More and more guards appeared on the city walls.
These soldiers were better equipped than the ones at the mining camp; cloaks, armor, and weapons of visibly superior quality. Most of the mining camp guards lacked full suits of steel armor, instead relying on leather vests and mismatched greaves and bracers. Even decent helmets were a rarity there.
The city gates creaked open. A cavalry unit thundered out over the drawbridge, led by a broad-faced man with a bristle beard and long brown hair flowing to his shoulders. His eyes gleamed like stars, and behind him flew a banner: a proud peacock with its feathers fanned, vivid against a backdrop of creamy gold.
The peacock was the sigil of House Serrett. But to Gregor Clegane, it seemed oddly mismatched with their house words: Unmatched. A strutting peacock didn't exactly scream dominance. Swords, axes, those were worthy symbols of invincibility.
Unmatched? The thought struck Gregor like a spark.
The Clegane family, though known for its brute strength, had no official house words. Their banner showed three black dogs, but beyond that, they had no motto. Why shouldn't Unmatched belong to them instead?
If a family waving around a peacock could claim such a phrase, then a house bearing three war hounds certainly could.
Gregor, despite being a science and engineering student in his past life, had no shortage of literary pride. And Unmatched... the word fit him. It echoed his strength, his towering skill in combat, and his superiority over this medieval world, which, by his reckoning, lagged several civilizations behind his own.
The lead rider reined in his horse, his expression a mix of tension and suspicion. "Ser Gregor." he said, "why are you holding my seventh brother prisoner?"
"He kidnapped my daughter Julie from Clegane Keep." Gregor growled, "and he and his five brothers raped her for over ten days. I demand justice. I want to see your father. Tyger Serrett, get out here!"
His bellow cracked like thunder, echoing across the mountains: Get out! Out! Out!
This man was Ado Serrett, the eldest of Tyger Serrett's seven sons and heir to the seat of Silverhill. Ado's face changed dramatically. He'd never heard of Gregor having a daughter, but considering Gregor's infamous behavior with women, it wouldn't be surprising if he had a few illegitimate children scattered across the Westerlands.
He exchanged glances with his brothers. Each one looked shaken, their arrogance shattered.
This was a disaster.
Getting into a feud with the most brutal man in the Westerlands? The fact that Alva was still alive was a miracle in itself.
Ado glanced at his brother slumped on the horse, tied up like a criminal. Alva had clearly taken a beating and was wedged awkwardly between two riders, one of them grinning like a fool.
"If what you say is true, Ser Gregor, we will take full responsibility." Ado said cautiously. "Please, come inside. Let us host you. We'll investigate and give you a fair and proper explanation."
"You're not worth talking to. Bring out your father."
Ado clenched his jaw. Gregor had now demanded his father three times. "Ser Gregor, it's not out of disrespect. My father isn't in the castle."
"Oh? Then where is he?"
"Hand of the King Jon Arryn has died suddenly. After the funeral, King Robert Baratheon summoned all his lords and advisors to accompany him north to Winterfell. My father received a summons from Lord Tywin Lannister and traveled to King's Landing as the Westerlands' representative."
Gregor's heart skipped a beat. So, the story had begun.
Jon Arryn, poisoned by his wife Lysa Tully at Littlefinger's urging, had left a vacancy in the Small Council. Robert Baratheon, needing a new Hand, rode north to offer the position to his closest friend, Eddard Stark of Winterfell.
The Hand of the King wore a brooch in the shape of a golden hand, a symbol of his status as the king's chief advisor and executor of royal power. The Hand's role was vast: commanding armies, enacting justice, managing governance both foreign and domestic. When the king was ill or away, the Hand sat the Iron Throne as acting ruler.
In short, the Hand was the second most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms.
Eddard Stark was a man of unwavering honor, a quality that would cost him his life, and doom his family. He despised House Lannister and loathed Gregor Clegane.
Robert heading north. Ned heading south. The great war was beginning.
"Oh, so Lord Tyger isn't here." Gregor said, tone cooling. "That means you're in charge of Silverhill."
"Yes, my lord."
"Then take your damned brother and go. We'll settle the rest of this between us, House Serrett owes me a debt."
Ado blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected Gregor to hand over Alva so easily. His brothers looked equally stunned, then relieved.
They were nobles. They understood how these things worked. Gregor wanted gold.
The girl, thin, dirty, and dressed in rags, was clearly a nobody, likely one of Gregor's many bastards. Her life or death meant little. The real issue was ransom.
House Serrett had plenty of wealth. The mines behind Silverhill stretched for leagues, overflowing with gold and silver. It wouldn't be hard to buy peace.
"Thank you, Ser Gregor. Our family will repay this insult with due compensation." Ado said quickly. At his signal, two of his brothers rode up to take Alva.
Gregor swung his greatsword in warning. "Back off. You two aren't worthy. Ado, you're the heir. You come."
"Yes, my lord."
Ado nudged his horse forward.
Gregor moved aside, then in one sudden motion, reached out and plucked Ado clean off the saddle as if lifting a child. He clamped his massive arm around Ado's torso, bones cracked audibly under the pressure, and the man gasped, unable to breathe.
The Serrett brothers panicked. Blades were drawn, swords, spears, axes gleamed in the sunlight. Over a dozen guards unsheathed steel in unison, bloodlust in their eyes.
Gregor didn't flinch. He raised his voice:
"You can have your precious Alva back. But Ado here, he comes with me to Clegane Keep. Prepare one thousand gold dragons for his ransom."
With a rasp, Gregor unsheathed his greatsword and laid it across Ado's neck.
"Stand aside… or I'll take his head."