The Mountain of Ice and Fire

The Mountain carefully folded the two apology letters with Edmure's signature and the family crest wax seal, and put them into his pocket.

Duke Hoster, who had been calm all along, had a slight grimace on his old face.

Maester Vyman felt very uncomfortable. He thought he could get away with it, but what he didn't expect was that the Mountain could read!

It wasn't a big deal for nobles to be literate, but the Mountain was... an exception!

The Mountain's illiteracy was as well known as his enormous size!

But what dumbfounded Maester Vyman was that the Mountain recognized every word he wrote, and even suggested modifying some of the wording.

With two bandits standing behind him, Maester Vyman had no choice but to modify some of the wording to make it even more embarrassing for Ser Edmure!

Maester Vyman glanced apologetically at his young master Edmure. Edmure was a good boy, but this time he really suffered a big loss.

Why did he have to provoke the Mountain?

Maester Vyman complained inwardly.

Maester Vyman packed up his paper and pen, and tapped the table lightly with one hand. The Mountain spoke, "Maester Vyman, wait a moment!"

"Yes, Ser Gregor!" Vyman obediently said. He steadfastly carried out Duke Hoster's policy of 'do as Ser Gregor asks first'.

"Duke Hoster, Ser Edmure, your gift of a thousand warhorses to me was out of guilt for insulting me, not because I forced you, right?"

"Yes!" Duke Hoster said.

"Humph!" Earl Edmure said.

"Maester Vyman, write this down!"

"Write what?"

"Write that the Tully family's gift of a thousand warhorses to the Clegane cavalry was out of guilt for Earl Edmure's humiliation of me, the Mountain, not because I, the Mountain, forced them," the Mountain said. Such shameless words were already very reasonable for the Mountain.

Maester Vyman looked at Edmure with embarrassment, and then looked at Duke Hoster.

Edmure's face was dejected, without luster, not speaking or expressing his opinion; Duke Hoster nodded.

Soon, under the Mountain's guidance, a statement from Earl Edmure Tully was written, equally embarrassing in triplicate, and the same humiliating words were expressed politely by the Mountain once again. He stated that this statement would also be sent to the King along with Edmure's apology letter.

Edmure's eyes were numb, staring blankly at a spot on the table.

The army of vassal lords outside Riverrun had been ordered to withdraw, because that was what Lord Mountain demanded. But Edmure knew that the vassal lords were only a few miles away, and had not really withdrawn.

Now that things had progressed to this point, Edmure wanted to die! But if he just died like this, he couldn't swallow this breath.

He would die with lingering resentment!

The Mountain folded the two statements from Earl Edmure again and put them into his inner pocket, and pressed them lightly with his hand.

Duke Hoster and Maester Vyman looked at the Mountain. The Mountain felt that Maester Vyman and Duke Hoster were a bit like two pitiful elementary school students waiting for the teacher to say class was dismissed. He looked at Edmure again, and Edmure was like a hopeless underachiever who had been abandoned by the teacher. Anyway, my grades are like this, teacher, you can do whatever you want. Asking parents to stand at the blackboard and write a self-criticism, whatever. Who's afraid of who? Does a tortoise fear a hammer?

"Bernie!" the Mountain said.

"Yes, my lord!"

"Go and bring back the food bag that Ser Edmure returned to us."

"Yes, Lord Mountain."

Duke Hoster and Maester Vyman were already accustomed to the fact that the Mountain's subordinates also called him 'Lord Mountain'. Birds of a feather flock together, and those who know etiquette and respect would not gather around a scoundrel like the Mountain.

But, what else did the Mountain want?

They could only wait anxiously!

Man is the cleaver, I am the fish! - This feeling must not happen again!

Hoster looked at Edmure, hoping that Edmure could learn and grow from this painful event. Edmure had no comment on Duke Hoster's gaze, lifeless. Duke Hoster's expectations were like a scoop of cold water, and he himself was like a dead pig.

Cold water scalds a dead pig - no reaction at all!

Bernie brought a food bag.

After driving away the Mountain at the kneeling-down station, Edmure threw the spoils aside and reveled, and did not even bother to check the Mountain's food bag. He and the noble children were more concerned about wine and prostitutes.

Duke Hoster and Maester Vyman looked at this ordinary food bag. Did the Mountain want to use this to ask for food? But thinking about it, what kind of person was the Mountain? He didn't kill Earl Edmure - Duke Hoster already wanted to thank him.

"This is salt!" The Mountain stuck his finger in the salt, dipped it on his lips and licked it, "Very delicious salt, Duke, you try it."

The Mountain pushed the salt in front of the Duke.

The Mountain didn't ask for food!

The Duke breathed a sigh of relief. He smiled and looked at the bag of salt, and was immediately stunned: the salt was very fine and white. He reached out his finger to try it, and the salt grains slipped from his finger, as fine as sand and as white as snow.

This was salt that the Duke had never seen before, as exquisite as a work of art.

"Maester, you try it too!" the Mountain said.

Maester Vyman's expression was already surprised. This Maester was an honest man, and his emotions were all on his face. The Mountain knew that the Tully family were basically good people, except for Lysa Tully. In this world of ice and fire, it was destined that good people would not live long!

Maester Vyman also slowly inserted his finger into the salt bag. When he lifted his finger, the salt grains slipped from his fingers like sand, each grain as white as snow. The Maester and the Duke tasted a little of the salt, and it was salty and fragrant, without the slight bitterness and astringency of the salt they were used to eating.

"Snow salt, unique to the West. Duke, open up the salt rights to us. Or, Casterly Rock and Riverrun can cooperate and make money together. Snow salt has no yellow particles and fine dregs in it, and no coarse particles like mineral salt. It is delicious for cooking and making soup, and there will be no more slight bitterness and astringency in the dishes and soup!"

"How to cooperate?" Duke Hoster immediately showed great interest.

Doing business was much more cost-effective than directly being robbed of thousands of stones of grain by the Mountain.

"You come to our West to buy snow salt, and then sell it to the Riverlands' large and small nobles and people."

"You produce the snow salt?"

"Yes, Duke Tywin has already sold snow salt far across the Narrow Sea. Duke, your Riverlands have many mineral salt ponds, we can also cooperate to produce snow salt together."

"How to cooperate?"

Duke Hoster tasted the snow salt again, which was delicious and had no bitterness or astringency.

"You provide the mineral salt ponds, and the West provides the technicians and miners. Of the sales profits of snow salt in the Riverlands, Riverrun gets 60% and the West gets 40%."

"We will not cooperate with the West on snow salt business," Edmure suddenly interjected, "We will not cooperate on any business."

The Mountain laughed loudly: "The River Road is the largest trade route between the Riverlands and Lannisport in the West. Lannisport has long been the most important port for the Riverlands' export of grain, wine, and fruit."

"We will go to Gulltown," Edmure said.

"Oh, okay!" The Mountain said, "Duke Hoster, this bag of snow salt is a gift to you, old man. I originally had several businesses to discuss with the Riverlands. Business, we cooperate together to make money, mutually beneficial, but since Earl Edmure does not agree, then okay, let's talk about the ransom issue according to the ancient rules of the nobility for thousands of years."

"What ransom issue?" Edmure asked indignantly. In fact, he was not so stupid as to be unwilling to end the entanglement with the Mountain in the form of business cooperation. This was a business negotiation technique. Saying no cooperation would make it easier to offer conditions that were more in line with his own interests later.

Edmure was moved the first time he saw the snow salt. As a young noble who was very particular about food, he had never seen such exquisite and translucent salt like beautiful jade.

"Duke Hoster is in my hands, Ser Edmure, how many gold dragons will you pay to redeem your father?" The Mountain said coldly, "Let me give you a reference price. I captured Ser Addam Shadd of House Shadd, and they paid a thousand gold dragons to redeem Ser Addam."

Edmure's heart skipped a beat. Talking about business with a scoundrel like the Mountain, any roundabout way was superfluous! Looking at the Mountain's eyes and momentum, the business negotiation had become a ransom negotiation!

Redeeming the lord of Riverrun in Riverrun, this... is really... absurd! Only a scoundrel like the Mountain could say it and think of it!

Edmure felt like he wanted to eat shit.

Facing the Mountain's coercion, he knew that he had to make an offer!

Must - make an offer!

If you don't accept a toast, then have a penalty drink first!