Tyrion:
"I want at least a foot or two in between each line, we need to make sure everyone of the bastards feel the flames." Ordered Harlys as he oversaw his new recruits digging the pitch lines.
Tyrion himself was seated at a war table that was set up before Harroway tower, and he was feasting on a roasted carp while he looked over the possible routes the Lannister and Frey army could take. "Do we have enough pitch?" He asked absentmindedly.
Harlys turned and sat back down at his seat. "Aye, we have plenty to use and even more left over. The land around here is good for collecting it, as it's still all green and such." The supreme commander of the Bright Banners tapped a large clay container of the black substance and japed. "Stuff sticks to everything and everyone though, It will take my boys days to get clean."
"Good, I've already focused the Swann men on rolling balls of grass up here. I trust your men will handle the rest?" Tyrion asked as he lifted his eyes from his maps to take a sip of wine.
Harlys let out a chuckle. "My boys will handle that in no time at all. Just lug the bloody things to the top of the hill, light em and then send em down hill onto our foes."
"That is the plan. It won't kill many, but it will split what ever lines they formed and it will enrage them and hopefully they'll miss the pitch lines until it's too late." Tyrion had read up on this very strategy and of it's inventor years ago and was happy he did. "And what of our secret weapon?" Tyrion asked in a hushed voice as the shadow of the tower fell over them.
"Is that still something you want?" Harlys asked as he leaned in.
Tyrion looked back at the tower and nodded. "I do."
Without another word Harlys stood from the table and bowed. "Then I will ensure it's ready in time, please excuse me, Lord Tyrion."
Looking around Harroway's Town, Tyrion knew that this would be the site of many deaths. The horrors of war spare nothing and no one. All had gone like Tyrion and Aegon had thought it would, and the smallfolk of the town were coerced to flee their homes for Harrenhal at thepromise of food. Although Tyrion and most of them knew that they had no choice and this way at least resulted in no deaths and they could recover their valuables and the septon and septas of the ruined sept were happy enough not to be robbed and have their sept pillaged again. I will do my absolute best not to destroy it, but I can't make promises for my enemies. Tyrion had told them and the septon had told Tyrion he would pray for it's safety.
"Could have prayed for my safety." Tyrion japed out loud and he then decided he had sat for long enough. "Bryce, I'm finished with my meal." Tyrion called out to his squire, who was a fourth born son from the second line House Cave. In the small time he had known the boy, Tyrion had wished he had Pod back, as Bryce was thoroughly ruthless and vain and only cared for glory and battle.
"Right away." Bryce Cave said through gritted teeth, as he always hated the less glamorous jobs a squire must do. So as a result, Tyrion always made sure he had many letters that needed carrying and always took no less then three baths a day, which Bryce had to fill and heat for him.
"Oh, and be sure to take care of those maps, you know how I like triangular folds for how easy they are to transport." Tyrion could almost see the boy's face turning red in rage. Remember this next time you jape about me and kinslaying, boy.
"Do you fare well my Lord?" Asked Ser Bennard Brune.
Tyrion turned to the voice and saw the thick and muscled Ser walking over to him. "Ah, hello to you. Are your men prepared yet?"
Bennard nodded. "Aye they are, and we could fight right now if we had to. I hope those Bright Banner fellows have the skills they promised." Tyrion knew that many of the Knights and Lords still held resentment over the important job of setting the traps being given off, but Tyrion couldn't help it as he needed to be sure that they were perfect.
"They seem to be handling it quite well." Tyrion responded as they both walked to the army camp established outside of the village. It had nearly doubled in size since the Swann troops added themselves to the army at nearly six thousand men, which was commanded by Ashter Storm; the master-at-arms of Stonehelm. He had sent half his force to Harrenhal to enforce the ruined castle, and with the rest he took Darry in the night and found Amerei Frey abed with Harwyn Plumm in the Lord's bedroom. After he had threatened to behead both and toss their heads off the castle balcony the small Lannister garrison surrendered.
"Have you gotten word from the king yet?" Bennard asked nonchalantly as he kept his head forward.
Tyrion knew that if served poor for them not to hear word from their king, but Tyrion knew it wouldn't help to lie. "Not of yet, but I'm expecting a letter any day now." And Tyrion hoped it was one of good news, as he knew word of a great victory would bolster their men's morale for the coming battle.
Ser Brune was disheartened by that news, but he didn't let it show. "I'm sure you're right, after all I'm sure my Nuncle won't let him come to any harm." Tyrion felt he was right as Bennard's uncle was the Boulderfist Bryce Brune. When Tyrion had first met the man he knew that the tales did him true justice, as he stood nearly a head taller than Aegon and was thrice as thick, but what truly stood out was his grotesque mass of flesh he called his left hand that nearly was as large as Tyrion's own head. And fate saw it fit to give him greyscale at the age of seven and luckily it didn't claim his life, but it did turn his deformity hard as a rock and he was ever since known as the Boulderfist. He had earned several honors as he fought for the Targaryen's like all of the Clawmen did during Robert's Rebellion.
"And have your hunters found any luck on our wolf problem?" Tyrion asked, as that had weighed heavily on his already troubled mind of late. Nearly a week past one of their supply carts was ravaged and the men were killed by what looked to be wolves and the peasants had told stories of a giant wolf that lead a pack of nearly two hundred strong. He would not have believed their tales of a monster wolf if not for the fact he had seen the Stark children's dire wolves all those years ago. Some of the more superstitious talked of the wolf being a manifestation of Robb Stark's vengeance, but Tyrion had heard that the youngest Stark girl's wolf had gone missing before they made it to King's Landing.
Bennard Brune didn't seem to be very enthused as he responded. "Aye, we tracked them, but they turned west. So we won't be able to send any more out until the battle is over." Tyrion knew that he considered himself a great hunter, as when he heard of the monster wolf he swore that he would kill the beast and present Aegon with the pelt.
"If they're going west then at least they'll leave our supply lines clear and unharassed. Mayhaps the wolves will do us the great favor of ending themselves on our enemies."
"I rather hope the she-wolf leading them lives long enough to find me, as I have just a spear calling for her flesh." Bennard obviously didn't want for courage, although Tyrion wondered how it would hold up if he ever met the beast, as rumors said it was near the size of a horse and twice as fast.
"Mayhaps the Gods will reward you good Ser. But I must bid you farewell, as I have words I must share with our guest, Ser Plumm."
Bennard squinted his eyes and nodded his head. "Do you need some help making Ser Softballs squeal? Boy has tight lips from what I've heard."
That name will never be forgotten. Tyrion japed in his head, as Ashter Storm had loudly told and retold the story of how he found Harwyn naked and dragged him into the cold courtyard with nothing on, and it didn't reflect well on his manhood. "I'm sure I'll have no shortage of helpers there, but thank you Ser. I'll see you at the council tonight." Ser Brune agreed and turned back up the hill towards the Harroway Tower, and Tyrion didn't doubt it was to complain about the work rate of the Bright Banners, and of how he and his could do it faster.
It hadn't taken him long to find the circular pen of stakes made for Harwyn, as they had placed it in the center of the camp to be sure he couldn't stage an escape. Tyrion knew many found amusement at tossing shit and other fouls things at Harwyn to amuse themselves and it sickened his stomach, but he didn't see the benefit in stopping it. The septons would have a fit if they saw him, and then after I told them of how he was found they would demand for his judgement and her execution no doubt. Tyrion couldn't help a snicker from rising and he thanked his good fortune that most of the zealots followed Aegon and not himself.
"Lord Lannister." Called out Ser Ashter as he saw Tyrion. "Here to see Plumm balls are you?"
"I am," Tyrion answered and ignored Ashter's joke looked up at the master-at-arms and asked. "Is he well?"
The ordinary looking man smirked and moved out of the way. "Take a look for yourself." He banged the wooden wall with the back of his hand and the whole structure rattled. "Wake yourself, the Hand of the King is here."
Harwyn had seen better times as his copper hair had turned brown with either dirt or dung. Tyrion hoped it was the former, but the smell made him think otherwise. "What do you want, Imp?"
Tyrion stepped closer to the bars and saw that Harwyn's hands were bound over his head and they were then in turn tied to the stakes behind him. "I won't waste your time, because we both know that you don't like me and I don't particularly like you. So had you seen my brother before you were captured?"
Thankfully Harwyn didn't seem to be strong enough to want a fight, so he answered quickly. "Last I heard he went to end the siege of Riverrun, and that was months ago."
And no doubt from Gatehouse Ami Frey while you fucked her in my cousin's bed. Tyrion had his answer and almost left, but stopped and remembered another thorn that Tyrion felt they would need to deal with soon. "I remember hearing that you were trying to destroy the Brotherhood Without Banners. Were you ever successful?" Tyrion knew he wasn't, as rumors of the group still flourished and even more so of haunting tales of a mute called the Hangwoman who leads them. Tyrion himself had seen the results of this Hangwoman and saw nearly thirty corpses that swung to and fro from the trees, some had been picked clean by birds, but some still retained their flesh.
Plumm didn't try to hide his shame and anger then. "I followed them over the Trident when I heard rumors, but after I did I lost them. They're probably dead already, the bounty on their heads is growing every day and the Frey's are out for revenge."
And the Crown spends more and more. "Pity, but I suppose it saved you from swinging like the rest who went after them. Keep safe, Ser Harwyn. Mayhaps your father will give terms for your release soon." Tyrion then nodded to Ashter that he was finished.
Harwyn was however not finished talking yet. "I bet you find this highly amusing, Imp."
Tyrion didn't turn to look at Harwyn, but he could see a smirk growing on Ashter's face. "I don't know what you mean?"
"Me in here sitting in my own shit and piss, while you look down on me all clean and such, probably had a meal of lamb not too long ago I bet."
"I don't know about him, but I certainly enjoy seeing such an arrogant prick like yourself in this manner. Made you feel like a real man I imagine when you were cuckolding Lancel Lannister ehh? Man opened his home and castle to you and you fuck his wife in their marital bed." Ashter's voice was loud and teemed with humor he found.
Harwyn didn't seem to take any shame in how Ashter described the events prior to his capture. "He didn't even consummate their wedding, and she practically dragged me into her bed. So I don't find anything wrong in what I did, and we both enjoyed ourselves."
Ashter pulled his head back and laughed loud enough for everyone to hear at Riverrun. "You and probably half of the Riverlands from what I've heard. Gatehouse Ami opens her legs to the nearest beast with a cock I've heard, maybe Lord Tyrion should go see how she feels for himself?"
"I'd imagine you'll need quite a few men to hold her down, no women in her right senses would like to stare at his face for long let alone let him touch them."
Harwyn's flippant tone had angered Ashter and he made him no his mistake as he walked over to his bindings and pulled back on them. "You have any other funny words for me? I could snap those arms of yours like they were twigs." Harwyn did his best to not give him the satisfaction of asking for mercy, but it didn't last long as Ashter had lifted him off the ground by the bindings and was still pulling hard and wrenching Harwyn's arms back by the shoulders.
"Enough, my feelings don't hurt that easily." Tyrion didn't care to listen or watch Harwyn suffer so he left the center of the camp and turned towards his pavilion. He had nearly been there, before a loud and rowdy cheer rung throughout the camp. Good they're enjoying themselves. Tyrion chuckled and gave a polite nod to the guards standing along his red and white pavilion. After he had sat down he pulled his boots off and looked for a good book to pass the time with.
His peace didn't last long before Bryce Cave flung himself through the opening and nearly tumbled against the table. "Word just arrived!" He panted out in excitement.
"What is it?" Tyrion asked in desperation as he closed the book.
Before Bryce could answer, William Mooton came jogging in as fast as he could with two opened letters in hand. "Word just arrived-"
"I know my squire just told me, now what has happened?" Tyrion asked and pushed his cup of wine into Bryce's hand lest he keel over.
Lord Mooton came to the side of the table and held both letters before Tyrion. "The Gods favor our cause, and now the whole realm knows it!" Tyrion gave him one threatening look and Mooton knew that now was not the time to doddle or mince words. "King Aegon writes that the Bloody Gate has fallen before him, and that the garrison turned on itself and opened the mighty gates before them."
Tyrion snatched the letter from his hand and began reading through it. Yohn came through for us, and both sides of the garrison took heavy casualties. We rode our heavy horses through the gate and cut the chains so they couldn't lock us out. The fighting was close quarters for half an hour, before they broke and then some fled while the others held strong. Donnel Waynwood was slain by Lyn Corbray who then took twin arrows to the his body. He took several more wounds and then we clashed our steel on the stone bridge, but rest assured for he is now dead. I have moved out towards the Gates of Moon and by the time this reaches you it should be mine. Keep safe and healthy my friend, and I'll rejoin you with the army of the Vale soon if all my luck holds. King Aegon the Sixth of House Targaryen. Tyrion noted that the title was in different and cleaner handwriting, and he guessed it was Edric's hand.
"It's amazing!" Bryce exclaimed in excitement and Tyrion knew that he would probably dream of being at that battle.
Mooton's hand still held firm on the last letter, and Tyrion noted that his face was anything but ecstatic or joyous. "This I believe is the most important news, it's from a scout near Riverrun," Tyrion took the letter from him and Mooton's voice was monotone and eerie. "I don't think we'll need those pitch lines anymore."