Watching him grow out of all his earlier gloom, once again turning into the cheerful Jaime Lannister he had once been, Ronin couldn't help but laugh.
He shook his head, teasing in a playful tone, "You certainly look refreshed, Ser Lannister."
"What happened? Did Roose Bolton arrange some kind of 'full service' last night to help you regain your vigor?"
"I know there are a few well-known brothels in Harrenhal. I've been there before, and I must say, their skills are quite good."
He wasn't boasting. His predecessor really had been frugal enough to save money to visit Harrenhal twice just for that—though it had been the lowest tier…
But that's how men are: save where you can, spend where you must.
Even if you starve, you must spend money where it counts.
"No, no, no, my dear Ronin."
Jaime shook his head repeatedly, but the radiant smile on his face told another story. Last night was indeed not half bad.
His emerald eyes drifted toward Brienne, who looked embarrassed in her clothes. He winked slyly, then deliberately raised his voice, ensuring everyone on the training ground could hear.
"My experience was far more wonderful than any of those ordinary services!"
"Yesterday, I had the pleasure of sharing a truly unforgettable 'mandarin duck bath' with a certain high-born lady!"
"The feeling...was too wonderful to describe. It washed away all my exhaustion and bad luck from the journey!"
Hearing this, Ronin glanced at Brienne and immediately remembered that this scene had also occurred in the original story. But it was definitely not as vulgar as Jaime made it sound.
He was most likely teasing the taciturn woman from Tarth. Sure enough, upon hearing his words, Brienne's face instantly flushed bright red.
"Shut your filthy mouth, Jaime!"
Furious and humiliated, she stepped forward and clenched her fists, ready to drag Jaime off his horse.
What was surprising, however, was that she didn't call him "Kingslayer".
Only Iggo, standing nearby, narrowed his eyes. His huge hand tightened around his sword hilt as he stared at Jaime's smug, punchable face.
He seemed to be considering whether he should follow Dothraki tradition and challenge the blond bastard to a duel to the death to claim the tall woman for himself.
But after weighing the choice for a moment, he slowly released the sword hilt and shook his head.
Defeating a cripple wouldn't demonstrate the valor of a Dothraki warrior. It might even make the the tall and strong, bear-like woman look unfavorably upon him.
On his horse, Jaime saw Brienne's fierce expression and laughed even more proudly, as if he had already won a battle. He continued his shameless teasing.
The atmosphere in the training ground suddenly became relaxed and harmonious, and all the recent bloodshed, scheming, and tension faded away for a moment.
But this rare moment of harmony was quickly broken by loud shouts and curses.
"You damned bastard! You sewer rat! I finally caught you!"
"Drag him to the stables!"
"I'm going to cut off his filthy little thing, toss it into the feeding trough, and make him watch the warhorses chew up and swallow it!"
Turning to look, they saw Roose Bolton's guard captain—Walton—leading a group of grim-looking soldiers, roughly dragging a person across the training ground.
The man struggled desperately, letting out muffled cries, but with his hands and feet tightly bound by ropes, escaping was impossible.
Ronin frowned, instinctively wanting to turn his head away. During wartime, especially in territory occupied by the Bolton family, these cruel and bloody displays could be seen every day; it was normal.
But just as he was about to turn away, he keenly caught the appearance of the man being dragged with his enhanced perception.
"Rorge!"
He blurted the name out.
"Rorge?"
Hearing this, Jaime and the other two, who had no intention of interfering either, looked more closely.
Sure enough, with his short, sturdy build and the faint black hair covering his body, who else could it be but Rorge?
"The survivor from the Brave Companions?"
Jaime leaned from his saddle and whispered into Ronin's ear, "Didn't you settle him in a room? How did Roose Bolton's men catch him?"
"Who knows?"
Ronin shrugged, a hint of gloom on his face, and responded quietly. "This is their territory. They probably even count every hair in your underpants."
"Oh, speaking of which, do you wear underpants?"
"No proper man wears underpants—they're too restrictive!" Jaime scoffed dismissively, then continued to ask, "That's your spoils of war. What do you say? Should we try getting him back?"
Ronin narrowed his eyes, falling into thought. Rorge was indeed quite useful to him, but openly confronting Roose Bolton's men head-on right before their departure was simply too risky.
He thought for about two or three seconds, ultimately deciding to concede.
Shaking his head, he spoke reluctantly. "Forget it, Jaime. We're leaving soon. It's best not to cause trouble…"
"Alright I get it!"
Jaime suddenly interjected, shouting excitedly. Not giving Ronin any chance to explain, he flashed a confident "leave it to me" smile and kicked his horse's flanks.
"Hah!"
The warhorse neighed loudly and charged across the training ground, its hooves kicking up mud as it raced toward Walton and his men!
Watching Jaime's disappearing figure, Ronin couldn't help but curse.
What did "I get it" even mean?!
But since Jaime had already charged ahead, could he really just stand by and abandon him?
Ronin made a quick decision, let out a frustrated sigh, and dashed after him.
Although Brienne and Iggo were equally confused, but seeing that both Ronin and Jaime had taken action, they quickly followed after them.
Brienne, dressed in a gown, ran faster than both of them, even having the presence of mind to grab a rake from beside the stables before she sprinted.
Clip-clop… clip-clop… The pounding of hooves grew louder.
Walton, who was busy shouting orders and kicking Rorge in the waist and stomach, heard the noise behind him and turned back impatiently.
Just one glance made his scalp tingle.
A massive horse, appearing almost out of nowhere, was charging rapidly at him, showing no signs of stopping!
On its back, the golden-haired Kingslayer wore a chilling, crazed grin, controlling the reins with one hand.
"Isn't that—my horse?!" The thought flashed by in his mind but vanished quickly as fear overwhelmed him.
Despite being a seasoned warrior, facing a warhorse galloping rapidly toward him, Walton's legs turned to jelly.
It was no joke; he could even smell the stench of animal sweat mixed with leather!
"Gods above!" Walton cried out in desperation and fell backward into the mud.
Just at that moment, Jaime on horseback let out a long whistle and sharply pulled back on the reins with his left hand! The charging horse reared up, its front hooves slashing the air a few times.
Then its hooves slammed into the ground half a meter from Walton's head, splattering mud all over his deathly pale face.
Walton stiffly lifted his head to see Jaime sitting proudly on the horse, looking down at him with a face full of playful mockery.
Raising an eyebrow, the golden-haired, green-eyed Lannister rested his elbow on the horse's neck, leaning slightly, and teased, "Yo!"
"Did I frighten you, my lady?"
Walton, still a bit fear stricken, stiffly gazed at the horse a few inches away from him and he could swear on every god in existence: this damned horse was his. He'd had it for over ten years!
"You thief—you stole my horse!" he pointed at Jaime and shouted angrily.
Jaime straightened his back and retorted, "Mind your words, Captain Walton. I am a Lannister—my piss is gold."
"As for this horse, Lord Bolton gave it to me." He said righteously, "If yours is gone, what does that have to do with me?"
His words made Walton even more furious. Wiping mud from his face, he was about to continue arguing when suddenly, a stream of hot liquid gushed out from between the horse's legs.
Fortunately, Walton reacted quickly and scrambled backward, narrowly avoiding being sprayed in the face.
The hot stream, carrying a strong, pungent odor, shot onto the muddy ground where he had just been sitting, almost grazing his nose.
Walton scrambled away, getting up awkwardly and looking utterly disheveled and furious.
"You—" Just as he was about to start cursing again, Ronin and the others arrived, forcing Walton to swallow his words.
Brienne and Iggo, both experienced warriors, instinctively formed a half-circle with Ronin without needing any instructions.
However, Walton's side outnumbered them slightly, and soon the two sides entered a tense standoff.
Ronin didn't speak right away. Instead, his gaze first fell upon Rorge, who was tied up like a wild boar.
It must be said that this one had decent physical fitness. He had been unconscious when they arrived at Harrenhal yesterday, but now he was already wriggling on the ground, even having the energy to glare at them
Although his wounds still oozed a little blood, he wasn't in any life-threatening danger. Seeing that, Ronin heaved a sigh of relief and then turned to Walton.
"Captain Walton." He spoke softly, letting the aura of Majesty Lv2 emanate unrestrained.
His voice made Walton, who was still in a fit of rage, freeze slightly, feeling a tremor in his heart.
As if compelled by an invisible force, he involuntarily shifted his attention from Jaime to Ronin.
The aura around him gave Walton the same uneasy feeling he had when facing Roose Bolton. He felt like something bad would happen if he crossed this man.
But as a guard captain of House Bolton, he also had his own pride and was unwilling to back down. In the end, he swallowed the bullet and spoke up. "Lord Bolton ordered all remnants of the Brave Companions to be executed!"
"This bastard was sneaking around the castle like a rat, and I caught him myself. I am only obeying the Lord's orders!"
He emphasized Lord Roose Bolton's order, trying to stand his ground by relying on his liege's name.
However, Ronin merely sneered. "Your logic is flawed, Captain. He is my captive, so he is naturally under my authority. Lord Bolton's order does not apply to him."
"Your captive?" Walton spat. "Don't give me that!"
"This bastard dared to fight me over Wells, the top prostitute at the 'Red Hole,' just half a month ago! Even if the Seven Gods were standing here today, I'd still kill him!"
"Take him!" he ordered, and the surrounding Northern soldiers prepared to rush forward.
"Stop!" Ronin snapped, his gaze icy cold. The pressure of Majesty Lv2 intensified, becoming almost palpable.
Brienne and Iggo also stepped forward immediately, their presence adding to the pressure, momentarily intimidating Walton and the soldiers.
Seeing them come to a halt, Ronin sighed with relief. Harrenhal was, after all, the garrison for the Bolton army. Making a commotion here could attract unwanted attention, making the situation difficult to manage later.
"Very well, Captain Walton. If you insist on taking him, then let us talk business."
While Walton was hesitating whether to take further action, Ronin's voice rang out, changing the subject.
Under the other party's somewhat astonished gaze, Ronin raised his index finger. "One thousand gold dragons."
"According to Westerosi custom, if you wish to ransom him, then pay one thousand gold dragons."
"After that, the man is yours, and whatever you do with him is none of my concern."
"H-how much???" Hearing the price quoted by Ronin, Walton's eyes widened in disbelief.
"This bastard is worth a thousand gold dragons? Are you kidding me? The Kingslayer's bounty is only a thousand!" he shouted, pointing at Jaime.
Ronin's expression remained unchanged. He merely tilted his head and explained patiently, "The accounts cannot be calculated that way."
"Ser Jaime's ransom is a one-time thing because he is a member of the Kingsguard and cannot marry or have children. But Rorge…"
Ronin nudged him lightly with his foot. "He is different."
"He will work for me and create value. Then he will marry and have children. His children will work for me, and their children will too… this cycle will never end."
"So, if you consider the lifetime value of him and all his descendants, isn't a thousand gold dragons fair? This is already a discounted price. I'm giving it to you only out of respect for Lord Bolton."
Ronin shrugged, wearing an expression that said, "You've gotten a huge bargain."
Walton was absolutely dumbfounded, his mouth agape, lost for words. The explanation Ronin gave... almost sounded logical. But it clearly treated him like a fool!
Walton's chest rose and fell violently, making his face flush crimson.
Wasn't this just bullying an honest man?!
jaime spoke up at the perfect moment from atop his horse. "I suggest you seriously consider Ser Ronin's proposal, Captain Walton. You have only two choices: either pay the ransom, or immediately release the man."
Saying this, he leaned slightly, a hint of malice flashing in his emerald eyes. "Otherwise, when I return to King's Landing, I might casually mention to my father…"
"That Vargo Hoat ordered my hand to be cut off—and the man who swung the blade… was you."
The moment those words were spoken, Walton felt a chill run up his spine.
"Slander!"
Walton stomped his feet in panic, pointing at Jaime in horror. "You're slandering me! A man as honorable as Lord Tywin Lannister would never believe empty words without any evidence!"
This accusation… it was too malicious! As expected from a man titled "Kingslayer." He was simply inhumane!
However, seeing his reaction, Jaime grew even more smug. Straightening proudly in the saddle, he looked down with a cold smile and said softly.
"Then Captain…"
"Whose words do you think my father will believe? Yours or mine?"