iron throne of ice and fire

Chapter 637 Crigamburg
"Let's find something to eat. I'm so hungry I could eat a whole cow..."

As he spoke, Tyrion suddenly stopped and turned to Bronn: "Where's my purse?"

Sir Bronn grinned broadly, then gave an elegant bow: "Have you forgotten? You have hired me, this brave and fearless mercenary."

Tyrion stared blankly at Bronn for a moment, then let out a painful howl.

Seeing this, Sir Bronn could not hide the schadenfreude on his face: "Thank you again, generous sir."

"Oh—I want to quit drinking, and I ask the Seven Gods to be my witnesses."

Tyrion patted his pockets, his only consolation being... there were still some golden dragons left.

He rubbed his face and took a few quick steps: "By the way, you said you saw Pod?"

Podrick Payne, fourteen years old, Tyrion's former squire.

Walking happily beside Tyrion, Ser Bronn nodded: "That's right, he's an auxiliary soldier in the royal army, responsible for taking care of the horses. He's a very popular stable boy in Winterfell these days."

Tyrion paused slightly. Pod was indeed alive. Thank you, His Majesty Grin, for your mercy!

Hearing this good news, Tyrion's pain at losing the golden dragon lessened somewhat: "Oh, let's go see the boy."

After taking a few steps, he suddenly asked, "You just said that Pod is very popular?"

"I heard..."

Ser Bronn shrugged: "...The prostitutes of Winterfell eagerly await his visit every day, and he eats and sleeps there without having to spend a single penny."

"free?!"

Tyrion roared in anguish once more, "Why are they so generous? Why!"

His expression was extremely serious: "There's definitely a conspiracy here. Come on, quicken your pace. We need to interrogate Pod properly. We must get every detail!"

Sir Bronn nodded in agreement: "Yes, wise sir, we must interrogate him thoroughly and pull the little fellow out of the fire."

They exchanged glances, both burning with a fierce jealousy that seemed capable of melting the snow of Winterfell.

……

Hmph, Arya isn't innocent at all.
Her mother is becoming increasingly biased towards her younger sister!

As Sansa Stark stormed out of the main castle, a man's voice, like the scraping of rusty patches, reached her ears.

"Miss Stark, watch your step."

Sansa paused slightly, then felt a wave of fear wash over her. If she hadn't heard the warning, she would have almost missed a step and fallen awkwardly.

"Thank you, Sir Clegane."

Sandor Clegane drew near; he was so tall that Sansa had to look up at him.

Although she was grateful, she quickly lowered her eyes; the man's appearance was truly terrifying.

The Hound moved its lips, withdrew its slightly raised arm, and silently stepped aside to make way for Sansa.

Lady Sansa nodded slightly and continued down the stone steps, followed by her maids who were slightly out of breath as they found their mistress.

Although they were wearing cloaks, Sansa's slender figure could still be vaguely seen. As they watched their figures gradually disappear into the distance, Ser Monton, who had been silent all along, suddenly spoke up: "Sandor, don't you dislike being called a knight?"

The Hound's silence did not diminish Monton's curiosity at all: "This is the second time. Miss Stark called you that last time too (Chapter 621)."

After another moment of silence, the hound finally responded, "She's afraid of me."

Sir Monton scratched his cheek sheepishly: "She's like a lady from the South; they all like handsome knights."

The hound withdrew its gaze: "A delicate flower loves a delicate flower."

Upon hearing this, Monton chuckled and said, "You'll definitely be popular if you go to Crab Claw Peninsula; the women there prefer strong men."

He added, “I plan to find a wife on the Crab Claw Peninsula. The ladies in the South are too thin. Only strong women can give birth to strong sons.”

"Sir, what you say makes sense."

After a pause, the hound glanced at the gray sky above and said, "It's almost time. I'm going to see His Majesty."

……

According to the laws of the seven kingdoms, aside from the King's Guard, no one is allowed to carry weapons when meeting the king. However...

As the Hound prepared to remove his sword, Ser Brienne Tarth opened the door for him, as His Majesty Green had specifically instructed.

Brienne's clear blue eyes couldn't hide her emotions; the only disguise she knew was to keep a blank expression.

Their eyes met, and the hound, unusually, thought to himself... This was a strong woman, the type Sir Mundon liked.

Nodding slightly to her, the hound didn't bother asking why he didn't need to leave his sword behind. He simply lifted his large foot and went inside.

Inside the study, His Majesty the King stood before a long table, gazing intently at the map spread out on it.

Hearing his commotion, King Green simply beckoned his hounds over.

Stopping a few steps away, the hound placed his hand on his chest and bowed: "Your Majesty, you called me."

Out of the corner of his eye, the Hound glanced at the map on the table and saw the familiar Westerlands, the land that once belonged to the Lannisters.

Crash———

The king personally picked up the wine jug and poured wine, then gently pushed a full wine glass aside, and his voice followed: "I have received intelligence that a group of the Mountain's former followers have occupied Clegane Castle, and they are harassing people like a band of robbers."

Fort Clegane is located southeast of Casterly Rock and legally belongs to Sandor Clegane.

After a pause, the Hound picked up his wine glass and took a sip: "Your Majesty, they are a rabble."

"They may not be able to breach the nobles' castles, but they can become the nightmare of the people of the West."

Green's gaze slowly swept across the map: "Before they commit any more and greater crimes in the West, I intend to send men to hang them all."

He then looked up at the Hound, his gaze still unmistakably intense: "My choice is you, Ser Sandor Clegane."

"Yes, sir. I will obey your command."

After a pause, the Hound added, "I am not a knight, Your Majesty."

Green smiled. "I have signed the decree. You are Gregor Clegane's sole heir. Clegane Castle is yours."

The hound stirred, and its hoarse voice rang out: "So it turns out the Mountain's men seized my home."

Then he bowed to the king and said, "Your Majesty, thank you for your gift."

"Treating those petty thieves was just a side effect..."

Green drew a rough circle on the land near Criganburg with his finger: "These places have temporarily become no man's land, and the people have no knights to protect them."

Staring at the map, he put his hands behind his back and muttered, "All of this land is suitable for farming..."

After a pause, Green looked over and said, "I plan to merge them into one territory. Can Clegane take good care of the people in this territory?"

The hound's gaze narrowed slightly. The land was as big as a count's territory. Why was His Majesty the King being so generous to him?

As the Hound fell into thought, Green's voice continued: "Sandor Clegane, do three things for me."

"My first concern is for the safety of Sir Harris Swivel. He is a hero of the kingdom, and if anything happens to him, it will affect the dignity of the royal family."

Green tapped the edge of the table with his fingers: "I want you to protect him."

The hound paused, then asked, "Did Sir Swift also seize someone else's home?"

The hound analogy was amusing, and Green couldn't help but chuckle again: "Greed made him forget the danger."

Before the hound could ask any questions, he said directly, "Settle him in Clegane Castle for now. When you leave the West, release him back to his home and tell him it is the king's order."

King Green I's unexpected "frankness" reminded the hound of the late king he had once served...

Joffrey was also very frank, but His Majesty Green's frankness was full of goodwill, an intuition the Hound had developed in the chaotic court.

The hound's grey eyes, hidden in twisted scars, flickered slightly: "Your Majesty, when should I leave the Western Frontier?"

"This is the second task I want to tell you about."

Green slowly moved his feet: "If nothing unexpected happens, a great battle that the West cannot afford to miss will break out in the North."

(End of this chapter)