And here is chapter 13, have to apologize because this one was a bit rushed as I wanted to post it this week because I have some work coming up and I might take some time before the next chaopter.

Disclaimer: Still do not own GOT or ASOIAF

CHAPTER 13- The Snarling Wolf

Jason Mallister could not contain himself, could not stop himself from pacing up and down in his study. Tonight was the night, when so much would change. When he would put risk on his himself, his men and his house.

In the room with him were five other men, the most loyal he had, and they all knew of the plan and would make the necessary arrangements. If all goes well, it should all pass with minimal bloodshed on his side.

He already had the ships docked and ready to sail, now he just had to wait for the men to arrive to sail them. A part of him desperately wished he could travel along with them, while another wished he could bar his doors and keep Robb Stark out.

But he was a loyal and honourable man, he would not keep out the king he had sworn his oaths to. The one current king he still had any respect for. No, they would be ready and they would do their jobs well, it was just a blessing that the Frey men stationed here were about as incompetent as they come.

It was meant to be a mockery of him, some way to cripple his house by having his men replaced and those that remained watched over by weaker Frey men. Yet after tonight, it was those weak men that would unknowingly assist in clearing his name. It was they who would bear the brunt of sacrifice for the greater good.

He finally moved over to the window facing the gates and put his hands on the frame. He almost thought he could see Robb Stark's small army marching towards him, Harbingers of Chaos. Perhaps if he ever did decide to go ahead with his plan for a sell sword army they might choose to adopt that name.

It was night out, and thus that was how he was able to spot the lamp lights moving towards the town. These past few days the most loyal of his men had been wetting or destroying every lamp they could find outside, especially those at the front gate.

It would all work so much better if the army had to move in the cover of darkness. He finally decided it was time to go outside when the lamp lights stopped in front of the gates.

"It is time!" He declared to his men, and as one, they rose and followed him out. They all knew what to do, each of them have a task that would place great importance in this plan. They could not fail, the consequences would be dire.

It was almost exhilarating in some ways, knowing that this was all it amounted to. All the hard work and planning was for this moment, it was here that they got to leave this place and escape the reach of their enemies. They had so many enemies.

Robb tried to relax himself as he walked alongside Olyver Frey and Aldrich Darioin, both of whom were doing no better than he was. He could not blame them, the two men had alienated themselves from their homes, capture or failure here would result in their likely deaths.

Especially because of the letters that Robb had sent out. They would arrive days apart, to hide the fact that they were both sent by him. He wished he could be there to see the reactions to them upon their reading.

"Keep calm, everything will go well." He whispered to the two men as the light of the men at the gates finally reached them.

"Just follow the plan, everything will be alright." He assured them; secretly wishing he himself could be so assured himself.

They had decided to take Lon with them as well, though the man walked beside them it was easy to forget his presence. Lonn had done splendidly not too long ago and had proved that he was more than just a mere scout. The men would have many uses yet and he revelled in the recognition he was receiving from his lord.

The four of them advanced until they were just under the gates, and all four of them lifted their heads to stare into the lights.

"Who goes there?" Called a voice from the walls.

"I am Olyver Frey, son of Lord Walder Frey, I am here to speak with Lord Jason Mallister!" Olyver called back in return, his voice firm and commanding. Though he still sounded like a child trying to appear in control.

"And I am Aldrich Darion, Commander of the Westerlander camp of Wet Hill. I too am to have word with the lord of the castle." Aldrich did better than Olyver, he was more used to command and declarations than the boy was.

"And I am Jacksen Snow, son of Jason Mallister. My father has summoned me and I would have word with him." Lonn in a rather underwhelming voice. But Robb had expected it, in fact he had planned on it. A bastard with a weak voice and lacking command was easier to ignore or forget.

"We weren't told of your coming at all, so why would we let you come in here at night?" The voice above the gates called down again.

"Because we bring back with us bandits and two hundred of your own men." Olyver called back in reply, and made a show of gesturing towards Robb and his bound hands.

If the men up there looked behind the group of four, they would see the outlines of people lurking in the darkness. What they could not know or see was that the men behind numbered two thousand. And they were going to let them all in.

"Where are the other bandits? Why do we only see one?" Called down another voicer from the left side of the gates.

"Well forgive us, but we did not think that you would need to see each and every one of the men in order to believe us. You all surely know that two hundred of your numbers had set off before to capture the bandits don't you?" Olyver called back up again. It was necessary that he do the talking, those were Frey men up on those walls after all.

Robb had instructed Lord Mallister to station only the Frey men as garrison, it would give them something to pride themselves in and cloud their judgement.

It also meant that it would not have to be men loyal to the Mallisters that were about to be slaughtered by Robb and his army.

"I'm not so sure that we can or should allow you in, why would you arrive now at night instead of getting here in the morning or daylight?" Called the voice from the right again.

Robb rolled his eyes, the whole exchange was proving to be a rather dull and boring affair. He did not want the bloodshed, but he was looking forward to starting on it because then they could be off and away from this place before it was too late.

Walder Frey no doubt was after them now, they could not afford for word to reach these men before Robb's escape.

"Because we were attacked, Bolton men were assisting the bandits. Damn Northerners have been profiting from the plights of the Riverlands!" Olyver spat in disgust, and Robb could hear murmurs from atop the battlements even from down here.

"Aye, but we are still a little hesitant to allow you in. See, it's only us Frey men up here and we can't just allow anyone to come in and out whenever they want." The voice called down again, followed by muffled laughter from the other men.

"That is why I am here isn't it? I was sent here by my father and I have brought my own men with me. Will you keep us out here? After we captured bandits with the combined work of Frey, Seagard and Wet Hill forces? Do not ruin this moment men, allow us and the bastard of Jason Mallister in." Olyver was growing tired of the whole charade as well, Robb could hear it in his voice.

From where they were Robb heard new sounds arrive at the walls, the shuffling of multiple feet and then a booming voice shouting above all others:

"WHAT ARE YOU DOJNG YOU IDIOTS? THAT IS THE SON OF THE LORD OF SEAGARD, WILL YOU LET THE LIEGE LORD WAIT ANY LONGER?!" Robb smiled at that voice, but was able to lower his head down to hide the smirk.

Perfect timing this was, for surely even the calm and composed Aldrich Darion was tired of the exchange.

They didn't hear much else besides muffled voice and the shuffling of feet, and then the gates slowly swung open.

Robb held his breath anxiously as the creaking gates seemed to move at an alarmingly slow pace. Beyond stood ten men with sword in one hand and shield the other. Robb also knew that there were men up there with arrows and crossbow bolts aimed right at the four of them.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Come in here, but I want all weapons sheathed!" The man at the head of the ten called, his voice easily recognizable as one belonging to the man they had been shouting to before.

The four of them moved cautiously and slowly, secretly slowing their pace so the company behind could move faster to close the gap without having to run. The Seagard men he had brought with him were the next to enter, they all walked on foot and dragged fifty men with them.

The Frey men did not question the whereabouts of the men's horses, they merely allowed them in. once they all entered, they immediately moved to the sides of the gates, leaving the ten Frey soldiers wide open.

"Well, what in the name of the Seven are you doing over there?" The leader demanded, and Robb had to stifle a laugh as he answered the man jubilantly.

"We do not want to be trampled." He answered with a voice full of mirth.

Confusion swept through the ten men, then turned to horror at the sound and sight that they finally registered.

Horses, a horde of horses, galloping straight for the opened gates.

"CLOSE THEM! CLOSE THE GATES NOW!" The leader bellowed furiously at his men, but it was too late.

The Seagard men on the ground easily drew their blades and dispatched of the men that had moved to close the gates. It was quick and bloody, and only took a few seconds.

"TRAITORS! THEY ARE TRAITORS! LOSOSE, LET LOOSE YOUR ARROWS!" The panicked leader bellowed again, this time to the men at the walls.

However:

The sounds of a struggle began immediately, as did the shouts of men, drifting down and washing over them with the chill air of the night.

The Seagard men that had arrived before were now slaughtering the Freys stationed at the walls. There weren't enough of them to kill all the Frey men, but enough to distract them.

The galloping horses broke through the opened gates like a river of muscles and death, every single one of the mounted men wearing full armour.

"Yaaaaa…"

"Yiiieeeeee…"

"Ahhhhh.."

"Noooooo…."

Those were the screams coming from the ten Frey soldiers as they were brutally trampled by a stampede of horses that raced right past them and continued forward into the town.

"My Lord, please follow me!" Called a man as he beckoned them over.

Robb, Aldrich, Olyver and Lonn did not hesitate to follow him.

The Seagard men and new arrivals on foot followed behind as they all ran after the middle aged man that had beckoned them.

"Lord Mallister has bid me to travel with you Your Majesty, I will lead you to the ships." The man informed Robb between puffs of air as he continued his sprint.

Soon, more screams and the general sounds of skirmishes could be heard through the night as the cavalry rampaged through the town. They were to harm and destroy as much as they could, most of the people still outside were Frey men anyhow and the destroyed property could be rebuilt at a later time.

Robb had organized for half the money they had made selling and looting to be transferred to Jason Mallister. He hoped it would be enough to at least lighten the load of the expenses all the damage would cost to fix.

Their guide lead them in paths that would best avoid conflict, though they still ran into a few men here and there but they were rather easy to dispatch when facing Robb's one thousand-seven hundred-and eighty foot soldiers. The mounted men were doing a splendid job causing chaos and forcing the vast attention of the defenders to fall on them and thus away from Robb's group.

The bell was yet to ring, how could it when enemy ships were yet to be sighted and this attack must have been too much of a surprise? As it was, Jason Mallister assumed that all was going according to plan and Robb Stark would soon arrive with his men.

As it was, the Lord of Seagard stood at the docks with a force of a hundred men, most of whom were Frey soldiers. It was here that they were meant to make a 'last stand' though he himself knew it would not be much of a stand.

This was for show, and he was determined to put up a good one. His very soul felt stained by what was already transpiring and what would come next, but necessary sacrifices had to be made for a better future and for the rightful king.

As it was, he had done his best to limit the deaths if his own men by sending most of his men out of town on errands and having some of those who remained stationed in places that would put them outside the reach of the conflicts.

In their positions he had placed Frey men, something they had delighted in, believing that they had enough control of the castle and town to take up the more important guard positions. Surely now they must realize that they had been badly mistaken, they were nothing more than props for this performance.

He could hear the sounds of running men now, the stamping boots of a company of armoured men running towards him. He knew that the men here with him would most likely be killed or suffer serious injuries at least, and he himself as well.

Robb Stark had been firm in his word that the Lord of Seagard himself would not be killed, to do so might lead to far too many complications. It was thus dangerous for him to be here right now, but he had to play the role as well. And no one would believe it if Jason Mallister stayed in hiding behind closed doors while a company of two thousand rampaged through his town.

He saw the men appear behind a bend and come charging towards them. He could not see the horsemen yet, but the plan had been that they would move at a different route so as to draw the attention away from the infantry men.

The hundred men around the Lord of Seagard drew their swords and shield and braced themselves. They formed a rather weak shield wall, but it was enough to cover the whole causeway. But there were merely one hundred of them against nearly two thousand, it was hopeless.

Jason Mallister moved back, away from the men and his heart ached. It was best that he think of this plan as just another strategy in war, a tactic similar to what Robb Stark had deployed against Tywin and Jaime Lannister.

It did not end up much of a fight, the mixed company smashed into the wall like an avalanche of violence, the behind the first line merely pushed those ahead harder when it looked as though they might be stopped. Swords were drawn and shields clashed against shield as the shield wall struggled fruitlessly to hold their line but slowly they were pushed back and more of their men died for each one they killed.

The situation was finally resolved when the thunderous sounds of hooves against cobbled stones finally reached their ears, and in the face of the oncoming cavalry, the defenders lost their resolve. When the first few men abandoned the line and jumped into the waters, the wall broke and those remaining soon joined their comrades in the water.

Those that remained were slain where they stood.

There was a brief calm, a brief moment of quiet before Robb Stark emerged from the front lines, his bright sword coated in blood as was his grey armour. A silver dire wolf head, maw open in a nasty snarl and the eyes painted red, was carved onto the breastplate of his grey armour.

He had trimmed his beard since Jason last saw him and it neatly hugged his face instead of hiding it. His untamed mop of hair had been groomed and now flowed in loose locks behind his head and down the sides. He was still not completely the Robb Stark he once was, but he certainly did not look like the leader of wild bandits anymore.

"My lord, please step aside, there is no need for you to die here too." Robb Stark called out to him as lord Mallister levelled his sword at the man.

The rest of the company rushed past them towards the ships, but the two lords stayed staring each other down.

"I cannot stop all your men, but I can stop you. I will trade your for my son, the Lannisters will return him to me if I give them you; Robb Stark." Jason Mallister could hear gasps from his men in the ground and those whose heads peaked out of the water.

The secret was out, just as planned. Everything was going so well according to plan that a part of him was afraid. Powerful forces had gathered behind Robb Stark, it was dangerous that he now planned to leave Westeros. But surely the Old Gods have power even in Essos?

"I am sorry my lord, I would like nothing more than to free your son but alas, I best be going now." With that final proclamation, Robb Stark darted forward like a wraith of grey, silver and red. It was no coincidence that he only moved forward after his men had all passed and the defenders had begun to show up in large numbers.

This little fight of theirs had not been planned, but Jason Mallister knew that it has to be a convincing act. However, as the king engaged him, he suddenly realized that he would have to do all he could just to stay alive.

The man opposite him moved like a wild beast, his swords strokes were almost too random and too uncoordinated; as though in untamed mockery of the sword forms everyone else was so used to. The silver sword clashed against his, each time making his arms tingle from the impact. With each swing the Lord of Seagard was pushed back and more than once came close to losing his footing and his head.

He could tell that his opponent was still holding back, each time he slipped through for a kill shot he would restrain himself. But he had done enough already, lord Mallister was covered in cuts and blood while the pain was starting to slow him.

They had only been duelling for a few minutes, yet it felt like hours. The defenders had yet to reach them but the company of two thousand had boarded the ships. That's when Robb Stark's expression changed to that of immense gratitude and apology. Jason Mallister knew what would come now, and he tried his best to show his acceptance of it.

The Young Wolf suddenly increased his pace and strength, and his swings became inch perfect feints. It was as though the man was not feinting at all, but rather changed forms mid strike. It was absurd. Yet effective.

It couldn't have been more than an exchange of only three strikes before Robb's blade pierced his chest. There was no pain at first, only the numbing of his body as he slipped off his feet and his legs gave out.

The deposed King in the North looked down at him with regret, apology and self-loathing. The Lord of Seagard wanted to tell him that it was alright, that this was how it was meant to be, but the words would not leave his lips. With a small nod that only he could have seen, Robb Stark turned and sprinted towards the departing ships and out of Jason Mallister's view.

It didn't matter anyway, the world around him was beginning to dim and his ears were ringing. If this was his death, at least he died a loyal man serving his king and kingdom.

Seagard grew smaller and smaller in the distance as the men sailed away, no ships left to pursue them. Never before had Robb ever imagined himself traversing this far out on a ship, and a part of hi yearned to go back and face whatever dangers he could. As long as he wasn't too far from home.

Olyver Frey, Aldrich Darion and Dwain Mallery; the man who had let them in and had been appointed leader of the Seagard men they now travelled with. The three men stood not far behind Robb, all of them alternating their eyes between the land they had come from and Robb himself.

He knew that he was not inspiring much confidence in himself at the moment, but he could not bring himself to care. His hands were still stained by the blood of the men he had slain and the blood of Jason Mallister himself.

Robb had waited until the men chasing them were close enough before he stabbed the lord of Seagard. He had done his best to make sure that he did not hit any internal organs, but how could he be so sure that he hadn't?

And so, he was left to pray and plead to the old gods that the men had been quick enough to get their lord to a healer before it was too late. None of this was worth anything if he had to start murdering the lords most loyal to him just for the 'greater good'. He would not repeat the mistake he had made with the Karstarks.

He looked down at the breastplate he wore, where the direwolf of the Starks snarled out at the sea. He and his men had retained whatever cart they captured in the roads and used it to transport what they sold at Free Market. They always kept ten suits of armour and swords whenever they came into their possession while selling off those they did not need. Of course, they only started doing this after everyone had a suit of their own.

Since the last time, they had paid the armourers at the Market to meld others together to create something big enough for Gulf. They had also either paid or promised discount on the armoury they sold if the smiths could paint their armour grey and silver for them.

Robb's was the only one with such a large wolf head, the others also had it but theirs was only over the left shoulder or right. They had been reluctant to start calling themselves Stark men at first, until Robb reminded them that there would be a lot of money to be made at war and as king he would reward them handsomely.

Though he knew that deep down, each of his bandits would remain loyal to him no matter what. The proof of that was the way in which they carried themselves, their pride and integrity. He had given them something they did not have before, and for that they would stick by his side until the end.

The open maws of the snarling wolf on his chest were covered in blood, the blood of the men he had slain in order to get himself and his men on these ships. The wolf would taste more blood yet in the time to come, Robb just hoped that it would only begin once they got backlot Westeros and not at Essos.

Surely Daenerys Stormborn was nothing like her father and would understand the need for this partnership?

And there is that, yet another one of Robb's plans working to near perfection because of 'divine' interference.

Hope you enjoyed!