Chapter 169: The Beast Beneath the Mask

The woods held no birdsong.

Instead, beneath the sighing wind and rustling leaves, there came the faint scrape of armor plates and steel brushing against steel.

Night had already settled fully by now. Any proper caravan, lord, or armed escort should already have found shelter at an inn.

The King’s Road was simple enough. Anyone who had traveled it more than a few times knew how to pace the journey so they could spend the night somewhere warm, with ale, food, and firelight.

Which meant the people waiting here at this hour could only be one thing.

When Eddard heard Lannor’s low warning, his tired eyes widened slightly. For a heartbeat, the stern old face almost turned toward the young man, as though to ask whether he was serious.

But Eddard Stark had commanded men in war before.

He crushed the instinct immediately.

Without changing expression, he rode past the five guards behind him. The group looked as though it were simply turning around to head back.

Then, the instant Eddard reached the opposite end of the formation, he suddenly roared:

“Retreat! Full speed!”

The calm rhythm of hooves exploded into a frantic thunder. Mud and dirt sprayed behind the charging horses.

“Move, damn you!” Lannor barked at the five stunned guards from the rear. “Ride!”

The men jolted awake and immediately spurred their mounts after Eddard.

Lannor’s reaction had bought them time.

Only after the guards’ horses had already begun accelerating did crashing sounds erupt from the forest behind them.

In that brief moment alone, they had already gained over fifteen meters. More importantly, their horses had reached full speed first.

Then a brutal roar burst from the woods, deep and savage as a maddened bear.

“Loose arrows, you idiots! Loose them all! Bring down Eddard Stark!”

Lannor had heard that voice before at the tournament grounds.

Just as Eddard predicted, the man leading the interception was the Mountain himself, Gregor Clegane.