That man was too close.
Close enough that Walton could almost smell the warhorse's breath spraying on his face.
Walton could swear by the Old Gods, the New Gods, and even all the gods, that this fucking horse was absolutely his!
This horse had been with him for over a decade!
Old Horse... Old Horse!
"You damn thief, you stole my horse!"
He pointed at Jaime and cursed.
Jaime straightened his back and retorted, "Speak responsibly, soldier. I am a Lannister; even my piss is gold."
"This horse was clearly a gift from Lord Bolton."
"Your horse is gone, what does that have to do with me?"
Hearing this, Walton grew even angrier. He wiped the mud off his face and was about to continue cursing: "You..."
Just then, a stream of hot liquid shot out from between the horse's hind legs.
Fortunately, Walton reacted quickly enough, hastily pushing off the ground with both legs to retreat, avoiding getting pissed in the face.
That hot stream carrying a strong stench of ammonia shot onto the muddy ground where he had just sat, barely missing the tip of Walton's nose.
Close call...
Walton scrambled away, standing up in a wretched state, his face instantly turning furious.
"You..."
Just as he was about to curse again, Corleone and the other two happened to arrive, so he was forced to hold his words back.
Brienne and Iggo were both extremely experienced warriors. Without needing Corleone to speak, they quickly formed a semicircular formation, appearing very coordinated.
However, Walton had slightly more men on his side, and soon the two groups formed a standoff.
Corleone didn't immediately start arguing with the other side. His gaze first fell on Rorge, who was tied up like a wild boar.
He had to admit, this guy's physique was good. He was unconscious when they arrived at Harrenhal yesterday, but now he could already squirm on the ground.
Look! He's even glaring at us.
Seeing that apart from the wounds on his body still oozing slightly, Rorge was in no mortal danger, Corleone turned to Walton.
Speaking softly, the aura generated by [Majesty Lv2] instantly spread: "Lord Walton."
Just a form of address made the enraged Walton's heart palpitate suddenly.
As if some invisible force compelled him, he involuntarily shifted his attention from Jaime to look straight into Corleone's eyes.
"This man."
Corleone gestured towards Rorge with his eyes. "Is a prisoner I acquired after annihilating the Brave Companions."
His voice was very low, yet every word reached the ears of every Northern soldier without fail.
That aura made it seem as if the moment Corleone appeared, the eyes of the whole world focused on him. His calm attitude even gave Walton a sense of constraint similar to facing Earl Roose Bolton alone.
But being a battle-hardened veteran after all, Walton hurriedly swallowed and forced his voice to remain tough: "Lord Bolton ordered the elimination of all remnants of the Brave Companions!"
"This bastard was scurrying around the castle like a rat and I caught him red-handed. I am merely executing the Earl's orders, my lord!"
He emphasized Roose Bolton's "orders," trying to gain the moral high ground.
However, Corleone just sneered: "Your words make no sense, my lord."
"He is my prisoner, so naturally, he falls under my jurisdiction now. In other words, this guy is my property, and Earl Bolton's orders do not apply to him."
"Your property?"
Walton scoffed: "Cut the crap, Corleone!"
"This damn bastard dared to fight me for the top courtesan Wells at the 'Red Hole' half a month ago. Even if your Seven Gods descend today, I'm going to kill him!"
"Go, take him away!"
Following Walton's order, the Northern soldiers around him made a move to swarm forward.
"Stand down!"
Corleone shouted, his eyes turning completely cold. The aura of [Majesty Lv2] fully unleashed, almost tangible.
Brienne and Iggo also stepped forward immediately. Their formidable presence intimidated the soldiers for a moment.
However, Harrenhal was after all where Bolton's army was stationed. Making too much noise here could easily attract others' attention, and it would be hard to clean up the mess then.
Taking advantage of Walton's hesitation, Corleone stared at him sharply. After thinking for a moment, he suddenly changed the subject.
"Very well, Lord Walton. Since you insist on having this man, let's make a deal."
He paused, and under the other's somewhat stunned gaze, extended his index finger: "One thousand Gold Dragons."
"Following the long-standing customs of Westeros, if you want to redeem him, please pay a ransom of one thousand Gold Dragons."
"After that, this person is yours. Whatever you do with him has nothing to do with me."
"H-How much???"
Hearing this number, Walton almost jumped.
The anger on his face faded instantly, replaced by a sense of disbelief and absurdity.
"This guy is fucking worth one thousand Gold Dragons?"
"Are you crazy?"
"Even the bounty for the Kingslayer is only one thousand Gold Dragons!"
He pointed at Jaime, as if accusing Corleone of how ridiculous his asking price was.
Facing Walton's loss of composure, Corleone's expression didn't change at all.
He just tilted his head slightly and patiently explained to Walton.
"You can't calculate it like that, my lord."
"Ser Jaime is a 'one-time' ransom because he is a Kingsguard and cannot marry or have children. But Rorge..."
Saying this, Corleone kicked the human-shaped thing at his feet. "He is different."
"He will work for me, create value, and then, he will marry, have children. His children will continue to work for me, have more children... sons and grandsons, endlessly."
"Calculating it this way, one thousand Gold Dragons to buy out the value of him and his entire future family, isn't that a conscience price?"
"This price already includes a big discount I gave you out of respect for Lord Bolton."
Corleone shrugged, wearing an expression of "you're getting a huge bargain."
Walton was dumbfounded, mouth agape, unable to speak for a long time.
What the hell kind of calculation is this?
It sounds like... it makes a bit of sense, but thinking carefully, this is clearly playing him for a fool!
The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. Walton's chest heaved violently, feeling a blockage there, suffocating him until his face turned red.
Isn't this bullying an honest man!
But just as Walton was constantly thinking, trying to refute Corleone's shameless rhetoric.
Jaime on horseback spoke up at the right moment: "I suggest you seriously consider Lord Corleone's proposal, Captain Walton."
"There are only two paths before you now: either pay up obediently, or release him right now."
Saying this, he leaned down, a trace of threat flashing in his emerald eyes, staring straight at Walton: "Otherwise, when I return to King's Landing, I might inadvertently mention to my father..."
"That it was Vargo Hoat who ordered my hand cut off, but the one who did the deed... was you!"
As soon as these words came out, Walton instantly felt a chill rising from his spine.
Damn Kingslayer!
If Lord Tywin Lannister really believed the other's nonsense, with the Old Lion's ruthless methods, even Earl Bolton probably couldn't protect him!
"Slander!"
"He's slandering me!"
He jumped in anxiety, pointing at Jaime in absolute horror, his voice so shrill it seemed to write the word "miserable" in the air.
His previous toughness and anger were completely replaced by immense fear.
This accusation... was simply too vicious!
Lannister!
You are simply inhuman!
However, watching his violent reaction, Jaime became even more smug. Straightening his back with a cold smile, looking down from above at the near-collapsed Walton, he spoke softly: "Who do you think..."
"My father will believe, you or me?"
"Northerner."