The Mountain of Ice and Fire

“You're a Westerlander, daring to risk your life to save Lord Eddard?” Elrin said, his eyes fixed on the Mountain, wary.

“Any risk depends on whether the reward is worth it. Your oath of loyalty is one reward that makes me willing to save Lord Eddard, but it's far from enough.”

“What else do you want?”

“I want an equal exchange. How much is Eddard Stark's life worth? It's something you can't afford. Elrin, consider carefully whether you'll kneel or not.”

“What if I refuse?”

“If I get no reward before saving Lord Eddard, I'll likely give up. Going to the Red Keep to save someone is a capital offense to Lord Tywin. Would you risk your life to save someone without any guarantee of reward?”

Elrin was silent.

“You refuse to believe Eddard is in the black cells, or that Robert is dead. You're foolish. If not for these events, my tricking you into swearing fealty would be useless. You'd flee at any moment, or even seize the chance to attack me. I have little patience or interest in working with fools.”

“What do you plan to do with us?”

“Keep the useful, kill the useless.”

“If I don't kneel and swear fealty, you'll kill me?”

“Not necessarily. If you can prove your usefulness in other ways, I won't kill you. But if you're useless, I will. I don't feed idlers.”

Elrin was silent again.

“Lord Eddard discovered that Joffrey I is the son of Cersei and Jaime, and that Prince Tommen and Princess Myrcella are also Lannister blood, with golden hair and green eyes. According to the law, King Robert has no heir, so the rightful heir is Stannis Baratheon. Eddard wanted to crown Stannis, so Cersei and Joffrey threw him in prison. Do you understand now?”

Elrin was shocked, unable to move.

The information was too incredible, catching him completely off guard.

The Mountain stared at Elrin. “The quick wits and foolishness of Northerners are as stubborn as your frozen soil.” With a clang, the Mountain drew his short sword, looking calmly at Elrin.

Killing the useless, witless, and indecisive is no loss.

Elrin stared at the Mountain, the Northerner's courage quite admirable.

“Mountain, if I swear fealty to you, how long will I serve?”

“You and your twenty guards, of course, it is for life,” the Mountain said calmly. “During the hunt, none of the Northmen were killed or injured. That's no coincidence. I gave the order beforehand. I'm risking my life for Eddard's. Whether I succeed or fail, my life is yours forever. I'm willing to risk my life to save Lord Eddard. Are you afraid?” The Mountain's dagger gleamed.

“I don't know what fear is. Mountain, I can submit, but first, you must guarantee that what you say is true; second, I must personally participate in the rescue of Lord Eddard; and third, I won't help you kill, burn, harm women and children, or do anything evil.”

“As you wish!” The Mountain sheathed his dagger with a whoosh.

The Mountain didn't need to draw his sword to kill Elrin.

But drawing the sword, with its bright flash, could help the stubborn, simple Northerner's mind become calm and nimble! For example, after the Mountain drew his sword, Elrin could more easily grasp the key points and make the choice the Mountain expected.

“Kneel and swear!” The Mountain sat on the chair, immovable as a mountain, imposing without anger.

Elrin slowly knelt.

If he didn't submit now, he would die. There was no third option. Even the most foolish person would know to choose survival, hoping to rescue Lord Eddard.

The Mountain didn't give Elrin much choice.

Uselessness meant death.

“What I've told you today is confidential. Leaking a word will cost you, me, and Lord Eddard our lives. It's no small matter. You must swear in the name of the Old Gods and the New, and in the name of your family, not to reveal a single word of our conversation to anyone.”

“Yes, Lord Mountain.”

After a few heartbeats, Elrin swore fealty to the Mountain and was made the Mountain's personal guard captain, with authority above Bernie, the master of ventriloquism.

*

“Lord Thoros,” the Mountain said, “Your friend King Robert is dead. Did your flames tell you that?”

“I only pray; I don't read prophecies in the flames.”

“Then I tell you King Robert is dead, Lord Eddard is in the dungeons, the Seven Kingdoms will be in chaos. Where will you go?”

“I will respect the will of the new king and continue to serve the realm.”

“Serve the realm? If the Westerlands are independent, the Vale is independent, the Reach is independent, the Iron Islands are independent, the Stormlands are independent, which realm will you serve?”

“The Baratheon family.”

“If three kings appear in the Baratheon family: Stannis Baratheon, Renly Baratheon, Joffrey Baratheon, which king will you serve?”

Thoros's eyes darted around. He had never considered this question.

“The rightful heir.”

“The legal heir isn't necessarily the true heir, and the true heir isn't necessarily legal.”

“I don't understand, Lord Mountain.”

“Stannis Baratheon, Renly Baratheon, and Joffrey Baratheon will all claim the throne. Who will you serve?”

“The rightful heir, Joffrey Baratheon. After King Robert's death, I am naturally his rightful courtier.”

“Very well, follow me for now. When the opportunity arises, I'll allow you to leave and return to court as your royal courtier. How does that sound?”

“I don't believe you'll really let me go.”

“I won't kill you, and I will let you go. I swear it on the honor of House Clegane. Joffrey I is Lord Tywin's grandson, and I am Lord Tywin's vassal. You and I will be courtiers in the same court. Naturally, I won't kill you.”

“Then what about the case of Amory Lorch? After investigation, he committed a capital crime. Lord Eddard ordered him stripped of all his income and lands. I must bring him to justice.”

“Do you think the new king's orders will align with Lord Eddard's?”

“I'm not sure.”

“Very well. When the time comes, I'll let you and Lord Beric leave.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I'm actually a good person.”

Thoros wanted to laugh but found nothing funny. Whether the Mountain's words were believable or not, at least the Mountain wouldn't kill him for now, which relieved him.

*

“Ser Gregor.”

“Yes, Lord Mountain.”

“Want to live or die?”

“Live!”

“Kneel, swear fealty to me, and you can live.”

“Yes, Lord Mountain!”

*

As for Beric Dondarrion, he was loyal and brave, and of high noble status, the Lord of Blackhaven. It was difficult to subdue such a person with threats or bribes. He had a psychological superiority over a vicious dog like the Mountain. Beric wasn't afraid of death, so he couldn't be threatened with it.

Thoros, though loyal, was a red priest who drank, ate meat, and killed people, having abandoned religious dogma. He wouldn't have noble superiority or moral condescension towards the Mountain. Persuading him to stay temporarily by following his wishes, retreating to advance, had a clear effect.

Elrin was equally loyal. The guards around Eddard were greatly influenced by him. Using Eddard's life and death to exchange for Elrin's loyalty was feasible. The final negotiation proved the Mountain's prior judgment. As for Ser Gregor, he was afraid of death, so threatening him with death solved the problem immediately.

People who fear death and are greedy are the easiest to deal with!

*

In the Red Keep dungeon, a man's muttering never ceased.

He regretted and cursed his own stupidity.

Later, the words became unclear, but he tried to make sounds, to stay awake, and to fight against the darkness and the invisible passage of time.

“I must stay rational. They won't kill me. They would have killed me long ago.” He told himself, mumbling until exhausted, then fell into a deep sleep.

This man was naturally Eddard Stark.

After being thrown into the black cells, he had carefully considered the Westerlands' situation. Once news of his capture spread, Catelyn would surely summon the lords of the North to march south, the lords of the Riverlands would rise in response, and the Vale lords would take up arms on Catelyn's side.

The Martell family of Dorne had always been at odds with the Lannisters of the Westerlands, with a blood feud from sixteen years ago yet to be settled. Renly Baratheon of Storm's End and Stannis Baratheon of Dragonstone would also raise armies to fight for the throne. The secret letter he ordered his guard to send to Stannis must have arrived.

Cersei wouldn't dare kill him. Catelyn held her brother, Tyrion Lannister, the Imp.

The sound of the iron gate opening startled him. He weakly opened his eyes. The white light stabbed into the darkness, hurting his eyes. He closed them.

An iron water jug was thrown at his feet, the cold water splashing on his face. He didn't remember how long he had gone without food. He was weak, but the cold water gave him strength. He grabbed the jug and desperately poured it down his throat until he choked. The water flowed down his chin into his beard, dripping onto his chest, wetting his linen tunic.

“Can you give me something to eat?” Eddard found his voice small and weak.

The answer was a toe. The jailer kicked Eddard down. Eddard didn't feel the pain in his chest, only weakness and soreness.

The jailer was a gaunt man, clad in black armor, wearing a spiked helmet. Eddard couldn't see his face clearly. Eddard continued to plead. The jailer snatched the iron water jug, pushed Eddard down, turned, and left. With a clang, the iron gate closed, and the light disappeared. The darkness surrounded Eddard like thick juice.

The second time the jailer came to bring water, Eddard drank his fill and no longer asked for food. “My daughter…” he said, “Please tell me about… my daughter…” The answer was still a toe, this time kicking Eddard in the forehead. Eddard fell, hitting the hard stone wall, the pain almost causing him to faint.

The jailer took the water jug, left without a word, and slammed the door shut. The rattling of chains came as the chains wrapped around the doorknob.

Before Eddard fell unconscious, he heard his own voice mumbling: Give me something to eat… please, give me something to eat… my daughter… my two daughters…

“I didn't bring you food!” a voice said. “I brought you wine.”

Eddard didn't move. He thought it was a hallucination.

“Lord Eddard, come, take a drink of wine,” a familiar voice said.

Eddard thought for a long time before remembering who this voice was. “Varys?”

“Yes, my lord. I didn't bring food. I only brought wine,” Varys's voice said.

Eddard opened his eyes. There was a warm firelight in front of him, illuminating the darkness. The person in front of him was fat, with a brown face and a full beard, a black stubble. He was clad in leather armor, wearing a spiked helmet, smelling of sweat and wine.

“Varys, what kind of… magician are you?” Eddard took the wineskin.

“A magician who preserves his life and secrets. If I weren't good at disguise, deception, reading faces, and being opportunistic, I would have died long ago. My lord, your fate today chills me. If honesty and loyalty lead to such an end, I will stay far away from them.”

“You speak frankly!” Eddard said with some irony.

“Of course. My lord, won't you drink?”

“Did you poison Robert with this kind of wine too?”

“We? I didn't give Robert his wine. Lord Eddard, do you think wine killed Robert? But it wasn't. It was your mercy.” Varys smiled. He took the wineskin from Eddard's hand, took several gulps, and handed it back to Eddard. “Eunuchs have no honor and never gain anyone's trust, Lord Eddard. I'm used to it.”

Eddard began to drink.

Varys's words stabbed into his heart like knives.

His mercy killed Robert. He took the initiative to find Cersei, telling her to leave quickly, but Cersei didn't leave. She said, in the game of thrones, you either win or you die. There is no middle ground.

Eddard lost. The king died, and the Hand was buried with him—this result stemmed from his mercy, his mercy towards Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen.

“Your courage and boldness combined don't equal half your foolishness,” Varys said with a sorrowful tone. “You killed the king, harmed yourself, all your servants, and… one of your daughters.”

“One daughter?”

“Yes, Sansa Stark is now living with Queen Cersei. No one has found your other little daughter, Arya. My little birds, the City Watch, the Queen's people, can't find her at all. She escaped, Lord Eddard.”

Eddard drained half the wineskin in one gulp. He leaned against the wall and began to gasp. “Lord Varys, can you save me?”

“I can… but I dare not… If there's the slightest carelessness, the Queen will launch an investigation, and all the clues will point to me, and then my head will be stuck on a spear… I can save you, but I dare not,” Varys said.

“In that case, thank you for the wine. Leave quickly.”

“But someone wants to save you, Lord Eddard,” Varys squatted down. “You currently have two choices. First, acknowledge Joffrey's legitimate claim, denounce Stannis and Renly as rebels, admit that you wanted to seize power after Robert's death while Joffrey was still young, in exchange for saving Sansa's life and wearing the black to live out your days on the Wall.”

“What's the second choice?”

"Someone will use the secret passage built by Maegor the Cruel to rescue you, but you might fall into the hands of someone even more terrifying."

"Someone more terrifying? More terrifying than death and being wrongly accused?"

"Possibly!"

"I want to try. So, what are the terms of the person who's coming to save me? Can I afford the price that terrifying person asks? What are his terms?"

Thank you to [Big Saber Liu Wu] for the reward. Thank you, handshake.