Chapter 240 Fear
Rushing from Winterfell to Moat Cailin, we marched without any wisdom. Theon marched with Bolton's infantry at the end of the central army. Among their officers, he met many familiar faces, but there was no warmth or warmth in his eyes when he looked at him. He seemed to only regard Theon as an object.
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"Reek!" A familiar voice came, and Theon lowered his head and hunched over. Yes, they didn't treat him as an object, he was Reek, and the bastard army treated him as Reek.
Bone Ben, the breeder who takes care of the hounds for his owner, is grinning widely, and only a few teeth can be seen in his mouth.
"Hurry to the front army! Lord Ramsay tells you to hurry over, otherwise I don't mind opening a crack between you and the hound tonight!" Bones shouted loudly, he would only speak softly in front of his master As he spoke, Theon saw that his few remaining teeth were even shaking.
When he heard the word hound, his body shivered unconsciously. He was already familiar with the northern climate, so naturally he would not shiver due to the severe cold.
The ferocious grin of the hound raised by his master appeared in his mind, and fear suddenly filled Xion's mind.
He couldn't stop nodding, and when he passed the bone book, he was kicked to the ground. The mud puddle on the ground made his face dirty, and the mud was all over his body.
"Master will be angry! No! Master doesn't want to see dirty Reek!" Theon shouted loudly, struggling to climb out of the mud pit.
"Hahahaha!" Bone Ben's laughter filled the marching square, causing a group of soldiers to turn their heads and look here.
"You stink enough, Reek! Get up!" Bones grabbed Theon's collar, pulled it up, and then let it go. Like a bridge, it collapsed into a puddle of mud.
Mud entered Xion's eyes, mixed with a strange pain. Xion's hands dug in the mud puddle, pushing the mud inside to both sides, and splashed his eyes with clearer-looking mud water as much as possible.
"Hurry up!" Bones Ben kicked him again, but Xion was prepared and straightened his body without being kicked down.
Xion reluctantly opened his eyes, and the gap in his vision was a bit wider. He shivered twice, crawled out of the mud pit, stumbled to his feet, and ran forward in a panic.
The ridicule of the Bolton infantry echoed in his ears, but Theon threw it all behind him. He wanted to find his master, find his master.
After crossing the infantry square of the Chinese army, the "clack-clack" of horse hooves was very close at hand, muddy water was splashed by the sturdy Northland war horses, and the scarlet Skinner flag fluttered in the camp.
"Father gathered troops at the Dreadfort, and almost all the families in the north responded. The iron races entrenched in the Bay of Cailin have no reason not to escape by boat. In the north, the northerners have the final say." The master is as pink as a big worm. His lips twitched, he played with the dagger he always carried, and said in a mocking tone.
Ramsay Snow stared at the map with amusement in his eyes.
He pointed his finger at Severn City, which is the closest city to Winterfell. "Even the hypocritical bitch Joelle sent their people to the Dreadfort to answer her father's call. Tsk, I feel itchy just thinking about her delicate skin. ”
"The bitch's army was only willing to set off after we had passed through Severn City for dozens of miles. They were hypocritically loyal and frightened, hahaha!"
Seeing Ramsay laughing, the people around him also responded, but Theon noticed that Lord Bolton's bodyguard sent from the Dreadfort, Wharton, known as the "Iron Legs", did not laugh, but looked at it angrily. To the master.
He lowered his eyes and looked over. "Iron Legs" Wharton's long legs were tightly tied with iron greaves, stretching his long legs tightly and straight.
"Presumably Mrs. Joelle Severn still remembers the fact that you killed her brother, so she is unwilling to come." Wharton's voice was a little low, and he was not afraid of Ramsay, an illegitimate son.
As Theon approached the camp, Master Ramsay squinted at him, his prying eyes making his back feel like thorns.
He knelt on the ground and moved his legs closer to Ramsay.
"Her brother? Let me think about it, oh! It was that poor Clay Severn, the fourteen-year-old warrior with the sword. Who killed him? Who was it?" Ramsay Snow surrounded the camp, holding his hand in his hand. The dagger kept moving between his fingers, swinging the sword flower in mid-air.
He seemed to be asking a question. The bastards and cronies surrounding Ramsay were all familiar with his appearance. Theon could see that most of it was fear.
"Who is it?" Ramsay's dagger was close to Theon's chest, "Tell them, Reek, who killed poor Severn boy Clay?"
The cold touch made Xion's body shiver. He swallowed his throat and looked up at his master.
After Theon captured Winterfell, Sir Rodrik, who knew he had been tricked, came to his senses and summoned the troops from various families stationed in the northern castles to return to Winterfell and seize the city, which was garrisoned by only a dozen ironmen. The castle was surrounded.
Clay Seven is one of them.
He remembered Clay's appearance, age of fourteen, immature face, body that was not thin but definitely not tall among his peers, and the look of disbelief in his eyes when he was killed.
"Theon Greyjoy, that ironborn, he killed Clay Severn, he killed Ser Rodrik, he killed Lambard Talha!" Theon's voice gradually became harsh, from peaceful to howling. , the painful screams echoed throughout the camp.
Iron-legged Walton looked at him mockingly, Ramsay's eyes were actually a little shocked, and the bastard's cronies around him blinked and looked at the howling Theon. "What happened to your Reek, Ramsay?" Worton asked, not knowing Theon Greyjoy at all.
Ramsay squinted his eyes again, and Theon recognized this look, like a devil's look, and he knew that a piece of skin on his fingers was about to be peeled off again.
"No! No! Master, master! My fault! No!" Theon hurriedly crawled forward, but Wharton's long legs had already stepped on his neck.
"Stay away, Reek."
Xion felt as if there was a heavy stone on his neck, pressing his face firmly to the ground.
Ramsay's worm-like plump lips came to his ear, and he seemed to sniff the scent.
"You stink, Reek," said Ramsay, "give it a good wash and we'll have some fun tonight."
"No! No! No! Please!~" Xion's tears couldn't stop flowing down. The bastard's guards dragged him out, and the master's figure became farther and farther away from him.
"Please! Master! Please, she is just a child! Please!"
The farmer's pitiful pleas surrounded Roose Bolton's ears, which actually added to his amusement.
The guards of the Bolton family held down the farmer's daughter's limbs. Roose Bolton untied his sleeves and whispered in the girl's ear, "For thousands of years, the lords of the North have enjoyed the right of first night for the people under their rule. , the laws implemented by the Stark family after surrendering to Targaryen have become invalid under the rule of the Dreadfort. You must get used to it. I am the Warden of the North and the Duke of the Dreadfort."
There were only howls and cries left in the house.
After a while, the sounds in the room disappeared without a trace. Luce arranged his clothes and asked his attendants to help him put on his light armor.
"They are too noisy," Luce said to the attendants. "The people of the North must learn to be quiet. This land has always been known for its bitter cold. The enemies are waiting for opportunities. We can only stay silent and unite. In the past Stark, now we are, the ancient Red King Bolton.”
The attendant nodded believingly. He had already become accustomed to Master Bolton's habits in recent days.
"Dong dong!" There was a knock on the door.
The attendant turned around and looked over. It was Najib, Master Bolton's bodyguard.
Nagy walked in, holding a woman's head in his hands, blood covering his hands.
"I originally just wanted to cut off this tongue-tied woman's tongue, Master Bolton, but I didn't expect that," Najib said.
Roose Bolton just glanced briefly, "What did she say, Nagi? Killing people at will is against the laws of the North."
"She said that the Stark family was good, that under Duke Eddard there had never been any lords killing their subjects at will, and that the northern girls at that time even dared to walk at night."
Luce paused slightly, "Stark has ruled the North for thousands of years. His surname alone can call upon all the Northerners. They rely on this to rule, but Bolton is different." He approached Najib and looked down at the bloody "We rule by people's fear, from the Red King to the Seven Kingdoms era, consistently."
He turned to look at the attendant, "I trust your sword skills. I will peel off the skins of these three civilians and hang them on wooden pillars in the village for seven days."
The attendant lowered his head and said softly.
Luce breathed a sigh of relief, "We will discuss the control of the northern territory later. Let's capture the Gulf of Carlin first."
Master Bolton strode away, and the attendant turned to look inside the house, where the bodies of the farmer and his daughter lay quietly.
At least they will die together, the attendant thought
(End of chapter)