"Arya Stark!!!"
Hearing this name, everyone's heart skipped a beat without exception!
Especially Brienne. Her tall body shook violently. She didn't even have time to wonder why the Stark girl, who should be in King's Landing, was in the Riverlands, or why the Karstarks were pursuing her.
"Lady Stark is in danger!"
She instinctively let out a low roar. After swearing loyalty to Catelyn Tully, Brienne regarded rescuing the two Stark daughters as her most important honor and duty.
Kicking the horse's belly hard, without waiting for Corleone's order, her tall warhorse neighed and shot out like an arrow towards the direction of the roar!
"Damn it! Follow her!"
Seeing this, Corleone had no time to blame Brienne for her impulsiveness and immediately urged his mount.
Jaime, Iggo, and Walton followed without hesitation.
In any case, they were now a fragile unit and couldn't let Brienne fall into danger alone.
The group galloped away and soon rushed up a sparsely wooded hill. looking down from above, the scene below was fully visible.
About twenty Northern soldiers had formed a relatively tight encirclement, trapping a knight riding a tall black warhorse in the center.
The knight was extraordinarily burly, wearing mud-stained armor, helmetless, revealing that hideous face with half of it severely burned and disfigured!
It was the "Hound," Sandor Clegane!
And at this moment, he was tightly holding a child with short hair dressed as a boy in his arms.
Corleone, having read the original work, immediately understood—it really was Arya Stark!
But... according to the timeline, shouldn't the two of them be on their way to Riverrun or the Twins? Why appear near the God's Eye?
Corleone frowned tightly. Was it the butterfly effect caused by his appearance, or something else?
Couldn't figure it out.
"Lady Stark!"
Just as Corleone was pondering, Brienne exclaimed again, gripping the reins to charge down again.
Overflowing with a sense of justice and responsibility, she simply couldn't watch helplessly as her mission target was surrounded by over twenty Northern soldiers right before her eyes.
"Calm down! Brienne!"
Fortunately, this time Corleone was quick-eyed and quick-handed. He grabbed her reins tightly, shouting sternly, "Look down there!"
"With just the few of us, charging down now won't save anyone but will get us killed too!"
"But that's Lady Stark!"
Brienne's blue eyes widened, gritting her teeth unwillingly. "I promised Lady Catelyn Tully to bring her two daughters back safely..."
"I know!"
Hearing this, Corleone gave her a serious look. "Not saying we won't save her, but we need a plan, understand?"
"Don't forget, my one hundred Gold Dragons are still on that bastard!"
At this time, Jaime beside them also calmly persuaded, "She's right, Brienne."
"Although I don't know why Lady Stark is mixed up with the Hound, there are over twenty bloodthirsty Northern soldiers down there. We have no chance of winning."
"Trust Corleone. He always has a way."
The persuasion of the two calmed Brienne down slightly. Her chest heaved violently as she looked at the heavily surrounded Arya below, then at the serious faces of Corleone and Jaime.
Taking a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the boiling protective desire in her heart, she finally slowly released the reins.
Along the way, every judgment and decision of Corleone had proven correct. She was long accustomed to following his command.
And just now, even a proud, irritable person like Jaime chose to endure extreme insults.
She had no reason to drag everyone into danger because of her impulsiveness.
That wouldn't be chivalrous either.
Seeing her calm down, Corleone breathed a sigh of relief temporarily.
Turning his head, he gazed intently at the battle situation below, his mind constantly thinking.
One had to admit, Sandor Clegane's martial prowess was truly astonishing.
Holding his sword in one hand, he dashed left and right in the encirclement, moving swiftly. Every swing of his sword was heavy and powerful, hacking down three or five Northern soldiers in succession. His ferocity actually intimidated the enemy for a short time.
However, two fists can't beat four hands, not to mention holding a burden in his arms.
Just as the Hound hacked down another person, a war hammer smashed solidly into his back!
"Eat my hammer, mad dog!"
With Harrag Stole's voice, the Hound fell to the ground, tumbling off the horse with Arya in his arms.
A mouthful of blood sprayed directly from his mouth, dyeing Arya's shoulder red.
"Hound!"
Arya exclaimed, struggling to crawl out of his arms.
Because the Hound held Arya tightly during the fall, using his body as a cushion, the little girl wasn't hurt.
Seeing him bleeding from mouth and nose, lying on the ground panting heavily, clearly having lost combat effectiveness, the fierce little wolf cub immediately drew the slender blade hidden at her waist, assuming a special stance.
That was taught to her by the First Sword of Braavos.
But ultimately, Arya was just a child. Facing over twenty tiger-like Northern soldiers, she was useless.
Sure enough, as soon as she stood up, Harrag Stole charged up on horseback and knocked her to the ground with a punch, unable to get up again.
"Hahaha!"
Stole laughed triumphantly. "See that! Earl Rickard, I caught the Stark wolf cub!"
"The King in the North, Robb Stark, killed you. I will tie his sister before him and make him admit his mistake personally in front of all Northern vassals!"
"I will make him kneel and repent to the Karstark sunburst banner!"
But just as Stole was incredibly smug, a Northern soldier ran up to him in a panic, his tone anxious: "Captain! Bad news!"
"Hogg... Hogg took a sword to the thigh. The wound is deep, bleeding non-stop!"
"What?!"
The wild laughter on Stole's face froze instantly.
Because Hogg was his childhood friend, his most trusted right-hand man. The friendship between the two far exceeded ordinary superiors and subordinates.
"Damn it... Go find someone!"
He immediately roared in rage: "Maester, doctor, septon, monk—I don't care what he is! As long as he can save Hogg, find him for me!"
"Hogg cannot die! He absolutely cannot die!"
On the hill not far away, Corleone heard the conversation between Stole and the soldier clearly.
A gleam flashed in his eyes, and a bold plan formed instantly.
"It seems... I have to return to my old trade."
Turning his head, he grinned at Jaime, then signaled him to put the cloak back on.
Taking a deep breath, he deliberately shouted in an anxious and dissatisfied tone: "Don't move, Young Master Derek!"
"Trust me! No one in the Riverlands can cure your illness except me!"
"Because I... am the best doctor in the entire Riverlands!"