In the mountain tower of Lion's Den, the air is turbid and hot.
The rain outside the window was still falling, making a crackling sound on the mountain wall.
Roslyn was sitting behind the oak table. The candlelight on the table was blown around by the wind that came in through the cracks in the window.
He held a letter in his hand.
The letter paper is very thin, with only a few lines of words on it, which are the handwriting of Mr. Suleiman.
The handwriting is sloppy and it can be seen that it was written in a hurry.
The content of the letter is very simple: If the situation is unavoidable, give up Lion's Den, come to King's Landing, and go with Free Cities.
Roslyn stared at those lines for a long time, until the tears of the candle dripped on the table and solidified into a pool of pale spots.
He stretched out his hand and held the letter close to the candlelight.
The flame greedily licked the paper, rolling up the black ash, until the last spark was extinguished on his rough fingertips.
Roslyn stood up, walked to the window opened in the mountain, opened the thick window, and looked down at the plain from the tall mountain.
The cold wind mixed with the rain rushed towards his face, constantly blowing on his face and body.
Master Suleiman gave them food, clothes and dignity.
He transformed them from farmers digging in the mud, to soldiers carrying swords, to commanders who can now act independently.
Without Mr. Suleiman, he and Lushen would have starved to death and turned into two withered bones.
This life was given by Master Suleiman.
He turned around, looked at the confused adjutant, pointed to the armor on his body, and then pointed to the plain in the distance.
"Lushen and I are farmers of Master Suleiman."
"Farmers, you must protect the land for your masters."
"Even if it means death."
The adjutant opened his mouth to say something, but looking at Roslyn's calm eyes, all the words were stuck in his throat.
He saw something in those eyes that he couldn't understand, yet was extremely awe-inspiring.
"Continue reporting."
Roslyn's voice brought him back to reality from his complicated emotions.
The adjutant lowered his head and looked at his muddy boots.
"Mountain Clans and the Wildlings gang are starting to fight back."
"They didn't rob, nor did they arrest women. They captured Riverlands people, regardless of age or sex, and their heads were chopped off and hung on trees."
"But these are all within our previous expectations, and the losses are not big."
Roslyn nodded, this is nothing.
Mountain Clans is just a group of undisciplined Wildlings, Suleiman adults have been building fortifications in the mountains, and it will not work.
"And."
The adjutant's face became serious.
"There is something unusual in Bloody Gate of Vale."
"Our people saw several groups of cavalry coming out of Bloody Gate."
"There were hundreds of riders in each group. They entered East Riverlands, looted everywhere, and burned villages."
Roslyn walked to the map and his eyes fell on the long and narrow passage connecting Riverlands and Vale.
The adjutant's voice was very low.
"They move so fast that our people can't keep up."
Roslyn's finger moved slowly on the map, stopping at each castle that Lord East Riverlands took over.
Now, they have become a liability.
He was silent for a long time, as if fighting a silent war.
There was only the sound of burning candles in the hall.
Finally, he raised his head and his voice suddenly rose.
"Send my orders!"
The adjutant stood at attention, his armor leaves rustling.
"Let Riverlands civilians live in all the castles we control!"
"Give them all the food!"
"Give them all the spears, shields, bows and arrows in the castle arsenal, even the rusty farm tools!"
The adjutant swallowed and asked cautiously.
"Those civilians... they took something, what if they ran away?"
"Or what if I become a bandit worse than the enemy?"
Roslyn made a gesture on his neck.
"Send people to spread the news. Vale people will kill Riverlands men and rape women when they meet them."
"Countless villages have been massacred."
"If they are caught, they will be hanged from a tree."
"It's good to become a bandit, there is no turning back."
He looked at the adjutant with deep eyes.
"Send our men to lead them."
"With their combat experience and organizational skills, they will soon become the commanders of those Peasant Militias."
Roslyn's eyes became sharp.
"This is a far-sighted move by Mr. Suleiman. We must consider it carefully for him."
"We cannot let these armed civilians become venomous snakes that bite us."
"We have to guide them and control them."
"Let the swords in their hands always point only at my enemies."
He walked up to the adjutant and patted him on the shoulder.
"Only civilians with blood on their hands are good civilians."
"Only by letting them kill people and steal things will they understand that they have no way out."
"They have no choice but to follow Lord Suleiman to the end."
The adjutant shuddered. This was going to turn the entire East Riverlands into a huge quagmire.
"What about us? What about Lion's Den?"
the adjutant asked.
"Lion's Den is a nail, I will stick to it to the end."
Roslyn turned around and looked out the window at the dark rainy night.
"Crush the old citizens into pieces and scatter them into Military Fort in the mountains and forests."
"Cooperate with those Peasant Militias and fight a bad war."
"Aren't the Vale cavalry powerful? Let me see if their horses can run into the Mountains of the Moon."
"I want to see if they dare to ride up the mountain!"
Roslyn walked back to the table, picked up his sword and drew it out, the cold light piercing his eyes.
"The longer we stay here, the worse it will be."
"The greater my chance of winning."
He looked around at all the officers present with iron eyes.
"Do you understand everything?!"
"Understood!"
The roar echoed in the mountain, carrying a kind of madness unique to desperadoes.
"Action!"
The officers filed out into the rainy night.
Roslyn was alone again in the hall, and the cold night wind was blowing his cloak.
He knew that a bloody battle was coming.
He also knew that he probably wouldn't live long.
But he doesn't care.
The farmer defended the land for the lord and died in battle.
This is glory.
It is also a way of repaying a favor.
Soon, the silent East Riverlands began to boil.
The heavy treasury doors of each castle were pushed open, and the long-stored grain flowed out like gold sand.
Bundles of spears were thrown onto the muddy ground, making a dull sound.
The civilians who were summoned were still cowering at first and did not dare to step forward.
They looked at those fierce-looking soldiers and thought they were trying to recruit more men or raise taxes.
Until a soldier put a bag of wheat into an old farmer's hand, and then put a long sword into his hand.
"Take it!"
the soldier shouted.
"This is given to you by Master Suleiman!"
"If anyone dares to rob me, I will stab him to death with this sword!"
"Don't get caught by the Vale people!"
The old farmer put down the wheat he had longed for most with trembling hands, holding the sword tightly in his hand, and his cloudy eyes slowly lit up with a light that he had never seen before.
That is greed and ambition.
It also suppressed the anger that I wanted to vent my whole life.
He is armed with a sharp weapon and has a murderous intention.
The crowd started to commotion, and then it turned into a frantic scramble.
Everyone wants to pick a sharper weapon.
In this land soaked in rain and blood.
A war without any honor, without any rules, just pure killing.