Bronn (2)

Bronn took a huge bite of steak and washed it down with a gulp of strong liquor.

Leaning against a great tree, he enjoyed the food and full stomach he hadn't had in so long.

His eyes kept drifting toward this strange Riverlands army.

In the camp, fires blazed and smoke curled into the sky.

The soldiers took turns going to the town to enjoy special services.

Hopefully, the women would still be alive tomorrow morning.

Strange. Very strange.

This Riverlands army wasn't well equipped.

There were only a little over two hundred men.

But every one of them gave off a strange air of bloodlust.

They smelled of blood.

They weren't like noblemen's household guards, nor like conscripts from the smallfolk.

They lacked the arrogance of noblemen's guards, as well as the bewilderment, clumsiness, and fear of conscripts.

This time, he really hadn't done it on purpose.

In all his years wandering Westeros, he'd seen all kinds of people.

From Dorne to the North.

These people really seemed more like bandits.

Or mercenaries.

But every one of them was very rich!

And they actually paid for what they bought!

Bronn's cheek twitched.

He was always the one to make the first move, but this time, he'd genuinely been on the receiving end!

The six soldiers had spotted him.

They hadn't shouted or warned him.

They hadn't said a word before drawing their swords and charging at him.

They'd tried to cut him down.

And they'd practically fought each other for the chance to kill him!

Like hungry wolves fighting over food.

Right. Now he knew what this felt like!

A pack of wolves!

No, he had to get away as soon as possible!

These people didn't look like good news!

"Hey! What are you looking at?" A rough, nasal voice interrupted his scrutiny!

Bronn looked up. It was the messenger who'd been left with a nose streaming blood after Bronn beat him up.

He'd clearly washed his face, but the bruises and swelling were still shocking to see, and his eyes were full of anger.

Five equally furious soldiers stood around him, all of them men Bronn had injured.

Bronn curled his lip and chewed his meat.

"You," he mumbled back.

The messenger flushed and was about to step forward, but one of the wounded men beside him stopped him.

The injured soldier pointed somewhere.

Lushen was walking toward them.

The messenger shot Bronn an unwilling glare, then left with the other wounded men.

"Lord Suleiman wants to see you." Lushen said nothing more, watching Bronn warily.

Bronn stood up and rolled his neck. "Lead the way!"

Suleiman looked with interest at the man standing before him.

A lean build, black hair, black eyes, and scruffy stubble.

He'd changed out of his animal skins.

Now he wore plain black clothes.

You'd never guess he was one of Westeros's finest swordsmen.

Not unless Suleiman happened to know Bronn's name.

A famous man in the world of Westeros.

And the bizarrely outrageous ending he got in that shitshow of a show.

"You wanted to see me, my lord?" Bronn felt uneasy under his gaze.

He couldn't shake the feeling that the young man knew him.

As if he'd seen right through him.

"Didn't you break out of Valleydeep Town to find reinforcements?"

"I did!" Suleiman leaned back in his chair and smiled at Bronn.

A mercenary like Bronn, who put pragmatism above all else, would never risk his life to find reinforcements for a castle that could fall at any moment.

He'd only look for a way to survive.

Suleiman suspected that wasn't what had happened at all.

He'd simply run away from Valleydeep Town.

"Are you Ser Suleiman of Foulkeep?" Bronn was taken aback, though he didn't show it.

How unlucky could he get? Could anything be worse?

He cleared his throat, trying to hide the momentary awkwardness.

"Valleydeep Town is in grave danger. Lord Grover's food is almost gone!"

He paused, watching Suleiman's expression, but saw nothing but calm.

"Lord Lofor is furious with you. He thinks you... you've abandoned him to die!"

Grover Valleydeep was the noble lord who ruled Valleydeep Town.

Many minor nobles in the world of Westeros liked to use their fief's name as their family name.

But Suleiman's expression didn't change.

He stood up, and the guards around him drew their swords.

At the same time, he tilted his head toward Lushen and Roslyn.

The two were already behind Bronn. They forced him down onto his knees.

Bronn was shocked. "What are you doing, Lord Suleiman?"

His mind raced. He could take down a few men.

But he didn't think he could take down ten, let alone the two hundred men outside, so he wasn't going to resist.

Besides, he had no idea what he'd done.

Could this young nobleman think that Bronn had insulted his authority by beating six of his soldiers?

Suleiman decided to bluff him.

He picked up a piece of parchment, though Bronn couldn't tell from where he was whether it had anything written on it.

Then he drove a dining knife hard into the table.

"This is a letter asking for help from Lord Grover Valleydeep!" Suleiman said expressionlessly. "It also orders me to arrest a mercenary who took his fee and ran!"

"Lord Suleiman, what... what do you mean?" Bronn's expression changed several times before he finally wilted like a deflated ball and spoke in a dry voice.

Bronn was only twenty at the time, not yet as cunning and seasoned as he would become.

"So you admit you ran away from Valleydeep Town?" Suleiman asked impassively.

Lushen drew a short dagger from his belt and held it against Bronn's neck.

The blade was so close to his throat that Bronn had to control the movement of his Adam's apple.

He knew all his disguises had been torn away, leaving him exposed to Suleiman's gaze.

He was increasingly sure that the young nobleman knew him, that he'd seen right through him from the very beginning.

In front of him, Bronn felt stripped naked, standing there exposed.

"No, my lord! You've got it wrong! I really did come to ask for help!"

"Since Valleydeep Town is in grave danger, and you won't help... then... could you at least let me go back and deliver the news?"

Bronn clung to his last hope and spoke hoarsely.

Suleiman looked at Lushen.

Lushen understood at once. He pressed the dagger closer to Bronn's neck, and blood welled up.

"Wait! Wait, my lord!"

"I admit it! I admit it! I really did run away from Valleydeep Town!"

"That damnable town won't hold out much longer!"

"I don't want to die in there!"

Suleiman snapped his fingers, and Lushen pulled the blade away.

Bronn's kneeling body bent sharply forward. He braced both hands on the ground and gasped for breath!

He was relieved his throat hadn't been cut open!

"My lord! I really did run away from the town!"

"It won't hold out much longer!"

"The soldiers are exhausted! There's barely any food!"

"Lord Lofor is indeed furious with you."

Bronn's face turned deathly pale. He no longer cared about keeping up any pretense.

"My lord! Other than my claim that I came to ask for help, not a single word I've said is a lie!"

Suleiman waved a hand.

The guards on either side sheathed their swords.

"Good!"

Bronn saw the young nobleman named Suleiman smile.