged by the cunning and agile mercenary Bronn.
Catelyn Tully was different from Lysa Tully. Catelyn did not want Tyrion to die here; she needed to keep Tyrion alive to avoid certain extreme outcomes.
For this reason, she had even had a big argument with her sister, the now-crazed Lysa Tully. And it was only after that argument that Catelyn realized these people all looked down on the mercenary Bronn's skills and martial prowess.
At this point, the weakness of full plate armor was exposed. Every time Ser Vardis Egen attacked, he had to gasp for breath, and his movements had become slower and clumsier compared to the beginning.
Sure enough, Bronn was about to start his counterattack.
Bronn's wolf-like gaze constantly scrutinized Ser Vardis Egen. Just as the opponent's offensive suddenly slowed and he was gasping for air, Bronn made his move.
Bronn moved with light steps, closing in quickly, and slashed his sword at the opponent. As Ser Vardis Egen hurriedly raised his sword to block, Bronn used the momentum to quickly parry his longsword aside, then turned and slashed at the gap in the joints of the opponent's thigh armor.
With a hiss, Ser Vardis Egen's left femoral artery ruptured instantly, and blood began to flow out continuously.
"Oh, no!"
"Ser Vardis Egen!"
Everyone present gasped in shock, for this Ser Vardis Egen was the captain of the household guard at The Eyrie, and his martial prowess was top-tier even in the Seven Kingdoms.
"Ser Vardis Egen! Don't waste any more time, kill him quickly!" Lysa Tully frowned; the situation was very unfavorable for her now.
Ser Vardis Egen glanced at Lysa Tully, then nodded, enduring the pain to continue advancing and attacking Bronn.
But his left leg was still bleeding, which caused his movements to become difficult.
Just as he was trading blows with Bronn, his left leg suddenly twitched, and his whole body stiffened involuntarily.
Bronn's eyes narrowed, and he pressed forward with his sword; he wouldn't let this golden opportunity slip by.
While swinging his sword, Bronn kicked hard at Ser Vardis Egen's injured left leg. Ser Vardis Egen, overcome by pain, felt his grip weaken involuntarily, and his longsword was knocked right out of his hand by Bronn.
Bronn smiled, for the outcome was decided; this ten thousand gold dragons was as good as his.
Then, with another kick, he knocked Ser Vardis Egen to the ground. Bronn grabbed him and pressed him directly onto the platform beside the Moon Door; he could even hear the fierce wind howling outside.
Ser Vardis Egen lay beside the Moon Door, half his face almost hanging over the edge. He had wanted to beg for mercy, but the words wouldn't come out.
Bronn looked at the people around him who were showing expressions of unbearable pity, then pulled Ser Vardis Egen up, listening to the long, drawn-out breaths of the crowd. Bronn licked his lips and raised his longsword high.
"No!"
"Spare him!"
"I beg you!"
Bronn ignored the people clamoring for him to spare Ser Vardis Egen. He looked up at Lysa Tully sitting on the high seat; at this moment, Lysa Tully no longer had her earlier arrogance.
She was opening her mouth, as if she also wanted to beg for mercy for her captain of the guard, but her lips trembled for a long time, and in the end, she didn't say anything.
Bronn smiled helplessly, as if feeling it was a pity for such a brave knight. Then, in full view of everyone, he brought his sword down.
With a hiss, the sharp longsword quickly pierced into Ser Vardis Egen's neck, running through from his neck down to his waist; blood sprayed out and flowed all over the floor.
Afterward, Bronn casually pushed the body into the open Moon Door. Watching the body fall from the great height, Bronn was unexpectedly silent for a long time.
'Is honor really that important?' he thought to himself.
The ladies watching covered their faces and wept, not daring to look any longer. Even the other knights of House Arryn lowered their heads, their faces showing sorrow; they didn't know if this might also be their own final fate.
Tyrion, all smiles, walked out clapping his hands and bowed slightly to Bronn to express his gratitude.
"You have absolutely no sense of honor!" Lysa Tully roared.
"He had it, so he lost his life." Bronn really didn't want to say anything more to this crazy woman, so he turned and walked towards Tyrion, or rather, Tyrion's coin purse.
As they prepared to leave with the detained House Lannister guards, "Sweet Robin," who was in Lysa Tully's arms, suddenly asked Tyrion a question with a puzzled expression.
"dwarf, why aren't you flying yet?"
"The dwarf is done flying; the dwarf is going home. Many thanks to all you lords and ladies for your warm hospitality these past few days. Tyrion Lannister will surely repay this in the future."
Tyrion straightened his clothes with his hands, then grinned and bowed deeply toward Lysa Tully and Catelyn Tully on the high dais.
With that, he turned and left.
...
The Vale, Mountains of the Moon.
"As everyone knows, my brother-in-law King Robert is quite the lecher. He is as generous with spreading his gold dragons as he is with spreading his seed."
Having left The Eyrie, Tyrion was in a great mood. He had finally managed to save his own life, and he chatted idly with Bronn along the way.
"If I were King Robert, I would definitely run to the brothel every single day. In my opinion, the wildflowers by the roadside are always more charming than the roses at home."
Bronn and Tyrion got along very well; both of them shared a unique sense of humor.
"Once we reach King's Landing, I'll have you living in a brothel every day."
"Not only will I live in a brothel every day, but I also want a different woman to keep me company daily. You know, women are just like water—essential. If I don't drink water for even a moment, I can't stand it."
"That is very true…"
However, as they passed by the foothills of the Mountains of the Moon, the attack came quietly.
Just as they were talking about how many girls Tyrion had been with, a few cold arrows suddenly shot out from the dense forest by the roadside, accurately hitting the thighs of several Lannister guards, knocking them to the ground and causing a chorus of wails.
Bronn was sharp-eyed and quick-handed; he immediately grabbed a shield and firmly shielded himself and Tyrion.
This Imp was his cash cow, after all; he couldn't just die halfway there. After three consecutive volleys of arrows, the assault finally slowed down and stopped.
"Hey, hey, hey! Bronn, move a bit this way! You must protect me well!"
"Alright, cash cow, you must protect your coin purse well!"
"Bronn, you are truly realistic. I want to know what will happen if I have no money in the future? Will you abandon me?"
"Of course not, little dwarf brother, at the very least I will dig a grave for you in advance."
"Well, thank you then. Remember to ask my brother Jaime to reimburse you for the tombstone."
"You're welcome, and remember to reimburse me for the wreath as well."
"Bronn, I'm serious. If one day someone really tries to bribe you to betray me, please remember: no matter how much they offer, I can afford to pay more."
Immediately after, a group of people charged out of the dense forest. Tyrion could only feel that these people were draped in animal skins, holding axes, and exuded an aura of savagery.
Tyrion remembered what he had read in a book; these people were the Hill Clansmen.
According to the records in the book: the Hill Clansmen is a collective term for the primitive tribes living at the foot of the Mountains of the Moon near the Vale. These clans were likely first formed thousands of years ago during the andals' invasion of the Vale.
Although they lost the war, the first men were still unwilling to submit to the andals, so they took their families and hid in the Mountains of the Moon. For thousands of years, they have continued to live and multiply in the mountains and forests, forming one settled clan after another.
However, precisely because of this, they have also inherited and preserved many traditions of the first men, which has many similarities to the wildlings north of the Wall—that is, wanton looting of the surroundings and refusing to be governed.
Thinking of this, Tyrion helplessly shook his large head and thought to himself: Why are they just like those ironborn on the Iron Islands?
There were both men and women among these people. They looked very poor, and the quality of their weapons and armor was very poor. The few people in the lead rode small horses and walked up to them, surrounded by the crowd.
Several people who looked like leaders chattered on endlessly. Tyrion tilted his head; he really couldn't understand what these people were saying.
The group on the other side seemed to realize the language barrier, so they collectively turned their gaze toward the back of the group.
Under Tyrion's puzzled gaze, a woman with tan skin, a hot body, and animal skins covering her vital parts walked out of the group. She didn't look very old, was quite pretty, and her large eyes flickered as if they could speak.
"We are the Stone Crow Tribe, the strongest among the Hill Clansmen. This is the leader of our Stone Crow Tribe, Shaga, son of Dolf; this is Gunthor, son of Gurn; this is..."
She spoke in broken Common Tongue while pointing out her leaders, and then, like reciting a menu, she pointed to her compatriots one by one and announced their names.
What was funny was that every time she read out someone's name, that person would immediately step forward and roar, giving Tyrion the feeling of watching a stage play actor making an entrance.
"Now we are preparing to kill you." I really don't know how this little girl could say such fierce words with a straight face and a cute appearance.
Upon seeing a beauty, Bronn's eyes went wide. He pretended to cough, then walked out slowly in a very flamboyant manner.
Tyrion looked at this guy in shock. This was a life-or-death situation, and you actually have the mood to flirt? But this girl really was quite good-looking.
Tyrion remembered that Larys of House Bracken, who had escorted him, once said: "On the road through the Mountains of the Moon to The Eyrie, those who attack them are either the Milk Snakes or the Moon People Tribe."
Now it seems it should be the Moon People Tribe, because back then the Moon People Tribe also claimed to be the strongest tribe among the Hill Clansmen.
Tyrion had a headache; this was just escaping the tiger's den only to enter the wolf's lair.
...
"May I ask what this beauty's name is?"
Perhaps the woman was annoyed by Bronn's affected manner, so she rolled her eyes and reluctantly spat out her name: Vada.
"Oh, so your name is Vada. What a lovely name."
"You also think the name Vada is nice, right? My mother gave it to me. My mother's name is even nicer; she was called Venda. Unfortunately, she died when she gave birth to me."
A little girl is a little girl after all, and she still couldn't resist the flattery of an old fox like Bronn.
"That is truly a pity."
Hearing the name Venda, Bronn felt a stir in his heart; he always felt he had heard this name somewhere before.
But he couldn't remember where he had heard it for the moment. After all, as a mercenary traveling north and south, who knows how many women named Venda he might have heard of.
"How about you come with me to King's Landing? It has high walls and tall towers." Bronn was a bit at a loss for words, but he still tried his best to describe it.
"Although I haven't seen much of the world, I am not a fool. You guy must have ill intentions. In our Stone Crow Tribe, those men will lure women to their houses to eat, but as long as the women follow them in, they get eaten, so you can't fool me!"
Vada was not old, but her voice was very mature. Added to her beautiful face and hot body, she instantly attracted Bronn deeply.
"Eaten? How do they eat them?"
"I don't know that, but they don't seem to have eaten the women. Instead, not long after, those women's bellies got big, and in the end, a child ran out from the belly. It's really strange. Was this child the one they ate that day? But those men didn't have big bellies. Could it be that they ate too little?"
Hearing this, Bronn's mouth split open with laughter; he almost rolled on the ground laughing. There was actually such an innocent girl in this world, and he must take her.
But just as Bronn smoothed his hair and prepared to say some sweet nothings, Tyrion walked out with a smile.
Tyrion had already understood the meaning behind her words just now. If they really wanted to kill them, there would be no need to say that. Now, saying they wanted to kill them was just to seek some benefits.
Tyrion smiled, pushed aside the posturing Bronn, and walked forward.
"Could you please translate what I say next to your leader?" After Vada nodded in confirmation, Tyrion began his performance. Do you know who I am? I am Tyrion Lannister, son of Tywin. This fierce warrior beside me is the famous Lion Chieftain Bronn of our Lannister Tribe!" Tyrion tried his best to imitate their tone.
"Our Lannister Tribe has plenty of money! If you can let us go, I will bring you a large batch of gold dragons as a reward! Remember, a Lannister always pays his debts!"
To ensure these people understood his meaning, Tyrion even specially threw a gold dragon to them.
After Shaga, the leader of the Stone Crow Tribe, took the gold dragon, he first took a bite, and then tilted his head. Tyrion seriously suspected that this guy's brain was not very good.
Shaga rode on his horse and chattered for a long time, then the pretty girl Vada translated for Tyrion: "Tyrion Lannister, son of Tywin, our leader says this thing is too hard and cannot be eaten at all, and asks you to change it for something else."
Tyrion widened his eyes. In this day and age, there are still people who don't recognize gold dragons? These guys are indeed primitive people.
"No, no, no, this thing is not for eating, this is currency. Currency, understand? This one gold dragon can be exchanged for many, many things to eat and wear. Can you understand?"
Vada chattered with the leader Shaga for a long time again. Shaga nodded. It seemed he understood this time, but Shaga did not make a decision immediately. He looked at the other tribal leaders around him and began to discuss with them.
Listening to Vada's introduction, Tyrion also understood. It turned out that the Hill Clansmen surrounding them belonged to four forces, or four tribes: the Black Ears, the Moon People Tribe, the Burned Men, and the Stone Crow Tribe.
Tyrion lowered his head, his one black and one green eye began to turn. If anyone knew him, they would know that Tyrion was cooking up some bad ideas again.
Sure enough, after thinking for a while, Tyrion spread his arms and shouted loudly to the crowd opposite: "OK, brothers, everyone look at me! I have an announcement to make!" After Vada translated the meaning, everyone gathered their eyes on him.