The Mountain of Ice and Fire

“It's been nine years since the Long Summer, indeed, winter is coming.” Eddard's expression was as cold as frozen earth.

“It's the White Walkers, my lord, the White Walkers are coming.”

Eddard looked at the Mountain with a playful gaze.

“Before coming to King's Landing, my lord personally beheaded a Night's Watch deserter at the execution tree outside the Wolfswood. His name was Will, from Sea Guard in the Riverlands. He was a thief, and also a very experienced Night's Watch ranger.”

Eddard's eyes widened, his beard and eyebrows bristling.

This was within the Mountain's expectations.

The Mountain was in the Westerlands and had absolutely no reason to know about this.

“He was caught by your lordship's free riders in the Wolfswood. In your lordship's eyes, he was just a rambling coward, neurotic. Did he tell your lordship that he saw White Walkers?”

Eddard was completely speechless!

*

Before him appeared a small hill, and on the hill was a manor. But it wasn't a manor; it was the Stark family's execution ground. There was a hollow in the middle of the black execution tree, the place where the condemned placed their necks. The execution tree wasn't actually black, but rather the blood of prisoners year after year had soaked into it, eventually turning the massive execution tree into a black color with a metallic stench.

Standing in front of the execution tree was an old man—though he wasn't actually that old—gaunt and withered, not much taller than Robb, his hands tightly bound behind him. He had lost his ears to frostbite in the bitter cold. His clothes, all black, were identical to the uniforms of the Night's Watch brothers, only tattered and covered in sores.

Eddard ordered the prisoner to be unbound. Every breath people took formed a white mist at their noses; it was truly too cold. Eddard glanced at the children: Robb and Jon sat ramrod straight, proudly astride their saddles; Bran, on the other hand, rode a small pony between them. It was Bran's first time watching an execution, and he was trying hard to show a maturity beyond his seven years. A breeze blew through the gate, and above them, the Stark family banner of Winterfell fluttered, depicting a direwolf running across a field of ice.

Eddard Stark removed his glove, and his ward, Theon Greyjoy, immediately handed him the greatsword. The sword was named “Ice,” the ancestral sword of House Stark, wider than a palm and taller than Robb when stood upright. The blade was forged from Valyrian steel, imbued with magic, and as dark as smoke. Nothing in the world was sharper than Valyrian steel.

Eddard held the sword with both hands and said, “Before your execution, deserter, do you have any last words?”

“My lord, I am not a coward. I am from Sea Guard. I have an older brother and sister. If possible, please tell my family that I did not shame the family's honor because of cowardice. I saw the White Walkers, really. They killed my companions. I'm not lying, my lord, they are coming, the White Walkers are coming.”

No one believed the deserter's words, including Eddard himself. A person on the verge of death, because of fear, simply wouldn't know what they were saying.

Eddard refused to listen to the poor deserter's ravings any longer. He proclaimed loudly, “In the name of Robert of House Baratheon, First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, I, Eddard of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, sentence you to die.” With that, he raised the greatsword high above his head.

The deserter placed his neck on the execution tree, muttering, “White Walkers, the White Walkers are coming, run, everyone run… go south… the White Walkers are coming…”

Clang!

The greatsword Ice fell, the deserter's head landing and rolling to Theon Greyjoy's feet. Theon kicked the head far away. Eddard noticed that Theon's actions greatly displeased Jon Snow.

*

The Mountain stared at Eddard's face, as cold as the frozen earth of the North, and slowly said, “The White Walkers that Will spoke of are the Others. He personally saw the White Walkers and was so frightened that he deserted the Wall. The three of them went out on patrol. The commanding officer was named Ser Waymar Royce, seventeen years old, the youngest son of Bronze Yohn of the Vale. Because he refused to compete with his brothers for land and inheritance, he volunteered to join the Night's Watch at the Wall.”

“A veteran named Gared, who had been at the Wall for forty years, was the most experienced ranger. And a ranger named Will, who had served at the Wall for four years and was unparalleled in stealth. The three were ordered to enter the haunted forest. Waymar and Gared were killed by the White Walkers. Will was so frightened that he crossed the Wall and fled south. He should have returned to report to Lord Commander Mormont, but he didn't. He was terrified, my lord.”

Eddard swallowed hard. He remembered that the deserter's name seemed to be Will, and that the fellow kept talking about White Walkers, White Walkers.

Gared? Waymar? Will didn't mention those two names before he died.

“Your lordship caught Will, and Will told your lordship that he saw White Walkers, but your lordship didn't believe him, just as your lordship doesn't want to believe the Mountain now. Winter is coming, my lord! The White Walkers are coming. If they break through the Wall, the first to be slaughtered will be the people of House Stark. Why was the Wall built? Think about it, why build a wall a thousand miles long?”

The Mountain paused, carefully scrutinizing Eddard's facial expression: “The Wall wasn't originally built to keep out the wildlings from the south. Then what did the Wall want to block? My guess is that Brandon the Builder must have written the secret into the family records, but eight thousand years have passed, and that secret eventually evolved into a family motto, and now only a proverb remains: Winter is coming!”

“How do you know the White Walkers are coming?” Eddard stared at the Mountain, his eyes filled with doubt and suspicion.

He didn't know that Will, Gared, and Waymar Royce patrolled the haunted forest together. The frightened 'old man' couldn't answer many questions clearly, the only thing he repeated was White Walkers, White Walkers, White Walkers.

“Don't ask me how I know, Lord Eddard. You should check if the Will you beheaded had two companions. They are missing and haven't been found yet. Send a raven to the Wall. Lord Commander Mormont will reply to you.” The Mountain stood up, looking down at Eddard. “My lord, I suggest you stop investigating Jon Arryn. Your focus should be on the North. The White Walkers are coming. To escape, the wildlings in the North will launch a large-scale southward invasion, attacking the Wall. If you continue to investigate Jon Arryn, you will die. All your guards, stablemen, financial officers, Septa Mordane, the blacksmith, and the butcher's boy Mikken, will all die, a tragic death.”

Flames ignited in Eddard's eyes, and he stood up abruptly: “Ser Gregor, the Lannisters have finally sent you to my door to threaten me in person. The Northmen would rather die than yield, and have never known fear.”

The Mountain chuckled: “My lord, I'll say it again, I wasn't sent by the Lannisters. As for the Northmen rather dying than yielding and never knowing fear, I believe it. But after you die, what will happen to your two daughters? The Red Keep is full of liars and schemers. Who can they trust? My lord, the place you should be focusing on is the North and the Wall, because winter is coming, the White Walkers are coming.”

“Ser Gregor, please leave!” Eddard's face was ashen, his tone as sharp as a knife.

The Mountain stared at Eddard Stark, turned and walked out. He ducked his head out of the doorway, paused, his head in the door frame: “Lord Hand, perhaps you will soon see a black-clad brother, a recruiting officer coming to King's Landing's dungeons to recruit soldiers. Ask him about Will, Gared, and Waymar Royce.”

“Ser Gregor, what I should do and how I should do it is none of your concern. Tell your master, whoever dares to touch my daughters will regret it bitterly.”

The Mountain shrugged, snorted, and turned to leave.

Listening to the Mountain's footsteps descend the spiral staircase, out of the corridor, into the courtyard, out of the Hand's Tower gate, until the footsteps were completely inaudible, Eddard remained standing, motionless.

The Lannisters are too arrogant, daring to send the Mountain to his door to threaten him directly, and implying that they would use his two daughters to coerce him. Eddard was filled with anger, and only his position as Hand of the King kept him from drawing his sword directly.

The Lannisters… are really… too arrogant!

But how could the Mountain know about the beheading of the deserter?

That day, there were only twenty attendants, and they were definitely loyal guards of the family.

He would have almost completely forgotten what Will said that day if the Mountain hadn't mentioned it!

The Mountain, how could he know… Will and the White Walkers?

Is he implying that there are spies of theirs by my side? Or is it that a wizard told the Mountain a… great prophecy?