Robb's army was strong, but without siege engines investing the Rock would serve no purpose but to waste time. So he had unleashed his men. The Greatjon had taken Null's Deep, Castamere and the silver mines and Pendric Hills; Maege Mormont and her riders were seizing all the livestock and grain and barley she could find and was storing it in Ashemark. He had taken the seat of House Marbrand first, a strong keep to serve as his Harrenhal in Tywin Lannister's land. When they returned they would bring these supplies with them. Lord Glover and Karstark were ravaging the coast, he had told them to light fires in the Lannister villages that would keep the residence of Casterly Rock awake through the night. While they were ravaging the Westerlands countryside, Robb himself would set about the task of taking the castles of Lord Tywin's bannermen. A man like Tywin Lannister, who ruled by fear, had to come and protect the lands of his bannermen or they could revolt against him inside his own army.
It felt good. He had sat silent at Riverrun for two months, hearing about Tywin Lannister burning his new lands, goading him to battle. Now it was his turn, and he would waste no time. His remaining host, three and a half thousand riders, were now riding south, towards Sarsfield. It sat between Casterly Rock and the Golden Tooth. A small force there would be able to watch over both, and send a raven to his foothold at Ashemark to tell him when Lord Tywin had crossed the tooth, letting him regather his men. He wouldn't risk his horse in a battle with Tywin Lannister. Brynden's scouts had discovered a number of locations where he could mount a defence and make Tywin Lannister pay a heavy price for attacking him. But he would also lose men. Instead, he would harry Tywin every step of the way, bleeding him from a thousand wounds before retreating back across the goat track to the Trident. He didn't need to utterly destroy Tywin Lannister, tempting as that was. He would let the Baratheons fall upon Lord Tywin's children and grandchildren, rob him of all six in a single stroke.
The ride to Sarsfield had been uninterrupted. A small town called Merchant's Rest offered his host all their treasure in return for not being sacked. Black Walder Frey had wanted to sack it anyway, but Robb forbade him. "They are giving us all they have of value," he reminded his soon to be relative, he didn't even know by what degree they would be related. He was Ser Stevron's grandson, he thought, yet still would be older than Robb's queen, who would be Black Walder's grandsire's sister. "There is no need to waste effort in burning the town as well."
He sent some men to deliver the gold back to Ashemark, not wanting to be laden down with treasure longer than he had to be.
Sarsfield still flew the lion of Lannister and the green arrow of House Sarsfield from it's towers. As his host set to camp that night, he ordered that a messenger be sent to the castle, telling them to surrender and they would all be spared, if not then he would take the castle by storm. As he suspected, they held firm and refused. So that night, he gathered his men to him. "Ser Walder," he said. "You will hold your men here in your camp and, at the crack of dawn, you will scale the north-western tower."
"Gladly," Black Walder replied, his temper which earned him his name seemingly held down for now.
"What of us, Your Grace?" The Smalljon asked him.
"When the sun sets," Robb said to him and the others, "we will ride silently around the castle to the southern side. Grey Wind will remain here and howl in the night, that should reassure them that we are here. When dawn comes they will look to their northern wall, and we will sweep in from the south and scale those walls."
They all nodded. "Your Grace," the Smalljon bowed. "Allow me the honour of leading our van."
Robb nodded, he had asked first, and the Karstarks had led the van at Oxcross. His father had told him to rotate the positions of honour amongst his bannermen, that none felt left out. He would do so. "Very well then," he said. "You will lead us against the south as Ser Walder leads his men on the north. Tomorrow evening we feast in Sarsfield."
When the sun had set, Robb sent Grey Wind off hunting for now, he would howl when he returned. He had learned to trust Grey Wind knew his command as well as any man. Meanwhile he led his men around to the west, the wind was blowing from east to west, so any noise they or their horses made would get carried out towards the Sunset Sea, not towards the garrison. They also camped far enough south that they would likely not get noticed by an overcautious guard in the castle. He set his men to get as much rest as they could, with several men ready to wake them just before dawn so they could strike before the enemy was even aware.
He was shaken awake by Olyvar himself, who strapped his armour to him and passed him his sword. He rushed to his horse. His men in the south had left their tents to the north so the garrison would think to see them all there, so they all mounted their horses and retreated out of sight of the castle. They were ready to strike against the castle as soon as they heard the trumpets of Black Walder's assault.
Smalljon Umber and his men advanced with the ladders on foot and quiet, hiding in the shadow of the wall. Unless a member of the garrison was to look over the edge of the castle and directly down, they would be hidden, and Black Walder sounding his trumpets made sure that didn"t happen.
When he heard the trumpets, Robb sent some scouts forward to check to see if the Smalljon had set up the ladders yet. When he announced that he had he, led his men in a fast gallop to the castle. No warhorns were sounded. He hoped the garrison would only notice them when they were over the walls.
When he reached the ladders, the last of the Smalljon's men were clambering over the edge, and the sounds of battle with the garrison reached them. He led his own men up the ladder, eager to join in the battle. But there was no need. By the time he had gotten over the top, the Smalljon's men were spreading to the towers and out along the walls, and he could see the tower of Frey was fluttering over the north western tower. The few men of the garrison who had retrieved their weapons were dead or laying down their arms, and the castle staff seemed totally confused by what was happening. There hadn"t been any need for such a plan after all. But it had delivered him a castle, so he couldn"t complain too much.
'ser Brynden, assign your fifty best men to watch over the castle, and your best commander. They are to watch the River Road, and alert us immediately when Tywin Lannister crosses the Golden Tooth."
"Lord Sarsfield's wife and children?" Ser Brynden asked.
"Lock them in their rooms, but don't mistreat them."
Brynden nodded. "I'll see it done." They had expelled most of the garrison and imprisoned the rest. So there shouldn't be too much trouble. "But for this task I would rather leave a hundred men. And Ser Jon Vance may be my best scout here, but Ser Jason Rivers knows his letters, and I wouldn't trust the maester implicitly. Put Jason in command and he'll tell you right when Lord Tywin marches."
His granduncle knew the matter best, so Robb let him have his way, and Jason Rivers and a hundred men were set to watch the Castle and the River Road.
They didn't need to rest, but his men were happily taking the items of value from the castle, from the silver in the vaults to the inlaid cutlery. Anything that wouldn't bog them down too much was theirs for the taking.
He himself went to pray in the godswood, to ask the Old Gods to watch over his mother and siblings and keep them safe. When he emerged, there was a man calling his name. "Your Grace, King Robb!"
"Here," Robb replied approaching. "What is it?"
The man bowed before him and held out a raven scroll. "This arrived at Ashemark four days past, Your Grace."
Robb nodded, thanked the man and slit open the Tully seal. It was from his mother.
Robb,
I hope this raven finds you well and victorious. I pray every day for this war to end that you might go home safely, but I know things must go well for you soon enough.
I have some news that I hope warms your heart. Lord Tywin Lannister has vacated Harrenhal. In the aftermath, Lord Bolton swept south and occupied the ancient ruin. Tristan joined him shortly afterwards, suitably angry at missing another chance at conflict. Robb, I worry for him sometimes, without you here with him, I fear he had decided on a rash course of action.
Robb couldn't help but smile at the thought of Tristan arriving at Harrenhal just after it was taken. He knew his brother wanted to fight. He would deny him no longer. When they next met, they would ride side by side, he vowed it. He returned to the letter.
But Robb, there is good news to be had. In Harrenhal Tristan found your sister, Arya.
He had to read that line again. Arya? Found? He returned to the letter.
She had apparently been hiding under Tywin Lannister's nose as a kitchen hand, having escaped the capital with a man of the Night's Watch. Robb made a mental note to provide two hundred men to the Night's Watch as thanks. That was just like Arya, ever resourceful, ever looking like a boy and being mistaken for a serving lad. If he or his mother had been told before father went south that Arya being so mistakable would one day save her life he would have laughed. She is coming to me now, and I don't intend to let her out of my sight.
That made sense, with the Greyjoy invasion of the North, another matter he would have to deal with upon his return, if Ser Rodrik couldn't deal with it himself. Perhaps he could write to Tristan at Harrenhal to go north himself and deal with the invasion. Though that would part them for longer, it would satisfy his brother's eagerness for battle.
But your twin, Robb. It seems his eagerness for battle cannot be restrained. He has left his host under the command of Roose Bolton and is riding for the Neck now. He means to use the Crannogmen to enter the north and battle the Ironmen in your stead. He promises swift victory.
He shook his head. Of one mind, he and his twin. He wished his brother well and would pray for him at every godswood he found.
But I must report that his negotiation has failed, and events in the south have moved faster than anticipated. Renly Baratheon lies dead. He led a mounted force of some twenty thousand men to confront his brother Stannis, who lay siege to Storm's End. Something happened people seem unsure what, but Renly is dead and Stannis, despite being injured is now the head of a host of twenty thousand men, mostly knights and riders.
Robb, I feel concerned. Perhaps it is the result of this war, my father and my sons are in danger, and Sansa too. Please be careful Robb. I am your mother, and I need you to be strong for me.
Be safe Robb.
Your Mother
Catelyn
He set the letter down. Things were moving faster than he anticipated. If Stannis was at Storm's End with a host of mounted men, then he was no doubt ready to fall upon the capital, or would be if he had been injured and needed to recover. His plan was working. He had intended it to be Renly that swept down on King's Landing, but Stannis would serve just the same.
"Your Grace," he turned to his granduncle. "Where do we go from here?"
"North," he said. "Back to Ashemark, I don't want to spread us too thinly."
"A wise decision," Brynden agreed. He only had six thousand men, he didn't want to spread them across the entire Westerlands. Besides, there were plenty of other targets in the northern Westerlands. He had to keep up his pressure so that Lord Tywin kept coming west, leaving King's Landing available for Lord Stannis to take without him.
The war could end in the next few months if he remained diligent and continued as he had been. This is for you, father, he thought. All of it. I will not disappoint you. I will make you proud.
