Chapter 201 The War in the Imperial Forest
The frozen vegetable leaves were trampled to pieces by the mercenaries of the Warrior Group and sank into the moist soil. Worms crawled in the deep mud, biting the vegetable roots planted by the villagers.
The woman's painful howl echoed in the distant wooden house. The desperate husband was tied to a tree stump, and his two eyeballs rolled down into a pool of blood under the stump for mosquito bites. He muttered blood bubbles in his mouth, which was obviously caused by being bitten by mosquitoes. Tongue cut.
Amory Lodge's striking goat face leaned over and said to the mercenaries of the Warriors: "This family also has a virgin daughter. Let her be washed in the river. Lord Clegane will definitely enjoy it at night." In his hand, he was playing with a dagger that he had plucked from the Knights of the Storm. The dark red glossy carvings were very exquisite.
"Where is that little girl?" Amory Lodge saw a trace of imperceptible sullenness flashing across his face when he saw that the mercenary ignored him. He asked and looked around.
There were still only the wails and screams of women in the air.
"Is it at Utter's place?" Amory Lodge asked aloud, remembering the strange habits of this warrior monk.
At this time, someone finally responded, "No," Uthwick, the deputy of the Warriors, said, "Urt is a devout monk," he said with a smile, "he only likes to torture little boys, girls are not to his taste, hahaha ! ”
"Who wants to whip the boy on behalf of the Seven Gods after Ut tortured him?" Someone among the mercenaries of the Warriors asked, raising their wine glass high.
"It's my turn!"
"I am the designated one. I have long been unhappy with this hypocritical monk."
"Stop yelling, let me come."
The mercenary fell into laughter again.
Amory Lodge spat disdainfully, scratched the ground lightly with his boots, and buried the spit into the mud. "Maybe it will change the taste. I'll go take a look."
Following his memory, he walked in the direction of the mill and stream.
The woman's wailing stopped suddenly, like a stone falling into a dark cave, and was annihilated in the silence.
The leader of the warrior group, Wag Hut, came out of the wooden house cursing, his words seemed to be slurred, and his speech was not clear, "Damn bitch, cry and cry, the damn order to go south, I'm still in the brothel Enjoy! Damn it!”
Uswick stood up, "We have to get out of here quickly. We are too close to Timon the Broken Sword's troops. If we are not careful, we will encounter this group of Stannis's madmen." He looked into the wooden house. He glanced twice to confirm that the woman was no longer moving. He pursed his lips with some regret and looked at the leader of the warrior group.
"Timon's army is nothing. You noble brat, you don't even have three hairs underneath. What are you afraid of?" Wag Hut's tone was full of disdain. He approached the stable nearby and took off the tether of his mount. , led it out, and a strong black and white zebra appeared in front of the mercenaries.
"There is also Bonis Hatis's crazy group. We don't know where they are at all." Uswick looked at the indifferent Wag Hut coldly and reminded him.
The bachelor who had been manipulating firewood in front of the burning bonfire responded, "It is said that, of course, the information may not be accurate, and it is definitely not worth scrutinizing if it is more rigorous. Ahem," he coughed slightly, "Sir Bonis Hattis's Hundreds The Holy War is under the command of the Onion Knight, and they will not be able to reach the Kingswood for a while. I am not sure. Maybe they are still at Storm's End? "
The bachelor's back was slightly hunched, and there were many wrinkles around his protruding blue eyes. There was a smile on his lips. The gray clothes on his body seemed to blend into the gray hair on his head. His expression was like the grandfather the girl's family admired. Generally kind, Maester Qyburn gave a slight nod to Uthwick, the second-in-command of the Warriors.
Uswick breathed a sigh of relief, said nothing, and just sat there.
Wag Hut was still mumbling, but no one understood what he was saying, as if every sentence was mixed with saliva and was unclear. The scream for help came from the direction of the stream and the mill at this time, "Damn it! It's Timon! 'Broken Sword' Timon!" The scream of Amory Lodge came over.
Wag Hut put on the formidable sheep-faced helmet, and the sound of fighting in his mouth was very clear. He pulled out the long-handled scimitar from the saddle bag, turned over and jumped onto the zebra, facing the warriors behind him. The soldier spat, "Fuck them! Kill them!"
Uswick frowned slightly. He looked at the dense bush in front of him. A group of birds were frightened and flew up. "Only fools ride into the dense bush. Besides, we don't know the number of people on the other side."
The words were drowned by the sound of fighting. Half of the mercenaries had followed Wag Hut across the mill. Their horseshoes and armored boots stepped onto the shallow stream, splashing water.
Uswick cursed and looked at the mercenary behind him, "Let's go around from the side," he pointed at Qyburn, "Hidden, I will need your diagnosis and treatment later."
He left his war horse in the cowshed in the village and walked into the forest on the other side, with the mercenaries behind him sneaking in one after another.
With a slash, a ferocious bloodstain appeared on the face of the Stormland soldier, and he fell under the hooves of Wag Hut's zebra. But before he could recover from the joy of the fight, a thick and long tree root lay across his face. He fell in front of Wag Hut and hit him hard on the head.
After a burst of excitement, his tall and thin body fell into the mud, his face covered with tiny spikes growing on tree roots.
Mud got into his eyes, and Wag Hut scratched at them. When he opened his eyes, he felt severe pain in his chest.
"Broken Sword" Timon spat out disdainfully and smeared it on his face. He tightened his grip on the sword, and the blade of the sword was deeply embedded in Wag Hut's body until he could no longer breathe.
"Long live King Stannis!"
Timon's army smashed the warriors into a mess, like a bowl of boiling porridge.
"Kill!~"
Andrew Ismon, who was following Timon, shouted loudly and cut off the mercenary's arm with his sword.
"Long live King Stannis!" echoes filled the Kingswood, and the mercenaries scurried away with their heads in their hands.
"These damn bandits are attacking the villagers in Stormland. They are a bunch of beasts!" Andrew Ismon looked at the villagers' heads hanging on the treetops and was furious.
Timon pierced the fleeing mercenary's back with his sword, "Concentrate, this is a battlefield!"
On the other side of the forest, Uswick listened uneasily to the sounds of fighting not far away, holding his sword tightly.
"Stannis doesn't have many people," Uswick recognized the cluttered voices. "We have to retreat and meet up with the Mountain on the west side. He is coming here." He looked through the gaps in the branches and leaves. Looking at the fleeing mercenaries, he nodded slightly and retreated behind him.
The mercenaries knew this well and followed Uswick to the west in a tacit understanding. Suddenly, only the falling branches and leaves were left.
(End of chapter)