"Stop! Stop! We are Western nobles! We are Lord Tywin's men! We were just passing through here, why are you killing us?" Addam shouted when he saw the wild man leader speak the common tongue.
However, apart from the circle surrounding Addam, led by the wild man chief, who was grinning and inspecting what valuables were on them, the sounds of killing continued to echo through the mist.
"Western big landowners passing through my territory without notifying me in advance? That's not how things work," the wild man chief said, glancing at the blonde beauty in his arms.
Disgusted, Cersei turned her head away, but it was useless. The wild man's grip was enormous, and after licking her, he held her close and took a deep breath, burying his face in her hair.
Cersei couldn't bear the stench of the wild man chief and growled, "If you know Tywin, then let me go! I am Tywin Lannister's daughter, Cersei Lannister!"
"Haha, just because you say so? Now, you're my property, and all of you are the property of our tribe!"
"Oh~~~"
As soon as the chief finished speaking, his subordinates raised their axes and began to chant.
Amid the cheering, Addam remained silent. He was thinking that talking about Donnels and Riverlands territory was useless with these bandits. After Cersei had given her name, the wild men were not surprised. They likely didn't know that Cersei was officially dead.
After thinking it over, Addam followed the chief's words, "The woman you hold is Tywin's daughter; she's a noble, and you cannot harm her. We can pay for her release!"
The wild man chief casually cut a piece of cloth from the body under his feet with his axe, using it to wipe his cherished weapon. When it came to bargaining, his subordinates would not intervene at this moment, and the scene grew quiet.
Robbery and kidnapping often went hand in hand, and there were many similarities between the two. The wild men had been robbing the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms for centuries, and they knew that there was a custom of paying ransom for important figures.
"Stop! Bring all the survivors here!" the chief commanded in his native language.
Addam saw the wild men scatter. Just as he was about to relax his defensive stance, a group of wild men threw ropes from behind them, each noose landing precisely on the soldiers. When the ropes were pulled, the wild men rushed in, and Addam's spear was knocked out of his hands. Everyone was captured.
The Western soldiers were gradually brought to the muddy ground in front of the chief.
The Hound, who had lost his longsword, was tied up with ropes and brought here. He didn't hesitate; as soon as he arrived, he kneeled. This was unfamiliar swampy land, they were at a huge disadvantage in numbers, trying to flee would only lead to being eaten by the crocodiles. The Hound knew his only chance of survival was to not anger the wild men and either pay the ransom or wait to be rescued.
Originally, a group of nearly two hundred, now only about thirty were left kneeling in the mud, including Cersei and her five handmaidens, whom the wild men hadn't killed. The rest had been stripped of all their belongings, their bodies left where they fell. The wild men, now adorned with the spoils of war, began to gather around the chief. The crocodiles, who had already climbed onto the shore, immediately charged to enjoy the fresh meal.
"Damn!" The Hound cursed under his breath, his eyes still fixed on the wild man chief.
He saw seven or eight people approaching, some of whom he recognized. The Hound identified four of them—hunters who had been humiliated by Donnel at the inn, now armed with longspears and dressed in Western clothes.
The information provided by the hunters was very accurate, and the wild men had made significant gains. The chief didn't hesitate to reward them with the spoils they deserved.
There were also some wild men from other tribes who received rewards. The chief had gathered his people and arrived at the inn two days late, having tracked the Westerners through fog and rising waters, losing their trail when they couldn't find the tracks in the water. Fortunately, they encountered some friendly tribesmen who had clashed with the Westerners, and they guided the wild men here.
"You'd better release us, or my father's army will hang every one of you on the walls of his castle!" Cersei shouted.
No one paid attention to her. Only Donnel, who was kneeling nearby, trembling with fear, his lips white, seemed to find some relief when he heard her words.
After distributing the spoils, the chief and his warriors approached Addam once again.
The chief looked down at Addam, casually picking one of the kneeling men and gesturing for his warrior to bring him forward. With an axe pointed at Addam, the chief asked, "Noble?"
"No, he is just an ordinary knight," Addam replied.
As soon as he spoke, the warrior behind them swiftly beheaded the soldier, his head falling to the ground.
"Not worth anything. Next."
The wild man chief ran an efficient operation, efficiently dealing with worthless prisoners.
Addam had heard of the wild men before, but now, dealing with them for the first time, he realized they didn't care about nobility. To save more lives, he began to slightly exaggerate people's ranks and value.
Already unable to stand, Donnel was dragged by the collar by the wildlings, who despised cowards. One of them kicked him, sending him sprawling into the muck.
The wildling leader no longer asked questions. With a swing of his axe, he pointed at Addam, signaling him to speak.
"He is a nobleman. Sarsfieldin Heir, valuable!" Addam paused slightly when mentioning noble blood. Unlike Cersei, Donnel was the true heir of the Westerlands, a position Addam could not afford to offend.
In his mind, Addam realized that if Donnel's identity remained hidden, he would only serve as a hostage, enduring some suffering until the ransom was paid, after which he would return home. However, if his identity was revealed, Donnel would be as good as dead—Joffrey would have him killed for sure!
When Addam was in Casterly Rock, he had overheard Tywin's conversations with his brother. Now that the king's illness was known across the kingdom, the first heir to the throne was Stannis, followed by Renly. Their respective supporters were already maneuvering for the throne. If Donnel's identity was exposed, he would be branded as a fraud, a false prince, much like the plot to eliminate him in King's Landing. With Renly's dragons, Donnel would have no chance of survival, and no one could save him.
"You," the wildling leader crouched down and slapped Addam's face sharply.
"Tell the great Lord Tywin that his daughter and these nobles will stay with me for a month. Once the ransom is paid, they go free. If the time passes, I will cook them and eat them!"
"Which tribe are you from? Where can I find you if I return?" Addam asked, desperate.
"North of Brightmoon Mountain, the Milk Snake Tribe!" the leader replied, raising his axe. With that, he and his warriors left, taking their spoils with them, leaving Addam in his underpants.
The conflict ended with the sound of bones crunching under the crocodiles' jaws. The wildlings allowed Addam to return alone, leaving the rest of the timing up to him.
The prisoners, bound by ropes around their necks and hands, were grouped together in fives. As they climbed the steep mountain, the ropes ensured that no one could escape. Should one fall from the cliff, the others would be dragged down with him, either to pull them back up or to fall to their deaths together.
---
Meanwhile, about ten miles away, Robb Stark and his company, driving seven or eight wagons, were heading toward the North, along King's Road.
Jorah, driving the lead cart, looked around, puzzled. "I passed through here years ago, and there were crocodiles all around the water, but today I don't see any."
"Maybe the water level has risen, or they are digging holes to prepare for winter," Robb suggested.
In the front of the cart sat Robb, his wife Seran Farman, and Jorah. The carts were open, and they wore light clothing.
Feeling the cold, Seran wrapped her arms around herself. Robb rummaged through a box in the cart and pulled out a thick fur coat, handing it to her. "It's getting cold, put this on."
Seran slid the coat over her shoulders, pulling the collar around her face so only her eyes and golden hair showed. She nuzzled the soft fur of the collar, enjoying the smooth and warm feeling. "It's been months in Tyrosh. I almost forgot what it feels like to wear something this warm."
"Here," Robb also found a coat for Jorah.
"Thanks," Jorah replied, wearing the coat before asking, "Robb, do you think Lord Eddard will support Lord Wright's proposal?"
Robb thought for a moment. "It's a solution with no good options. We can't just let the people in our lands starve. I'm not sure what the people beyond the Wall think of it."
The North was mostly populated by descendants of the First Men, many of whom, older folk especially, clung to ancient traditions and refused to leave their ancestral lands. After a handful of settlers went to Tyrosh, no ships had returned to the North. Wright's proposal was for Eddard to release the news of the vampires beyond the Wall, spreading panic and encouraging people to leave their lands.
"You know, Robb," Jorah continued, speaking of his sister, "Dacey has lived in Tyrosh for quite a while now. She's been appointed a knight by Nymeria. She's been trying to convince me to let the people from Bear Island move south."
Unlike before, Bear Island now controlled the largest fleet in the northwest seas. Jorah, who had long been involved in trade, kept up with news from all over. His thoughts had changed significantly after spending time with Tyrion, Wright, and others.
Jorah was currently the North's Lord most eager to lead his people south. When winter truly arrived, the lands of the North would be impossible to farm, and the Bear Island waters would freeze over. If the maesters' calculations were correct, the harsh winter would last for ten years. Without moving south, the population of the North would dwindle to a mere tenth of its current size.
Jorah was a vassal of Eddard Stark, and by extension, the people of Bear Island belonged to the Lord of the North. Much like how some people had moved to Tyrosh before, if Eddard did not issue an order, it would be a crime for even a Lord to move his people without permission, punishable by the loss of noble titles and death.
"Robb, have you ever seen a vampire?" Seran, clever as ever, didn't ask Robb about the policies regarding vampires, but whether he had ever seen one. From his brief responses, Seran was able to piece together some information.
Robb replied, "I've never seen one with my own eyes, but I know all their weaknesses and how to kill them quickly."
"Did your teacher tell you that?" Seran tilted her head, looking at Robb.
Robb nodded, then, considering that Seran might not know about events from the past, he decided to explain in more detail:
"A few years ago, during the battle for Tyrosh, my graduation ceremony took place just before the war. At that time, Master Wright gave the famous Valyrian steel sword, Dark Sister, to Ashara, and he gave Jon and me each a book of magic. Jon and I swapped and read each other's books. The contents were spells that Master Wright developed specifically for our personalities and traits. In my book, there were also descriptions of strange creatures and how to deal with them."
"Was there a vampire in the book? So your teacher knew about them ahead of time." Seran now wore an expression that clearly conveyed the thought that Master Wright had intentionally unleashed the vampires.
Robb chuckled at her surprised face, knowing his wife was intelligent but still too young and inexperienced to consider all the possibilities. He reached out and pinched Seran's smooth white cheek.
"Don't overthink it. There's nothing strange about it, really. Over the past few months, you've gotten familiar with Qyburn in King's Landing, right?"
"He always has a skeleton walking around with him. It's so creepy!" Seran said, recalling how much she feared Qyburn in Tyrosh. She would always keep her distance whenever she saw him.
"Hahaha," both Robb and Jorah laughed.
Qyburn was extremely gifted and mastered the theories of all schools of magic, but he was particularly fond of necromancy. He always had a skeleton soldier following him around, proudly flaunting it. Not just Seran, but Qyburn's reputation was enough to make many young girls stop crying in his presence.
After laughing for a while, Robb grew serious and said, "Conjuring magic can open doors to other worlds. It's just one type of magic, but there's more to magic than just humans. You've seen the Children of the Forest and the dragons, and although we've never seen the Others beyond the Wall, from what I've heard from our teacher and the Children of the Forest, the prevailing belief in the magical community is that the Others are also powerful magic users. So, it wouldn't be strange if they used magic to summon creatures like vampires from other realms."
"Now I understand. Magic really is amazing," Seran marveled.
The world of magic seemed incredibly mysterious to ordinary people, like two separate circles. It wasn't that magicians were unwilling to share knowledge; rather, the most basic entry-level knowledge couldn't be fully understood without magic. The deeper secrets were naturally incomprehensible to those without power.
Robb then leaned in closer to Seran and whispered something in her ear. Soon, Seran's pale face turned bright red, and Jorah, driving the cart, thought the two had grown restless and turned his head to give them privacy.
Seran, not wanting Jorah to misunderstand, quickly spoke up. "Your teacher is really strange. He specifically created a book just for you, but he didn't stop you from letting others see it. He even wrote in the prologue that every holder of the book must make sure their spouse also remembers it. Is your teacher afraid that your bloodline might die out?"