The news that Catelyn, the eldest daughter of the Duke of Riverrun in the Riverlands, was to be betrothed to Brandon Stark arrived just as Viserys and Robert's party reached Gods Eye Lake.
They had been traveling along the lake for days, camping in this scenic spot. The fertile Riverlands farmers weren't doing too badly, and Viserys could spend each night under a real roof. Robert was also under the same roof, doing what he pleased with the village girls he found attractive. Worse still, because Robert was a handsome man with blue eyes at this time, and generous with his money, Viserys watched him being fawned over by several women. Robert laughed heartily, took a satisfying sip of wine, and gave one of them a playful pat on the backside.
"Come to my room tonight, you beautiful lakeside flower."
Viserys felt suffocated. He quickly finished his homemade sandwich and slipped out the door of the inn, which was filled with a lively atmosphere, and walked towards Gods Eye Lake.
Black swans were there, lowering their necks and preening their feathers. The lake water was a beautiful green and warm, said to be because the bones of the dragon Vhagar emitted flames at the bottom of the lake. This dragon had originally belonged to Queen Visenya. During the Dance of the Dragons, the 181-year-old giant dragon roared and fought with the enemy, who was riding a dragon of the same species, a young dragon called Caraxes, and they perished together in the lake. Years later, its skull was found and hung on the wall of the Red Keep's throne room.
Viserys regretted this history the most. The dragons were pointlessly consumed, and from then on, the Targaryen family declined. Without dragons they could ride, they gradually turned from demigods into mortals in the eyes of the surrounding lords. King Aegon V had sympathized with the people and wanted to reduce the power of the nobles, but he was powerless. He wanted to summon dragons to help himself, but the result was the fire at Summerhall, and his brother was born on that sad day.
He missed Rhaegar. Picking up a stone, he tossed it onto the lake's surface—it skipped beautifully, then sank, just like the heroes who had emerged one after another in the history of the civil war.
Ahead of the lake, a stone building much larger than the Red Keep in King's Landing was reflected in the distance: Harrenhal. This place reminded Viserys of the major events that would happen here in the original world a few years later. His brother Rhaegar and the increasingly mad Aerys participated in the tournament held by Lord Whent of Harrenhal. It was there that his married brother met the love of his life, Lyanna. A year later, the last glimmer of hope for the Targaryen dynasty died on the banks of the Trident River, and the world was turned upside down.
He gritted his teeth, thinking, Everything will be different. His brother would remain unmarried, and he would prevent Lyanna from being betrothed to Robert.
Viserys had much more to worry about, and he lay down on the decaying grass, contemplating the basic situation in the Riverlands. He didn't know which of the Stark brothers Catelyn would marry in this life. After all, compared to women like Visenya and Queen Alysanne, she was just a short-sighted, ordinary lady of the house, lacking political vision, and with an even more troublesome younger sister. He didn't want to court or cultivate the Tully Family, who had produced such a daughter; instead, he was interested in undermining them.
During the War of the Usurper, some of the Tullys' vassals had refused to fight for their liege lords, choosing to swear allegiance to the Targaryens. Their subsequent fates were, of course, miserable. Now, Viserys thought, I am still a prince, after all. What methods can I use to win over and support these families? First, he should at least get to know the heads of the staunch royalist families and their sons.
His small schemes quickly saw a glimmer of hope: Robert excitedly told him that Riverrun would be holding a large jousting tournament, with the nobles of the Riverlands attending with their retinues.
Excellent. Viserys saw that Robert had no intention of hurrying north, and was obviously going to participate in the tournament, which caused him to sneer inwardly.
Good. The more time he spent outside, the more names of women he had slept with would be recorded in his parchment notebook. He regarded him as a rutting boar: farm girls, cooks, prostitutes, big-breasted and plump-hipped, accepting all comers. Each time he sought pleasure, Robert would spontaneously spout a string of love vows and sweet nothings, only to forget them all the next day—ignoring bastard children. His recklessness and irresponsibility concentrated all the traits that Viserys despised.
The wedding party continued north along the river, and after traveling for a while, they arrived at a small town in the Riverlands one evening. It was close to Riverrun, and Viserys found that there were more and more knightly parties setting up tents nearby. He looked at their heraldic banners and found that not only the Riverlands, but also parties from the Vale and the Westerlands had come to participate in the jousting tournament. Adding the young lord of the Stormlands and the betrothed party from the North, roughly the Seven Kingdoms' competitors were assembled.
After setting up the tents, Robert couldn't wait to take some of his attendants to the only tavern in town—Viserys was unwilling to go along to a place filled with soliciting women, foul-smelling travelers, and food so bad it made you question life, but as a page, he had no choice.
"If you don't want to come in, freeze your arse off outside!" Robert bellowed, looking at him. "Seven pints of ale for everyone, bring out all the pies, and just for that boy---" he pointed at Viserys at the door, "Give him two fresh eggs straight from the chicken coop, light a fire, and boil them in the pot, shell and all."
The innkeeper eagerly agreed, fawning over the noble lords. Viserys stood at the door in his hooded cloak, shivering in the wind. He could see two other people inside, a man and a woman, both helping out as servants. Viserys knew at a glance that Robert wouldn't be lonely tonight.
How many engagement gifts did he have from Winterfell? He gave a piece of jewelry for every woman he slept with on the road. Could he gather enough to forge a set of golden armor? He would make a note of this as well, just you wait!
While he was eating, another group of people approached the tavern. The leading attendant rudely shoved Viserys aside at the door. He frowned and turned to look, startled. The leader, broad-shouldered and powerfully built, was so tall that he blocked most of the lamplight. He carried a greatsword on his back and wore heavy armor. The ground trembled with each step he took.
Viserys's gaze fell on the shield carried by the attendant behind him. It bore the emblem of three black dogs.
He knew who this man was. Viserys's eyes turned cold, and he speared his boiled egg with his fork, piercing it through.
Seeing another group of new customers, the innkeeper bowed repeatedly, flattering them as he went. He told the girl to pour the finest ale, and the boy to feed the horses. Viserys pulled his hood further down, completely covering his hair, and quietly slipped next to Robert, observing the group's every move from close range.
The leader. He thought, deep hatred. I will find a chance to kill him.
Aegon, one of the Clegane men who had accompanied Gregor from the Westerlands to Riverrun for the tourney, was a lecher by nature. The moment he entered the small, out-of-the-way inn, his eyes were fixed on the serving girl. Just look at those breasts! Fed by the aroma of barley wine!
He drank more and more, his eyes glued to her, feeling the thing below already eager to stand at attention – all thanks to the fiery red-haired little whore who was too alluring!
He belched and grabbed the girl who came to pour more wine, his large hand reaching for her bodice, grabbing and kneading...
The girl threw down the wine jug and screamed.
Viserys looked at Robert. The man showed no reaction?! "Why don't you stop him? Aren't you interested in her?"
Robert took a large gulp. "What does it matter? I'll sleep with her tonight. Letting someone else have a quick shag first, to warm her up? Do you think the serving girls in these inns are still virgins? Hey! Boy! What are you looking at me like that for?!"
Viserys couldn't control his hatred and disgust. He reached for his silver sword.
The trembling shopkeeper pleaded, "My Lord, my Lord! My daughter is already married! To that young man just now, please don't do this."
"She's just a whore anyway. She's probably serviced plenty of noble knights passing through, old man! This is called blessing her with the lance and dagger of a great knight, do you understand?!"
The crowd around them roared with laughter.
"She... she's not a wh..."
Gregor stood up, and the poor shopkeeper thought he would restrain his men. Instead, Gregor pulled out a silver stag and tossed it onto the table with a clatter.
"She is now."
Gregor gestured to his men. Immediately, someone grabbed the poor woman, tearing off her dress. Her two plump thighs were exposed, hanging at the edge of the table, waiting for Gregor to be the first to... finish. It was clear they had done this many times before.
At this moment, the boy from outside—her husband—rushed in, wielding a hoe. He swung it futilely twice before being seized by the group.
"How dare you be rude to a knight?" Raff sneered, a cruel smile on his face. He pulled out a dagger, ready to stab the boy in the gut!
A wine jug flew out of nowhere, hitting him squarely in the back of the head! The pottery shattered, and wine splattered everywhere. Raff touched his head and found blood!
Viserys threw the jug and rushed forward, drawing his sword in the same instant! "You vile scum, you all deserve to rot in hell!!"
"Get him." Gregor didn't stop his assault, and gave the order. "I'll twist his head off."
"Hey, hey!" Robert stood up. "Whoever you are, he's my squire!!"
Gregor turned his head, sizing up the rest of the group.
Viserys, without a second thought, followed the Sword God of Dawn's teachings – he swiftly stabbed at the nearest Aegon!
A scream. Aegon clutched his stomach, falling to the ground. Blood gushed out from between his fingers—
This was Viserys's first time truly harming someone, but of course, he was already anticipating what he would be doing in the near future. He didn't plan on giving Robert Baratheon and Gregor a chance for peaceful talks over drinks.
The little prince drew his bloodied silver sword and lunged at another target. He was a good student of the Sword God: he remembered to rotate his wrist, to use the upper part of the sword to collide with the lower part of his opponent's, and to change quickly, bypassing their defense, and to thrust with speed!!
Then he quickly realized that dueling swordplay was only useful for duels; it was not enough for a brawl.
The hotel was now a battlefield. Seeing him hurt his own people, Gregor ordered that the child be killed. Robert, in turn, had to jump up in annoyance, swinging his hammer to smash those who were trying to attack Viserys.
The servants on both sides drew their weapons and fell into a brawl. Battle axes, long axes, clubs, and hammers flew everywhere. One axe chopped down, and the heavy wooden table collapsed, splinters flying. Before they could raise their weapons again, daggers were plunged into their kidneys.
Viserys retreated to the corner, quietly approaching the central figures of the brawl: Robert and Gregor were fighting. Viserys would have cheered if either of them had killed the other. If Robert died here, the Stormlands would be at odds with the Westerlands, and Robert would have died a worthwhile death. Hopefully, he can make use of this trash and severely injure Gregor—Viserys planned to rush over and take advantage of the situation, using his dagger to slit Gregor's throat.
Robert raised his hammer and smashed down, Gregor used his greatsword to block. The brute force caused the hammer to stall—a push, then a slash at his opponent. A deep mark was carved into the hard dirt ground. Robert rolled to the side to dodge, his face flushed red, and he gritted his teeth, cursing.
Gregor raised his sword again to slash. Robert's armor protected him—the edge of the sword left a harsh scraping sound on the heavy armor. Robert quickly spun around and struck again with the hammer! The sharp end of the hammer was aimed to pierce Gregor's shoulder!
Gregor switched to using the sword with one hand! One of his hands grabbed Robert's arm and squeezed hard—Robert screamed in pain!!! He yelled, using the brute force to counter the wild boar—the two men were locked in a stalemate.
Seeing this, Viserys drew his dagger and charged into the battle! He was going to cut Gregor's throat!!
However, Viserys, who had only received duel training and had no actual experience in group brawls, was too naive. Gregor, a killing machine who had grown up in slaughter and violence, had defensive instincts—the greatsword turned around and stabbed at the young prince from under Robert's ribs. Viserys jumped away, Robert had already been flung aside, and Gregor's free hand grabbed at him!!
Viserys was grabbed by the arm and dragged over without any effort. He felt intense pain and became anxious, remembering the Red Viper's fate. Fear gripped him for the first time, and the dagger in his other hand swung wildly!! At this moment, Robert's warhammer also smashed towards Gregor in time! He cursed loudly, "Get the hell out of here!! Get out!!"
Gregor was hit in the shoulder, and he loosened his grip in pain. Viserys escaped, relieved and resentful of his own uselessness. Gregor roared and slashed at Robert repeatedly!
Robert was also injured in the arm, and could only manage to block. Knowing his own limitations now, Viserys didn't dare approach the killer. Clutching his arm, which he estimated was broken, he was drenched in sweat from the pain. Looking at the chaotic large-scale brawl: the fragile outer wall of the tavern had already been breached, with a large hole ripped in it. Someone had been thrown out, and it wasn't clear which side they were on. The owner, along with his daughter and son-in-law, had long since fled. Only smashed wine barrels and the fire still burning in the corner fireplace remained beneath the ceiling.
Fire?
Viserys gasped, reaching for a remaining wine jug. He threw it with precision, hitting Gregor. It didn't bother the armored man. A flurry of strikes forced Robert to retreat.
Viserys then broke all the remaining wine, but the ale of this backward world had an alcohol content close to zero and couldn't be ignited like spirits. He simply pulled a burning piece of firewood from the hearth and wielded it as his new sword, swinging it with one hand.
Where was the grease? In the chaos, he set fire to the greasy hem of a Westerlands man's never-changed robe. The man jumped up, howling and flailing, before falling to the ground, rolling around wildly, and being trampled by someone. Viserys finally found a jar of low-quality lard for meat pies on the counter!
He threw it at Gregor again—thwack—the lard splattered everywhere. A large blob of grease stuck to the back of his armor, then fell off. Viserys furiously threw another bundle of dry firewood pulled from the hearth.
The ground burst into flames. A fire ignited, consuming the broken wooden tables and benches, as well as the greasy flammable materials in the space—including the whale oil that the servant was carrying, which had already been knocked over and was originally used to wipe weapons, armor, and shields.
Fire! Several people were on fire, including Gregor's hair – it had gotten splashed with lard.
The massive brute, built like a tower, was enraged. He dropped his greatsword and slapped at his head with all his might, roaring and cursing. His few attendants, seeing what had happened, immediately scrambled to find water to put out the flames.
The rest of the people, afraid to stay inside, rushed out. Viserys glanced at Robert and took off running.
Young Robert couldn't beat the young Mountain. Once free, he still furiously swung his hammer, smashing anyone who got in his way, and also charged out of the tavern.
Then came Gregor, crashing out like a runaway rhino, armor and flames still clinging to him. He rolled on the ground – the grease fire was finally extinguished. The burns and dirt made his face even more hideous. "I'll kill you all!" he roared.
The fire inside the tavern raged, growing more intense. People in the town cried out and ran out. The men tried to get water from the fountain in the town center to put out the fire – Viserys, squeezed into the center of the Stormlands' attendants, gasped for breath, his arm aching terribly. He said to Robert beside him, "We must let the attendants help put out the fire first."
Robert also gasped and issued the order. Gregor's escaped attendants looked at him, but Gregor only repeated, "Kill them!"
Were they going to have another brawl in front of the fire? Both sides drew their weapons and faced each other, so no townsfolk dared to step forward to fight the fire. They watched the flames burn through the roof with a mixture of tension and fear.
At that moment, another well-ordered troop arrived at the town entrance. They wore gleaming armor and were clearly categorized: longbowmen, spearmen, some carrying battle axes, others wielding flails. They rode four horses abreast, nearly blocking the entire cobblestone road. However, on receiving a command, the knights' formation quickly shifted into two columns, leaving half the passage clear.
Following the cavalry came men in golden robes. Then, a white-robed knight appeared, riding alongside a knight in a black helmet, whose chest bore the ruby-encrusted emblem of the Three-Headed Dragon.
He saw the thick smoke billowing in the distance and frowned.