The Mountain of Ice and Fire

“Ser Ilyn… even if Lord Tywin were here… if it could save Jaime Lannister… you’d have to hand over Ice.” Podrick stammered. His hand gripping the sword hilt was slick with cold sweat.

Bronn loosened his grip on the horn-handled knife, then tightened it again. It was a small adjustment before striking, like a swordsman flexing his wrist and making a few flourishes before a fight, to ensure his hand, elbow, wrist, and shoulder were in sync with the sword. Long-term practice created such instinctive habits.

“Ser Ilyn, I must take Ice,” Tyrion said.

Ilyn remained motionless, unable to speak, his eyes clearly conveying—I don’t trust you, little imp. Are you going to step over my dead body?

Killing Ilyn was absolutely out of the question!

The Hand of the King killing the King's Justice for Ice?! That would be a city-wide scandal—and then the result would be—Ice on the Mountain’s back? The consequences of that would be severe. Besides, Ilyn Payne was a loyal servant of Lord Tywin. Since Robert Baratheon's time, Ilyn had been the presence of the Westerlands in the royal palace.

If things were truly aboveboard, Tyrion wouldn’t be here before dawn to take the sword.

“Saving Jaime needs to be done in secret,” Tyrion explained to Ilyn Payne.

Ilyn Payne stared at Tyrion with dead fish eyes, making Tyrion feel helpless. He said slowly, “Bronn!”

Bronn's right hand drew from his lower back, revealing a horn-handled knife, gleaming with a cold, sharp light…

Ilyn glanced indifferently at Tyrion, turned, and walked away, his back to Bronn.

Without hesitation, Bronn plunged the horn-handled knife into Ilyn's right arm.

Attacking from behind, devoid of any warrior's honor!

But it suited Bronn's character. Honor, in Bronn's eyes, was always a pile of bullshit.

Clang!

A crisp sound rang out as Podrick’s short sword struck Bronn’s knife.

Sparks flew. Bronn was furious, and backhanded Podrick across the face, sending him staggering back with a groan, blood gushing from his nose.

Bronn turned. “Pod, what the hell are you doing?”

“Ser Ilyn… he might be giving us the sword…” Podrick said through the pain, wiping away the gushing blood, “…give him a chance…”

Clang!

Ilyn Payne drew his greatsword, a bestial growl rumbling from his throat, like the roar of a beast whose territory had been invaded. Even a mute could make sounds. He lunged out like a whirlwind, his longsword slashing at Bronn.

Bronn retreated hastily. His horn-handled knife was too short to parry Ilyn's greatsword. Ilyn immediately gained the upper hand, bursting out of the room and spinning to strike.

Bronn and Podrick were both unable to block such a powerful sweeping blow, and stumbled clumsily, nearly colliding, narrowly dodging it.

Podrick scrambled back into a corner, three walls surrounding him, a dead end. His short sword was like a bread knife compared to Ilyn's greatsword.

And Bronn, with only a horn-handled knife, shorter than Podrick's short sword. He wasn't wearing a longsword.

Ilyn pursued Bronn viciously, hacking and slashing with his greatsword. He wasn't wearing armor, making him faster and more agile. Bronn, in full armor, didn't dare let the sword hit him even once. Ilyn Payne's greatsword could cleave through armor and sever an arm.

Bronn leaped nimbly, dodging perilously, Ilyn's greatsword constantly threatening his vital points. Podrick, recovering his senses, saw that their Hand of the King had already run to the corner of Hook Alley, and was almost out of sight. The Hand of the King's speed in retreating when things went south was truly something to behold. The dwarf’s short legs moved like a whirlwind as he fled.

Podrick rushed into the room and took down Ice from the wall.

But Hook Alley only had one way in, and no second way out. Hook Alley, as the name suggested, was a hook-shaped alley. The alley was narrow, and Bronn and Ilyn Payne were fighting in front, blocking his path.

Ice was a greatsword, cumbersome and difficult for Podrick to carry. He slung Ice diagonally across his back. The hilt towered above his head, and the tip of the scabbard almost scraped the ground.

He was a shy and introverted boy, with two virtues: loyalty and courage.

He thought Ilyn Payne's turning around might be a concession, after all, Tyrion's request was justified, to save Jaime. Ilyn, with all his reluctance, knew Jaime's position in Lord Tywin's heart. Ilyn Payne had been Lord Tywin's captain of the guard when Tywin was Hand of the King, and was utterly loyal to the Lord, obeying every command.

Ilyn's turning around might be to take the sword to attack, but it might also be to take the sword to hand over Ice. Bronn's attack caused Ilyn Payne to definitely take the greatsword from the wall to cut down Bronn.

Ice was the Stark family's ceremonial and execution sword. Because it was too long and heavy, no one could wield it with both hands to kill enemies on the battlefield. If Ilyn wanted to cut down Bronn, he could only take down his own greatsword to fight.

Bronn hadn't brought a longsword. The clever Tyrion believed that as long as they didn't carry longswords, Ilyn would see that they weren't there to fight. Tyrion knew that Ilyn had never respected him, and didn't trust him, but he wanted to resolve the problem as peacefully as possible.

Thus, Bronn had a horn-handled knife, and Podrick a short sword.

But Bronn's attack from behind undoubtedly angered Ilyn.

Ilyn didn't chase Podrick, only focusing on cutting down Bronn.

The greatsword was less flexible. Using a sword with both hands was not as nimble and quick as using one hand. Bronn was good at being flexible and adaptable, but he miscalculated one thing: Ilyn wasn't wearing armor, and without the burden of dozens of pounds, his speed became very fast.

Bronn could take a dangerous risk, and have a chance to kill Ilyn at close range, or hit a vital point, resulting in a mutual loss, but Tyrion's orders were to only slightly injure Ilyn, not to cripple him, let alone kill him.

This was difficult!

In the attack and parry of swords, it was already difficult to control the angle, strength, and position. Not being able to kill Ilyn meant that Bronn couldn't go all out.

The result was that Bronn jumped around like a monkey, constantly retreating, chased and cut down by Ilyn. Soon, Bronn was covered in a foul sweat and cold sweat.

A moment of carelessness, and Bronn would die!

He didn't dare kill Ilyn, but Ilyn dared to kill him.

To a knight, killing a mercenary was nothing!

Seeing that things were going badly, Bronn knew that if this continued, he would be cut down by this mute knight.

Bronn didn't want to die!

So Bronn decided to run.

Bronn turned and fled, but he underestimated Ilyn Payne's determination to kill him.

After Ilyn Payne's tongue was cut off, he became increasingly isolated. Over seventeen years, Ilyn had become an ingrained recluse. People who were extremely reclusive were very stubborn, and once they were offended, it was difficult to make them stop.

Bronn fled ahead, and Ilyn chased behind.

Tyrion saw Ilyn cutting down Bronn like a madman on the streets of Hook Alley, then Bronn finally couldn't resist, Bronn's horn-handled knife was very sharp, a close-quarters weapon, but it was too short, just the length of a small dagger, to fight against a greatsword, that was really… too disparate.

Tyrion didn't wait for Bronn to run over, and immediately fled first, and told Bronn not to follow him, he wanted Bronn to run in the opposite direction out of Hook Alley, so that Ilyn wouldn't cut him down as well.

Ilyn roared repeatedly, the mute's voice was very strange, an abnormal pronunciation, the strange roar echoed far in the early morning night sky, awakening the entire Hook Alley.

Ilyn chased out of Hook Alley, and saw a man riding a horse in front of him, a giant.

The Mountain!

The Mountain was also followed by a squad of cavalry.

It was a small team, seemingly patrolling the city.

The Mountain was the commander of the City Watch. Currently, apart from the Kingsguard, the City Watch was also under his temporary command.

But he couldn't control the King's Justice, Ilyn Payne.

Ilyn saw Bronn and Tyrion, both standing next to the Mountain's cavalry patrol.

Bronn was borrowing a sword from a cavalryman, he wanted to have a real sword fight with Ilyn. Being chased and cut down, Bronn was experiencing this for the first time in his life, and he felt very frustrated.

However, the cavalryman was very arrogant, his expression was cold, his eyes were cold, and he ignored Bronn's request to borrow a sword.

Every guard of the Mountain was a tough guy! Put on the street, they were the heads of thugs.

“Ser Ilyn, put down your sword,” the Mountain said coldly.

Ilyn glanced at the Mountain, ignored him completely, and swung his greatsword straight at Bronn.

Clang!

The Mountain drew his longsword, squeezed his legs, and the warhorse charged Ilyn, its front hooves raised high, the horseshoes kicking at Ilyn's face. Ilyn dodged quickly, and a greatsword swept in with the sound of wind. Ilyn had already dodged, but the Mountain's greatsword, plus the length of his arm, had a very wide range of attack. Bang, the greatsword struck Ilyn's shoulder, the shoulder bones cracking, and Ilyn flew out, falling into Hook Alley.

“Disturbing the peace at night, violating the law, chasing and killing the Hand's guard, defying the law, tie him up!” The Mountain shouted.

Alyn and Galahad jumped off their horses, and two guards also dismounted, rushing over to tie up Ilyn and push him in front of the Mountain.

Ilyn's right shoulder bones were shattered, the pain twisting his face. His eyes were fiery, but unfortunately, he couldn't incinerate the Mountain.

“Ser Ilyn, Hand of the King, as high officials of the Seven Kingdoms, engaging in a street brawl at night, violating national law, what is the matter?” The Mountain shouted sternly.

Tyrion, with all his resourcefulness, didn't expect the Mountain to be patrolling tonight, and to happen to come to Hook Alley.

Happen to? Tyrion's eyes narrowed slightly, suspicion rising?

As the dignified commander of the army, how could the Mountain personally come out to patrol at night, and at this time before dawn, this was probably not a coincidence, this was a deliberate coincidence.

A deliberate coincidence, a carefully designed coincidence!

So, the Mountain knew his every move?

Where were his ears and eyes?

Since Varys mysteriously ran away, the royal palace's intelligence system had fallen into paralysis. No one knew how Varys's 'little birds' operated like fire, after Varys disappeared, where his 'little birds' were, no one could understand. Perhaps Littlefinger understood, but Tyrion certainly didn't know.

“Lord Mountain…” Tyrion said—but the sound of footsteps rang out, Podrick came out with Ice on his back, interrupting Tyrion's words.

“So it's for a sword,” the Mountain shouted, “I recognize this sword, the Stark family's Ice. Eddard Stark was a rebel, launched a coup in King's Landing, and after failing, used extremely despicable means to escape. His sword is stolen goods, and should belong to the national armory, but unexpectedly, it was privately obtained by the King's Justice, and even caused a private fight between the Hand and the King's Justice, which is unreasonable and illegal. Podrick, come over!”

Podrick glanced at Tyrion. He and Bronn came out tonight to get the sword, and didn't know about Tyrion and the Mountain's deal.

Tyrion signaled with his eyes, and Podrick walked to the Mountain.

“Untie your sword and hand it over to me. With the enemy at the door, this sword should be returned to the armory, to be used by suitable people to kill enemies in battle, rather than to satisfy the private desires of the Hand and the King's Justice,” the Mountain said righteously.

Tyrion shrugged, noncommittal. Ilyn Payne hissed in his throat, struggling forward, his eyes staring at the Mountain, but unfortunately, he was held back by the guards. Pity he couldn't say a word, and couldn't even scold the Mountain.

Podrick looked at Tyrion again, and after receiving Tyrion's permission, he untied Ice and presented it to the Mountain with both hands.

The Mountain took it, drew the greatsword, clang, the sound of the sword leaving its scabbard echoed far in the night, the aftersound endless.

Just the sound of the sword leaving its scabbard made the Mountain feel that his two-meter greatsword was garbage.

“Good sword!” The Mountain exclaimed sincerely, his eyes glowing green.

He casually made a few flourishes with the sword. Ice was slightly shorter than his greatsword, but half the weight, but it was more resilient, stronger, and harder. The blade was close to his skin, with a needle-like sharpness.

The Mountain had played with countless swords, and this was the first time he had experienced the unparalleled sharpness of a truly supreme sword.

“The stolen sword now belongs to the armory. Hand of the King, do you have any objections?”

Armory?

The Mountain managed all the troops, the materials in the armory, weapons, armor and helmets, arrows, short crossbows, spears, and short daggers, which one was not at his disposal?

Tyrion's eyes flickered, feeling as if he was just a small link in the Mountain's plan to take the sword, this feeling was very uncomfortable.

“Lord Mountain is right, the Eddard rebel's stolen goods should belong to the armory, to be bestowed by Lord Mountain to suitable soldiers.”

The Mountain looked at Ilyn Payne: “Ser Ilyn, do you agree to return Ice to the armory?”

Ilyn was furious, the anger attacking his heart, shouting and gesticulating, rushing towards the Mountain, but unfortunately, he was held back by the guards. Blocking him were also Alyn and Galahad, the opportunity for him to approach the Mountain and seek death was taken away!

“Since Ser Ilyn also agrees, then it's decided. Hand of the King, Ser Ilyn, I'll let you off for this violation of law and street brawl, for the sake of being officials in the same court. Brothers, release Ser Ilyn, let's go.”

Clang!

Ice was sheathed, and placed on the Mountain's majestic back.

The famous sword Ice, from now on, changed hands.

The Mountain had made up his mind, even if he encountered the Stark family in the future, he had thought of a solution. Whether it was acting shamelessly, playing dumb, lying on the ground and making a scene, or moving with emotion and reasoning, in short, this famous sword would never be returned.

The sound of horses' hooves faded as the Mountain and his party moved further away, turning the corner and heading onto Steel Street.

Tyrion, Bronn, Podrick, and Ilyn Payne stood at the entrance to Hook Alley, silent as four statues…

Thank you to [Book Friend 20170627231845962] and [Chau534] for their support! Thank you, handshake!