No, it wasn't an army. Far from it. It was a small, dirty boy. Although Tyrion knew well enough that appearances could be deceiving, so he didn't entirely trust his eyes.
He approached the grimy figure, keeping his hand within reach of his dagger at all times. Cautious men lived to fight another day while fools were quickly forgotten.
"Good day? That's questionable," he replied. "Tell me, boy, what place is this? And by what name are you known?" He watched the youth carefully, his mind racing as he tried to place the features. Unlikely they'd ever met, but perhaps by looking for a trace of something familiar, he might be place to place what part of the country he'd ended up in, no matter how he'd ended up there.