The Mountain of Ice and Fire

The Grand Eunuch stood on the middle of the third step, announcing in a singsong voice, "All hail Joffrey of the House Baratheon and Lannister, First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm!"

Eddard stood motionless, as did the four high officials beside him.

Eddard looked coldly at the boy on the Iron Throne across from him.

Sixteen years ago, he had charged into this throne room in armor, leading the North's warriors. Back then, the Iron Throne was occupied by this child's father, Jaime Lannister. The Kingslayer's golden sword was stained with fresh blood, and the Mad King Aerys's corpse lay beside him. Jaime's elbow rested on his arrogant chin as Eddard and Jaime locked eyes. Eventually, Jaime rose from the Iron Throne and smiled, "Northerner, don't be nervous. I'm just warming the seat for Robert."

However, today's child was fearless: "Kneel, submit to me, swear your allegiance, or I'll kill you all." The boy waved his hand, encompassing everyone below the steps.

Eddard took the King's will from his pocket and handed it to Varys, the Master of Whisperers: "Lord Varys, please present the King's will to the Queen."

Varys accepted the will and cautiously approached. The five Kingsguard did not yield until the Queen spoke, opening a path on the side. Varys stepped forward and handed the King's will to the Queen.

The Queen took it, not bothering to look, and with a tearing sound, ripped the King's will in half, then tore it again, reducing the King's will to four pieces.

The Queen's action caused Barristan to exclaim in disbelief.

The King's will was a symbol of authority equal to the law. No one could tear up the King's will, as it was tantamount to tearing up the law.

Queen Cersei looked coldly at the equally stunned Eddard and said, "It's just a piece of paper. What's so interesting about it? Ser Barristan, Lord Eddard, esteemed members of the Small Council, the new King sits on the Iron Throne. The late King's will is no longer important."

"According to the late King's will, I am the Regent, Protector of the Realm, and in charge of all affairs of the kingdom. Joffrey has no right to inherit the throne. The true heir to the throne is Stannis Baratheon."

"What is this Northern hillbilly saying? He says I have no right to inherit? I should have his head chopped off ten or eight times just for saying that." The boy's face turned red as he stood up and pointed at Eddard, shouting.

Cersei was furious: "Eddard, you're courting death. Considering the advice you gave me last time, I'll give you a piece of advice now. Kneel and submit, and issue an order to the Seven Kingdoms, declaring Joffrey the lawful heir and King of the realm, and I'll spare your life, allowing you to return to that cold, gray wasteland to die of old age."

Eddard sneered: "Does a child born of your incestuous relationship with Jaime deserve to possess the throne?"

Joffrey abruptly turned to look at his mother.

Cersei sneered: "Ser Barristan, in the name of the Queen Dowager, I order you to immediately seize Lord Eddard Stark. He intends to commit treason, attempting to seize power while my son is still young."

Barristan Selmy looked at Eddard, who said in a deep voice, "Ser, you are one who has seen the King's will."

Barristan's hand rested on the hilt of his sword, but he hesitated, unable to draw it. Barristan wasn't certain whether Joffrey was truly born of Cersei and Jaime's incest.

Eddard also had no concrete evidence!

But Barristan trusted Eddard's character, but here, character needed to be supplemented with strong evidence.

However, Barristan's hand on the hilt of his sword was an absolute threat. Eddard's eight guards did not dare to be negligent and immediately stepped forward, aiming their longswords at Barristan. The three Northern guards at the front were Tomard, Varly, and Cayn. Their three longswords were aimed at Barristan's vitals.

The boy on the Iron Throne was furious: "Kingsguard, Hound, Goldcloaks, kill all these rebels!"

Clang, clang, clang!

The five Kingsguard drew their longswords and stepped forward in unison.

The Northern guards immediately split, with five guards stepping forward to engage them.

The Hound drew his longsword and leaped down from the steps of the Iron Throne. The twenty Redcloaks behind him shouted and drew their longswords, rushing downwards.

Eddard quickly shouted: "Commander Janos Slynt, I order you to seize the Queen and Joffrey, as well as the other two children. Do not harm them. Confine them to the royal chambers and have them guarded day and night."

Janos immediately put on his helmet and shouted: "City Watch, battle formation!"

The hundred Goldcloaks lined up under the long windows, each holding an eight-foot-long spear. They shouted in unison, lowered their spears, and quickly gathered around Eddard and his men.

The Hound, seeing the City Watch fully mobilized, immediately stopped and shouted, "Battle formation!"

Thus, the twenty Goldcloaks gathered around the Hound, forming a battle formation. They marched forward with synchronized steps, continuing to press forward.

The five Kingsguard confronted the five Northern guards. Their captain, Barristan, was held at bay by three longswords. The Northern guard captain, Tomard, threatened to take Barristan's life if the Kingsguard moved, preventing them from acting rashly.

Seeing the City Watch coming up together and suppressing the situation, Eddard knew that victory was within his grasp. He shouted: "Cersei, order your men to lay down their weapons..."

Pfft!

A clear and cruel sound of flesh resonated as a long spear pierced through the body of Tomard, the Northern guard captain who was threatening Barristan, from behind. The spear pierced through his back, protruding from his chest, the tip stained with crimson blood.

Tomard's longsword loosened in his hand. Before the sword could fall, he was already dead.

With a loud crash!

Janos Slynt's longsword struck Varly's neck. The blade completely cut into the armor, embedding itself in his neck. Varly spun half a circle and fell.

The situation was critical. Cayn released Barristan and spun around to slash, the sword light like a bolt of white silk, forcing back several long spears. He rushed forward, hacking and slashing, his movements swift and fluid, unmatched. He was about to break through the Goldcloak formation when a figure strode forward, a longsword whistling down. The first strike severed Cayn's right hand, and the second strike cleaved Cayn's neck and chest together. Cayn fell, collapsing into a pool of blood.

The one who killed Cayn was the Hound.

The other five Northern guards were attacked from both sides by the five Kingsguard and several long spears. In the blink of an eye, they were struck by swords and pierced by spears, dying cleanly. All five Northern guards perished without even harming a hair on their enemies' heads.

Eddard was stunned, like a clay sculpture, in disbelief!

Varys stood beside the Queen, looking down at everything, his expression shocked.

Littlefinger and Grand Maester Pycelle stood beside Eddard, neither daring to move.

"Aren't you going to seize Eddard Stark, who is attempting to usurp the throne?!" Cersei ordered coldly.

A cold dagger rested on Eddard's neck, and a familiar voice with a mischievous smile said: "Lord Eddard, I told you not to trust me."

Several long spears and longswords pressed against Eddard's entire body.

Grand Maester Pycelle walked away tremblingly, and neither the Goldcloaks nor the Redcloaks harmed or stopped him.

Eddard's heart was ice-cold. He suddenly remembered the words the Mountain had warned him: Winter is coming, Lord Eddard. Go back to the North. Your goal is in the North. If you stay and insist on investigating Jon Arryn's death, all your people will die, a miserable death.

"Kill him!" The boy Joffrey watched with glee, shouting.

Cersei said gently: "Your Majesty, he is your betrothed's father. He is unkind, but we cannot be unjust. First, lock him in the dungeon. After Your Majesty's coronation ceremony, it will not be too late to judge his crimes."

Joffrey said sullenly: "Take the traitor down. After my coronation ceremony, behead him."

Cersei shouted: "Who is willing to lead the soldiers to the Tower of the Hand, kill all the rebel's servants, and bring me the two Stark girls?"

"No!" Eddard roared, but he could not move. The longswords and long spears pressed tightly against his body, and his head was forced back by Littlefinger's dagger.

"Your Majesty the Queen Mother, Your Majesty the King, please give me twenty men from the City Watch. I will go to the Tower of the Hand, kill all the rebel servants, and bring the two Stark girls." Kingsguard Meryn Trant said loudly.

Barristan Selmy said: "Your Majesty the Queen, Lord Eddard is guilty, but the crime does not extend to his wife and children, let alone those servants who could not possibly know about Lord Eddard's affairs. They are innocent."

Cersei sneered: "Ser Barristan, in the game of power, no one is truly innocent."

"Shut up, you coward." Joffrey shouted, "If it weren't for that white robe you wear, old man, I would have your head chopped off right now."

Barristan Selmy's face turned pale instantly.

Meryn Trant received twenty Goldcloaks, and he led this squad straight to the Tower of the Hand.

Eddard was powerless, unable to move. The Mountain's words echoed in his mind again: Winter is coming... Go back to the North... Otherwise, all your people will die because of you, a miserable death... The Mountain warned me, but I never listened... Sansa... Arya... No...

*

"Left. Right. Up. Up. Down. Up. Left."

Amidst a series of directional words, accompanied by the crackling sound of wooden swords clashing, there was a muffled thud. Arya's right chest was struck by a sword, causing her piercing pain, and she couldn't breathe for several heartbeats.

"The girl is dead," the dancing master said with a grin, followed by another strike that knocked the wooden sword out of Arya's hand.

"You cheated," Arya gasped. "You called left, but you attacked my right side."

"The girl is already dead. Don't make excuses." The dancing master clasped both swords in one hand. His name was Syrio Forel, and he claimed to be the First Sword of the Sea Lord of Braavos for nine years. Of course, no one knew if this wandering swordsman's words were true.

"If you didn't cheat, I could block everything," Arya said, unconvinced. She knew that her chest would be bruised tomorrow. But it didn't matter. Syrio had said that every injury in training would only make her stronger.

"Sit down. It's time for a lesson now." Syrio stroked his small black beard and smiled. "If you only listen with your ears, you will be deceived. You must look with your eyes."

"My eyes are always on you," Arya said.

"Wrong. Not with your eyes, but with your heart. You must look with your heart. My calls will deceive you, but my body movements, eyes, and the sword in my hand will not deceive you. You must learn to discern the truth with your heart. Sit down and listen carefully to how to look with your heart..."

"Yes!" Arya sat down obediently like a kitten, listening carefully to her teacher's teachings on the secret of 'discerning the truth with your heart'.

After the lesson, the dancing master threw the wooden sword back to Arya and began practical training in 'discerning the truth with your heart'. Amidst the crackling back and forth, Arya's sword almost struck her teacher's wrist, which made her proud. However, in the next instant, her wooden sword was knocked down, and her teacher's wooden sword pressed against her throat.

"You're dead again, girl!" Syrio said triumphantly. "I did that on purpose just now. Girl, look with your heart, think with your brain. Many good things are actually traps. Swordsmanship is like life. Many sword techniques are also hypocrites."

Loud footsteps sounded outside the door. A tall white-robed general in full armor led several Goldcloaks into the small courtyard. This was a deserted courtyard, and many roads connected to it.

Arya danced with her dancing master in this quiet and secluded place every day.

"Arya, we are sent by your father to pick you up. Come with us!" The white-robed general at the head was none other than Kingsguard Meryn Trant.

"I don't know you!" Arya said warily. "Where's Tomard? Where's Varly? If they can't leave, Father would send Cayn."

"They are busy in the throne room. The Hand of the King specifically ordered me to pick you up." Meryn Trant waved his hand, and two guards immediately stepped forward to grab Arya.

Crack, crack!

Two crisp sounds of wooden swords striking. The two guards were struck in the face and fell in response.

A figure flashed, and Syrio stood in front of Arya, holding his wooden sword diagonally, his left hand behind his back. He faced the enemy sideways, his posture graceful: "Girl, go quickly. Find your father."

"No!" Arya also raised the sword in her hand, her posture exactly the same as her teacher's. "A true swordsman never flees from battle."

This was the swordsman's code that the teacher had taught Arya. Arya spoke righteously, with a proper demeanor.

"Well said, girl, but you are not a swordsman yet. So, go quickly!" The dancing master narrowed his eyes.

"Little man, this is none of your business," Meryn Trant said. "I'll spare your life. Get out of here!"

"No, no, no, big man. A true swordsman never flees from battle. Haven't you heard this swordsman's code?"

Meryn Trant was furious. He waved his hand, and several Goldcloaks pounced forward, brandishing their longswords, hacking and slashing. The dancing master pushed Arya away, retreating while counterattacking. As long as he counterattacked, every strike was sure to hit the enemy's vitals, be it the wrist, face, or shin, instep. In a few heartbeats, several Goldcloaks all fell to the ground, groaning in pain.

"If the girl doesn't leave, I'm going to curse your mother," Syrio shouted. "Don't affect my swordsmanship here, girl. Go quickly!" Later, Syrio's voice became stern, and his face showed anger.

Arya, holding the wooden sword, called out to her teacher and turned to run.

Meryn Trant cursed viciously, lowered his visor, and strode forward with his greatsword. Syrio landed several blows on Meryn Trant, but the heavy armor covered Meryn Trant from head to toe, like a tortoise shell. Meryn Trant pressed closer to Syrio and brought his greatsword down with a forceful chop. Syrio dodged while attempting to parry, but his wooden sword was cleaved in two.