The Mountain of Ice and Fire

Bang!

Tygett punched the wall.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he became.

Lord Tywin had always valued House Sarrett, entrusting them with the important task of defending the Golden Road and granting them the mountainous lands of the Silver Hills, rich in mineral deposits.

But what his sons had done this time, behind Tygett's back, was terrible, and their actions had greatly displeased Lord Tywin.

Lord Tywin's authority was not to be challenged.

From the bedroom inside the living room came the sound of Tygett's wife sobbing.

The news of their youngest son Alva's death had deeply saddened her.

This time, on the journey north, Tygett Sarrett had deliberately brought his wife along to foster closer ties with Queen Cersei Lannister, allowing her to chat and converse with the queen during the two-month journey. The journey was long and arduous, and Queen Cersei needed noblewomen companions to relieve her fatigue and loneliness.

"Stop crying," Tygett snapped.

"…My son…is dead…that damned…Mountain…that Mountain who deserves to be torn to pieces…"

Tygett stormed to the bedroom door. "You find comfort in cursing here, but do you even realize the disaster looming? Have you not heard of the Rains of Castamere?"

The 'Rains of Castamere,' sung throughout the Seven Kingdoms, instilled fear in all who heard it. The two most powerful families in the Westerlands were wiped out for offending the Lannisters. Their family lands remained desolate to this day, overgrown with weeds.

His wife raised her tear-streaked face, her sobs abruptly ceasing. Her grief vanished, replaced by shock.

"…Is…it…that…serious…?"

"Look at this letter?"

"The letter doesn't contain any accusations against us from Lord Tywin."

"No, it doesn't. Lord Tywin merely said to Maester Polliver that I should control my sons, and the next sentence was that if I didn't, he would. Do you not understand what it means for Lord Tywin to control my sons for me?"

A gasp escaped his wife's throat, and she involuntarily covered her mouth.

Her face was pale, and her body trembled slightly.

"But Ser Gregor also said that the poisoning and cavalry raid had nothing to do with Silverhall Sarrett, that it was all done by Alan Sarrett."

"Do you believe that yourself?" Tygett sneered.

"…I…believe it…"

"I don't believe it, and Lord Tywin won't believe it either."

"…Why…?"

His wife realized that she couldn't control her slight trembling, and her body began to feel cold.

"Alan Sarrett, a mine guard captain, how could he have obtained Arbor Gold to send to Ser Gregor without the permission of our House Sarrett? Without the support of Silverhall Sarrett, how could Alan have possessed such an expensive and secretive poison like the strangler?"

His wife was immediately silenced!

"My only concern now is that Lord Tywin might think I was aware of it."

"…Then what should we do?" The tears on his wife's face had dried. She suddenly stood up. "You quickly write a letter back to Lord Tywin, and I'll go to Maegor's Holdfast to explain the situation to Queen Cersei. We knew nothing about what happened in the Westerlands. It wasn't ordered by you, and it wasn't ordered by me." His wife stammered, incoherent.

She rushed out of the bedroom, then hurried back, opened the wardrobe, and rummaged through her clothes. "Tygett, which one do you think is more suitable for me to wear? White? Red? Pink or silk? No, no, no, I need to put on makeup first. Oh, Kexia, where are you? Damn Kexia, I'm going to chop off your head. Hurry up and do my makeup, you damn idiot."

"Can't you be a little calmer?" Tygett snapped. "We were in King's Landing when the incident occurred. Lord Tywin must also be unsure whether I ordered the poisoning of Ser Gregor, so we must seize this opportunity to clarify and gain Ser Gregor's understanding."

"…No, why should we seek the understanding of that damned Mountain… We just need to gain Lord Tywin's trust…"

"You don't understand anything… Sit down and put on your makeup properly. I have to write letters to Lord Tywin, Ser Gregor, and Addam Sarrett immediately. You hurry up and finish your makeup and go to Maegor's Holdfast to see Queen Cersei."

*

Westlands, Clegane's Keep.

Gregor stood on the high steps, looking at the eleven dark-skinned men. These men were all his subjects, summoned back by a decree of conscription.

Once the conscription order was issued, the Sarrett mines had to settle accounts and release the men immediately.

The lords of the various territories have absolute conscription rights over the inhabitants of their territories.

Eleven households, eleven miners, one household with three people, two households with two people, and the remaining 4 people belonging to four households, which meant that the men of 4 of the households had died in the mines. Thomasman's son died in a mine collapse the day before he returned.

These men were all the male strength in Gregor's territory.

But they were not skilled warriors.

In Gregor's eyes, miners who could truly be warriors needed to be trained.

Skilled warriors who could fight were not miners, farmers, fishermen, or hunters.

This time, Gregor summoned them back with the conscription order not only to have them put on armor and carry swords to fight, but also to have them mine.

Mine gold.

The current cavalryman and former old miner Thomasman was responsible for leading this team of miners.

After he finished his stuttering speech to the eleven miner brothers, the miners collectively looked at Thomasman with silent eyes. They had many questions, but with the Mountain present, and several notorious Mountain followers who didn't blink an eye when killing, they would rather do wrong than say wrong.

"I can see that you all have something to say, speak up. Voice your questions, and I won't punish you. Whoever dares to stand up and speak first, I will reward him with a bag of salt, a good horse, a set of armor, and a good sword," Gregor said. His voice was unusually devoid of ferocity.

The whole place was silent.

The subjects also knew that the Mountain had recently had a fierce fight with the Sarrett family and made a fortune.

A bag of salt, a good horse, a set of armor, and a good sword, such generous rewards were something these men could not refuse but dared not believe. They could not earn so much in their entire lives.

The price of a good sword was enough for them to mine in the mountains for twenty years.

"Notebook."

"Yes, Lord."

"If no one speaks after three more heartbeats, you will deal with them one by one."

"Yes, Lord, how do you want me to deal with them?"

"Cut out their tongues. Since they don't like to speak, their tongues are superfluous."

"Yes, Lord." Notebook grinned.

Sweetmouth Ralph, the Executioner Dunsen, and the brainwashed Polliver all revealed pleasant smiles.

They all liked doing this kind of work, such as blinding people's eyes, cutting off people's tongues, and chopping off people's hands and feet.

A very short silence was then broken by a stuttering voice: "Lord Gregor, the place you arranged for us to mine does not belong to our territory."