Ten gold dragons, an absolute fortune for the miners.
Gregor knew that most common folk in this world never even had the opportunity to use gold dragons in their lifetime. The builders who constructed houses had no place to live, and the miners who mined gold had no gold to spend. This was true even in this agricultural civilization.
Ten gold dragons were equivalent to three hundred silver stags or two thousand one hundred copper stars, and they were given directly to the people under his command. Even Maester Harry couldn't believe it was real!
But it was real.
Ever since Gregor returned to Clegane's Keep, he had become quite different from the man he was before. But exactly how he had changed, Harry couldn't put into words.
Harry, as Tywin's eyes and ears on Gregor, had always been able to understand his lord. But now, he found himself increasingly bewildered. A noble being so generous to common folk, this was something only the Stark family of the North would ever do. Even the incredibly wealthy Lannister family would never treat commoners this way. Tywin Lannister would only punish or whip disobedient subjects, and rebellious nobles would hear the "The Rain of Castamere" song echoing through their halls.
Harry recalled Gregor's promise several days ago to compensate each of his people with one gold dragon per year. At the time, Harry and others like Raff thought it was a terrible joke. A lord could joke with his subjects all he wanted, especially one like the Mountain.
Watching the eleven new miners ride away from Clegane's Keep on horseback, fully armored and armed, with their salt bags in tow, Harry almost felt like he was dreaming. As a commoner, he had never seen a lord so extravagant and generous. Gregor was a newly minted noble who had just extorted a great noble, and yet, he was distributing so much wealth to his people. Harry couldn't understand, and frankly, he didn't think he ever would.
This was something no noble had ever done before.
However, the Mountain could do whatever he pleased, simply because he was in the mood, no reasons needed. Harry, though an adviser of sorts, didn't dare offer any advice to the Mountain.
Gregor could reward his people with ten gold dragons, and he could just as easily kick Harry to death if he displeased him.
This was the Mountain!
The Mountain had always been synonymous with terror and brutality. Harry envied Sweet-tongue Raff and others who always stayed close to the Mountain. How did they survive? And, not only survive, how did they thrive? Their loyalty to Gregor was absolute, and Harry couldn't understand why anyone would offer such loyalty to a man who was so feared, so ruthless.
Harry was a wise young man, but with little life experience. The more he thought about it, the more confused he became. It seemed to him like Gregor had the ability to sway people's hearts, something he hadn't noticed before. It was like the Stockholm Syndrome, where captives begin to sympathize with their captors.
"Scribe!" Gregor commanded. "Bring me forty gold dragons."
So, the Scribe counted out forty gold dragons.
"Give ten to Thomasson."
The Scribe handed ten gold dragons to Thomasson.
Thomasson took the gold dragons, his hands shaking.
"Thomasson, you have the day off today. Take these coins home. They are compensation for your ten years of losses from planting poppies in the fields."
"Yes, milord."
Thomasson's gratitude was profound and different from anyone else's. Julie stood by his side.
Harry watched as Thomasson almost knelt before Gregor. The old soldier was so grateful to the Mountain that he couldn't find the words. His eyes stared at Gregor as though he were gazing at a holy idol. His face twitched, as if he had a spasm.
Harry realized that, should Gregor ask Thomasson to do anything in the future, the old man would do it without hesitation.
A thought crossed Harry's mind: Gregor's ability to make people loyal, this was unsettling. He'd never realized the full extent of it before. He needed to secretly write to Lord Tywin about this.
In the Seven Kingdoms, Maesters were the sole masters of the lord's ravens. Gregor, who came from humble beginnings, didn't have his own ravens. The ravens in Clegane's Keep were brought by Harry from Casterly Rock, belonging to Lord Tywin, to help facilitate communication between Gregor and Tywin.
"Bring Julie back too... Is there anyone else at home?"
Gregor, as a lord, knew very little about his eleven subjects. He'd never cared about the lives or deaths of his people before.
"There's my mother, but my sisters all married off early, they were afraid you would rape them. Both of my brothers died in the mines." Julie chirped cheerfully.
Gregor stared at the girl, Julie, and found it odd how she spoke of her dead brothers as if they were just two dead cats or dogs, without a hint of sadness.
Why didn't she show any emotion or sorrow?
Was Julie's indifference just part of her nature, or was there something wrong with her humanity?
Gregor didn't want to dwell on it. He knew that probing into such things wouldn't give him answers.
Though he felt a little unnatural about Julie's callousness, he couldn't deny that he found something appealing about her straightforward and unfeeling nature.
Clearly, the girl had no emotional attachment to her brothers. They were a family, but there was no warmth between them. At least Gregor saw none of that warmth in Julie.
"Julie, take the salt. I'll allow you to bring an extra bag of salt." Gregor said. "Go check on your mother. Starting tomorrow, I'll have lead poured into your training swords. Your arms are too thin, and your strength is lacking."
"Yes, milord!"
Julie skipped forward, arms wide, as if about to hug Gregor.
But Gregor glared at her, as if ready to crush her skull on the spot. Harry's heart skipped a beat.
However, Julie was as quick as a monkey. She climbed up Gregor's arm like a tree, and in front of the stunned onlookers, with the air thick with tension, she wrapped her arms around Gregor's neck and planted a kiss on his cheek.
"Thud!"
Thomasson fell to his knees in terror, opening his mouth as if to beg for Gregor's forgiveness, but no words came out. Fear had seized his throat.
Julie jumped off Gregor's arm and, with a playful wink and giggle, flashed her cheeky smile. Everyone, including Gregor himself, was dumbfounded.
Harry trembled, closing his eyes. He was sure that Gregor would crush this little girl's skull the next second.
The Mountain was a devil, not a good man.
"No more of that. This is the last time." Gregor said in a stern tone.
"Got it! Father!" The little girl drawled, clearly not taking Gregor's warning seriously.
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