The savages retreated faster than expected.
Those guys who had been shouting that they were "free people" all day long, after losing Mance Rayder, seemed to have turned back into the disorganized tribe they were before overnight.
No one organized the rear, commanded the retreat, and no one even took care of the wounded.
They just run.
Running towards the north, towards the frozen forest where they came from, they ran as fast as they could.
James stood on the high ground and watched the gray-brown tide recede.
The wind blew over, bringing smoke, blood, and a desolate atmosphere belonging to Far North.
Mance Rayder's head was thrown at his feet, his face buried in the snow with only the back of his head exposed.
James glanced down and was too lazy to bend down to pick it up.
Because he no longer needs to prove anything to anyone.
"Ser!"
The hoarse voice of Hake came from behind.
James turned around.
Captain Bolton Cavalry was climbing up from the slope. The wound from his forehead to his chin was still oozing blood, and half of his face was turned dark red.
But he is still alive.
And he's still laughing.
"You are really good at running."
Hake walked to James, sat down on the snow, and gasped. "I really tried my best to catch up with you."
He paused and looked back down the slope.
On that snowfield, Bolton Cavalry people were gathering in twos and threes.
Some people were bandaging their companions' wounds or drinking water to restore their strength.
Wol is also among them.
The kid was very tough. He saved his life at the giant's feet and was now wrapping the wound on his left arm with a torn piece of cloth.
James counted them carefully.
Forty-seven.
There were 200 riders when we set out, but now there are only 47 left who can stand.
"It was really fun playing this time!"
Hake took out a flat wine flask from his pocket, unscrewed the lid, and took a big sip.
The strong liquor overflowed from the corner of his mouth and flowed into the hideous wound. He grimaced in pain, but he insisted on not making a sound.
"You killed Mance Rayder and helped Stannis win the battle."
"But that guy is our enemy. Master Bolton knows that he is afraid of peeling off my skin, hahaha!"
He smiled and handed the wine bottle to James, who took it and took a sip.
The North's wine was so strong that it felt like a line of fire was burning from his throat to his stomach.
In the distance, Stannis's troops are also gathering.
Their losses were more severe than Bolton Cavalry.
Three heavy cavalry troops of approximately 200 men were all loyalists who had followed Stannis north from the Stormlands and had not left even after the disastrous defeat at the Blackwater River.
But now there is not much left.
There were only about forty or fifty cavalry left, plus some infantry, barely making up a hundred people, especially the war horses, almost all of them died of exhaustion.
After all, it was the main force fighting against the savages head-on, so it was normal for the casualties to be higher.
Moreover, there were many infantrymen outside, most of whom fled when they saw that the situation was not good.
After all, as a southerner, no one is willing to die for the safety of the North, except for Stannis' die-hard loyalists.
The knights from the Stormland who were wearing plate armor were all disgraced at this moment. Many of them even lost their horses and could only stand in the snow holding their swords.
Further away, in the camp left by the savages, tents were torn down and supplies were scattered all over the place.
Some brave Night's Watch had already begun to rummage inside, and occasionally there were one or two excited shouts, probably because they had found food or weapons.
Bolton, Baratheon, Night's Watch.
They were fighting side by side just now, but now they maintain a subtle distance from each other.
After all, the enemy retreated, and the "covenant" between them also disappeared.
There was a strange tacit understanding permeating the battlefield.
No one wanted to speak first.
James stood up and patted the snow on his butt.
"Let's go."
"Where to go?" Hake looked up at him.
James didn't answer, just walked down the slope.
Hake was stunned for a moment, then stood up on his knees and followed him limping.
Bolton Cavalrys saw them coming down and stood up one after another.
No one spoke loudly, but everyone's eyes fell on James.
That look was full of awe and trust.
Because they followed this Lannister into the army of tens of thousands of wildlings, watched him kill the giant with their own eyes, and then went deep into the enemy camp alone to cut off the head of the King Beyond the Wall.
Now, no matter what he says, these forty-seven people will do it without hesitation.
At this time, about an hour had passed since the savages fled.
The sun peeked out from the ridgeline in the east, dyeing the entire snowfield into a light golden color.
Jaime was about to speak, but the people on Stannis's side moved first.
A dozen riders came out of their camp and marched slowly toward the open area at the junction of the highlands and the plains.
On horseback, Stannis Baratheon's back was straight.
Even after a brutal victory, he still looked like a judge sitting on the bench, waiting for the next criminal to be judged.
"Ser."
Hake walked to James and lowered his voice and said, "They are coming."
"I saw it."
James put the sword back into the scabbard on his waist and adjusted the blood-stained gray and white cloak. On the cloak, Black Hand Badge was faintly visible in the morning light.
"Should we ask the brothers to form a team?"
"No rush."
James shook his head. "Let them rest first."
He paused, his eyes never leaving the gray figure walking towards him.
"Hurry up and regain your strength. We will have an even greater advantage when the fight begins."
Still want to fight?
Hearing this, Hake was stunned for a moment, then grinned with a crazy and ferocious smile, his eyes full of excitement.
"You are more the North than me!"
Jaime did not answer, but just stepped forward and walked in the direction of Stannis.
The morning wind blew from behind, making his cloak rustle.
Behind him, Hake did not fulfill James' order, but waved to Bolton Cavalry.
Everyone followed James without hesitation, just like they had before when they rushed into the wildling army.
The two groups of people met in the open area at the junction of the highlands and the plains. Both sides still carried the murderous aura that had not dissipated from the battlefield.
It's about twenty steps away.
Both sides stopped at the same time.
"Jaime Lannister Ser." Stannis spoke first, his voice cold and hard.
"Lord Stannis." Jaime nodded slightly, his tone also not very polite.
A brief silence.
Stannis looked away from Jaime's face and looked at the Bolton Cavalry behind him.
He stayed on the hideous wound of Hake for a moment, and then took it back.
"Thank you for your support."
Although he said words of thanks, Stannis's tone was still stiff, as if he was reciting a text.
"If it weren't for you and your... people, this battle wouldn't have ended so quickly."
James raised his eyebrows.
Stannis said "your people", not "Bolton's people".
This guy sounds upright, but is actually very bad.
"You're welcome."
James snorted coldly, "I'm just doing what I have to do."
"What needs to be done?" Stannis repeated the word, his gray eyes narrowing slightly.
"I don't understand."
"Your father is Tywin Lannister, your sister is Cersei Lannister, you once swore allegiance to the Iron Throne, but now you are bringing Bolton soldiers to fight the wildlings."
"What the hell are you doing, James Ser?"
As soon as this was said, everyone remained quiet.
James was silent for a few seconds, then smiled.
"I am doing what I want, Lord Stannis."
"I want to kill the savages, so I lead the charge."
"It's that simple."
This answer was not very satisfactory, but Stannis nodded slowly.
"Your bravery is worthy of respect, Jaime Lannister Ser."
He paused and then suddenly changed the subject. "But respect cannot offset crime."
"You gave birth to three children, and they took the surname Baratheon. One of them is still sitting on the Iron Throne."
"And I, Stannis Baratheon, am the only rightful heir to the Iron Throne."
As he spoke, he leaned forward slightly from his horse, his eyes burning with a fire that was almost paranoid.
"According to the law, I have the right to judge you."
"And Bolton... they once betrayed the rights of guests and brutally murdered the Stark family at the wedding."
"That is to say, you and everyone behind you should be punished with treason!"
As soon as the words fell, there was deathly silence on the snowy field.
The wind stopped.
Hake and the Bolton Cavalry behind them tensed up their bodies at the same time, quietly clenching the weapons in their hands.
They were fighting side by side with Stannis's men just now, risking their lives to support the other side.
And now, this guy actually wants to judge them all?
Ridiculous!
"Burning bridges across rivers, right?"
Hake was about to speak when a young voice sounded from behind him.
Wol squeezed out of the crowd, his left arm still wrapped in a bandage, his eyes full of anger.
"We just helped you defeat the savages! So many of us died!"
"You're going to turn around and judge us?"
"This is what you Southron call chivalry? Bah, shit!"
"Even the meanest prostitute has a nobler character than you!"
The more he spoke, the more excited he became, spittle flew everywhere, and all kinds of obscene words came out of his mouth.
But no one stopped him, after all, what Wol said was true.
Under this guy's verbal attack, the faces of the House of the Stag knights behind Stannis didn't look good either.
The atmosphere was very tense for a while.
Davos Seaworth sat on his horse, his eyes moving back and forth between Stannis and Jaime.
He knew that it was useless to say anything at this time.
Stannis never listens to advice, especially when he thinks he is "right", but as a knight he has the responsibility to remind the lord.
Just when Davos was about to speak.
"Hahahaha!!!"
A burst of laughter burst from James' throat, attracting everyone's attention.
"Lord Stannis."
He continued to smile, but there was no smile in his green eyes, "You said you want to judge me?"
"What a coincidence."
"I will judge you too."
Rub!!!
He drew the sword with his left hand, and the sound of the blade being unsheathed was particularly harsh in the silent snowfield. The tip of the sword pointed at Stannis on the horse, Baratheon!
The morning light shone on the slightly curled sword body, mixed with mottled blood stains.
"Regicide, how dare you...
House of the Stag The knights drew their swords and rode forward at the same time, but Stannis raised his right hand to stop them.
"On what charge do you judge me, regicide?" His voice remained calm.
But anyone can hear the suppressed anger underneath the calmness.
Jaime did not flinch, but faced the gray gaze and said word for word, "You sent people to blow up Baelor Great Sept and kill Queen Mother Cersei Lannister."
"You attempted to overthrow the Iron Throne and murder the rightful King!"
"You even sent someone to assassinate the Hand of the King Vito·Corleone.
"Stannis Baratheon."
"You are the traitor."
As various charges came out of Jaime's mouth, Stannis's face gradually turned livid.
"I didn't."
He denied in a deep voice. "I did not send anyone to assassinate anyone, nor did I blow up Sept."
"I, Stannis Baratheon, would never do such a despicable thing. This is a slander."
"This is a lie made up by Lannister to cover up his crimes!"
However, James looked at his angry, aggrieved, yet extremely stubborn face and was no longer in the mood to explain too much.
Cersei is dead, Corleone "life or death unknown".
He no longer has the heart to distinguish between right and wrong.
He looked back at Bolton Cavalry behind him, and forty-seven pairs of eyes looked at him.
Some are young, some are old, and all of them still have blood stains on their faces.
"Do you still have the strength, Boltons?
There was silence for a moment.
Then...
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!"
Bolton Cavalry all shouted at the same time, and a strange and incomparable scream came from their throats.
"Fuck Baratheon! I'm Flayed Man from the Dreadfort!!!"
"I can still fight all day!"
"Take us on another charge, Lannister!"
Roars came and went, echoing on the snowy fields in the early morning.
The expressions of the House of the Stag knights behind Stannis suddenly changed, and they subconsciously rode forward to form a line of defense.
On the hills in the distance.
Black Jack Bulwer leaned on his horse's legs and slowly chewed a piece of black bread as hard as a rock.
A dozen Night's Watch Rangers were scattered around, silently watching the two groups of people confronting each other in the distance.
"Captain."
A young ranger walked up to him and lowered his voice.
"They... won't fight, right?"
Black Jack chewed the bread and asked vaguely, "So what if we fight?"
"Should we ---- give some advice?" the young ranger was stunned.
"Persuade?" Black Jack finally swallowed the mouthful of hard bread, patted the crumbs on his hands, and raised his head to look at the young man.
"Boy, do you know who are standing over there?"
The young ranger shook his head.
"The man on the horse is Stannis Baratheon."
Black Jack raised a finger. "He claims to be the only legitimate heir to the Iron Throne."
"The man standing on the ground is Jaime Lannister. He was the one who cut off Mance Rayder's head just now."
"They are the seven the Seven Kingdoms nobles."
With that said, Black Jack stood up and patted his slush-stained pants.
"The grudge between them is thicker than the ice of the Wall. What advice can you give?"
The young ranger opened his mouth but could not speak.
Black Jack withdrew his gaze and looked at the two groups of people still confronting each other in the distance.
"The disputes among the seven the Seven Kingdoms have nothing to do with us Night's Watch."
"Our duty is to abide by the Wall, not to be peacemakers for the big men in the south."
"What happened between them...
"Just leave it to them to figure it out."