"I am Gendry·Baila Theon!!!"
When Randyll·Tarly led Kingsguard and Gold Cloaks into the dungeon passage, this roar was exploding from the depths of the stone wall.
Horn Hill Earl's footsteps paused for a moment.
Byra Theon???
This sudden surname made this veteran who had never flinched on countless battlefields instinctively feel a sense of alarm.
After all, Renly is dead, and now only Stannis·Baila Theon is gathering the remnants of the North, trying to make a comeback. If there are still people claiming to be Theon, Baila, then Stannis who is far away from the North must be involved!
"Quick!" he shouted, holding the sword hilt in his right hand and rushing down the stone steps first.
Sir Lynn Corbray, who was added to Kingsguard by Corleone a few days ago, followed closely behind with a dozen Gold Cloaks.
The moment he rushed into Black Cells, Randyll·Tarly's pupils suddenly shrank.
In the swaying light of the fire, a tall and strong young guard was seen holding a war hammer high and slamming it down at Vito·Corleone who was half-kneeling by the wall.
And Corleone seemed to be seriously injured, half-kneeling there motionless.
Without time to think, Randyll·Tarly drew his sword and stepped forward.
The family heirloom Valyrian steel sword Heartsbane flashed in the firelight and faced the war hammer accurately.
Bang!!"
The clash of hammers and swords made a loud noise, and the eardrums of several Gold Cloaks who had just rushed in were so shocked that their eardrums ached.
Randyll·Tarly felt a huge force coming from the sword body, and his arm sank involuntarily.
He was extremely surprised.
As a knight who has fought against Robert·Baila Theon on the battlefield and defeated each other, Randyll·Tarly is almost known as the Reach is the strongest!
However, the young guard in front of him, who had a close relationship with him, was even more terrifying than the young Robert!
That's outrageous!
However, although it was quite difficult to parry, Horn Hill Earl still did not retreat even half a point.
"Take it!" he roared with all his strength in his hands.
However, just when Lynn Corbray drew his sword and was about to step forward to help, the golden flame in the young man's eyes suddenly went out, and then the warhammer slipped from his fingers.
Under the doubtful eyes of the people, he fell forward and fell heavily to the ground without any movement.
From angry eyes to unconsciousness, it only takes a breath.
Randyll·Tarly maintained the posture of raising the sword and waited vigilantly for a few seconds.
But the young man who fell to the ground showed no signs of waking up. Only the slow rise and fall of his chest proved that he was still alive.
"Baila Theon?" Horn Hill Earl murmured again, and slowly sheathed the sword.
Kneel down and take a closer look at Gendry, its thick black hair and strong jawline.
It really looks like Robert·Baila Theon looked like when he was young.
But now is not the time to dwell on this.
He stood up and looked back at Corleone, only to see that Hand of the King's black eyes had completely lost focus at this moment. He touched and observed lightly, and saw that Corleone was breathing steadily, but was completely unresponsive to everything around him.
"What on earth is going on?" Randyll·Tarly frowned.
At this moment, Lynn Corbray's voice sounded from the corner, "This is an assassin."
Randyll·Tarly turned around and saw Lin En squatting next to Arya, holding a mask as thin as a cicada's wings in his hand.
A slightly childish face was revealed under the mask, with his eyes closed, he had obviously passed out.
Horn Hill Earl's brows furrowed even deeper. He had never seen Arya before, but he was clearly still a child. How could he look like an assassin?
Not long after, Gold Cloaks, who entered Black Cells to search, also came out carrying a body.
Cersei is dead!
The moment he saw the corpse's face clearly, Randyll·Tarly, who had always been steady, almost lost his grip on the family heirloom sword in his hand.
He couldn't help but feel that things had become very difficult. After all, he had just arrived at King's Landing in just one day when Hand of the King was assassinated and the Queen Mother, the culprit of the Sept explosion, was mysteriously killed.
If it weren't for the fact that Corleone was obviously injured at this time, Randyll·Tarly would have doubted whether this guy deliberately deceived him into King's Landing so that he could find an excuse to deal with himself!
"Fuck!!!"
At this moment, a loud shout came from behind.
I saw Rorge rushing out from the crowd, pointing the sword directly at Gendry who was unconscious on the ground, and cursed excitedly, "I'll fucking kill this damn traitor!"
Saying that, the sword went straight to Gendry's heart.
Bang!
Heartsbane swung out again, holding the blade of Rorge impartially.
The two swords intersected, Rorge was shocked and took two steps back, but Randyll·Tarly remained motionless.
"Get away!" Rorge stabilized his body, his eyes were red, and he stared at the new Master of Laws in front of him without fear. "I must fucking kill him!"
"It's not your turn to make a decision here." Randyll·Tarly said coldly.
However, Rorge had lost his mind at this time and raised his sword again and shouted angrily, "Get out of my way, King's Landing it's not the turn of an outsider like you to interfere!"
"Hand of the King is unconscious. As Master of Laws, I have absolute power of disposal." Randyll·Tarly interrupted him again, Heartsbane was still firmly between the two.
"Instead of being lynched by an impulsive guy while Hand of the King was in a coma."
As he spoke, his eyes fell on Corleone who was half-kneeling against the wall behind Rorge, and said coldly, "Compared with this, I think your most important thing now is to take Lord Hand to Pycelle Grand Maester's place."
"He doesn't look in good shape."
Hearing this, Rorge turned around suddenly, and when he saw Corleone's empty eyes, his expression suddenly changed.
The long sword fell to the ground with a clang, and he rushed in front of Corleone.
"My lord? My lord!"
His call received no response.
Corleone's eyes were still staring blankly ahead, as if his soul was staying in a very far away place.
Upon seeing this, Rorge put Corleone's arm on his shoulders without saying a word, and carefully lifted him up from the ground.
He stood up, looked back at Randyll·Tarly and threatened.
"Keep this kid for me and no one is allowed to touch him."
"When the Lord wakes up, I will apply to chop off his head with my own hands!"
After saying that, he carried Corleone and strode towards the stone steps.
Several Black Hand Mafia elites followed behind and left the dungeon together with Rorge.
The sound of footsteps gradually faded away, and the dungeon became quiet again.
Linn Corbray handed Arya to the care of two Gold Cloaks, then walked to Randyll·Tarly and asked in a low voice, "What should I do, sir?"
However, Master of Laws remained silent.
Byra Theon, Lannister, Black Hand Mafia.
These forces are all mixed up in this small Black Cells at the moment, and he, a Master of Laws who has just arrived at King's Landing for less than a day, must make a decision in this mess.
And he was accompanied by this seemingly obedient Lynn Corbray.
Randyll·Tarly knows very well that the self-proclaimed first knight of Vale became Kingsguard, who was personally canonized by Corleone in the name of the king.
He must weigh the pros and cons clearly.
"This guy must be from Stannis·Baila Theon."
After thinking for a long time, Randyll·Tarly finally pointed at the unconscious Gendry on the ground and said, "Go and inform Small Council that the Queen Mother was killed by an assassin sent by Stannis·Baila Theon. Lord Hand was injured and fell unconscious while trying to stop the assassin."
As he said that, he lowered his head and looked at the face of Gendry that was exactly the same as Robert·Baila Theon: "As for this one, first lock him in the deepest part of the Red Keep dungeon and hold him in solitary confinement."
"Until Lord Hand wakes up, no one may interrogate or visit him."
"Yes, sir."
"And."
Randyll·Tarly stopped Lin En who was about to turn away and continued, "Send a message to the North in the name of Iron Throne, so that Roose Bolton and all the North lords will know the news!"
"The North will never be forgotten, and the same will be true for Iron Throne!"
Castle Black.
The hall was filled with the strong smell of bad ale and burnt meat.
Dozens of night watchmen wearing Black Cloak crowded around the long table, banging their wine glasses on the table and singing tuneless war songs.
"For our victory!"
"Ha!!!"
"Wildlings cannot defeat the Night's Watch!"
"Ha!!!"
The glasses clashed and the ale was spilled.
Some people even jumped on the table and waved the tomahawk they had snatched from Wildlings's corpse, which attracted cheers from the surroundings and the entire Castle Black hall was immersed in an atmosphere of ecstasy.
After all, for the Night Watchmen, there is nothing more worthy of celebration than "being alive".
But at the very edge of the cheers, there was a person who was silent and out of place.
From beginning to end, Jon·Snow never touched the glass of ale in front of him, looking very lonely.
Last night, he and his sworn brothers guarded Castle Black, but Ygritte fell into his arms, and her flaming red hair was scattered on the snow.
Jon kept holding her hand until it was no longer warm, but the voice of this Wildlings spearwife kept echoing in her ears.
"You don't understand anything, Jon·Snow...
Bang!
A stoneware wine glass stomped heavily in front of Jon, interrupting his thoughts.
He raised his head and saw a man with a golden beard mixed with gray and a shaved head sitting opposite him.
The wrist of his right hand was wrapped in gray gauze, and the prosthetic hand made of gold had long gone. He held a glass of ale in his left hand.
The green eyes looked particularly bright in the dark hall.
Jon looked at Jaime and was silent for a long time.
Last night, this guy with only one hand fought very bravely. At least ten Wildlings fell under his sword, and all the night watchmen on the Wall saw it.
Because his nephew... no, maybe the son ordered to chop off Jon's father's head.
But in last night's battle, it was indeed Jaime·Lannister who guarded the flanks of Castle Black, otherwise Wildlings might have broken through the defense line, causing the fortress to fall.
Jon cannot deny this.
"Your swordsmanship is good, Lannister." So, Jon could only hold back this sentence for a long time.
Hearing this, Jaime raised his eyebrows, shook his wine glass and said briskly, "Of course, I learned this from Colin Halfhand."
"Although I haven't reached the previous state, I can finally fight normally."
Hearing the name Colin "Parthand", the corners of Jon's eyes couldn't help but twitch slightly.
"I don't want to kill him, but Colin ordered me to do it." Jon's voice was very low, so low that it was almost drowned by the surrounding noise.
A few days ago, more than a dozen of their rangers went out to the Wall together, but later they were ambushed by Wildlings and the team separated. Snow and Colin were killed by Wildlings caught up with him, and in order to save his life and continue to fulfill his duties as a night watchman, Snow had to kill Colin in front of Wildlings to show his loyalty.
"I know."
However, Jaime's answer frankly surprised Jon.
He raised his head in confusion and saw that there was no hint of blame on Jaime's face. Instead, he looked very free and easy. "If that guy hadn't volunteered, you wouldn't be able to kill him with your swordsmanship."
"But then again, although that kind of death is heroic, as a Night Watch Ranger, he should use his life more prudently. After all, you only have so many manpower in total, and it is not so expendable."
This is true... but why does it sound so awkward?
Jon opened his mouth, but in the end just shook his head helplessly.
"Why don't you have two drinks?" However, Jaime seemed unwilling to dwell on the matter, and instead pushed the glass forward.
"The celebratory wine has been opened for you."
"But they were happy too early." Jon shook his head again and glanced at the cheering Night Watch brothers around him, without any joy in his eyes.
"Mance Rayder has assembled an army of tens of thousands Wildlings, I have seen it with my own eyes. They will arrive at the Wall soon."
"We only have about twenty people now. Even if reinforcements from the Eastwatch-by-the-Sea arrive, the number will not exceed 500."
"Wildlings's combat power is not strong, at least it doesn't take much effort for me to kill." Jaime whistled and answered.
"And we still have the Wall to defend. This wall has been standing here for thousands of years, hasn't it? What's more, didn't you say that you have blocked something more terrifying than Wildlings?"
"But the gap in numbers cannot be made up by combat power and fortifications."
Jon's voice deepened. "Besides... not all the Night Watchmen are heroes."
As soon as he said this, Jaime couldn't help but fall silent.
He knows what Jon is talking about.
Former Commander-in-Chief Geo Mormont, a guy who in Jaime's opinion valued honor more than Eddard·Stark, ended up dying at the hands of his own people.
If it hadn't been for his exceptional accommodation a few months ago, I wouldn't have been able to successfully blend in with the Night Watch, and even learn swordsmanship from Colin Halfhand.
"When things here are settled, let's go kill those traitors together." Jaime snorted coldly.
Hearing this, Jon raised his head, a flash of emotion flashed in his gray eyes, but he soon returned to calm.
"No."
"What, you think you can handle it alone?"
"There is no rush in revenge."
Jon shook his head again, looked into Jaime's eyes and said seriously, "Please do me a favor, Ser Jaime."
"I want you to go to Winterfell to find Roose Bolton and ask him to send troops to help us resist Mance Rayder and his Wildlings army."
"What???"
As soon as these words came out, Jaime almost thought that he had heard wrongly.
"You want me to help you lobby your enemies?"
"Maester Aemon is right, love is the enemy of honor, and it is also the taboo of responsibility."
However, Jon's eyes were full of determination. "We must kill the boy in our hearts and shoulder the responsibilities of men."
Seeing this, Jaime was silent for a long time.
He leaned back on the chair and touched the stubble on his chin with his left hand. His green eyes stared at the black-haired boy in front of him, as if he was looking at a completely incomprehensible creature.
Originally, he came into contact with Jon·Snow just out of a disgraceful curiosity... or bad taste.
After all, Jon is Eddard·Stark, the guy who prides himself on "honor", a stain on his life that will never be erased.
But now.
"What a rotten job."
Jaime shook his head, and then grinned. "Okay, but as promised beforehand, Roose Bolton is not a guy who values honor. He can even trample Guest Right, so I'm not sure I can do this."
However, Jon was not discouraged and still looked directly into Jaime's eyes seriously and said, "Thank you for your help, Ser Jaime."
Hearing this, Jaime was stunned for a moment, then he picked up the wine glass in front of him and drank it in one gulp, swiping it with his right hand like a jingling cat.
"Jon·Snow, you are really your father's son."
At this moment, the door to the hall was banged open.
The cold wind blew in with snowflakes, causing the candlelight on the table to sway violently.
A chubby man staggered into the hall, panting, attracting everyone's attention.
Under the dissatisfied eyes of the night watchers, Samwell·Tarly put his hands on his knees, gasping for breath, and finally recovered and unfolded the letter in his hand.
"King's Landing..
"Something big happened!!!"