Game of Thrones: Winter Lord

When Shagga, son of Dolf, woke up, he instinctively rubbed his eyes, trying to clear his vision.

Gunthor, Conn, Toril, the half-man… the devil? Why were they all sitting together by the fire like tribesmen sharing a meal?

"Ah, he's awake," Tyrion said.

He stepped closer to Shagga and added, "They want to hear your thoughts on everything they say. They claim that every free man has the right to speak."

"My thoughts? Cut the half-man in half and feed him to the goats?" Shagga muttered, scratching his head in confusion. He had no idea what was going on.

Tyrion's face darkened. "You'd best speak to him yourself."

Cole couldn't help but laugh. He had undergone professional training to suppress such reactions, but even he couldn't hold it in this time.

Gunthor repeated Tyrion's offer, and Shagga's eyes widened in astonishment. Was there truly such a good deal?

He leaned in close to Gunthor and whispered, "The whole clan should hear about this."

"We were just waiting for you to wake up before heading back to the tribe with the half-man," Gunthor replied.

Shagga jumped to his feet and cast a wary glance at Cole, feeling uneasy.

"If the half-man deceives us, we'll carve him up and feed him to the goats," he threatened.

No one quite understood why Shagga was so enthusiastic about this matter, but at least they had finally gained his trust.

Shagga and his tribesmen led Tyrion and his companions into the mountains, navigating through dense underbrush and winding stone paths. By the time the moon hung high in the sky, they reached the Stone Crows' camp. Thatched huts and leather tents lay scattered among jagged rocks, forming a natural fortress. The rough terrain was ill-suited for cavalry, which suggested they had chosen the location deliberately.

"No one can match the free folk in these mountains," Shagga declared with confidence.

"Shagga?" A group of patrolling clansmen turned toward the sound of his voice.

"Where have you been?" the leader of the group asked.

"I've done something great," Shagga boasted, stepping aside to reveal Tyrion, who stood half-hidden in the firelight. "I'm taking Tywin's son to see the elders."

With excitement, he led Tyrion and the others toward the heart of the camp, while the rest of the tribesmen dispersed, returning to their nightly routines.

The elder of the Stone Crows was ancient—thin and frail, with a voice as weak and hoarse as dry leaves rustling in the wind. His cloudy eyes studied Tyrion and his companions carefully.

"Shagga, aren't you going to introduce your friends?" he rasped.

"This is Tywin's son, of the Lannister tribe. And this is..." Shagga hesitated, unable to recall the names of the others. The names of these lowlanders were always troublesome to remember.

"Lannister of the Lion," the elder murmured, revealing Tyrion's identity with a single phrase.

Cole immediately sensed that this old man was different from the rest of the tribesmen.

"Yes, I am Tyrion Lannister, son of Lord Tywin Lannister," Tyrion said, offering a small bow.

"And what business does the Lannister family have with the Stone Crows?"

"It's a good thing, elder," Shagga said eagerly.

"A good thing?" The elder shook his head. "The Lannisters are at war. I doubt you bring us anything good."

"War?" Tyrion was taken aback. Had his father already marched against the Eyrie?

No, that was impossible. Tywin Lannister was no reckless fool. Besides, he'd likely be glad to see his despised son dead.

Perhaps it was his father's obsession with family honor—no one could insult the Lannisters and go unpunished. A Lannister always paid his debts.

Given his father's nature, he would have applied pressure on the North or Riverrun, but he wouldn't go too far. After all, he still had to maintain some pretense of respect for his brother-in-law, King Robert.

A thought struck him.

"I know what you need," Tyrion said smoothly. "I want the Stone Crows to fight for me. In return, I offer you wealth, armor, weapons… even land. No longer will you have to flee from the knights of the Vale."

The elder fell into deep thought. Though he was more knowledgeable than most, he still thought like a free clansman. If the rewards were great enough, the risks became worth taking.

"I will not gamble the fate of the Stone Crows so easily," he said at last. "And your words alone are not enough, Lannister."

Shagga grew impatient. "Elder, look at that sword! There are many, many more like it in the Sons of Tywin's army!"

Elder Shiya glanced at his foolish warrior, sighed inwardly, and changed the subject. "If you can secure the approval of several other mountain clans, then I will agree to let Shagga lead our warriors into battle for you."

Good gods, Cole thought to himself. This was a clear attempt to drag the other tribes into the fray.

If the gamble paid off, they would all share the spoils—Tyrion had certainly made enough lofty promises. And if they lost? Well, it would just be another clash between the mountain clans. As long as everyone suffered losses, no one tribe would gain too much power, keeping the balance intact.

But now the challenge fell to Tyrion. He had to convince the other tribes to fight for him, or he wouldn't get the Stone Crows' support.

Yet all he wanted was to return to the Riverlands, sink into a soft feather bed, and sip a cup of sweet wine.

Tyrion glanced around. He was already deep within the heart of the Stone Crow camp, and he had talked himself into a corner. Even if he wanted to leave now, these savages wouldn't let him. Until they got what he had promised, did he really think they'd just let him walk away unharmed?

No matter how skilled Cole and Bronn were, they couldn't take on an entire tribe.

He had no choice but to see this through.

"Very well," Tyrion declared. "I will persuade the other tribes. But the Stone Crows must send men to protect us. If I'm dead, you'll get nothing."

The elder finally grinned, revealing a mouth empty of teeth, a dark void where they had once been. "Shagga will escort you."

Tyrion forced a smile in return, though it felt rather strained.

Shagga led them to a small thatched hut, then pointed to another one nearby. "I live there. Call for me if you need anything."

With that, he left them to settle in.

Bronn kicked at the dead leaves and twigs littering the floor. "The places these mountain folk keep for guests are worse than stables."

"You can't expect them to provide you with a wool-stuffed bed," Cole said as he stepped into the low-roofed hut. "At least tonight, you don't have to worry about a shadowcat tearing your throat out."

"These wildlings aren't much different from shadowcats," Bronn scoffed. "Maybe some free woman will climb on top of you and make a man out of you."

"Then you'd best watch out that your second brother doesn't get bitten off," Tyrion shot back, his worries easing slightly with the jest.

Cole looked between the two of them, shaking his head. Were these two really the men he was stuck with? Crouching Dragon and Phoenix Chick indeed

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