#40Chapter 40 Blood debt must be paid with blood
The red monk Thoros came from Myr across the strait and came to Westeros to spread the faith of the Lord of Light.
During his time in Westeros, he lived through three kings.
When the Mad King ruled, he worked hard to promote the teachings of the King of Light to the Mad King, but the flame-obsessed king believed in dragon flames, not some messy King of Light.
This made Soros, the red-robed monk, confused and began to doubt himself.
Later, Robert Baratheon launched a rebellion and ascended the throne. The object of the missionary work of Thoros the Red Monk became Robert.
Although Robert was not a good king, he was a good friend to Thoros. They often enjoyed wine, fun, and participated in battles together. Robert was the first warrior to climb the wall of Pike.
As for those rules and regulations?
Go to hell!
It's a pity that Robert is dead.
Then the king turned into Joffrey, a little kid who didn't understand anything, and being protected by Queen Cersei was like a giant baby in a greenhouse, which was hard to understand.
During Joffrey's reign, Thoros the Red Monk fell out of favor, and Ned, Hand of the King, sent him and Lord Beric to the Riverlands to capture the Mountain, who had committed many crimes.
Just a few days after leaving the king, the situation suddenly changed, Ned was imprisoned by Joffrey, and the Hand of the King became Lord Tywin.
The sudden change made the identity of this group of people awkward. In addition, a war soon broke out in the riverlands, and these people suddenly became rebels.
The red robed monk Thoros and Beric figured out that Tywin must regard himself and others as enemies anyway, so he might as well stay here and help the civilians fight against the brutal Lannister army.
Thus the Brotherhood Without Banners was born.
It's a pity that the good times didn't last long, and they suffered heavy losses before even experiencing a few battles.
If it weren't for the young man in front of me, I'm afraid I would have to explain myself here.
The red-robed monk Thoros breathed a long sigh of relief. He looked around. The team led by this young man was definitely the most elite.
They are like ruthless monsters, fighting silently on the battlefield, but they instill the deepest fear in their enemies.
In just one charge, these cavalrymen scattered Sir Burton Craher's team to pieces, and the subsequent battle showed extremely high coordination and discipline.
In less than half an hour, the shouts on the battlefield gradually subsided, leaving only some painful and feeble moans.
Thoros the Red saw Ser Burton Craych and his lackeys tied up and thrown in front of Robb.
But there was no panic expression on their faces. According to the established rules of the nobles, they would not kill the nobles after catching them. Instead, they would go to the other party's family to ask for ransom.
The personal safety of nobles cannot be compared with that of ordinary civilians.
Robb looked at them expressionlessly: "Did you burn the village in front?"
Burton Craher raised his head and said, "It's me. I killed those children. As for those women, hey, there's nothing good-looking in the farmhouse, but even though they're ugly, they're barely usable."
Seeing his appearance, Robb felt a little funny. Even James the Kingslayer would maintain basic etiquette after being captured by him. This nobleman who appeared out of nowhere in front of him actually dared to talk to him like this. .
Robb didn't say anything. Little Jon beside him was furious and rushed up to give him a hard slap on the face with the hilt of his sword.
"Damn thing, watch your words! In front of you is the King of the North, the Guardian of the Riverlands, the young wolf master of the Stark family who has been in the family for thousands of years, and the most feared blood wolf on the battlefield! You should call him For your majesty!"
The green beard on the side was a little stunned, and secretly regretted in his heart, why couldn't he think of such flattering words?
Ser Burton Crayher spat: "Why do you return your Majesty to the King in the North? Lord Tywin will come to kill you sooner or later. The battlefield is not a place where you little kids can play house."
Robb didn't feel anything about what he said. His mind was filled with everything that happened to the village before. Such a beautiful village was burned down, and no one was left.
Those are all their own people!
My property!
my money!
So Robb looked at his wolf cavalry: "Those who have been loyal to the Dreadfort come out."
Five or six riders came out. They were working under Roose Bolton.
"Do you know how to peel? Lao Peipei should have taught you this, right?"
They nodded: "I know a little bit, but my skills are not as good as Mr. Bolton's. People may die if they are half peeled off."
Robb said lightly: "It's okay, you just skin him. I will treat him."
Upon hearing this horrific conversation, Sir Burton Craher suffered a cardiac arrest, his body began to tremble uncontrollably, and he began to be afraid.
"No! What do you want to do! Do you want to kill me? You can't do this!"
Little Jon stepped forward and gave him another blow, breaking his teeth: "I told you to call your Majesty!"
Sir Burton Craher hurriedly corrected: "Ah, yes, Your Majesty, please forgive me!"
Robb looked at him curiously: "Why can't I do this?"
Poor Sir Burton Craher's speech was a little leaky now. He cried bitterly: "Your Majesty, I beg you, don't do that! My family is rich, and they will be willing to pay ransom. For the loss of five villages, they will absolutely I will compensate you!"
Robb's eyes changed: "Five?"
Burton Crake was stunned for a moment, and quickly changed his words: "One by one, one by one! I just said nonsense, I remembered it wrong!"
Robb spread his hands: "What a pity, if you can listen to the requests of those you killed, maybe I will listen to your opinion."
"Ah?"
Sir Burton Crake was a little confused. Did those untouchables beg for mercy?
He didn't know at all. It was too chaotic at that time. He only cared about his own happiness and only listened to those screams, not to the begging for mercy!
Besides, even if they begged for mercy, how could he have the time to remember what the untouchables said?
Robb didn't want to pay attention to this scum anymore, and waved to several knights in the Dreadfort: "Start. After skinning, tie them to the spears and raise them up, and feed them regularly. With me, I guarantee that they can live for a week."
They?
The riders who followed Burton Crake turned pale, and they heard their fate in this word.
Without any hesitation, they all crawled to the ground, wailing loudly, tears and sweat flowing freely, they were asking Robb for forgiveness.
"Your Majesty, please forgive us! We are just following orders!"
"Don't do that, please kill me directly!"
"Your Majesty, I am willing to be your slave, please forgive me!"
Robb was a little annoyed by these voices: "It's so noisy, cut off their tongues."
The red monk Thoros looked at the violent things happening in front of him and didn't know what to say.
What kind of existence did I fall into?