"Your Grace," Nestor began with difficulty. "These accusations are extremely serious. They require evidence..."
"The evidence will be presented at trial."
Viserys interrupted him. "But I came today to give you a chance to avoid bloodshed. Open the gates, welcome the allied army below into the castle, and hand over Lysa Tully and Robert Arryn for a fair trial. That is the most honorable course left to you."
"Never!" Lysa screamed hysterically beside him. "This is my castle, my son's castle! You traitors all belong in the Seven Hells!"
She turned to the soldiers around her. "Kill him! Whoever kills this Targaryen bastard will receive a thousand gold dragons!"
A rich reward always brought out brave men. Three soldiers exchanged glances, then suddenly raised their spears and charged at Viserys. They were men of the Vale who had grown up hearing stories of Targaryen madness, and they felt nothing but contempt and hatred for the Dragonlord's bloodline.
Besides, the Dragonlord had dismounted from his dragon. This was their chance.
But they never even got close. The moment they moved, King Ghidorah spat out a beam and finished them off. Several people nearby were caught in it as well. The fortunate ones died instantly and painlessly; the unlucky ones were grazed by the golden light and lost arms or legs.
A deep trench appeared in the ground, its edges smooth. The intense heat warped the air nearby, and a wave of scorching air swept toward the nobles.
Apart from the unlucky few still clutching their bodies and screaming, everyone fell silent. Even Robert Arryn, who had burst into tears after his mother frightened him, abruptly stopped crying.
Viserys did not look their way. His gaze remained fixed on Nestor. "Ser Nestor, what is your choice?"
Nestor was deathly pale, his body