Someone like the Mountain, the moment he entered King's Landing, would immediately fall under the watchful gaze of the Spider.
It wasn't just him, any major noble entering King's Landing would be noted by the Spider's little birds. But someone as brutal and infamous as the Mountain drew even sharper attention.
Ever since he set foot in the city, whether it was day or night, the Mountain and his men had been constantly watched by the Spider's network.
Since it was impossible to avoid their eyes, why bother trying to hide?
Simply being near King's Landing meant stepping into the Spider's domain, where his little birds reigned supreme.
The Mountain understood the Spider's capabilities better than most. Unlike Littlefinger, who had only recently risen from a tax official in Gulltown to the Master of Coin, the Mountain had long known the Spider's influence and danger.
Still, he wasn't afraid of the Spider discovering what he was doing in King's Landing.
First of all, the king had left the capital nearly two months ago and wouldn't be back for at least three more.
Neither Littlefinger nor the Spider would dare travel west to investigate anything. Even if they suspected the truth, at best they'd only have guesses.
And to investigate those guesses in the Westerlands? Neither of them had that kind of courage.
Even if they wanted to report something, what would they say?
Report a hunch? And to whom?
The king was away, and most of the court had followed him. The one sitting on the Iron Throne now was Lord Renly Baratheon, a charming fop, fashionable, handsome, well-liked by the noble ladies... and utterly useless.
The Mountain had thought it all through.
Even if the Spider and Littlefinger pooled their intelligence, there was nothing they could do to touch him within the city, let alone once he left it.
Besides, even if they suspected him, they'd ultimately place the blame on Lord Tywin Lannister.
And if it was Lord Tywin's will, then they would never dare ride west to hunt for evidence of "coining." If Tywin found out, he might just send the Mountain to give them a warm welcome, and that would be the end of them.
A boulder rolling down a mountain couldn't be stopped. If something "accidentally" happened in the Westerlands, who could say whether it was fate or foul play?
They didn't dare investigate their own suspicions, and with no evidence, they could do nothing. They'd know the truth in their hearts, but remain powerless to act.
Neither the Spider nor Littlefinger had any idea that they had just been completely outmaneuvered by a man they utterly looked down on, a brute like the Mountain.
But the Mountain didn't fear them. He knew their secrets, knew the intricate dance of politics and ambition in this world. He could easily drop a few hints and leave them sleepless with worry, while they couldn't touch him in return.
In mystical terms, the Mountain, reborn through time travel, was like a "green seer", he knew the past, saw the present clearly, and could foresee the future.
When the king finally returned to King's Landing, he'd be too busy with the upcoming Tourney of the Hand to care about anything else.
The only potential threat was Littlefinger possibly using this incident to sway Eddard Stark into taking action, getting that "honorable fool" to invoke the law and clash with House Lannister.
But even that wouldn't happen for another six months.
By then, the realm would already be on the brink, houses baring Biter and readying for war. A minor incident like this wouldn't even register.
And until then, not even the Spider or Littlefinger would dare provoke Tywin Lannister. In fact, if they so much as stirred the waters, Tywin might strike first.
That's why, after carefully thinking it through, the Mountain felt no fear over his recent kidnapping in King's Landing.
As long as they left the city without being caught in the act, everything would be fine.
A man steeped in the power struggles of advanced civilizations for over a decade, even if he'd been a loser before, had still absorbed plenty of cunning. With a worldview forged in the belief that money could do anything, it wasn't surprising that he had come out ahead.
The Mountain and his men moved fast. Within a few days, they had crossed into the Westerlands, entering the territory of House Sarlott under Silverhill. Like a dragon returning to the sea, or a tiger to its mountain, he was back where he belonged.
By now, it had been exactly half a month since they left Clegane lands. In just two more days, they'd be home.
The Mountain relaxed, slowing his pace.
He had three horses to himself and rode them in rotation, keeping them fresh.
He waved for Master Tobho Mott to ride up and join him.
"Master Tobho, you've looked unhappy this whole journey." he said casually.
Tobho stiffened immediately. The Mountain's reputation preceded him; he had long heard tales of the man's atrocities from soldiers, soldiers, generals, and lords. A butcher in armor, a demon weighing four hundred pounds.
Tobho stammered, trying to lie. "Ser Gregor, I am not unhappy."
"Oh? No need to lie. I can tell." The Mountain stared at him with cold eyes.
Tobho was a stout man himself, tall, strong from years of smithing, with powerful arms and a fierce presence. But next to the Mountain, he felt like a child, all confidence gone.
"S-Ser, I'll do my best to forge your weapon. Once it's done, I hope you'll let me return home." Tobho managed, still stammering, though less than before.
"Fine."
Tobho could hardly believe it. According to the rumors, the Mountain's word wasn't worth a single copper.
"My lord... truly?"
"Do you want me to swear an oath?"
The Mountain's offhand remark made Tobho go silent. His heart thundered, mouth dry, limbs weak. That question alone sounded like a warning.
If the Mountain got angry, he might rip him apart on the spot.
The man had allegedly killed his own father, sister, and two wives. What did one foreign smith mean to him? His life was as cheap as a stray dog's.
The Mountain glanced at him and said seriously, "Alright then, I swear, in the honor of House Clegane and in the name of the Seven. If Master Tobho Mott forges the weapon I want, I will let him return home."
Tobho stole a glance. The Mountain's expression was solemn, he didn't seem to be lying.
No one, no matter how bold, would dare swear falsely in the name of the Seven.
That calmed Tobho a great deal.
The Mountain chuckled. "Master Tobho, I want you to start by forging me with a knife."
"A knife?" Tobho perked up. He was a weapon and armor enthusiast. Without that passion, he'd never have become the top smith in the Street of Steel or earned the title of 'Master.'
"Yes, a face-skinning knife." the Mountain said with a smile.
Tobho froze. It was the first time he had ever heard of such a thing.
⚔────────
Visit my Patreon for more: patreon.com/vynthor
Extra Content Already Available:
The Mountain of Ice and Fire (GOT) – 56 advanced chapters!
Naruto: I Am Nara Shikamaru – 30 advanced chapters!
One Piece: Summoner of the 3D Zone – 38 advanced chapters!
That's a total of 124 chapters ahead of public updates!
With your support, I release 10 chapters per fanfics every week, keeping the stories alive and growing.
Thank you so much for being part of this journey!