The cold river wind of the Blue Fork swept across Bronn's cheeks.
He leaned against a bare, dead tree, his chest heaving violently. Every breath tugged at the sword wound beneath his ribs, bringing stabbing pain.
Seven or eight corpses lay on the ground, some belonging to the other side, some to his own men. Blood flowed everywhere.
Bronn swept his gaze coldly over the surroundings. More than fifty figures formed a silent encirclement. They wore ordinary leather armor, but their stance and the way they held their swords carried the bearing of elite soldiers.
There were no sigils or objects on them to prove their identities. Only the killing intent in their eyes made everything painfully obvious.
Back at The Twins, when he had sensed something was wrong, he had immediately taken his men and broken away from Bana the Beggar's group while Bana the Beggar argued with the Frey soldiers guarding the river. Just as he had expected, they had not gone far before House Frey instantly changed its face, detaining both men and goods.
He had two choices: go north or south. The North was freezing as hell and offered few opportunities. The Lannister family fleet had been burned to ashes, so they surely would not keep hunting him. Thus, he had planned to head south. He had thought he would not run into the Lannister family, but when a man's luck turned bad, even drinking cold water could crack his teeth.
He was truly ridiculous. After successfully getting away from Valleydeep Town, he had actually sighed over how lucky he was, only to run into a ghost the very next moment.
Bronn spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva onto the mud stained red before him. "Damn it... even an old horse can stumble."
He recalled