The Mountain of Ice and Fire

Third-Eyed Raven Bran Returns

“It was a trade,” Rattleshirt responded softly, “A trade I made with my own blood. As long as she needs it, I will provide her with blood.”

“A trade with that evil witch.”

“No, a trade with the Lord of Light.”

Varamyr nodded: “My king, I like this trade. I am curious, you are just like the real Rattleshirt, I can't see the slightest difference. Is this the power of God or a little trick of witchcraft?”

“I have a ruby sewn into my underwear pocket, the same ruby Melisandre wears on her throat. It changed my appearance.”

“The power of the gem?”

“I don't know, but it's definitely not human power. I am Rattleshirt himself now.”

Varamyr opened his small eyes and carefully looked at Rattleshirt again, he couldn't see any flaws. Varamyr had fought and lived with Rattleshirt for more than twenty years, and both of them were formidable opponents deeply hated by the older generation of Night's Watch. Varamyr was in a trance for a moment. If his snow eagle hadn't seen this secret hidden in the night sky, he wouldn't have recognized that this person was not Rattleshirt.

*

Rattleshirt, the King of Bones among the Free Folk. His armor is unique, all made of bones; he wears a suit of bone armor.

The bone armor is composed of loosely hung bones, rattling when walking, hence Rattleshirt's name. He wears a broken giant skull as a helmet on his back, which he puts on during battle. Compared to the wildling king Mance Rayder, Rattleshirt is short and has an ordinary appearance. He has a knobby chin, a short beard, flat and sallow cheeks, eyes that are thin slits, eyebrows that run across his forehead, and sparse black hair on his pointed bald head.

And Mance Rayder, whom Varamyr calls 'my king,' is tall, with long legs, a strong physique, and broad shoulders and chest. He has long, grey-brown hair, and smile lines have already crept onto the corners of his mouth.

One is short and the other tall, one has an ordinary appearance and the other has a dignified appearance. Rattleshirt curses frequently, while Mance Rayder is a middle-aged man with some elegance who likes music and can improvise his own songs.

Because of the power brought by the ruby on Melisandre's throat, Mance Rayder turned into Rattleshirt and maintained Rattleshirt's appearance, while Rattleshirt turned into Mance Rayder on that terrible night. In order to allow the southerners to accept the Free Folk warriors and people and not fight among themselves, Rattleshirt, disguised as Mance Rayder, had been executed.

*

“We cannot win, Rattleshirt,” Varamyr's voice was full of exhaustion and the aura of death, his heart was already desperate, “My eagle saw too many wight armies, crossing the Night's Watch gift, heading towards Hearthglen. The corpses buried in the earth have all crawled out, and the dead raptors and beasts in the wolfswood have stood up, opened their blue eyes, and are walking towards us. The wights are not fast, but they will never stop.”

“Is this why you can't live in the wolfswood? The dead birds and beasts in the wolfswood have become wights, and you can no longer hide, you will easily be discovered.”

“Yes.”

“But we have a turning point at the moment, maybe we will win.”

“Oh?!” Varamyr stared at Rattleshirt, his eyes gleaming.

“We received news that the southerner, the Mountain, has tamed a dragon in the Mountains of the Moon and is leading a southern army of 100,000 north. If the Cold God is the Others' god, then the dragon is the son of the Red God. Fire is the nemesis of snow, Varamyr. Melisandre said that the Red God and the Fire God are both two faces of the Lord of Light, R'hllor.”

“A dragon? You said a dragon appeared in the south?” Varamyr was shocked, his face twisted, and his voice changed.

No one who hears about the sudden appearance of a dragon for the first time is not surprised.

“Yes, a dragon that is more than two hundred years old. It is said that the power of its dragon flame has reached its peak. Even the Night King himself, I think, would not dare to be directly hit by the dragon flame of a dragon that is more than two hundred years old. Those wights are the easiest candles to burn. They are walking kerosene barrels, and only a spark is needed to ignite them and then burn them to ashes.”

“Are you telling the truth? Is the power of dragon flame so powerful that even the Night King cannot withstand it? Who did you hear it from? Ice is also the nemesis of fire,” Varamyr said anxiously. He was only worried about the Night King. The Night King was not afraid of fire at all, he had seen it many times.

“All the southerners say so about the power of dragon flame.”

The southerners in the mouths of the Free Folk are a general term for everyone south of the Wall. And the people of the Seven Kingdoms only call the people of the Reach and Dorne southerners.

“A dragon that suddenly appeared? Has it been hiding all along? So that the Others could not detect it?” Varamyr murmured, subconsciously repeating his words. The news Rattleshirt told him shocked him and he couldn't understand and digest it well for a while.

“I don't think anyone would know the specific situation of the dragon. I only know that the southerners did receive a letter saying that the dragon tamed by the Mountain of the Westerlands has been hidden in the deepest part of the Mountains of the Moon all along. Hidden for one hundred and seventy years.”

“The southerners' god deliberately hid a dragon in the deep mountains, waiting for the Others to launch an attack before it came out?”

“Most likely, otherwise why would that dragon suddenly appear at this time? And be tamed by the Mountain? And the Mountain also brought 100,000 soldiers and countless obsidian weapons, as well as wildfire, and a group of Septon monks who heal injuries and pray for the sick. The monks are from the Great Sept of Baelor.”

“Is this good news reliable?”

“Lord Eddard Stark of the North and Commander-in-Chief Jon Snow have confirmed the news, but they are keeping it a secret, and only a few of us know. However, for some reason, the soldiers are quietly discussing and inquiring about this news.”

“Keeping it a secret? So that the Night King won't detect it in advance.”

“Maybe.”

Varamyr suddenly became excited: “The dragon must be a miracle shown by our Old Gods. Our Old Gods include all the gods, all the gods in the sky, the earth, and the ocean. It also includes the Fire God and the Red God. Eight thousand years ago, when the First Men fought against the Others, there were no Seven Gods or Red Gods, only the Old Gods.”

The Free Folk, like the Northmen, have always adhered to the faith of the First Men: believing in all the gods in the mountains, rivers, sky, earth, spring, summer, autumn, and winter.

A smile appeared on Rattleshirt's face: “Varamyr, mankind won eight thousand years ago, and I hope we can win this time too.”

“Yes, the Cold God and the Others can only belong to the Land of Always Winter. We will defeat them again and drive them back to the Land of Always Winter.” A glow also appeared on Varamyr's face, “Is the Mountain the great hero of the southerners?”

“Uh. It doesn't seem so.”

“Isn't the Mountain, who tamed the dragon, the most remarkable warrior among the southerners' warriors?”

“On the contrary, the southerners say that the Mountain is the most evil thug in the Seven Kingdoms.”

Varamyr smiled: “Just like the southerners contemptuously say that we are savages?”

“I think so.”

“I like the most evil thug in the mouths of the southerners. He and his dragon have brought a glimmer of hope to my desperate heart. I don't want to die, damn it. After the war, if we are lucky enough to win, my king, I hope I can live south of the Wall. Maybe the most evil thug whom the southerners hate the most is willing to give me, a barbarian hated by the Night's Watch, a place to live.”

Living in the south was Varamyr's dream since he was ten years old.

“But I will lead the Free Folk back to the North, that is where we really should be.”

“The North is too harsh, I can only see ice and snow there.”

“What I see is freedom and equality, without hypocrisy and exploitation.”

“But I still choose to live in the south, my king, you won't stop me, will you?”

“You have absolute freedom of choice, Varamyr. Although we are now in the south, we are still independent Free Folk. No one has the right to deprive you of your freedom of choice.”

A big smile bloomed on Varamyr's face. Mance Rayder can always change the minds of the most stubborn stones and melt the deepest hostility and ice into water. He will not force anyone to change their minds, he always respects everyone's ideas, and then gives his own well-considered suggestions.

The fake Rattleshirt brought four guards, two male scimitar warriors and two spearwives. One of the spearwives is the leader of the Free Folk female warriors: Doghead Hamma.

The Free Folk treat men and women equally, both are warriors, and men and women enjoy the same status and treatment, and have the right to vote and be elected. In the Free Folk army, there is a warrior corps in which women make up the majority, and the leader is Doghead Hamma.

Hamma's pockmarked face is very thick, and her figure is also very strong, no different from the strongest men. She likes to raise dogs, eat dog meat, and drink dog blood. When in the north, Doghead Hamma would slaughter a dog every half month to replace the dog head on the banner. Her military flag is a bloody dog head.

Before Mance Rayder unified the wildlings, Hamma and Rattleshirt were mortal enemies. The two tribes often fought. Mance appeared, carrying a sword and a harp, and made them reconcile. Rattleshirt and Doghead Hamma were finally persuaded by Mance and became Mance Rayder's most loyal subordinates.

One Free Folk female warrior that all the wildling warriors wanted to sleep with was named Ygritte Redhair. After Jon Snow slept with Ygritte, she refused to let any other Free Folk warriors touch her again; the second woman everyone wanted to sleep with was Doghead Hamma. It is said that those who fruit Doghead Hamma cannot get up the next day, which makes the men even more eager to pursue her.

Varamyr looked at Doghead Hamma: “Hamma, did you have any other men in your bed tonight?”

Doghead Hamma looked at Varamyr's small body with contempt: “Hamma never lacks men at night, get lost!”

“Hehehe!” Of course, Varamyr didn't get lost, “Hamma, if you tell that man to get lost tonight... if you would accept me once...” Varamyr pointed to a snow bear, three dire wolves, and a shadowcat beside him, “These warriors of mine will always protect you in future battles, I swear.”

*

The next day, the Great Hall.

Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, sat in the center of the main table, his long face had obvious frostbite-induced purple-redness, gray eyes, messy beard, faint crow's feet at the corners of his eyes, and three wrinkles on his forehead when he looked up. Eddard was born in 262 AC, and is only thirty-eight years old this year, in his prime, but his beard and brown hair have begun to turn gray, as if he is entering old age.

The experiences of the past three years have greatly increased Eddard's sense of aging. Looking at his appearance, he is a forty-eight-year-old middle-aged man, not thirty-eight years old. The battle with the Others made him age even faster. He has a nickname: the Silent Wolf.

Taciturnity is the stereotype everyone has of him, and because of his taciturnity, everyone thinks he is a stern person, but in fact, Eddard's heart is very soft.

Eddard, who has a soft heart, is now looking at a wildling who is not much taller than a dwarf—Varamyr.

Varamyr was brought by Rattleshirt to meet Eddard Stark. He said he had something very important to report to Lord Eddard.

Behind Eddard stood Greatjon Robett, who looked like a small giant. Beside Eddard sat Jon Snow, Commander-in-Chief of the Night's Watch, and Davos Seaworth, Shireen's Onion Prime Minister.

Eddard stared at Varamyr in front of him, silent, without asking any questions. His gaze was like a torch, scanning Varamyr's body back and forth. Varamyr felt like Eddard could see through everything. The Silent Wolf is not that he cannot speak, he just prefers to use his eyes.

In the past three years, along with the aging of his appearance, his observation has become sharper.

“Lord Eddard, Varamyr has something very important to report to you,” said Rattleshirt, who accompanied Varamyr. Duke Eddard glanced at Rattleshirt, still without speaking, but turned his gaze back to Varamyr. This time, Varamyr understood the meaning in Lord Eddard's eyes. Eddard was telling him to speak.

Varamyr knew that this guy who looked like frozen soil had no sense of humor and hated any flowery words, so he opened his mouth and said honestly: “My lord, when I was in the wolfswood mountains, I saved two children from the claws of a pack of wolves. One child is called Meera Reed, and the other child is called Bran Stark.”

“Bran?!” Eddard Stark said without moving.

“Bran?!” Jon Snow almost stood up, but his father was beside him as steady as a mountain, which affected his words and deeds. He had no choice but to sit still on the stool, but his voice and tone changed, and his face became excited.

“Yes, a disabled boy who can only lie on a wicker mat.” The word 'disabled' sounded harsh to Jon's ears, but Eddard remained expressionless. Varamyr continued, he would not care about the detailed feelings of these southern noble lords. Varamyr had died in the bodies of animals a total of seven times, but each time he narrowly escaped. These seven experiences made him exceptionally powerful, “Bran broke both legs. It was the Three-Eyed Raven he sent out who found me. I drove away the pack of wolves for him and placed him and Meera in a temporarily safe place. My lord, this is what Bran asked me to give you.”

Varamyr took out the thing, which was a dagger. The shape of the dagger's hilt was a direwolf.

This is a symbol and token of Bran's identity.

“Varamyr, why didn't you bring my brother back with you?” Jon Snow asked, his tone excited and his voice urgent.

“I can't take him with me. There are several wight squads nearby. He said those wight squads are looking for him. The Night King has roughly locked onto his location, and he doesn't dare move rashly. He wants me to get away first, then come to Hearthstone and tell Lord Eddard the news. I need help to bring Bran and Meera back together. I need a cavalry unit that can run very fast, and dozens of barrels of wildfire.”

“I'll go with you.” Jon Snow stood up abruptly. “Varamyr, thirty of the best ranger brothers, is that enough?”

“Enough, but don't forget to bring obsidian weapons. There are two White Walkers in that area.”

Caw!

A crow's call came from the window. Everyone looked up. A three-eyed crow they had never seen before landed on the windowsill. Three black eyes, arranged in a triangular pattern, rolled around, scanning everyone in the hall.

Varamyr looked at the three-eyed crow: “Lord Eddard, it was this three-eyed crow that came to find me in the depths of the Wolfswood.”

“How can you be sure that this three-eyed crow was sent by Bran to find you?” Jon asked.

“He was standing on a branch not far from me at the time. When I made eye contact with him, he suddenly started talking, giving me a terrible fright.”

A talking three-eyed crow?! Everyone's expression changed!

But this wasn't too strange for the Night's Watch brothers, because the Night's Watch's former Lord Commander Jeor Mormont had a raven that could talk, and most of the Night's Watch brothers had been tricked by it.