Chapter 47: Xieer Village

In the open space at the center of the village, Arthur and his group sat on wooden stools brought out by the villagers, eating around a table.

It was too late to call it dinner, yet past the time for lunch.

Neither one nor the other, they only sought to fill their bellies.

Fortunately, the food was quite delicious; after Arthur polished off half a chicken, a lamb leg, and three freshly baked loaves of bread, his stomach finally stopped growling.

"Where is the Village Chief? Come here for a moment," he ordered after taking a deep gulp of ale.

A gaunt old man wearing a wheat-colored shirt and gray linen trousers walked over, a fawning smile on his face.

"My lord, are you satisfied with our hospitality?"

Arthur nodded, "How much do I owe you?"

This was the eastern part of the Riverlands, more prosperous than the west upstream of the Red Fork, but as it was a rural village, he could not gauge the prices.

"Six Silver Stags will be quite enough for us," the old man said, smiling even more broadly upon hearing Arthur take the initiative to pay.

Based on his extensive life experience, nobles who could interact with commoners like this often had noble characters, though they were few and far between.

The more common situation was that they, the villagers, would provide labor and food only to receive a lashing in return.

Two half-grown lambs, seven chickens, plus five or six basins of fruits and vegetables, and unlimited ale and bread—all for only six Silver Stags; Arthur felt it was a bargain.

He took eight Silver Stags from his purse and slapped six into the old man's hand first, "This is for the meal."

Then he placed the remaining two into the old man's other hand, "This is a tip for you, to cover your labor and fodder for the horses."

The Village Chief gripped his hands tight and quickly pulled his arms back to his sides, as if afraid Arthur might change his mind.

Yet while doing so, the smile on his face grew even wider, "It is our honor to satisfy you, my lords. I shall not disturb you further."

Saying this, he prepared to step back and leave.

But Arthur pulled out a Gold Dragon—a gleaming Gold Dragon—which made the old man stop his retreat.

Arthur flipped the Gold Dragon up with his thumb and caught it in his palm, repeating this a few times.

The Village Chief's glowing eyes rose and fell with the coin, "My lord, just say the word; we will certainly fulfill your requirements."

At this moment, he believed that if the lord before him asked him to dig up his dead wife, he would immediately pull her from the grave to satisfy some of the lord's peculiar tastes.

"I need a few strong horses to carry me and my luggage, and I also need a solution for that lame red horse."

The old man's wrinkled face suddenly filled with vigor, and he said excitedly, "No problem at all. We can find a few strong ones among the plowing horses in our village. Although they cannot compare to the warhorses of you lords, they will have the same effect if you take turns riding them, and they will not delay your business at all."

"As for that red horse, I think we can take care of it until it fully recovers. I guarantee that when you return from King's Landing and pass through here, you will see its red coat become sleek and shiny again."

Arthur asked in return, "How do you know we will definitely pass through here on our return?"

The old man smiled fawningly, "Even if you don't pass through here, you could send a subordinate to pick up your little treasure. Our village cannot walk away, could it? Surely we wouldn't let hundreds of villagers hide far away just because of one horse?"

Arthur nodded, accepting the old man's words, "Go do it quickly; we will set off as soon as we finish eating."

He tossed the Gold Dragon to the Village Chief.

"What is your village called?" Desmond asked from the side.

"Xieer, Xieercun, my lord." The old Village Chief ran off nimbly, yet turned his head back to answer.

Arthur felt the name of this village was very familiar; after sifting through his memories, he remembered it was a village slaughtered by The Mountain.

According to the original plot, after Gregor Clegane received orders at Casterly Rock from the Lannister Jiaodu, Duke Tywin, he marched east along the Golden Road, crossed the Blackwater River, and headed north, beginning a campaign of burning, killing, and looting from the east side of the Gods Eye all the way to the upper reaches of the Red Fork.

The purpose of this was, firstly, to force the lords of the Riverlands to disperse their forces; secondly, to reduce the Riverlands' capacity for war mobilization; and thirdly, to keep the River lords busy pacifying their own lands, leaving them unable to respond to the summons of their liege lord, the Tully family.

Tywin, the man who had served as Hand of the King to the Mad King for twenty years—when it came to using his brain, few in the Seven Kingdoms could compare.

The success of this strategy caused the Tully family to lose almost all the hearts of the Riverlands people.

Not long after the war began, there was a well-known saying: one spit for the Lannisters, one for the Starks, and the remaining one for the Tullys.

Arthur had not expected that the village he encountered by chance would be a target of The Mountain's "benevolent" acts.

It seemed that there was a providence in the dark; he and The Mountain were destined to clash.

In a short while, the Village Chief had arrived before Arthur with several villagers and three thin horses.

"My lord, are you satisfied with these horses?"

Though the horses were thin, their frames were quite large, and they would have no problem carrying a person.

One for Arthur to ride, one to carry Arthur's Great Hammer and Dawn Sword, and one as a spare—this was enough for Arthur to reach King's Landing.

The Lord of Red Mill smiled at the Village Chief, "I am very satisfied. In return for how well you have served us, I am willing to make a prophecy for your village and give you some advice. Would you like to hear it?"

He was suddenly inspired to give these poor people a hint.

The Village Chief did not know what this lord was up to, but for the sake of the Gold Dragon and Silver Stags, he smiled and said, "Speak, my lord, speak. I will certainly stop and keep it in my heart, and when the day comes that the prophecy comes true, I will act according to your advice."

Patrick, standing to the side, watched Arthur's actions with curiosity and asked Desmond, "What is he doing? Making a prophecy, giving advice—who does he think he is?"

Desmond was also unsure, "Let's watch. Mr. Arthur is not the type to play at being a mystic."

Arthur walked out of the area with the tables and stools, stood still in the open space, let his hands hang naturally, and closed his eyes tightly, as if sensing some mysterious presence.

Then, he suddenly raised his right arm high above his head, muttering something as if communicating with something.

The reason he raised his right hand instead of both was that he did not want to perform a French military salute.

Arthur had previously decided to go to King's Landing to play the mystic and make money; this time, by giving a prophecy and advice to the villagers of Xieercun, he was preparing to practice.

The attendants of the three men and the surrounding villagers were all attracted by his behavior; they whispered to each other, discussing what this lord was doing.

Feeling that he had put on a convincing enough act, Arthur let out a sudden shout, then opened his eyes and panted heavily.

"I prophesy: in a little over a month, your village will be burned, killed, and looted by bandits disguised as an army led by the tallest and strongest man in the Seven Kingdoms. After letting you bleed enough, this group of villains will continue north, committing every evil in the world along the Gods Eye and the Red Fork."

PS: New author, new book, seeking recommendation votes and monthly votes.

(End of chapter)