Tyrion had nearly thought his neck would be snapped, yet his expression remained unchanged as he raised a hand to stop Jaime, who was about to come over.
Then he smiled at Grit. "Ser, the giants have gone home to visit their families, not been withdrawn by me. At the very least, they won't obediently follow my orders."
Glancing down at Grit's large hand covered in black hair, he smiled faintly. "According to Crabb military law, I can have your head cut off at any time for offending me like this."
Ser Grit glared fiercely at Tyrion. After they remained locked in a standoff for a while, Jaime walked over. "Men, now isn't the time for infighting."
He patted Grit's hand. "Let him go, Ser. We're on the same side."
Grit panted heavily a few times, then released his grip under Jaime's urging and let out a harsh snort.
Tyrion staggered a few steps awkwardly after his feet hit the ground, only avoiding a fall because Ser Bronn caught him in time.
Meeting Lord Tyrion's contemptuous gaze, Bronn grinned. "My lord, I await your orders."
Then he turned to the other side, putting on a fawning expression. "Honorable Lord Jaime, I await your orders as well."
Clearly, Jaime's Gold Dragons seemed bottomless, while Tyrion himself... had long since emptied his pockets.
The mercenary had cruelly wounded the Dwarf's feelings...
Tyrion straightened his collar slightly, stepped forward, and lifted his chin at Grit, whose anger had yet to subside. "Ser, I am King Gryn's personally appointed adjutant. You must obey my orders."
After a brief pause, he clasped his small hands behind his back and continued, "Before Stannis launches his next assault on the city, we will temporarily retreat north of The Wall—all of us, horses included."
Bang.
Ser Grit dropped