Hey guys, sorry for the wait.
This chapter will probably be the shortest one I'll have in this story. Shoutout to all those who have faved, followed, and reviewed so far. Thanks for the support.
It was times like these that Brynden wished that his father were here. As he stood in the solar with Robb, Lord Rickard, the Greatjon, and the other lords bannermen. That was the one thing he and his siblings could all agree on; they all wished Father was here. He did not feel right being here, but Robb had insisted that he join him, as he would be his heir if something happened to their lord father. Brynden hoped that Robb was wrong and they would rescue Father from King's Landing.
"The Kingslayer smashed the Tully host at the Golden Tooth. It won't be long before they march onto Riverrun." The Greatjon announced. He was a large man, heavily muscled, and carried a greatsword that was bigger than Ice. The Lord of the Last Hearth was now one of Robb's staunchest champions after what had happened the night before.
Lord Umber had threatened to take his forces home if he was placed behind the Hornwoods or the Cerwyns in the order of the march, Robb told him he was welcome to do so. "And when we are done with the Lannisters," he promised, scratching Grey Wind behind the ear, "we will march back north, root you out of your keep, and hang you for an oathbreaker." Cursing, the Greatjon flung a flagon of ale into the fire and bellowed that Robb was so green he must piss grass. When Hallis Mollen moved to restrain him, he knocked him to the floor, kicked over a table, and unsheathed his greatsword. All along the benches, his sons and brothers and sworn swords leapt to their feet, grabbing for their steel.
Yet Robb only said a quiet word, and in a snarl and the blink of an eye Lord Umber was on his back, his sword spinning on the floor three feet away and his hand dripping blood where Grey Wind had bitten off two fingers. "My lord father taught me that it was death to bare steel against your liege lord," Robb said, "but doubtless you only meant to cut my meat." Brynden had no doubt that Robb had impressed the man as he struggled to rise, sucking at the red stumps of his fingers, and then began to laugh. "Your meat," he roared, "is bloody tough."
Robb had later confessed to him when they were alone that he thought the Greatjon was going to kill him. "Did you see the way he threw down Hal, like he was no bigger than Rickon? Gods, I was so scared. And the Greatjon's not the worst of them, only the loudest. Lord Roose never says a word, he only looks at me, and all I can think of is that room they have in the Dreadfort, where the Boltons hang the skins of their enemies."
"I doubt any of those stories of the Boltons are true." Though Brynden also thought about it when he was near the Lord of the Dreadfort.
"I hope you are right." He gave a weary shake of his head. "Lord Cerwyn means to take his daughter south with us. To cook for him, he says. Theon is certain we'll find the girl in one of our bedrolls one night. I doubt you would mind, though."
"I'll bed her for you if you are worried about that," Brynden japed. It had been a while since they had a good laugh.
"It won't be long before Lord Tywin joins the Kingslayer. The river lords won't stand a chance against the full might of the Lannister army on their own." Lord Rickard said, looking at the map of the riverlands. The Lord of Karhold was a gaunt man, large, with a thick beard and hair loose past his shoulders.
Brynden wondered if the numbers they had would be enough to take on the Lannisters. They had twelve thousand men at the moment, but Brynden knew that more would join them as they marched to Moat Cailin. He never thought that he would visit his future seat with an army at his back. Their mother would not be pleased when she found out that they were leading an army to war.
"We'll know more about the Lannister movements when we reach Moat Cailin." Robett Glover said.
"Lord Tywin would be a fool to attack Moat Cailin," Galbart Glover pointed out. "When Lord Tywin marches, he'll be staying close to the Trident, taking the castles of the river lords one by one, until Riverrun stands alone."
They also had very limited options, Brynden noticed as he looked at the map. He was eager to make the Lannisters pay for their treachery, but how did Robb plan to take on the Kingslayer and Lord Tywin? They were seasoned battle commanders while Brynden and Robb were only fifteen, and never fought a battle in their lives. He was worried for their Father and one mistake could end up costing his life. It also didn't help that the Lannisters had more numbers than they did.
"It won't do us any good making plans here," Lord Cerwyn said. "We should march onto Moat Cailin and find out more about what is happening in the riverlands."
All the other northern lords agreed and Robb dismissed them, leaving him and Brynden alone in the solar with Grey Wind and Shadow. Brynden could tell that his brother was busy coming up with a plan to deal with the Kingslayer and Lord Tywin. Time was not on their side and they needed to act before the riverlands fell completely to the Lannisters. They had many leagues to go and while they marched to Moat Cailin, they would be leaving the river lords to fend for themselves against the Lannisters. War was not as simple as he thought it would be.
"You're worried," Robb said, cutting through the silence that had fallen into the room.
"How can I not be? We're going to war against the Kingslayer and Lord Tywin Lannister." Brynden hated the feeling of being afraid, but he was well aware of how ruthless the Lord of Casterly Rock could be to his enemies. He remembered what happened to the Reynes and Tarbecks when they had defied the Lannisters of Casterly Rock.
"You can always stay here at Winterfell and leave the fighting to me." Robb smiled.
"Like that will ever happen. I won't stay here like a craven while you go off to war." He remembered Bran's pleas for them to stay as well as Maester Luwin counseling them to stay. They would here none of it. Even if he was afraid of facing the Lannisters in battle, he wanted to fight his first battle with Robb by his side. Together they would hold the Neck and help the Tullys against the Lannisters. He would prove that he was a Stark of Winterfell like his brother and Father. "Besides, you need someone to watch your back."
"And who will watch yours?" Robb asked.
"I can take care of myself. Don't forget who is the better swordsman here." Brynden replied. He was the better sword and archer but Robb was better than him with the lance.
"I don't think our enemies will care much about which one of us is the better swordsman." Robb said as he got up, calling Grey Wind to him. They will when he was shoving his sword through their bodies. "You should get some rest. It will be a long march to Moat Cailin."
"So should you," Brynden called after his brother. He wondered if Ros would be willing to join him on the march. He doubted that there would be any women down in the south that would be able to pleasure him like Ros could. Looking forward to another night with Ros, he called Shadow to follow him as he left the solar.
Later that night, Brynden was inside Ros, enjoying the sound of her gasps and moans. He needed the comfort of a woman before he marched into war.
When they had finished, Brynden took the opportunity to ask her if she wanted to come with him. "I know it will be dangerous, but I need a woman like you by my side to warm my bed when I need it."
"Admit it, you'll miss me while you're gone." Ros grinned.
"I doubt you'll make any business here when we are all gone." Brynden smirked. "Most of the men will be with us in the south."
"You have a point there." Ros sighed. "I'll think about it."
"We'll be leaving soon." Brynden warned her. He'd hate to be down in the south fighting with no women to warm his bed at night. His father and mother would not approve but Brynden didn't care.
Two days later, Brynden and Robb were out in the yard beneath the gatehouse as a red dawn broke across a windswept sky, saying their farewells to Bran. He was going to miss Bran, but he was the Stark in Winterfell while they were away.
"You are the lord in Winterfell now," Robb told their brother. He was mounted on a shaggy grey stallion like his, his shield hung from the horse's side; wood banded with iron, white and grey, and on it the snarling face of a direwolf. They both wore grey chainmails over bleached leathers, with a fur-trimmed cloak across their shoulders. "You must take my place, as I took Father's, until we come home."
"We'll be back before you know it," Brynden assured Bran. He could tell that his brother was scared but knew that he would be fine. Brynden and Robb would be doing all of the fighting while Bran would be ruling safely in Winterfell.
"I know," Bran replied miserably.
"Listen to Maester Luwin's counsel, and take care of Rickon. Tell him that we'll be back as soon as the fighting is done." Robb said.
Rickon had been wild as a winter storm when he had learned Brynden and Robb were riding off to war, weeping and angry by turns. Brynden was not at all surprised when Rickon had refused to say farewell to them.
"I told him," Bran said. "He says no one ever comes back."
"Mother will be home soon." Brynden reminded them. "She'll help you rule Winterfell when she returns and look after Rickon." She would be able to calm Rickon down, she always could.
"Not just, Mother," Robb corrected him. "We'll bring back Father and the girls as well."
"I know," Brynden sighed and smiled at Bran as Robb wheeled his courser around and trotted away. "Farewell, little brother." He spun his courser around and followed Robb with Shadow trailing beside him. "Hard to believe that we're marching off to war." Brynden said to Robb as he pulled up beside his brother's horse.
"Do you wish that Jon was here with us?" Robb asked.
"He should be here with us." Brynden replied. The last they had heard of their brother was when the Imp had come to Winterfell. He wondered if Jon knew about their father's arrest.
"Jon made his choice when he left with uncle Benjen. His place is now at the Wall while ours is at Moat Cailin." He knew his brother was right, but Brynden still missed his brother and wished that he was with them to help free their father from the Lannisters.
A roar of cheers from the foot soldiers and the townsfolk met them as they rode out of Winterfell, cheering for Brynden and his brother as they rode past them with Grey Wind and Shadow racing beside them. Hallis Mollen was ahead of them, carrying the rippling white banner of House Stark atop a high standard of grey ash. Theon Greyjoy rode behind them while the Greatjon fell on Robb's left side. Their knights formed up in a double column behind them, steel-tipped lances glinting in the sun. Despite the feelings Brynden had about their enemies, he couldn't help but smile as he rode off to war by his brother's side with Grey Wind and Shadow beside them. It was time for the wolf to face the lion.
Catelyn was relieved to see that her sons had sent eyes out, even to the east. The Lannisters would come from the south when they came, but it was good that her sons were being careful. My sons are leading a host to war, she thought, still only half believing it. She was desperately afraid for them, and for Winterfell, yet she could not deny feeling a certain pride as well. A year ago they had been boys. What were they now? She wondered.
Just beyond, through the mists, as she rode with Ser Wendel Manderly and her uncle, she glimpsed the walls and towers of Moat Cailin, the future seat of her second son. The curtain walls were still being rebuilt, but they were almost as high as Winterfell's. In place of the wooden keep that had once stood there was a stone keep. She wondered if Moat Cailin would look like the great stronghold the First Men had once held when it was finished.
Standards had been raised atop all three towers. The Karstark sunburst hung from the Drunkard's Tower, beneath the direwolf; on the Children's Tower it was the Greatjon's giant in shattered chains. But on the Gatehouse Tower, the Stark banner flew alone. That was where her sons had made their seat. Catelyn made for it, with Ser Brynden and Ser Wendel behind her, their horses stepping slowly down the log-and-plank road that had been laid across the green-and-black fields of mud.
She found her sons surrounded by their father's lords bannermen, in a drafty hall with a peat fire smoking in a black hearth. Robb was seated at a massive stone table, a pile of maps and papers in front of him, talking intently with Roose Bolton and the Greatjon, while Brynden observed. She saw that Brynden's arm had fully healed from when she had last seen him. At first they did not notice her, but their wolves did. The great black and grey beasts were lying near the fire, but when Catelyn entered they lifted their heads, and their eyes met hers. The lords fell silent one by one, and Brynden noticed her before Robb did and smiled as his brother looked up. "Mother," they greeted, their voices thick with emotion.
The direwolves got to their feet and padded across the room to where she stood. They seemed bigger than a wolf ought to be, especially Brynden's. "You two've grown a beard," she said to them, while Grey Wind and Shadow sniffed her hand.
"I don't plan to keep it," Brynden said while Robb rubbed his jaw.
"I like it." Catelyn stroked the wolves' heads, gently. Grey Wind and Shadow nipped at her fingers, playful, and trotted back to their place by the fire.
Ser Helman Tallhart was the first to follow the direwolves across the room to pay his respects, kneeling before her and pressing his brow to her hand. The Glovers followed, Galbart and Robett, and Greatjon Umber, and the rest, one by one. Theon Greyjoy was the last.
"Will the knights of the Vale be joining us?" Brynden asked.
Catelyn shook her head. "Only my uncle, Ser Brynden Tully, who has left my sister's service for mine."
"It is an honor to finally meet the Blackfish," Brynden said.
"Is Ser Rodrik with you as well, Mother? I've missed him." Robb asked.
"Ser Rodrik is on his way north from White Harbor. I have named him castellan and commanded him to hold Winterfell till our return. Maester Luwin is a wise counselor, but unskilled in the arts of war."
"Have no fear on that count, Lady Stark," the Greatjon told her in his bass rumble. "Winterfell is safe. We'll shove our swords up Tywin Lannister's bunghole soon enough, begging your pardons, and then it's on to the Red Keep to free Ned."
"My lady, a question, as it please you." Roose Bolton said in a small voice. "It is said that you hold Lord Tywin's dwarf son as captive. Have you brought him to us? I vow, we should make good use of such a hostage."
"I did hold Tyrion Lannister, but no longer," Catelyn was forced to admit. She remembered what the Imp had told her about the dagger when she had shown it to him. She would have to thank Brynden later for telling her to keep it. "I was no more pleased than you, my lords. The gods saw fit to free him, with some help from my fool of a sister."
The lords were anxious to question her further, but Catelyn raised a hand. "No doubt we will have time for all this later, but my journey has fatigued me. I would speak with my sons alone. I know you will forgive me, my lords." She gave them no choice; led by the ever-obliging Lord Hornwood, the bannermen bowed and took their leave. "And you, Theon," she added when Greyjoy lingered. He smiled and left them.
"It is good to see you again, Mother," Brynden said after they were all alone. He was starting to look more and more like Ned.
"And you as well," Catelyn smiled. "I have not forgotten about our promise." She took out the Valyrian steel dagger and handed it to her son. His eyes lit up as he took it and hung it to his belt. "Tyrion Lannister told me that he had never owned a dagger like that in his life. I was deceived."
"What do you mean?" Robb asked.
"Lord Petyr Baelish told me that the blade belonged to Tyrion Lannister." How could she have let herself be fooled by him? Her mistake in trusting Littlefinger had started a war in the Riverlands. What did he hope to gain by lying about the dagger?
"There's nothing we can do about it now. The Lannisters have laid siege to Riverrun." Brynden told her.
"That's not at all. A second host even larger than Jaime's led by Lord Tywin has closed off the kingsroad. He's now marching north toward Harrenhal, burning as he goes." Robb added.
Grim and grimmer, thought Catelyn. It was worse than she'd imagined. "You mean to meet him here?" she asked.
"If he comes so far, but no one thinks he will," Robb said. "I've sent word to Howland Reed, Father's old friend at Greywater Watch. If the Lannisters come up the Neck, the crannogmen will bleed them every step of the way, but Galbart Glover says Lord Tywin is too smart for that, and Roose Bolton agrees. He'll stay close to the Trident, they believe, taking the castles of the river lords one by one, until Riverrun stands alone. We need to march south to meet him."
"Better to cut off the head," Brynden said.
The very idea of it chilled Catelyn to the bone. What chance would two fifteen-year-old boys have against seasoned battle commanders like Jaime and Tywin Lannister? "Is that wise? You are strongly placed here. It's said that the old Kings in the North could stand at Moat Cailin and throw back hosts ten times the size of their own."
"Yes, but our food and supplies are running low, and this is not land we can live off easily. We've been waiting for Lord Manderly, but now that his sons have joined us, we need to march." Robb replied.
"Marching is all very well," she said to her sons, "but where, and to what purpose? What do you mean to do?"
"The Greatjon thinks we should take the battle to Lord Tywin and surprise him," Brynden replied.
"The Glovers and the Karstarks, however, feel we'd be wiser to go around his army and join up with Uncle Ser Edmure against the Kingslayer." Robb added. He ran his fingers through his shaggy mane of auburn hair, looking unhappy. "Though by the time we reach Riverrun, I'm not certain."
Catelyn looked at Brynden, but he shook his head. "It's Robb's call, not mine."
"You two cannot afford to seem indecisive in front of men like Roose Bolton and Rickard Karstark. Make no mistake, these are your bannermen, not your friends. You named yourself battle commander. Command."
Her sons looked at her, startled, than at each other. "As you say, Mother."
"I'll ask you again. What do you mean to do?"
Robb drew a map across the table, a ragged piece of old leather covered with lines of faded paint. One end curled up from being rolled; he weighed it down with his dagger. "Both plans have virtues, but look, if we try to swing around Lord Tywin's host, we take the risk of being caught between him and the Kingslayer, and if we attack him, he has more men than we do, and a lot more armored horse. The Greatjon says that won't matter if we catch him with his breeches down, but it seems to me that a man who has fought as many battles as Tywin Lannister won't be so easily surprised."
"Good," she said. She could hear echoes of Ned in his voice, as he sat there, puzzling over the map. "Tell me more."
"I'd leave a small force here to hold Moat Cailin, archers mostly, and march the rest down the causeway," he said, "but once we're below the Neck, I'd split our host in two. The foot can continue down the kingsroad, while our horsemen cross the Green Fork at the Twins." He pointed. "When Lord Tywin gets word that we've come south, he'll march north to engage our main host, leaving our riders free to hurry down the west bank to Riverrun."
Catelyn frowned down at the map. "You'd put a river between the two parts of your army."
"And between Jaime and Lord Tywin," he said eagerly. "There's no crossing on the Green Fork above the ruby ford, where Robert won his crown. Not until the Twins, all the way up here, and Lord Frey controls that bridge. He's your father's bannerman, isn't that so?"
The Late Lord Frey, Catelyn thought. "He is," she admitted, "but my father has never trusted him. Nor should you two."
"We won't," Brynden promised.
"What do you think?" Robb asked.
She was impressed despite herself. "Which force would you two command?"
"The horse," Robb answered at once. "Brynden will lead the other host." Her second son did not seem pleased, and knew it was because he wanted to fight his first battle by Robb's side. "Lord Bolton will be Brynden's second-in-command."
Catelyn also didn't want to see her sons to be separated, but Robb was wise enough to give command of the second host to his brother. "A good choice."
Robb nodded and rolled up the map. "I'll give the commands, and assemble an escort to take you home to Winterfell."
"I am not going to Winterfell," she heard herself say, surprised at the sudden rush of tears that blurred her vision. "My father may be dying behind the walls of Riverrun. My brother is surrounded by foes. I must go to them."
Reviews
jean d'arc: Ros is a small reason as to why Brynden doesn't trust Theon. He doesn't trust him because he's a Greyjoy and because his family had caused his father to go to war.
BigWilly526: No.
madwamoose: Glad you love it.