Chapter 51 Chaos in the Riverlands
The fishing boat shuttled between the Red Fork River, and the harpoon "plopped" into the water. The blood was mixed with the smell of fish, and the smell filled Hall Hewen's breath. He had long been accustomed to these smells, and he didn't care at all. He just watched with a look of joy. struggling trout on the harpoon. Its round eyes were wide open, and the indispensable desire for survival in every creature prompted it to twist its body continuously, trying to escape from the harpoon.
The round wooden basket is the final destination of the trout. Hall looked at the trout with only a little life left in the wooden basket with satisfaction and whistled proudly. It seemed that today was another good harvest.
When he was still very young, he was lucky enough to attend a banquet held by the nobles of his own territory. At that time, his mother hung him in a wooden frame containing fish, showing his head and curiously looking at all the luxury around him.
The crowds coming and going were not as large as the endless crowds he saw in the small town, but they seemed to be more hurried than the people in the small town. There were no playmates to play with in the water, and no girl quietly watching her father play. In fishing, there is no neighbor’s kid showing off his skill at floating on rocks and water.
But there were kitchen chefs covered in flour and cooks walking around the banquet hall carrying plates, secretly glancing at his noble daughter. Hall only thought that her curious eyes looked stupid. He had never seen the son of a fisherman. ?
"Illegitimate child? He Wen?" The words of the noble daughter were extremely harsh.
Of course Hall understood the meaning of these words. He had no father. However, his mother always told herself that he was the son of a territorial noble, but he was not born legally.
My mother often puts on makeup and goes out at night, only to come back at dawn. During the day, he also asked the fishing master in the town to teach him as a child how to aim the harpoon at the water and how to hit the cunning fish swimming in the river with one blow.
"The fish is very cunning, you have to be more cunning than it." said the fishing master.
Hall River was very good at reading, and he quickly mastered all the skills of fishing. From then on, the fishing master never took Hall to row a boat on the Red Fork River to catch fish, but spent half of his fortune on it. Hall was given a fishing outfit, a small boat, a harpoon, and a fishing net.
Whenever the fishing master sees his mother, he always stares at it for a long time, then touches Hall's head with a smile, "It's not easy for your mother."
Hall always nodded confusedly. He probably guessed that the master who had been teaching him how to fish didn't have a simple affection for his mother.
Hall put away the fishing net that had been spilled into the river, and the live fish jumped on the fishing net. "Great harvest!" Hall shouted to the water. Today's weather is much colder than yesterday, and his mother does not intend to go to where she works at night. , instead choosing to stay at home and rest. "Hall," the mother seemed weak on the bed, "go fishing. It will be good to eat some fish tonight."
Hall agreed wholeheartedly. He was very happy that his mother could accompany him when night fell, so he rowed the boat as far as possible, even approaching the fishing spot of another village. This was considered a violation of taboos for the fishing village. In terms of behavior, the fishing areas divided into villages and towns along the Red Fork River have arranged arrangements that are not strict, but are still stipulated.
Hall complied with these regulations and rowed toward the depths of the river. There were many big fish scurrying out there, but it seemed that each village tacitly refrained from fishing, leaving a certain amount of space for each.
"Hoo~!" Hall let out a long breath, and he was ready to go back.
Butterflies were flying on the treetops in the distance. Hall had never seen a single flower growing on such a high tree. It was so bright red that it seemed like it was dripping through. The deer suddenly jumped out of the grass. Hall had seen this elf-like creature from a distance with the hunters in the town. He did not continue to follow the hunter because he knew very well what the hunter would do with the deer. This made Hall He couldn't bear to look at it.
For some reason, when he saw the fish being stabbed by the harpoon, he didn't feel any emotion at first, but he couldn't bear to see these jumping creatures on land fall into that kind of situation.
Hall watched in fascination as the boat quietly rowed back from the river.
Four or five arrows cruelly took away his imagination, and the deer suddenly fell into a pool of blood.
Hall was so frightened that he crouched down and heard a sound in the distance.
"This little deer ran far enough."
"I followed the river here and met a few hunters who were in the way."
"After burning this village, we can probably go back and eat venison."
"That's necessary."
The murmur of three or five people talking came from the shore. When they approached the deer, Hall saw their appearance clearly.
They wore uniform cloth armor, bows and arrows on their shoulders, and each of them had a steel sword hanging on his hip. Only two of the five wore helmets, and they spoke a common language in Westeros that was not local. Accent, Hall looked at them curiously.
"Look, there is a young fishing guy there." One of them spotted him and waved to him, "Hey! Can you tell us where you live?"
Hall pointed in the direction of the river, "Just walk along the river," he shouted curiously, "Are you knights?"
"Haha!" Another stranger wearing a helmet smiled, "Stop talking nonsense to him, just kill him." "Blessed by the Seven Gods." Someone shook his head.
"Bless the devil," the stranger raised his longbow and pointed it at Hall, "Look at me."
Hall's eyes widened, and an arrow came out. He fell down on the spot, the arrow penetrated the wooden basket, the trout flopped on his face, and the collected salt water also flowed out.
"Hahahaha!" This arrow made the people around laugh, "You should practice." "Children are not easy targets, you are really inaccurate."
"Who says it's not a living target? This kid is quite flexible and doesn't grow too big." The stranger said with a blushing face.
"Don't waste time," said the man in the middle, "Kill him."
The five men nocked arrows together and pointed at Hall's boat, with no pity or sympathy in their eyes.
Hall jumped into the river, and the arrow streaked across the water, leaving a blood mark on Hall's face. Donated blood gurgled out of Hall's face, and he knew it dyed the river red.
"Let's go, this kid won't survive."
"My lord's team is still ahead, let's burn that town first."
"Village or town? Are there prostitutes in the town?"
"There are virgins too, don't worry about it, burn them first and then talk about it."
The sound gradually faded away, and Hall suddenly emerged from the water. He gasped for air. He had a premonition that something might happen to his town. He hurriedly climbed onto the boat. Regardless of the trout jumping on the boat, he picked up the oar and rowed hard towards the town. .
The place that should have been noisy was unusually quiet, and the water surface was impossibly calm. Tears flowed from Hall's eyes. He ignored his extremely sore arms and rowed desperately. The water surface gradually became rippled, and a person's face emerged from the water.
Hall's eyes widened. He was the master who taught him how to fish. His face was as pale as a whitened fish. His face was stiff and motionless, like a dead fish floating on the water.
Hall rowed next to him and tried to grab the master by the arm and pull him ashore.
The town was filled with gray smoke, and the sound of the flames was like countless struggling live fish. Hall flew through the town, passing countless dead bodies, playmates who often played by the river, and the leader's house was floating on the water. A good child, a fishing father and a girl who has been bored watching her father fishing, the rope maker in the town, and the old man who settles accounts for the lord.
Finally, in his own home, he saw his mother lying on the bed. Her clothes were messy and the supports of the bed were broken. Hall approached his mother and reached out to touch her. Her mother had already died.
Hall's heart seemed to be spread by the salt water that fed the trout in the wooden basket, and his sadness was like sinking into the red fork water that enveloped him in the river, unable to breathe, unable to breathe
"Hey, this kid is still here." A familiar voice came from the archery man on the shore. He was holding up his pants and his sword was placed beside the bed.
Hall stared blankly at the person who made the sound.
"Your mother?" the man said, "very good, she must be a prostitute, right?"
Hall suddenly picked up the long sword that the man left beside the bed, and stabbed the man in the chest.
A choking sound came from the throat of the person who had just spoken. He looked at the underage Hall in disbelief. "You" blood flowed out of his mouth, like a dying fish on a harpoon waiting to be slaughtered.
When he made no sound, Hall let go of his hand and collapsed beside the bed.
The sound of horse hooves came from the window, the blue flag swayed, and a falcon came into Hall's eyes.
"Illegitimate Hisham, follow the team quickly!" The man holding the flag shouted loudly, and a person who looked like an attendant quickly followed. The gangsters left the town in a mighty manner, leaving only corpses and spreading corpses scattered on the ground. of flame.
(End of chapter)