Chapter 53 Chapter 52 Arya

The wedding tent was left behind, and the carriage rolled over wet clay and ragged grass, out of light and into darkness again.Ahead rose the castle gatehouse, and she could see torches moving on the ramparts, flames dancing in the wind.Damp mail and helm reflected the dim light.There are more torches on the arched blackstone bridge that connects the Twin Cities, and a procession is moving from the west bank to the east bank. "The castle is not closed." Arya said suddenly.The officer said no entry or exit, obviously he was mistaken.While she was watching intently, the iron gates were raised, and the drawbridge was lowered to rest on the swollen Qucheng River.She had been afraid that Lord Frey's guards would deny them entry, but she bit her lip at the sight, too eager to smile.

The Hound pulled the reins so suddenly that she nearly fell from the carriage. "Damn it! The Seven Hells!" Arya heard him curse as the left wheel sank into the ooze and the wagon began to tip. "Get down," Clegane yelled at her, shoving her shoulders with the heels of his hands and pushing her off the carriage.She landed lightly, using the method Syrio had taught her, and jumped up with her face covered in mud. "What are you doing?" she called.The Hound jumped down too, and tore off the cushions of the wagon, reaching for the sword belt hidden underneath. Only then did she hear cavalry pouring out from the city gate, like a torrent of steel and flames, the rumbling horseshoes stepping on the drawbridge were almost covered by the sound of drums inside the city.Both men and horses wore plate armor, and one out of every ten carried torches, while the rest carried axes with sharp points and heavy blades that could split bones and tear armor.

Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled.It wasn't very loud for the noise of the camp, the music, and the menacing growl of the rushing river, but she heard it, perhaps not with her ears.The howl was as sharp as a dagger, full of anger and sorrow, piercing through her body, making her tremble.More and more horsemen poured out of the castle, four in a row, without end, knights, squires and freeriders, carrying torches and longaxes.Then there was a noise from behind. Arya looked around and saw only two of the original three wedding tents, and the middle one fell down.For a moment, she didn't know what was going on, until she saw flames from the collapsed tent, and the other two began to topple, and heavy tarpaulins fell on the heads of the crowd.A burst of rockets streaked across the night sky, pulling out streaks of light, and the second tent caught fire, followed by the third.The screams were so horrific that she could even hear the words clearly through the music.The black shadow moved towards the flames, and the steel armor flickered orange.

A fight, Arya understood, a fight.And these cavalry... She has no time to look at the wedding banquet.Although the river overflowed its banks and swirled darkly at the end of the drawbridge, as high as a horse's belly, the cavalry, spurred on by the music, forced their way across, splashing.The music of the two castles is only now harmonized.I know the song, Arya realized suddenly.Tom Sevenstrings had sung to the bandits when they lodged in the brewhouse with the monks that rainy night.What virtue and ability do you have? Your lord proudly declares that you must make me bow my head and bow my head?

Some of the Freys saw wagons as the Freys trudged through the mud and weeds.She saw three cavalrymen leave the group and come over the stagnant water.The colors are different, the power is not inferior, each shows its magical powers, and it is divided into high and low. Clegane slashed the ropes that held the Stranger to him with a blow of his sword, and jumped onto the horse's back.The steed is well-trained, and immediately pricked up its ears and turned to the rushing enemy.The red lion fights the yellow lion, the minions are sharp and merciless.Don't forget, Ruzi, don't forget, Ruzi, if you make a fatal move.Arya had prayed for the Hound's death a hundred times, but now... she had a rock in her hand, sticky with mud, and couldn't remember when she picked it up.Who should I throw at?

The metal clang of Clegane's first longaxe startled her.He fought against the first person, and the second person took the opportunity to go around behind him, aimed at the vest and chopped it down.The Stranger circled alertly, so the Hound was barely swept, and the baggy peasant jersey was torn wide, exposing the mail underneath.He's one against three, and Arya clings to the stone, sure to be killed.She thought of Mycah, and of the butcher's son who had briefly been her friend. A third cavalryman came toward her.Arya quickly hid behind the carriage.Fear hurts more than a sword.Drums, horns, flutes, horses neighing, and the sharp sound of metal and iron, but everything seemed so far away, and only the cavalry approaching rapidly and the long ax in his hand remained in the world.Over his armor he wore a coat with the Twin Towers embroidered on it, identifying him as a Frey.She doesn't understand.Her uncle was marrying the daughter of the Freys, who were supposed to be friends with her brother. "No!" Arya screamed as he rounded the carriage, but it paid no heed.

The knight charged, and Arya threw rocks like cranberries at Gendry.She had hit Gendry right in the eye, but this time she missed, and the stone bounced off his temple, stalling him a little, that's all.She backed away, tiptoeing quickly across the mud, letting the carriage get in the way again.The knight trotted after him, darkness behind the eyes of his helmet—the stone didn't even make a mark on it.They went around once, twice, three times.The knight cursed loudly, "You can't keep running—" The ax hit him hard on the back of the head, piercing the helmet and skull, and knocking the knight from the saddle.It turned out that the Hound riding the Stranger saved her.How did you get the ax? She almost blurted out, and then she saw a Frey soldier pinned under his dying mount, surrounded by a foot of water; another lay on his back, sprawled, motionless .He didn't wear a throat guard, and a foot-long broken sword protruded from his chin.

"Bring me my helm," Clegane yelled at her. The helmet was tucked under a bag of dried apples, at the rear of the wagon, behind pickled pig's feet.Arya emptied the bag and tossed the helmet to him.He caught it with one hand and put it on his head, so the original man became a steel hunting dog, roaring towards the flames. "My brother..." "Dead!" he yelled back at her. "You thought they'd kill his men and keep him alive?" He turned his head back to the camp. "Look, look, damn it." The camp turned into a battlefield.No, butchery.The flames rising from the wedding banquet tent reached into the air, and some military tents and fifty or sixty silk tents were also burning, with swords and swords everywhere.But today, during the rainy season, the rain weeps in the hall, but there is no one inside.She saw two knights on horseback chop down a fleeing man, and a wooden barrel fell from the sky, hitting a burning tent, bursting, and the flames doubled in height.Catapults, she understood, were throwing oil and pitch and other things from the castle.But today, every rainy season, the rain weeps in the hall, but there is no soul inside.

"Come with me," Sandor Clegane held out a hand. "We need to get out of here, quick!" The Stranger shook his head impatiently, snorting from his nostrils.At the end of the song, there is only a lonely drumbeat, which is slow and monotonous, echoing on the river, like the heartbeat of a giant beast.The dark sky shed tears, the long river echoed, some cursed, some died.Arya's teeth were filled with mud and her face was wet.Rain, just rain.That's all. "Here we are," she called, in a high-pitched, frightened voice, the voice of a little girl. "Robb is in town, and my mother, and the gates are wide open." No Freys rode out again.I've had a hard time getting here. "We have to find my mother."

"Stupid little she-wolf." The firelight shone on the beak of the dog's helmet, making the steel teeth glisten. "Go in and never come out again, and maybe Foyle will let you kiss your mother's dead body." "Maybe we can save her..." "Maybe you can, but I haven't lived enough yet." He rode toward her, forcing her to lean against the carriage. "Go or stay, little wolf girl, live or die, you—" Arya turned and fled, rushing for the gate.The iron gate is falling slowly, slowly.I have to run faster.Mud and pools slowed things down.I have to run as fast as a direwolf.The drawbridge began to rise, and water poured down from it like a waterfall, and heavy chunks of mud fell.Hurry up.She heard the splashing of water, and looked back to see the Stranger chasing after him, splashing water with every step; she also saw the longaxe, wet, covered with blood and brains.She had never run so fast in all her life, head down, feet churning the water, running, running, just like Mycah had been.

His ax hit her right in the back of the head.