Three days after the meeting in Riverrun's Great Hall, the united armies of the North and the Trident left Riverrun. The entire castle turned out to see them leave; boys and women cheering as rank after rank of mailed men passed through the gates, banners flying. Alyssa thought to herself as she rode that she had never seen such a spectacle before; even Pyke had been mainly foot, as horsemen would have been useless storming the castle. Here though, hundreds and thousands of mounted knights were trotting along the River Road, colours waving gaily. Behind them all came the supply train; hundreds of wagons loaded with food, spare weapons and arrowheads, along with the dismantled siege engines from Stone Hedge.
Arya had expressed her desire to join the fighting, and after three foiled attempts to disguise herself as a soldier, Alyssa, remembering her own determination during the Greyjoy Rebellion, had sought out her sister for a private word. After swearing to guard her niece with her life, and not to let her out of her sight, Arya was allowed to accompany Alyssa as a second squire of sorts. Fortunately, Arya and Olyvar got on quite well together, and so the arrangement worked. Arya tended to Alyssa's swords and horse, while due to her incompetence in the kitchen; Olyvar handled the cooking and maintenance of Alyssa's armor and saddle.
After nearly a week on the march, the host reached Riverhold, and Alyssa offered the hospitality of her seat to the lords for the night, while outside the castle, fires burned in a ring for miles around as the men made camp. The Northmen, having not yet seen Riverhold, were impressed by the strength of the small castle, though less so by its origins when Alyssa told the story of how Riverhold came to be. The Greatjon in particular; could be seen making a face when he heard Lannister gold had built the castle, as if Riverhold's walls could taint him with filth by their very presence. As for Arya, she was open-mouthed at her aunt's seat, and Alyssa began contemplating taking her niece as her heir after the war, if Catelyn was agreeable, not to mention Arya herself.
Taking advantage of the night spent at her home, Alyssa used the time to see to her defences. As Alyssa had hoped, Lord Piper had beaten the army there, and his men were already gone, replaced by the reinforcements she had sent. She gave orders that the men were to be drilled daily, and as for Maester Lucas, who would hold the castle in her absence, he was simply ordered not to let Riverhold fall, no matter what.
The other matter that had to be sorted before they left was the order of march. Now that they were getting closer to the West, the casual parade they had formed would no longer serve, and they must needs march in battle formation. The men of the Riverlands would march first, as they knew the lands they would be crossing better than the Northmen, who would take up the rear. As for who to send first, Alyssa gave the honour of leading the van, to much surprise, to Lord Lucias and House Vypren.
This caused some confusion, as it was known that Alyssa and Lord Lucias were not close, but Alyssa had her reasons. She knew that keeping Lord Lucias happy was key if she wanted his men, and the Vypren men were irate at their role in the war so far. First spending most of their time in the boring "siege" of Stone Hedge, and then relegated to guarding the baggage train and prisoners during the Camps and the Woods, the men of Greenwater Bound wanted a chance to win glory, and Alyssa would give it to them.
Her other reason was less pleasant, however. To reach the Westerlands, the army must travel along the River Road through the pass guarded by the fortress Golden Tooth. This way was the most direct route through which a Riverlands army could invade the West by land, and House Lefford was sure to have it well-defended. There would be blood before they broke through, and Alyssa would rather that blood be from the Vyprens, who were less committed to the Kingdom of the Trident, than more loyal Houses, such as the Mallisters or Freys.
If Lord Lucias on the other hand was weakened, Alyssa would shed few tears over it, as a decrease in his power meant a decrease in the threat he could pose. He was still a Riverman, and she would never deliberately send Rivermen into an ambush, but if one was sprung, better him than her. After Vypren she sent the men of Maidenpool. Lord Mooton had committed late, and though his men outnumbered her own by more than two to one; they were green as grass and unused to battle. Putting them in the front line would either get them some badly needed experience, or have them killed before they could do any damage to the rest of the army, she cared little either way.
To stiffen them, she placed the forces of House Roote behind them, and after them the power of House Frey. Only eight hundred men marched under the banner of the two-headed horse now, but they were good fighters who had proven themselves at the Camps and again at the Woods. As for the Freys, they outnumbered Mooton by more than a thousand. The presence of their sheer numbers at the backs of the Mooton men should hearten them and prevent them from running; or give them second thoughts about doing so if need be.
Unable to trust to the quality of House Mooton's levies, Alyssa had had private words with Ser Ryman, and the heir to the Crossing had his orders. If the men of Maidenpool turned mid-battle, they were to be killed. After their lord's hesitation to commit, bordering on treason, Alyssa had run out of patience with the red salmon banner and those who served under it. Mooton's men would fight, or they would die.
After the Freys, in the centre of the army and another position of honour, Alyssa's own forces came next, Riverhold's power battered and weakened from the fighting, but the remainder were hardened men who proudly marched on, her grey dolphin dancing overhead. At their backs, the silver eagle of House Mallister flew high as Ser Patrek Mallister, heir to Seagard, led his House's remaining forces in his father's stead, Lord Jason having returned to Seagard as ordered, to reinforce the port town.
Many had questioned Alyssa's decision in placing those who had fought with her since the start in the rear, including Lord Karyl Vance himself, upset at what he saw as a dishonourable position. Taking him aside, however, Alyssa had quietly explained that she wanted someone she could trust at the rear to ensure both that they weren't ambushed as they entered the Westerlands, and that they were not betrayed. A glance to Vypren showed exactly who she meant, and with a glare at the untrustworthy man, Lord Karyl withdrew his objections. He rode last, therefore, a man Alyssa knew she could trust not to turn on her, while House Vance of Atranta guarded his front, and the dancing maiden of Piper occupied the final slot on the order of march; between Mallister and Vance.
Sentries guarded the flanks of the camp watchfully, waiting for any attempt by the Lannisters to attack the army or supply train in the night, but it seemed that the failed effort to take Riverrun had expended most of their resources in the region, and Alyssa slept peacefully. She rose from her sleep just before dawn, and had time for a proper meal before the first light of day broke the sky. It took a little longer to break camp and get moving than she thought, more than thirty thousand men do not move quickly, but after an hour they were on the march again.
Riverhold was the last friendly stronghold before the Golden Tooth, and so for over two weeks the army camped by the side of the road when the day's march was done, before continuing on the next day. At last, they reached the point where the road narrowed and curved upwards through the hills, wide enough perhaps for twenty men on horseback side by side, or thirty if they were packed tight.
This, Alyssa knew, is where it gets dangerous.
Looming over the trail like a stone block ready to fall was the Golden Tooth, the castle sitting on the natural flat shoulder of one of the mountains flanking the pass. A small road led from the Tooth down to join the main River Road, and Alyssa knew at any moment Lefford knights could pour out and strike them in the flank as the army passed.
Frowning, she sent a messenger to the van, instructing Lord Lucias to scout out the road ahead before proceeding. His riders went forth, and soon returned with the message that a small Western force was dug in to defend the road ahead. Well armoured men with pikes, spears and ranks of archers behind them. Wagons had been overturned to provide some semblance of a defensive wall, and large numbers of tents had been erected in the pass behind them. Vypren estimated the enemy numbers as close to three thousand all told. This was no group of peasants; this was trained soldiers defending their homeland.
Here the men of the West would make their stand.
Of course Lord Lucias did have more men under his command, if only just, and the Lord of Greenwater Bound apparently thought that his forces could smash the Westermen's defences aside, because he ordered his cavalry forward. His knights went first, an armoured wedge of three hundred and forty men intended to punch through the Lannister defences. After them came five hundred more lightly armoured horsemen, their role to cut down the fleeing Lannisters once the knights broke their lines. His foot marched behind, ready to mop up any remainder once the cavalry were finished.
Watching from his position at the centre of the Western defensive line, Ser Addam Marbrand's smile was feral as he raised his hand, signalling to his trumpeter. A good friend of Ser Jaime since childhood, the heir to Ashemark was eager to avenge his friend's captivity, and hurting the Rivermen would settle the score nicely. Slashing his hand down, he gave the signal and a trumpet call echoed through the hills. Jaime had fallen for Alyssa Tully's trap at Riverhold. Now, Ser Addam would return the favour.
As the power of Greenwater Bound, Maidenpool and Lord Harroway's Town approached the Western lines, Lord Vypren noted idly as he rode at the head of his men, that the banner flying over the centre of the enemy formations was not the golden lion of Lannister, but rather a burning tree on gray, the sigil of House Marbrand of Ashemark. A trumpet blew as they approached, alerting the Westermen to their approach but it was far too late to for that. He gripped his lance more tightly, ready to slam the weight of weapon, horse and his body into the enemy, but then a shadow from above drew his attention, and Lord Vypren learned a very important lesson of warfare.
Just because your enemy does not immediately react to your presence does not mean he will not react, or that he lacks the ability to.
House Lefford had held the pass for thousands of years, and destroyed many armies attempting to attack the Westerlands. They had had plenty of time to range their catapults on the road with deadly accuracy, and even though the Tooth was a small castle, unable to mount on its walls the large trebuchets used by castles such as Winterfell or Casterly Rock, the Lefford defenders had more than found a way to compensate for it. The catapults were loaded not with large boulders, but with bundles of smaller rocks tied together, each stone the size of a man's head. The force involved in being flung from the catapult tore the bindings apart, scattering their cargo wide and the shower of rocks crashing down among the Vypren cavalry caused instant chaos.
Many men were killed instantly, others screaming as their horses panicked and instinctively ran off the road, dragging their terrified riders with them to their deaths, Lord Lucias among them. A literal rain of arrows followed from the hundreds of archers stationed on the Tooth's walls and behind the Lannister lines, killing more horses and causing a blockage that stopped the charge in its tracks. Yet more of the back ranks slammed into their fallen fellows and were unhorsed, their steeds breaking legs or throwing their riders off the edge. Chaos ensued in the small space as the Vypren cavalry disintegrated under the unexpected barrage.
Alyssa watched, open-mouthed, as the surprise attack destroyed the vanguard in seconds. She should have ordered a retreat at this point, but her mind was totally blank and her hands hung at her sides, useless. She simply couldn't comprehend how utterly the Leffords had outmaneuvered her, and with many of the same tactics she had used at Riverhold, to make it worse. Shaking her head violently to snap herself out of it, Alyssa turned to the nearby messenger waiting for orders.
"Tell Ser Ryman to advance and support the van. The Tooth shouldn't be able to fire their catapults again for a few minutes, so if his men keep their shields up they should be safe from the arrows."
The man nodded and raced away, and soon Alyssa was glad to see the mass of blue and grey wearing men moving up to join the fight. The weight of the Frey numbers allowed them to push their way through the dead bodies blocking the path, and soon the defenders found themselves forced to fight for real as the few remaining fragments of the vanguard gained new heart with the arrival of their Frey comrades.
Twin towers met burning trees and golden lions, spears thrusting back and forth and longswords slashing out, men screaming in agony on both sides and falling in pools of blood. Steel met flesh and flesh gave way as the men of the Riverlands and Westerlands grimly held on, determined that the enemy would be the first one to fall. Arrows fell on both sides as bowstrings sang and archers targeted any enemy they could see.
Trumpets blowing drew Alyssa's attention to the Tooth itself, where the gates opened and a column of knights surged forth to strike the Freys in the flank, She watched as Ser Ryman's banner swayed and finally fell as the Lefford knights did their deadly work. Even the defenders were joining in now, leaving their defences to attack with spear and sword, while arrows continued to rain on any part of the Frey ranks not already overrun with Western forces.
Marbrand had chosen his defensive position with care, and the pass was too narrow for the remainder of the Tully forces to join the fight and save their comrades. Unable to bring their numbers to bear, the men of the Riverlands contributed as best they could; archers sending arrows at any exposed part of the Western line, but it was a drop in an ocean; nowhere near enough. The Northern army, trapped behind the Tullys and unable to aid in any way, could only watch, stone-faced as thousands died above them.
It wasn't going all the Westermen's way though, as with the momentum of their charge spent, the weight of the Frey ranks began to envelop the attacking knights. Acting quickly, the Lefford commander sounded a retreat, and those of his knights not already surrounded expertly turned tail, showing their experience and skill at moving in the tight conditions. Arrows rained down from the Tooth's walls, forcing the remaining Freys back, and buying time for the rest of the Lefford knights, slightly less than three-quarters of the strength they started with, to withdraw back to the safety of the Tooth's walls.
The Leffords' retreat had Ser Addam gritting his teeth in rage, as he'd hoped to destroy the entirety of the Tully host while the tight conditions prevented them from withdrawing swiftly, but Lord Leo Lefford knew what he was doing. It was simply not possible for their men, not even six thousand in total, to destroy the Tully forces, which outnumbered them three to one, without support from the Golden Tooth, and the rest of the Tully host was just out of range of the Tooth's defences. If they attacked, the castle could give them no support.
That wasn't even considering the Stark army behind the Tullys, another twenty thousand or so men who would destroy the Lefford and Marbrand men without difficulty if they chose to attack. No, they'd done as much damage as they could right now, Lord Leo knew, and now they had to pull back, refortify and wait for the next assault. Now that they'd lost the element of surprise, this would become a long, boring affair as the Tullys would likely attempt to starve them out. Ser Addam didn't agree with Lord Leo's decision, he felt they could at least have finished off the Frey forces; but his withdrawal left Ser Addam with no choice, and so with clenched fist he ordered his men to pull back.
With their allies clear of the line of fire, the Tooth's archers were free to loose at will, and another wave of rocks fell among the Freys, killing many more, but with Marbrand's men now withdrawing, the Freys were unimpeded from retreating, and the men of the Crossing were able to make their way safely out of range, close to a quarter of their number left behind. After a bare few minutes, it was over, with and Alyssa, numb with shock, ordered a retreat, pulling her army out of range of the Tooth's weaponry to a secure, flatter spot on the border of the Riverlands and Westerlands, where she could take stock of her losses.
As it turned out, they were staggering. Lord Vypren was dead, along with all the men under his command. Though she hadn't liked the man, Alyssa had no wish to see him die, and she grieved for the loss of so many men. The Mooton levies had been killed to a man as well, as had the men of Lord Harroway's Town, and Alyssa silently apologized to the young Lord Roote for failing in the trust he had placed in her. As for House Frey, Ser Ryman had fallen in the Lefford surprise attack, along with six hundred of his men, mainly horsed.
Ser Ryman's death left his son ,Ser Walder Frey, also known as "Black Walder"; in command of the Frey forces, and Alyssa would have to act quickly to ensure the Frey knight did not hold any animosity about the deaths of his men or his father. Knowing what she did about House Frey and their politics, as well as the man himself, Black Walder would curse the loss of men as it decreased the power of House Frey, but would care little for his father's passing as it simply meant one less person between him and the Twins. All up, the ambush had cost Alyssa four thousand men, close to a full third of the Tully host. As for the Lannisters, between Lefford knights and Marbrand's forces, they had lost slightly more than a tenth of that.
This is the worst defeat we've suffered since Edmure lost on the Red Fork.
Standing alone in her tent after the Riverlands forces hastily made camp, thankfully the baggage wagons were at the rear of the host and untouched, Alyssa's head was bowed as her despair overtook her. Armour gently clinked at the entrance to the tent, and she didn't even bother to raise her head; she had given orders that she was not to be disturbed and there was only one person that wore plate armor who would come to her tent unannounced. A hand rested gently on her arm, despite the gauntlet covering it, and Alyssa looked up reluctantly to see her uncle standing there, his face inscrutable.
Neither spoke for a moment, Brynden content merely to stand there until Alyssa broke the silence of her own accord. After a few moments, she could hold herself back no more.
"How did this happen?" she burst out. "We had the Lannisters on the run, the war was all but won!"
"Exactly" the Blackfish's voice was more serious than Alyssa had ever heard him as he explained their recent defeat. "You knew you'd won even before you reached Casterly Rock. You thought the Lannisters utterly beaten, that their fighting spirit was so broken along with their army that they wouldn't dare put up a fight, and you could stroll through the West as you wanted."
Alyssa flinched at that, knowing in her heart that her uncle was right, and Brynden pressed on mercilessly. "River Dolphin. The smallfolk of the Trident speak about you like you can't be beaten, and somewhere along the way you started to believe it"
With a bitter sigh, Alyssa hung her head in defeat again only for her uncle's arm to touch her shoulder again, this time more gently.
"This isn't the first time you've fallen for a Lannister trap. You get overconfident, Alyssa, and you let the enemy dictate the battlefield to you, as opposed to the other way around."
He's right, Alyssa thought bitterly to herself. I've gotten arrogant in my victories.
"You're right" Alyssa looked up, a new fire in her eyes. "That has to stop now, or more men will continue to die."
"That's the girl I know" Brynden smiled. "Now, go come up with some genius plan and get us through that pass."
Alyssa smiled faintly at that; no matter how old she was, her uncle would always have the ability to make her feel like a little girl whenever she made a mistake, and then be there to help her through it. Heaving a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and left the tent, calling for those who wished to speak with her to come to council.
As she took her seat at the head of the small table which was all they could carry on the march, she could see Black Walder glaring at her over the other side, black beard neatly trimmed and doing nothing to hide his expression of displeasure. Clenching her hands together to hide any trembling, she placed them on the table in front of her and looked over them.
"My apologies, my lords." With Maege Mormont and her daughters absent, Alyssa felt no need to add 'my ladies', and so instead turned her attention towards Black Walder. "My condolences, Ser Frey, for the death of your father. He died nobly, fighting for the Riverlands."
"He died because you were a fool" the dark-haired man responded coldly. "Died along with six hundred of our men for it."
Alyssa bowed her head in acknowledgement, but her mind was elsewhere as she saw the Greatjon shift angrily in his seat. With Roslin now her brother's Queen, the Freys were tied to the Tully cause as tightly as possible. Black Walder might say what he wanted for the sake of it, but both knew he was not about to leave. The Northmen on the other hand, were a different story.
Unlike the Rivermen, who were fighting to avenge the damage done to the Riverlands, the Northerners were in this war to free their beloved Lord Eddard and his imprisoned daughter; and neither of them was in the Westerlands. Saving them would require marching on King's Landing, and only the danger of being struck in the rear by the new army Tywin Lannister was mustering had convinced them to attack the West.
The threat of the new Lannister host had to be removed, but one more defeat like this and the Northmen could very well decide to attack the capital regardless. That would be disastrous, as though Alyssa was loath to admit it, the Riverlands forces lacked the strength to take the West without the aid of the North, especially now.
"I understand your anger, Ser Walder, the Lannister have lured me into a trap twice now. I promise you, there will not be a third time."
"That's all well and good" growled the Greatjon, "but now they know we're coming. And since they just ran us off, any chance of them surrendering before our numbers just went down to zero. Any morale gains you made with your victories in the Riverlands were wiped out today."
"He's right" Black Walder rejoined the conversation. "They'll be better prepared now, and expecting another attack, this pass will be reinforced before too long. So, 'River Dolphin'" his voice would brook no falsehoods, "can you find a way?"
After a moment, Alyssa looked him in the eyes. "I don't know yet" she answered, "but I can tell you this, Ser. If there is a way, I will find it. Now if you will excuse me, my lords, I must think."
She pushed her chair away from the table and strode back to her own tent, not daring to look behind her. Standing in front of her own table, she unrolled a map of the region and looked over it carefully, trying to find a way to bypass the Western army in the pass, or at least find a way to get some of her heavy cavalry in position behind them. Immediately, she discounted the main roads, too obvious and heavily defended. A sea approach was out as well, unless she could find a way to defeat the Lannister fleet, or at least avoid it. Since it numbered at least twenty warships, and the only fleet Alyssa had access to was the Mallister fleet of eight, that was unlikely to say the least.
That left finding some route through the mountains that the Lefford's hadn't managed to discover in their millennia holding the pass. Not a good proposition. Alyssa's eyes scoured the maps again, but she kept seeing the same things. Aside from the roads, the only break in the mountains was the courses taken by the two rivers that flowed down from them. What the men of the Riverlands liked to forget is that the rivers they were so proud of began in the Westerlands. The Red Fork began in the western mountains, the rocks and mud collected on its way down giving it its name, and joined with the Blue and Green Forks to form the mighty river Trident that the region was known for.
Alyssa briefly considered sending boats up the Red Fork; the river was wide and slow-moving afterall, so perfect for an amphibious attack, but a quick glance at the map discounted that idea. The Red Fork began as only a trickle, and grew wider and deeper as it flowed downward into the Riverlands. For any attack to succeed, the invading force would need to move past the Golden Tooth and into the heart of the Westerlands, before turning back to strike the pass' defenders in the rear. The Red Fork, regrettably, was not wide enough for boats until it neared the Tooth, which was too close to attempt an attack. The garrison would see it coming and the banks would be well-defended by the time boats arrived.
The other river running through the Westerlands, and the only other natural route into the region was the Tumblestone, but that river ran swift and deep, leading Alyssa to discard it almost immediately. A shame too, for the Tumblestone began deep in the Westerlands and widened rapidly. At the point they would need to disembark to attack the Tooth, the river was more than sufficiently large for the task. Longingly, she took a second glance at it, but sighed as she admitted defeat.
The current was far too fast to row upstream, and though poling a boat against the current by pushing long poles into the riverbed was a proven way of travelling upriver, it was slow, and the Leffords would have more than enough time to ready themselves for their arrival. Suddenly she flicked the map off her table and reached for another, carefully examining the banks of the Tumblestone. Luck was with her, as the river's banks were high all the way to the border, a low boat with no sail should be able to pass unnoticed along the river, especially if no-one was looking for it.
Everyone knows the Tumblestone is impassable against the current, Alyssa thought to herself with grim joy, just as I knew the Lannisters were beaten. Uncle Brynden was right, we only know what we can prove.
She turned to leave the tent, only to stop in her tracks as another problem occurred to her.
True, sending troops up the Tumblestone may be unexpected, but even then, I can only keep that a secret for so long. The more men I move up the river, the greater the chance of being detected. If that happens, they'll strengthen their defences to the rear and all this was pointless.
Rocking back on her heels, she tapped her chin for a moment as she thought carefully.
I don't think I can risk sending more than a thousand men, but that isn't enough to break through. Even if we disrupt the defenders by hitting them in the rear, the Golden Tooth is still close enough to make any attack we launch bloody indeed. What we need is a way for a small unit to deliver a devastating blow, and at the very least, force the defenders to retreat.
Thinking of the barren mountains around them, Alyssa briefly considered having the thousand men come up from behind and closing the road; thereby cutting the Westermen's supply line, but she immediately rejected that idea.
Even if they don't eat for a few days, they'll have weeks to bring in more food; the Tooth alone must have enough supplies stored to feed hundreds of men for moons if not years.
Glaring at the map, Alyssa absently reached for her waterskin to moisten her dry mouth. Shaking it, she frowned at the small amount of liquid she could hear splashing around.
I'll have to get more.
Gulping down the last of her water, she sighed at the thought of having to subsist on two waterskins a day from now on. Having fought all her wars in the Riverlands, where the rivers had so many tiny streams coming from them they couldn't be drawn on maps; supplying their armies with water was one problem the lords of the Trident never had while on campaign. You simply made camp next to a decent sized stream and your troops could have as much as they could boil and drink.
The dry, rocky pass, however, was lacking in any form of water source; the closest being the well inside the Golden Tooth, and even though the allied armies were no longer on the road itself; they were still far enough away from a river to require that the men ration their water. Shaking her head absently, Alyssa glanced at her now empty skin, before shrugging and leaving to refill it.
At least we know the Lannisters must be having it worse than us. With over three thousand men, the Tooth's well can't possibly be supplying them all, they'd never be able to get the water out of the castle to enough men each day. They must be bringing wagons up from somewhere else…
A gasp burst from her lips, and she glanced again at the map to make sure her suspicions were right, A quick calculation gave her the answer, and her lips drew into a smile.
Racking her brains for everything she knew about river travel as well as boat building, Alyssa called for Arya and Olyvar, and bade them call Ser Patrek Mallister to her tent along with Black Walder Frey. The Mallister and Frey lands lay along the Blue Fork, the fastest river in the whole Riverlands, and if any could help her with this endeavour, it would be them.
The heir to Seagard was a man only a few years younger than Alyssa, and he greeted her with a smile. A bright person, he provided the perfect counter to Black Walder's grim disposition, and his positive support was enough incentive for the Frey knight to at least think seriously about the possibility of Alyssa's plan succeeding. After a moment, he nodded and then began offering suggestions to improve the scheme.
The candles had burnt low late into the night by the time they were satisfied, but glancing over their plan one last time, Black Walder stated that it was as sound as possible, and more importantly, not something the Lannisters would even think of the Tullys trying. Alyssa grinned at that, and though only Ser Patrek smiled back, her enthusiasm wasn't dampened. After she thanked the two men and dismissed them, she made sure to get her uncle's seal of approval for the plan, before sending riders back into the Riverlands to begin gathering or confiscating under her seal the large number of boats needed to transport the Frey and Mallister men upstream. Once that was done, she instructed her uncle to call a war council in the morning, before heading for her bedroll, since the hour was now quite late, and falling asleep with a satisfied smile.
You may have bested me today she thought, but my next strike you won't see coming.