Harrenhal Mutiny-Pulling the Wool Over Their Eyes

What happened at Harrion's camp naturally did not escape Roose Bolton's notice.

"They started fighting? Why?"

"It seems that it was because those Wildlings soldiers, the savages, stole the meat rations from the Karstark soldiers' food supplies," Bolin replied.

"Stealing meat?" Roose Bolton leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. "That does sound like something those Wildlings would do."

"My lord, won't this cause trouble for that bastard and the Karstark?"

Roose Bolton glanced at him, then shook his head and said, "Unlikely. To Harrion, Jon is like Eddard to Rickard —just a few pieces of meat. It's not that serious."

"Go check again, and let me know if there are any new developments. By the way, where is that illegitimate child now?"

He went hunting with his wolves last night, and it seems he just got back.

Roose Bolton nodded, looking somewhat relaxed. Jon hadn't had any contact with the other lords these past few days, so this conflict was probably an accident.

After Bolin left, Roose Bolton went to the window and looked down, but unfortunately, due to the angle and height, he couldn't see or hear anything clearly.

He looked toward the Tower of Dread, wondering what Jon was up to.

Soon, Bolin returned, his face beaming with excitement. "My lord, those Wildlings went back and called even more men, and that bastard has come too, saying he wants you to judge the matter!"

"Let me be the judge? What's going on here?"

"There's a lot of people gathered there now, and it seems quite a few nobles have gone there too, like Meiqi Saiwen and Wendel."

Manderly, they're all there, along with the Brave Companions.

"Why are so many people here all at once?"

Roose Bolton grew suspicious; something felt off. "Have any of Jon's men left his camp?"

"There are no adults here. If there were, our people would have reported it immediately," Bolin replied confidently.

Roose Bolton frowned in thought, confirming that this was indeed an accident, and in that case, he had no choice but to take action.

After all, Jon would soon be leaving Harrenhal and the Eastern Army, and this was a good opportunity for him to establish his authority.

When he learned that the leader of the Courageous Legion Vargo Hoat, had also sent men, he knew he had to take action.

Otherwise, even if Jon leaves, he won't be able to handle such a small matter, and he won't have enough prestige to command the entire army.

Roose Bolton thought for a moment and then said, "Go and get some men to control the situation. If possible, only let that bastard and Harrion come over."

"Yes, sir." Bolin received the order and quickly left.

Meanwhile, both sides in Harrion's camp were still shouting and cursing, "If it weren't for our Lord Jon, you would be dead by now. What's wrong with eating a couple of pieces of your flesh?"

"Ah! You bastard, you admit it now? Withholding food from other troops, do you know what crime that is?" Harrion roared as he lay on the stretcher. The other nobles, after hearing what had happened, basically understood what had occurred.

Recently, their soldiers have also complained about reduced meat rations, but it seems the issue has first surfaced with Harrion.

At this moment, Beric Dondarrion had already been switched at birth and was lying on the stretcher, knew Jon's entire plan. They had just taken advantage of others' inattention to replace all the real wounded soldiers with healthy soldiers wearing inner armor, only their faces were smeared with deer blood and animal blood.

Meanwhile, Martin had also assembled his Heavy Armor Battalion, ready to rush to the Kingspyre Tower to hold back the Dreadfort's army.

As soon as they enter the Hundred Hearth Hall, they will attack Roose Bolton. They must control Roose Bolton as quickly as possible, even if it means killing him.

Soon, Beric Dondarrion heard a series of rapid footsteps approaching, and the voices of Dreadfort soldiers rang in his ears. "Stop! All of you stop! Lord Jon, Lord Harrion, please come with us!"

Beric Dondarrion quietly opened one eye and discovered it was Roose Bolton's trusted Bolin.

Just then, Jon's voice rang out. "Men, bring all our wounded men here! Let Lord Bolton see who broke the rules first!"

"You're the only ones with wounded? We have wounded too! Men! Carry them all away!" Harrion's voice rang out at the opportune moment.

But there are about thirty or forty wounded here. If two people carry each stretcher, that makes more than a hundred people. How could Bolin allow so many outsiders to go to the Dreadfort?

"No! The wounded should be left here."

"Why should we?! We have to bring them! Their injuries are evidence!"

"Take it if you want, you started it!"

"Seven Hells? You're talking nonsense!"

"Quiet! All of you, be quiet!" The noise outside started up again, and Bolin shouted loudly, but the current situation was beyond his control.

Jon said again, "How about this, Bolin? If Lord Bolton thinks there are too many people, then let the Dreadfort soldiers carry them up to the Kingspyre Tower."

Upon hearing this, Bolin thought it was a perfect idea that would benefit both parties.

Although a lot of people went over at once, they were all injured and had no fighting ability. So he ordered the soldiers of the Dreadfort to carry these fake wounded to the Kingspyre Tower.

Sensing someone approaching, Beric Dondarrion immediately made a pained face, and with his face covered in beast blood, he looked extremely miserable.

Soon, under Bolin's command, a group of Dreadfort soldiers hurriedly carried these people to the Kingspyre Tower.

Soon after, Beric Dondarrion heard the sound of arguing again.

"You saved my life, I'll just pay you back, but the House Karstark will never tolerate such an insult!"

"Hmph! So Karstark can also argue! Explain to me what constitutes an insult!"

Jon and Harrion walked at the front, and while pretending to argue with Harrion, he told him his plan.

"Earl Beric Dondarrion is mixed in with my soldiers. His stretcher contains the Mountain's weapons. I'll be in charge of blocking the entrance to the Hundred Hearth Hall, and you'll be in charge of capturing Roose Bolton! Don't worry, I'll take full responsibility afterward."

"Jon, although I don't know what you're going to do, I know that everything you've done is for the North, and this is something you can't bear alone."

"That's enough," Jon said softly, then raised his voice again, "Stop talking nonsense! If you think you're right, then let's have a Trial by Combat!"

"Let's have a fight then! Who's afraid of you!"

The two argued incessantly, while Bolin watched coldly from the sidelines. "Let them argue, it's good that you're making a scene. This way, the Northern Army will be under our lord's command."

He walked behind the two men, glancing briefly at the soldiers on the stretchers. Their eyes were all closed and their bodies stiff, which made Bolin feel uneasy.

Just as they were going up the steps, two Bolton soldiers lost their balance and the stretcher suddenly tipped over.

A short axe was also found along with the stretcher.

The short axe clanged and clattered on the ground, bringing Jon and Harrion's "argument" to a sudden halt.

Looking at the short axe on the ground, everyone exchanged glances, and even the soldier lying on the ground pretending to be injured was at a loss.

"Are we about to be exposed?" Beric Dondarrion slightly raised his upper body, staring wide-eyed at the short axe on the ground, and couldn't help but break out in a cold sweat.

Just as Bolin was about to pick up the axe, Jon snatched it away in a flash.

He pointed his short axe at Harrion and roared, "Your men are armed?"

"That's impossible! We Karstark would never turn our blades against our own people!"

"The evidence is in my hands now. You can say whatever you want at the Hundred Hearth Hall!" Jon said coldly, giving the Dreadfort soldier who had accidentally overturned the stretcher a good scolding.

Bolin's doubts quickly dissipated, and he urged his men to continue.

Soon the group arrived at the Hundred Hearth Hall. The heavy oak doors were wide open, and the hall was filled with Dreadfort soldiers, roughly fifty in number.

First, there's the gate. He hadn't noticed it when he came before, but now he realizes how tall it is. It's hard to say how heavy it is, but it would be no problem if it fell down and killed a horse!

They only brought a little over thirty people, and at least seven or eight of them would be needed just to block the door.

Then there were the soldiers from the Dreadfort, almost all of them fully armed, plus the soldiers carrying stretchers, their numbers were almost three times that of the Dreadfort soldiers!

Beric Dondarrion was very uncertain. Finally, there was Roose Bolton, who sat on the throne, looking at his group with a stern face and no expression.

The conspicuous stretchers filed into the Hundred Hearth Hall, Roose Bolton's suspicions grew even stronger. He simply didn't believe that Jon and Harrion would fall out over something like this.

But as he sat on his throne, looking at the soldiers lying on stretchers, their faces covered in blood, he couldn't understand what had happened.

He glanced at the fifty-odd fully armed Dreadfort soldiers standing in the hall. The soldiers lying on stretchers were not only injured but also unarmed. Even if Jon had any schemes or tricks up his sleeve, he didn't need to worry.

When more than thirty stretchers were laid out in front of him, Roose Bolton looked at Jon and Harrion, who were standing side by side five or six steps away, and said, "Jon, Ser Harrion, I have heard about your situation, but I would still like to hear your thoughts."

Roose Bolton's eyes never left the two of them, as if trying to discern something. Sure enough, Harrion instinctively looked at Jon, his expression clearly indicating that nothing had happened. The two of them must be plotting something.

"Is he deliberately trying to cause me trouble?" Roose Bolton thought to himself.

"It's like this," Harrion spoke, breaking the silence, "The meat supplies for our soldiers in Karhold have been seized by those Wildlings..."

"Who are you calling Wildlings?" Harrion hadn't even finished speaking when Haken, lying on the stretcher, spoke angrily, his voice full of energy, not at all like someone who was injured.

"Don't you understand, you bunch of Wildlings who came down from the mountains?" Harrion glared at Haken, and the two started arguing again.

Throughout this entire process, Roose Bolton's eyes never left Jon's face.

As Harrion and Haken continued arguing, Jon suddenly turned to the Dreadfort soldiers carrying up stretchers and said, "What are you all still standing here for? Is it fun to watch us argue? Is it entertaining? Huh?!"

"Jon Snow, you bastard son who's about to be stripped of his military command, what right do you have to command the soldiers of the Dreadfort?!" Bolin, standing beside Roose Bolton, couldn't stand it any longer. Seeing Jon's gaze meet his, Roose Bolton quickly rebuked Bolin: "Shut up!"

As Roose Bolton spoke, he looked at the Dreadfort soldiers carrying the stretchers and said, "You can go out first."

Soon, more than sixty soldiers from the Dreadfort left the hall with scattered footsteps.

They had carried Jon's "wounded soldiers" a long way, and were already drenched in sweat and their arms ached. Since Roose Bolton told them to leave, they might as well leave.

Roose Bolton, however, was only thinking that Jon was going to show off his power one last time, since his soldiers would soon be his own anyway.

Even if something unexpected happens, there are still two or three hundred elite Dreadfort inside the Kingspyre Tower, so I can still "control the overall situation".

Soon, with the departure of more than sixty Dreadfort soldiers, there were only about a hundred people left in the Hundred Hearth Hall. More than thirty of them were brought by Jon and Harrion, and more than fifty were fully armed Dreadfort soldiers.

Jon secretly confirmed by the sound of footsteps that the sixty-odd Dreadfort soldiers had left the floor where the Kingspyre Tower was located and were still moving away.

Meanwhile, Roose Bolton was patiently listening to Harrion ramble on about what had happened that day when Jon suddenly moved, and Bolin beside him immediately tensed up.

After all, the person in front of them was a ruthless individual who defeated a heavily armored swordsman with a wooden stick and even slew the Mountain in battle; every move he made was worthy of vigilance.

"Jon?" Roose Bolton was naturally very nervous. He had long regarded Jon as a terrifying monster. He called out tentatively, and Jon, with his Raven, came to the window expressionlessly and released it.

What exactly is he trying to do?

Roose Bolton was increasingly confused, while everyone else's eyes were focused on Jon.

Harrion stood there, while Haken and Beric Dondarrion lay on stretchers.

After Jon released the Raven, he walked straight to the gate, and what happened next made their eyes pop out.

Jon pushed the oak door, which was not much smaller than a typical castle gate, and slowly closed it.

The oak door was at least twice Jon's height, which created a jarring incongruity; only the creaking sound of the door closing spoke of its weight.

Not only Roose Bolton, but also Bolin, Harrion, and Beric Dondarrion lying on the stretcher, all secretly swallowed their saliva.

Is this even human?

Ignoring the Dreadfort soldiers standing in shock at the entrance to the hall, Jon hoisted the door shut, plunging the hall into darkness.

The surrounding Dreadfort soldiers gripped their weapons tightly; no one had given them orders, it was a completely instinctive action.

"Jon, what are you doing?!" Roose Bolton, who was on the throne, could no longer sit still and secretly moved his hand toward his sword.

Roose Bolton couldn't see Jon's face clearly; Jon, standing by the door, seemed to have hidden himself in the shadows.

"Lord Bolton, I would like to ask you, if I were to lead an army to attack King's Landing now, would you be willing?"