More than twenty riders bearing the House Tully crest were on their way to Willow Wood City.
Hooves pounded on the dry dirt road, raising a cloud of dust.
Robin Roger Legge, captain of Riverrun's guard, spurred his horse to catch up with Brynden Tully, the Blackfish, riding abreast with him, his hand gripping the reins tightly: "This is a shameful sneak attack, Ser Brynden!"
"A victory without honor! It's as treacherous and cunning as those pirates!"
Brynden Tully's grey eyes swept over the distant rolling hills, not criticizing the issue. "The purpose of war is victory, isn't it?"
"An army formed in a day, sailing downstream, and a city falling in three days—that sounds like a bard's legend, not a real war."
"This is a miracle, or perhaps there's a conspiracy we haven't considered."
"The only thing we know is that your cousin indeed suffered an epic defeat, my friend."
Robin Roger Legge fell silent, and the Blackfish also stopped speaking. No one had imagined this would happen, or rather, they didn't want it to happen.
The expression on his elder brother Hoster's aged face, a mix of anger and unease, reappeared before him when he was forced to dispatch this troop.
That young man won too thoroughly, somewhat disrupting the development of the situation.
Everything that happened deviated from its proper course, even affecting the front-line situation. The five hundred soldiers provided by the Legge Family at the front were requesting to leave and return to counter Arthur.
A dark line appeared on the road ahead.
The dark line slowly wriggled; only when they got closer did they see it was an endless stream of refugees.
They pushed wheelbarrows, herded skinny cattle and sheep, and their carts were piled high with old household items and sacks of grain.
Old men leaned on canes, children tugged at their elders' clothes, and everyone's face was covered in a layer of grey, lifeless numbness.
The knights in the troop tightened their reins, warily watching the crowd.
Brynden Tully raised his hand, signaling the troop to stop. He dismounted and walked straight to an old farmer pushing a cart.
The old farmer saw the leaping trout emblem on him, and a hint of fear flashed in his cloudy eyes. He knew this was the Riverrun emblem, and nervously stopped, bowing his body: "Sir... Sir."
Brynden Tully scanned the frightened, startled crowd and asked, "Where are you from? Where are you going?"
The old farmer bowed his head deeply, answering with a trembling voice, "From... from Lord Roger Legge's land, fleeing, just going wherever we can, my lord."
Robin Roger Legge also dismounted and quickly followed. He heard the old farmer's reply, and his face turned grim. Although they were cousins, he was a Roger Legge, and would always be part of the family. He angrily spoke to the Blackfish: "Look at these poor people!"
"This is all Arthur's doing! Look at what he's done!"
Brynden Tully was silent for a moment, then continued to ask, "What's the situation now?"
The old farmer raised his hand, pointing south, then north: "Lord Arthur said that those willing to go to his land will be given public land, and no taxes will be collected this year."
"For those unwilling to go, he provides dry rations and water and sends soldiers to escort us out of the Legge Family's territory."
"You still call him 'Lord'?!" Robin Roger Legge's voice was like a taut string, suppressing rage. "He started this war! He caused all of this!"
"You've lost your homes! Lost your land! Had to flee! All because of him!"
The old farmer's shoulders slumped. He was silent for a long time, his lips trembling.
The surrounding refugees also fell silent, everyone quietly watching, the air seemingly solidified.
The old farmer finally spoke, his emotions complex, his voice hoarse as if swallowing sand: "Yes..."
"He brought the war, made us lose our homes, and forced us to leave to survive."
He looked up, glanced at Robin, then at Brynden Tully, remaining silent for a long time.
"But thanks to his soldiers, we were able to get out alive with these few things."
"His soldiers?" Robin almost laughed. "A bunch of bandits!"
The ravens that came to Riverrun told them that Arthur's army burned houses, farmlands, and destroyed everything intact.
The old farmer shook his head, his voice trembling, pointing to his cart: "My lord, they did start a war, but they are not bandits."
"We didn't want to go to his land, but his soldiers gave us bread and water and escorted us all the way, without taking our property."
He pointed to the bulging sack of wheat on his cart.
"Unlike... unlike the routed soldiers under Lord Roger Legge and other noble armies, they only robbed us and killed our relatives."
An old woman holding a child also began to wail.
"It was Arthur's war that made us homeless..."
"But it was also his soldiers who arrived, caught the bandits who killed my family, and hanged them in front of me."
"His soldiers said that was his rule, that he would protect every Riverlands person."
"And we didn't want to go to his land, but he didn't harm us. Instead, he gave us dry rations and water and sent his soldiers to escort us to avoid being plundered by bandits."
Robin's face turned somewhat pale. He knew the conduct of noble armies. He wanted to retort but couldn't find any words; they hadn't received these reports.
The old farmer sighed, unsure how to react to all that had happened, and said to Brynden Tully: "My lord, you're going to Willow Wood City, aren't you?"
"You'll see for yourselves."
"Lord Roger Legge's land is now full of bandits, deserters, and even other noble armies. There is death and slaughter everywhere. It's already a true hell."
"Only Arthur's army is helping us, rescuing us, catching those murderers, thieves, and bandits, and executing them all."
"For us commoners, ironically, only by encountering this group of people who started the war can we survive..."
"If, if, we encounter other armies..."
The old farmer choked up at this point, and the refugee crowd also choked up.
Brynden Tully said nothing. He looked deeply at the old farmer and the group of refugees, then at Robin, before turning and remounting his horse: "Let's go."
The troop started again, bypassing the silent tide of refugees, and continued eastward. The smell of charring grew stronger, and the air was filled with the scent of death and destruction.
When they officially entered the Legge Family's territory, there was no one to be seen, no signs of life, and everyone fell silent.
Everywhere was a desolate, scorched earth. What were once villages were now only black outlines, and crumbling walls wailed in the wind.
All the fields were burned bare, the fertile black soil turned into cracked, grey hard lumps.
Several wild dogs were tearing at a charred corpse. Seeing the cavalrymen, they warily raised their heads, growling low in their throats, blood and flesh still hanging from their mouths.
In the sky, a dozen vultures circled excitedly, waiting for the wild dogs to leave so they could swoop down and feast.
Robin's voice trembled as he pointed his riding crop at a ruin: "Look!"
"Look at all of this!"
His eyes were bloodshot, as if about to drip blood.
"Look at what he's done! That bastard! That bandit!"
He spurred his warhorse, charging to a burnt-down wall.
"He plundered everything! Burned everything! Is this his benevolence? Is this his limited war?"
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