In the crisp, cool dawn, the soldiers continued their advance. The Mountains of the Moon were indeed as Blackfish had said: their foothills were rocky, high, and desolate, with snow on the peaks.
Fortunately, it wasn't winter now, and they hadn't encountered heavy rains, allowing them to avoid the most dangerous enemies: mudslides and falling rocks.
As Gendry, having donned his black scale armor, was just pulling back the tent flap, he saw Dacey Mormont and Jon Snow hurrying to find him.
"There's a situation, My Lord," Jon said urgently.
Jon indeed bore too strong a Stark resemblance, far more than Robb, who looked more like a Tully. Jon was not tall, lean, with a long face, brown hair, and grey eyes, occasionally appearing melancholic.
"Is it the Hill Tribesmen?" Gendry asked.
"Yes. The Hill Tribesmen have blocked the road ahead, but they don't intend to fight; they want to speak with our leader," Jon nodded.
"These Hill Tribesmen are poorly equipped; we should just charge through. They are not the Knights of the Vale's troops," Bronze Yohn also stepped forward, saying. He had already put on his silver-plated armor adorned with runes and held a longsword.
"Lord Yohn, our objective is to rush straight to The Bloody Gate, not to engage in guerrilla warfare with the Hill Tribesmen in the mountains. That would significantly delay us, and it's extremely dangerous. I've dealt with them many times; these people have no armor, are malnourished, and possess only courage and familiarity with the mountain paths. Once they slip back into the mountains, they vanish. However, with such a long column, they rarely appear, so this is truly strange," Blackfish said. As the Knight of the Bloody Gate, he was the most knowledgeable about the Hill Tribesmen.
"Perhaps I should talk to them? I used to be the Knight of the Bloody Gate; perhaps they've heard of me," Blackfish suggested. Blackfish's voice was hoarse, his face weathered, with grey hair, thick eyebrows, and blue eyes. He had extensive war experience, an Old Knight who had participated in the War of the Ninepenny Kings.
"I'll go," Gendry said. The Hill Tribesmen's willingness to appear rather than ambush indicated a strong hope for negotiations, and Blackfish did not insist further.
The shouting came from a wind-eroded ridge not far from the army. Gendry saw the Hill Tribesmen cavalry perched on the ridge; in short, they looked like a motley crew.
The Knights of the Vale guides were ready and eager. But the rugged mountain path would indeed affect the cavalry's pursuit speed.
Anguy and the Longbowmen were also ready, arrows nocked. Just a few volleys of arrows would shoot down all the Hill Tribesmen who had appeared, but their numbers were not limited to these. Killing these might lead to even more guerrilla fighters later.
"Indeed, they are villains from a poor and harsh land," Gendry thought, looking at the Hill Tribesmen.
The Hill Tribesmen all had dark complexions, lean figures, wearing hardened leather and ill-fitting stolen armor, their faces hidden behind half-helmets. They wore gloves and carried various weapons: old longswords, Longspears, sharpened scythes, as well as maces, daggers, and heavy Iron Hammers. The few leading riders all wore cloaks made of mottled Shadowcat fur and wielded greatswords or long axes.
But the Hill Tribesmen did not attack; instead, a mottled Shadowcat skin fluttered on a bamboo pole, the banner waving repeatedly, clearly indicating a desire to talk.
"The mountain path is rugged; why do you block the way? Have you come to taste our fine wine?" Gendry shouted, his voice like steel.
"The mountain is ours, the road is ours," a burly man wielding a greatsword charged out from among the Hill Tribesmen. "I am Dos, son of Dolf of the Tresdman Tribe."
"So, are you going to block our path?"
"Not exactly," the burly Dos said earnestly. "If you are willing to give us some gifts, then I promise to let you pass quickly. The High Mountain Clans do not wish to entangle with the Low Mountain Clans. Swords? Longspears? Or armor?"
"This is the King of the stag Tribe," Blackfish said. "Your attitude doesn't seem like you're bargaining with a King."
"King, we never kneel, but King sounds much more powerful than any Eagle Chief. I know a few tribes followed the son of the lion Chief and left. stag and lion?" Dos asked.
"The lion and the stag certainly don't get along," Gendry laughed heartily. "Are you on good terms with the Burned Men Tribe?"
Upon hearing "Burned Men Tribe," Dos's face immediately soured. The Burned Men Tribe was currently the strongest of the Mountains of the Moon Hill Tribesmen, and other clans greatly feared them. During their coming-of-age ritual, Burned Men Tribe warriors would burn off a part of their body, usually a finger or a nipple. The Burned Men Tribe got its name this way. The more important the burned body part, the higher the warrior's prestige.
"We are naturally not familiar with the Burned Men Tribe," Dos's expression clearly twitched, and the warriors behind him also became highly vigilant. The fear of those madmen from the Burned Men Tribe was deeply ingrained in their hearts.
"The Burned Men Tribe went down the mountain and made a fortune. When they return to the mountains with armor and swords, you will be in trouble," Gendry pointed out sharply.
This statement likely hit a nerve with Dos. The High Mountain Clans had been fighting amongst themselves for years; once one tribe grew strong, the others would suffer. Several tribes were currently following the Burned Men Tribe down the mountain, and if they truly returned, it would undoubtedly be a bloodbath.
"Precisely why I need some gifts. Armor and longswords are more precious than gold," Dos glanced enviously at the excellent armor of the soldiers below.
"Gifts will certainly come, but not now, as you can see, I am entering the mountains. The Burned Men Tribe went down the mountain, why doesn't the Tresdman Tribe?" Gendry said. "You're not afraid of the Burned Men Tribe, are you, only daring to plunder from behind rocks?"
The Burned Men Tribe went down the mountain, and the Tresdman Tribe also went down the mountain.
"That's not it!" Dos roared, brandishing his greatsword.
"Are you really richer than the lion and the Eagle?" Dos asked doubtfully.
"Absolutely," Blackfish also stepped forward and patted his armor, from which a blackfish pendant secured his cloak. "Our Lord has tens of thousands of soldiers with armor like this. We can go stab the lion in the back; you might even find Timmy."
A moment later, another Hill Tribesmen Knight, also wearing a Shadowcat cloak, charged forward. This person had a large snake tattoo on his face, looking like a warrior from the Brownsnake Tribe, and held a pitchfork.
"Have you reached an agreement, Dos?" the Brownsnake Tribe warrior asked. He was very thin, and only his tattoo was striking.
Dos approached the Brownsnake Tribe warrior and murmured a few words in a low voice.
The Brownsnake Tribe warrior nodded and whispered, "We don't want gold. The Child and mothers are starving. Weapons are worth more than gold. Since Timmy has gone down the mountain, we can too. If winter comes again, our sheep and horses will all be eaten."
"The lowland lord's gold is as worthless as a dwarf's words," Dos considered.
"If you don't even have this much courage, then you can only wait to be killed by the Burned Men Tribe."
"I'm certainly not afraid!" Dos roared, brandishing his greatsword. "My sword can prove our words."
"You don't have many opportunities, as soon as my taxi soldiers charge."
"People of the lowlands, Chief of the stag!" the Brownsnake Tribe warrior hastily shouted. "The Brownsnake Tribe and the Tresdman Tribe are willing to go to the Riverlands to fight the lion. But when?"
"When this banner reappears," Gendry threw his quartered cloak to Dos.
Dos hesitated, then threw his Shadowcat cloak over.
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