Brynden. Tully. His weather-beaten face looked extremely serious.
He looked at Robin. Leger next to him, and then turned to Suleiman who sat down across the long table:
"What are your demands for negotiation?"
Suleiman sat on the chair, tapping his fingers lightly on the table, making a dull sound.
A smile appeared on his face. The smile seemed so calm and he answered simply:
"I have no claim to his land."
"Return my land, agree on a ransom for the captives in my hands, and rebuild it for me Foulkeep."
This answer stunned both Blackfish and Robin. It was indeed a very refreshing request.
Suleiman glanced at the two of them and continued, "I said, it is not me who has always refused to negotiate, but House Legg."
"I don't like war, sergeant."
He paused, his tone was as relaxed as if he were talking about the weather, and he spread his hands, his posture appearing more sincere.
"If Riverrun is willing to make a guarantee or give me an order, I can withdraw the troops immediately without getting the result of the negotiation."
"If you doubt my sincerity, I am willing to go to Riverrun alone and sit down with Roger. Leger to discuss this matter with Lord Hoster."
"If necessary, it will help the negotiations. I will lead the army to withdraw from Willow Town tomorrow."
Brynden squinted his eyes like a seasoned hound, carefully examining the young man in front of him, but only found sincerity and calmness:
"As for troop withdrawal, there is no need for it at the moment."
"But tomorrow, I need to enter the inner fort, meet Roger. Leger, listen to his explanation on this matter, and agree on the terms of negotiation. Do you have any opinions?"
Suleiman nodded slightly, stood up, and clapped his hands.
"Of course, Sir."
"I accept all decisions of Riverrun."
He turned to the guard beside him and raised his voice a little higher.
"You two have come a long way and have a hard time."
"Just have a good rest here tonight. I have arranged the best room and dinner for you."
"We must entertain our guests well and bring out the best wine in Willow Town's cellar."
The guard bowed and retreated. Suleiman looked at the envoy again, his smile not diminishing.
"I hope you can convince the stubborn Roger. Leger."
"I still have some things to do, let's take a first step."
The negotiation seemed to have achieved an unexpected breakthrough, and the tense atmosphere instantly became relaxed. In addition to Blackfish and Robin, more than twenty soldiers from Riverrun all relaxed their brows. They did not expect that their attitude would be so respectful and that the journey would go so smoothly.
Looking at Suleiman who turned to leave, Brynden turned to look at Robin: "What do you think of this kid?"
Robin Legg, touched his bald head, felt a little embarrassed, and had to admit. "I was respectful to Riverrun, and even offered the Valyria sword instead of keeping it privately."
Late at night, the moonlight shines like a thin layer of frost on the walls of the Willow Town inner castle.
The night wind blew by, bringing with it a biting chill, Suleiman was wrapped tightly in his outer robe.
He ordered Bryn behind him. His voice was not loud, but it penetrated the wind. "Bring it over here."
Several soldiers came forward carrying a stretcher. Lying on the stretcher was a corpse. The corpse was wearing House Legg knight's full body armor. The breastplate was engraved with the family emblem of the weeping willow.
Suleiman looked at the soldiers and smiled in the night, "Let him be more decent."
The soldiers placed Jarell. Leger's body in an open space under the inner fort wall, arranged his armor, and placed the family sword that belonged to him in his clenched hand.
More torches were lit, illuminating the stage of death below the city.
The soldiers silently inserted torches into the soil and formed a circle around the corpse.
The swaying light of the fire illuminated the young corpse vividly, making the whole scene look like a strange and evil sacrifice.
Suleiman turned around and said to the soldiers, "Let the soldiers shout."
The soldier looked at Suleiman, waiting for his words.
"Just shout, Jarell. Leger is dead."
"Riverrun's envoy has arrived. To show his sincerity in the negotiations, he will return his son's body."
Soon, wild and loud shouts pierced the tranquility of the night, and they smashed against the stone wall of the inner castle one after another.
"Riverrun's envoy has arrived. To show our sincerity in negotiating, we will return your young master's body."
"Jarell. Leger is dead!"
"The young master of the Leger family is dead!"
"Come out and see your heir!"
"Roger. Leger! Your son is dead! Take the body back!"
"Your son is dead!!"
The anxious and hungry soldier on the city wall forced himself up and looked down. The sudden fire outside the city gate made him wake up instantly.
He squinted his eyes, trying hard to see what it was. When he recognized the human figure lying on the white cloth in the center of the fire, a chill rushed from the soles of his feet to the sky.
He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His throat seemed to be strangled by an invisible hand.
More and more soldiers were awakened. They got up from their sleep, gathered behind the walls, and looked down in horror. Their whispers merged into a metaphorical noise, and panic spread silently among the crowd.
An officer in charge of the night watch turned pale. He rushed down the tower and rushed to the lord's room.
"My lord!! My lord!!!"
He even forgot to knock on the door and knocked open the heavy wooden door.
Roger. Leger was walking anxiously when he heard the words and turned around suddenly. He was also awakened by these sudden noises. He heard the meaning.
But he couldn't believe it, his eyes were bloodshot.
The officer knelt down with a plop and buried his head very low. "Master Jarell's body...:
Roger. Leger jumped up like a scorpion and grabbed the officer by the collar. "Nonsense!!"
"That's a lie! It's that bastard's trick! How could my son die?!"
The officer was trembling all over and did not dare to raise his head. He just repeated, "The torch is shining... many people have seen it..."
1
Roger. Leger pushed him away, his chest heaving violently.
He yelled angrily, but his heart felt like it was being held by a cold hand, throbbing in pain.
He put on a cloak, with his hood pulled down low, and climbed up to the arrow stack of the inner castle in the dark. Without making any noise, like a thief, he quietly peered down through the gaps in the stone wall.
The fire was soaring into the sky, and right where the fire was the brightest, a body wearing family armor lay quietly.
He put on that armor for his son with his own hands, and that sword was his adult gift to his son.
Under the firelight, Jarell's face was as pale as paper, his eyes were closed tightly, as if he was just sleeping, his only son, his heir.
Roger. Leger felt that the blood all over his body had solidified instantly, and his legs went weak. If the soldiers beside him hadn't been able to catch him with quick eyesight and quick hands,
He will fall directly backwards from the city wall.
He is so familiar with him, he is his son, he is really his son.
A roar that didn't sound like a human voice erupted from the depths of his throat, full of beast-like pain and despair.
"My son! My Jarell!"
He tore his suddenly gray hair like crazy, and banged his head against the wall of the castle, making a dull thumping sound.
He waved his fists and beat his chest hard, as if this would relieve the severe pain in his heart. Tears and snot covered his face, crying like a helpless child.
"They killed my son!"
"They killed my son!"
"Suleiman! You devil! You devil!"
"I curse you! I curse you!"