NOTE - I know the chapters have been coming pretty thick and fast lately, but now that we get into exam season the flow will slacken off. I won't forget to write, but the chapters will be fewer and further between for a few weeks. Enjoy.
Brynden
He could here the preparations for the siege, men rushing about, gates being braced with anything heavy but portable. Riverrun was protected on all three sides by river, the Freys would have to risk a tricky amphibious assault to have nay chance of taking the castle before Robb's army arrived. Right, he'd had enough of this fucking bed. Pulling back his sheets, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He levered himself up to his feet, but his head swam with the effort and he fell back on his arse. Then he saw the girl.
"Arya, give me a hand, will you?"
"Mother said you weren't to get up and fight."
"I bet she also said that you weren't to fight either." She nodded. "Well, this is my home, I grew up here, and I'm going to fight for it, and so are you. You help me get ready now girl."
She rushed to obey him, bringing a tunic and breeches. He needed her help to get the shirt over his head, but luckily for her he managed the breeches on his own. She pulled on and tied his boots before helping him up. With her help, he managed to stand and not fall down again, though the effort was exhausting. Half an hour later, they emerged. Him in his mail, with sword and dirk strapped to his belt, her in what leather squire's armour could be found. He grabbed a passing man-at-arms, "Where is Lord Edmure?"
"On the north wall my lord. They're coming over the Tumblestone."
"Good, the current will push them downstream. Bring me my shield and helm."
The man ran off to follow his orders, and with Arya's help, he made for the north wall. As he climbed the steps, his nephew accosted him.
"Uncle, get down! You are in no fit shape to fight."
"Try and stop me." He glared at Edmure, "You may be Lord Tully, but I will fight when I want to. That clear boy?"
"But your wounds, the Mountain.."
"Clegane wasn't as good as I expected. He only landed three good blows, all of which are none of your concern. Now get out of my way and let me see the bastards."
He leaned heavily on the battlements as he looked out over the Tumblestone. There, a large Frey camp had been laid out, and troops were beginning to board large transport boats. Not just Freys though, there were other banners there. Haigh, Erenford, Charlton, those were Frey sworn houses, but there were others, Darry, Ryger, Goodbrook and Mooton. Cowards. Then it struck him, these were the houses that had remained true to the Targaryens in the Rebellion. How Walder Frey had gained the allegiance of Targaryen loyalists, he did not know, but it worried him.
Immediately, he was in his element, "Bring up crossbows, hit them while they cross, they'll be too busy rowing to defend themselves."
"Errr, yes straight away." Edmure looked a little uncomfortable at having his command usurped, but knew when he was relieved. "You have the wall uncle, I shall command the western tower."
"Actually, my lord, I need you here. As you may have noticed, I'm not at full fighting fitness. I will need your help." He knew this would soothe his nephew's sensitivities, even if he did have to put up with him sticking around.
"How far away are Robb's forces?"
"At last report, three days march."
"Good, so we don't have to hold out long." He pulled himself aside as a file of crossbowmen rushed to take their places along the walls. Turning to Arya, "Girl, go and get me two crossbows and as many bolts as you can carry."
As she scuttled off, Edmure turned to him, "Uncle, Cat will not like you using her daughter as a squire."
"What's she going to do about it? The girl has seen more of war than most boys her age, and proved a damn sight better at it too. If she wants to fight, let her. Plus, as much as I may not like to admit it, I needed help getting up those stairs."
"Fine, but you'll answer to Catelyn if she dies."
"I'll answer to Catelyn if she lives."
Not long after Arya had returned with the crossbows, the attack began. As he had predicted, the boats were crammed full, so missing the targets would be difficult.
"Right lass, while I fire this one, you load that one, and then we swap." Having given the instruction, he turned to the rank of crossbowmen. "On my order! Pick targets! Fire!"
His bolt took one of the soldiers in the shoulder, but the weapon's kick hurt his shoulder. As he winced, he saw Edmure and the others reloading, "Fire at will lads! Hit one of Lord Frey's spawn and I'll give you a stag!" He held out his hand and Arya passed him the other crossbow, beginning to reload already.
One of his men shouted back "They're all knights, my lord. Surely they're worth a dragon."
He laughed, "If you can find a Frey worthy of being a knight, I'll give you a dragon." He leaned out from behind the battlement and fired, taking another man in the eye.
They got several more volleys off before the boats began to land. "Crossbows to the towers! Swords to the front!" This was what he was born for, this was his place. Standing against the tide. Brynden Tully found himself standing upright, unsupported and he drew his sword.
"Here the fuckers come! These honourless bastards think they can just come in without an invitation! I would promise you money, but I don't have any. I would promise you glory, but there's no glory in fighting worms. What I will promise you is a damn good fight, and the satisfaction of watching them run away with their trousers stained with their own shit!"
He grabbed hold of the first ladder and pushed with all his might, another two men joined him, and they tipped it back into the river. All along the wall the Tullymen did the same, but there were too many and before long the Freys made the wall. He cut down the first man before him, though it took a lot more effort than it should. Looking up, he saw Edmure dealing with two men at once. He watched his nephew kick one man off the wall into the courtyard, heard the man's scream stifled by his impact with the hard stone, by the time he looked back, Edmure's other opponent was desperately trying to hold in his guts as they fell from his opened stomach. Whatever else he thought of the new Lord Tully, it could not be denied that he was a stout sword.
The second man was even harder to kill than the first. By the fifth, he had reopened the cuts on his ribs and arms through his exertions. Ten men later, he was ready to drop. Then he saw him. Hosteen Frey climbed the ladder and charged. Despite his reputation as a sword master and his Crakehall bulk, inherited from his mother, he was thick, and would normally have presented no problem. Now though, Brynden knew he would not survive the encounter. Nevertheless , he raised his sword and met Hosteen's blade. The impact pushed him back and he gritted his teeth against the pain.
"Come on old man, you're supposed to be good at this." The big knight sneered, his weasel face cracking apart to reveal yellowed teeth. He swung his blade in again, and Brynden barely caught it on his. Again, he was driven back, his balance gone, he collapsed against the battlements, just blocking Hosteen's overhead swing.
"The great Brynden Tully, brought low by a mere Frey. I can hear them now, Hosteen the Trout-slayer." As he raised his sword above his head for the final blow, he sneered again.
When the bolt emerged from his chest, his smile fell, "But what...?" He managed to sputter before he fell forwards, over the battlements. The dull splash announced Ser Hosteen's impact with the river below.
"Does that make me Arya Shit-slayer?" The girl stood there, crossbow still pointed at where Ser Hosteen had stood. She helped him up, and as he took in the sight of the fleeing Freys, she asked, "Why have they given up?"
He wheeled to face the south, and sure enough, he could see the banners flying as the army crested the hill. Stark, Bracken, Blackwood, Mallister, Umber, Tallhart, Glover, Mormont, Smallwood. Robb.
"Open the gates! Lord Stark is here! Open the gates!" his nephew was bellowing. Then Edmure turned to him, "I'll mount up the cavalry and lead the sally, we must do as much damage as possible as they run. The northerners are already amongst them."
He nodded, and Edmure ran off, calling for his horse. He saw the horsemen and heard the horns, but it all seemed surreal. Leaning heavily on Arya, he made his way down to the main courtyard.
"Arya there you are! What were you doing? You'll get yourself killed!" Catelyn Stark scalded her daughter.
"Lay off the girl Cat, she saved my life." He managed to say. He needed to sleep, he was aching all over. He could feel his wounds reopened and his legs burned with agony. He had done his duty, kept his honour, protected his family. Not bothering to wait for Robb's arrival, he made his way back up to his chamber, leaning heavily on a spear. He lay back on his bed and thought of Bethany.
As he wandered into sleep, he saw Hoster as a young man, begging his brother for forgiveness. You stubborn bastard, I forgive you. I always did, I just wouldn't say it.
His peace made, he slept more soundly than he had for forty years.
