Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Game of Thrones characters in the story or from the novel, A Song of Ice and Fire. Only the OCs included are mine and any original plots.
Chapter 6: Cold Winds Rising
A force of twelve thousand men had departed from the walls of Winterfell. That number had risen to eighteen thousand on their way South through the Moat which was still under the process of reconstruction. Brynden had been pleased to see that five of the nine towers and the main keep of Moat Cailin had already been built up along with the great basalt curtain wall. Soon, the ancient stronghold would once again be hailed as the fearsome Crown of Winter it had once been.
Once they emerged from the Neck and onto the fertile plains of the Riverlands, the Northern host continued traveling for a day before finally making camp on the bank of a river. Tents had sprouted up everywhere, with the largest one serving as the venue for the War Council.
Brynden found himself standing inside the tent next to Robb. Theon stood on Robb's left while the Northern Lords, both the ones he had met in Winterfell and the ones who had joined the host in Moat Cailin, were fanned out all around them. A map of Westeros was spread out over a table with little pawns carved to represent each of the armies. Wolf heads for the Northern Army, lion heads for the Lannisters and a fish to represent the Tullys of Riverrun.
"The Riverlords are falling back with Jaime Lannister at their heels." Robb began, bringing a lion head to where the Kingslayer was marching on and slamming it down. "And Lord Tywin is bringing around a second Lannister army from the South. Our scouts have confirmed that it's even larger than the Kingslayer's." The eldest son of Eddard and Catelyn Stark reached out and grabbed another lion head, bringing it to the point Tywin Lannister had reached.
"One army or two, the old Kings in the North threw back hosts ten times this large." The Greatjon bellowed boastfully.
"Strength in numbers is not what decides victory or defeat, Lord Umber. My Lord Father taught me that tactics and strategies were what won wars, not a few extra men." Brynden finally spoke up, his eyes trained on the map of Westeros. It was a smart strategy, he noted, for the Lannister Lord to command an army to take on the North's, while his son slowly but surely took hold of the Riverlands.
His thought process was interrupted when a figure entered the tent. A wide grin broke Brynden's features as he spotted the familiar auburn hair of Catelyn Stark.
"Mother!" Robb exclaimed, his eyes widening in disbelief. Catelyn just looked back at both her sons for a long moment, seemingly unable to express her emotions in words.
"Lady Stark. You're a welcome sight in these troubled times." The Greatjon sighed remorsefully with a nod of respect to her.
"We had not thought to meet you here, My Lady." Theon added.
Catelyn glanced at the Greyjoy before speaking. "I had not thought to be here." Her blue eyes which she shared with both her eldest sons drifted over to the others in the tent. "I would like to speak with my sons alone, My Lords. I know you will forgive me."
"Of course, My Lady." The Greatjon said in the gentlest voice Brynden had ever heard from him before scowling and turning to look at the other Lords. "You heard her! Move your arses! Come on, out!" Brynden sniggered as he watched the Northmen quickly shuffle out of the tent. The snigger turned into a full-blown laugh when the Greatjon roughly shoved Theon out as well.
The Umber Lord turned to Catelyn with a large grin. "Have no fear, My Lady! We'll shove our swords up Tywin Lannister's bunghole and then it's on to the Red Keep to free Ned."
With a final bow, the Greatjon departed with Ser Rodrik who had accompanied their mother. As soon as the men left, Catelyn rushed forwards and pulled both her sons into a crushing embrace. After a while, she pulled away but still kept a hand on each of her sons' arms as if she was afraid they would disappear if she let go.
"I remember the day when both of you came into this world, red-faced and squalling. And now I find you both leading a host to war."
Robb pressed his lips together. "There was no one else."
Catelyn raised an eyebrow, her hands falling to her side. "No one else? Who were those men I saw here?"
"None of them are Starks." Brynden cut in. "They may be seasoned commanders but none of them carry the blood of the Direwolf. The Lannisters forced our hand, mother. They started this conflict but we will end it. We will rescue father and the girls and if you mean to send us back to Winterfell..."
Catelyn sighed, cutting him off. "Oh, believe me when I say I would if I could."
Robb stepped back from their mother and plucked a scroll that lay on the table. "There was a letter. From Sansa."
Catelyn scoffed. "From the Queen you mean." She corrected her son, taking the letter in her hands. She spread it open and sat down on a stool beside the table. After a while, she looked up, glancing between her sons. "There is no mention of Arya."
"No, there isn't." Brynden muttered darkly.
Catelyn sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly before placing the letter back on the table and looking at Robb. "How many men do you have?"
"Eighteen thousand." Robb replied as he and Brynden sat down on either side of their mother. "If I go to King's Landing and bend my knee to Joffrey..."
Brynden's face twisted in anger at his elder brother's words but Catelyn placed a hand on his to calm him. "If you go to King's Landing, you will never be allowed to leave. Our best, no, our only hope is that you can defeat them in the field."
Robb's expression faltered. "And if we fail?"
The matriarch of House Stark glanced between Robb and Brynden, her Tully blue eyes hard, desperation and fear burning within them. "Do you know what happened to the Targaryen children when the Mad King fell?"
It was hard to forget. Brynden had heard many tales about Robert's Rebellion over the years. His father never talked much about it but others were more than willing.
"They were slain in their beds alongside their mother, Elia Martell." Brynden answered his mother's question.
Catelyn looked at him and nodded. "On the orders of Tywin Lannister. And the years have not made him kinder." She leaned closer towards her sons and spoke with a more stressed tone of voice. "If you lose, your father dies, your sisters die and we die."
Robb pursed his lips before exhaling. "Well, that makes it simple then."
Catelyn sighed. "I suppose it does."
"Seven Hells mother, you really know how to motivate a man!" Brynden barked with a wolfish laugh. Catelyn couldnt help but smile at his words while Robb chuckled.
Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West strode through his camp, flanked by ten loyal Lannister soldiers, nodding silently as he was greeted with bows and words of 'My Lord.' He entered his private tent, leaving his men at the door. Inside, his younger brother was standing next to his desk, waiting for him.
"What news, Kevan?" Tywin asked, walking around his desk and lowering himself down into his seat.
"Our scouts report having seen Tyrion leaving the Vale with a band of mountain savages. He was last seen heading in this direction." Kevan informed.
Tywin hummed somewhat uncaring. "Any news of Jaime?"
"He is besieging Riverrun as we speak and will soon have the entire Riverlands under his control."
"Good." Tywin responded with a firm nod. Before he could say anything in response, Tyrion Lannister waddled through the tent flap with savage looking barbarians on his tail. Kevan instantly put his hand on the grip of his sword, moving infront of Tywin.
"Uncle." Tyrion greeted Kevan with a jovial grin before his gaze drifted over to the Old Lion. "Father."
"The rumors of your demise were unfounded." Tywin said gruffly, casting his youngest son the briefest of glances.
"Sorry to disappoint you." The dwarf replied smoothly. He sat down on a chair opposite of his father and waved to the barbarians behind him. "Ah, these are my lovely companions. This is Shagga, son of Dolf, the chieftain of the Stone Crows. Timett, son of Timett, ruler of the Burned Men. This fair maid is Chella, daughter of Cheyk, leader of the Black Ears. And here we have Bronn, son of..."
The large sellsword grinned toothily. "You wouldn't know him."
Tyrion shrugged then turned to the barbarians. "May I present my father, Tywin, son of Tytos of House Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West." Finally done with the introductions, he reached for the jug of wine on his father's desk. "Kind of you to go to war for me."
"You left us no choice." Tywin seethed, moving the jug out of his youngest son's reach. "The honour of our House was at stake. Your brother would never have submitted to capture so meekly."
"We have our differences, Jaime and I; he is braver, I am better looking." Tyrion mocked.
"He's been covering himself in glory." Tywin remarked.
Tyrion rolled his eyes as his uncle proudly boasted how Jaime had won a significant battle at the Golden Tooth against the Riverlords and was now banging on the gates of Riverrun.
"What of the Starks? Lord Eddard?" The dwarf questioned once his uncle was done.
"He is our hostage. He will be leading no armies from his dungeon cell." Tywin asserted.
Tyrion chuckled. "And how did my sweet sister persuade the King to imprison his dear friend Ned?"
"Robert Baratheon is dead. Joffrey rules in King's Landing." Tywin revealed with a hint of satisfaction.
"Cersei rules, you mean." The dwarf muttered, clearly stunned by the new information.
"Stark's eldest son has called his banners." Kevan informed Tyrion. "He and his brother move South with a strong host at their back."
"Green boys." Tywin scoffed. "One taste of battle and they'll run back to Winterfell with their tails between their legs."
"Maybe." Tyrion muttered, unconvinced. "Though the eldest son does have a certain belligerence to him." He looked up at his father. "You'd like him. Also while we are on the subject of war, I made a promise to my friends here and a Lannister always pays his debts. We shall require three thousand helms and shields, plus swords, pikes, gorgets and maces..."
Suddenly, a scout burst into the tent and promptly fell to his knee, breathing heavily. "My Lord Tywin. Ser Addam has bid me to report that the Northmen have crossed the Neck."
The Lord of Casterly Rock twisted into something ferocious. "The wolf rushes into the lion's jaws. So be it. Kevan, command the drummers to beat assembly and send word to Jaime that I am moving against Robb Stark."
"At once, My Lord." Kevan bowed before taking his leave. Once he was gone, Tywin rose to his feet and walked over to the mountain clansmen.
"It is said that the men of the Mountain Clans are great warriors. Ride with me against my enemies and you shall have all that my son promised you and more."
"Only if the half man fights with us." Shagga spat gruffly. "Until we hold the steel that he pledged us, the little lion's life is ours."
Tywin tilted his head before glancing at his youngest son who looked absolutely terrified at the prospect of fighting.
A few hours later, the Northern Lords had all reconvened in the large tent. This time, however, Catelyn Stark and Ser Rodrik Cassel had joined them.
Brynden was staring at the map of Westeros in silence; he had been doing so for some time now. While the Lords around him argued about their battle plans, he was devising one in his head. His blue eyes darted between the wolf and lion heads, his mind going over every tactic he had been taught.
"The scouts report Lord Tywin moves North." Ser Rodrik began, as he placed a meaty finger on the map. "We need to get him on broken ground and put his knights at a disadvantage." The Northern Lords were quick to disagree with the old knight as was Brynden, who shook his head softly, his stare never breaking away from the map.
"What we need to do is get around the old cunt and break Jaime Lannister's siege on Riverrun. Do that and the Riverlords will flock to our cause." The Greatjon's voice boomed throughout the tent.
"To do that, we need to cross the river and the only crossing is at the Twins." Robb replied, his Tully blue eyes flitting from one Lord to the other before they finally landed on his mother. "Lord Frey controls that bridge. He is grandfather's bannerman, is he not, Mother?"
Catelyn Stark's brow furrowed as she made a face of disgust. "'The late Lord Frey' my father calls him. At the Trident, he didn't appear until the battle was done. Some men take their oaths more seriously than others."
"So what's it going to be?" The Greatjon questioned loudly. He did everything loudly. "Do we move against Jaime or Lord Tywin?"
"We move against them both." Brynden suddenly spoke, bringing all eyes onto him. He looked up from the map and stared at Robb. "Tywin Lannister has split his army in two. His strategy is to destroy us while his son takes control over the Riverlands. I say we use his own tactic against him."
"What's your plan, brother?" Robb asked as he leaned forwards in interest.
"We divide our host as well." Brynden began to explain, his voice firm and oozing with confidence. This was what he had been taught to do. Warfare had always been his strength and now it was time for him to put all the lessons he had learnt to good use. "One army will consist mostly of our cavalry and the other will consist of the foot. The horsemen will be tasked with riding against the Kingslayer. The host of footmen will march down the Kingsroad to engage Tywin Lannister. Their job will be to hold the old cunt and keep him from rushing to the aid of his son."
As soon as he was done speaking, his eyes flitted across the room, taking note of the Northern Lords' reactions. His elder brother placed his hands flat on the table, staring intently at the map and contemplating the plan. When Brynden's gaze fell on his mother, he found her staring right at him. A small smile rested on her face and her Tully blue eyes glowed with pride. Brynden smiled at her before his attention was grabbed by Ser Rodrik.
"It could work..." The Master at Arms of Winterfell mumbled, his brow furrowing in thought.
"What if Lord Tywin suspects a feint?" Master Galbart Glover voiced in question.
"It wouldn't matter." Brynden replied, staring at the Master of Deepwood Motte. "As long as there is a host on the Kingsroad, he cannot simply abandon his post. If he does, that would leave King's Landing ripe for the taking."
"You're a bloody genius, boy!" Lord Rickard Karstark barked out with a laugh, slapping Brynden on the back. "So who's going to command which host?"
"I will lead the cavalry." Robb announced firmly. The Lords and Brynden nodded their assent but the eldest Stark son wasn't done. He set his sight on his younger brother. "Brynden, I want you to command the host of footmen."
The second son of Eddard and Catelyn Stark was not pleased with Robb's verdict. He had wanted to fight his first battle by his brother's side. But regardless of his feelings, he couldn't disobey a direct order from Robb in front of the bannermen or else they'd consider him weak. Thus, he simply nodded his assent.
Author's Note: I don't know why but something about this chapter seems a little off to me. I hope I've done Brynden's character justice though and gave him his own chances to shine.
Next chapter! The Wolves make their move against the Lions! Until next time!
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Until next time!