AMINA

She used another hairpin to fasten the note to the leather map. It was already covered with similar annotations in her own handwriting. Notes about natural advantages and disadvantages, nearby holdfasts and villages that could offer much needed supplies, and clearings in which they could make camp.

Amina may have weaseled her way into lessons with knives and swords, but never had she imagined she would march with an army. She was no war strategist, but that wouldn't stop her from helping in every way she could. Hoster Tully had taught her the maps when she was a child, and Amina remembered every story. She was determined to learn the rest of it, but it would have to be as they went.

Already she had picked up bits and pieces from the lords bannermen. Each of them had a unique perspective on the war and how Robb should lead the troops. While Amina couldn't advise from a military standpoint, she'd come to know each of the lords well. Greatjon Umber was fierce and fearless, the kind of man who ought to be on the front lines rallying the troops. Whereas Roose Bolton was secretive and cunning, he made Amina's skin crawl but she would trust him to devise a particularly nasty trap.

Those were the notes she gave Robb in private, when the lords had gone. He knew who she trusted and who she feared might turn craven and run, which man's soldiers spent too much time in their cups, and which were likely to steal from the stores. Amina was no mistress of whisperers but she knew how to blend in. Soldiers found her a good drinking companion, and she was always eager to spar even if she ended up face down in the mud more oft than not. Lords were impressed by her knowledge of history, but she'd grown up with boys and had a casual air about her that put them at ease. When men as transparent as windowpane surrounded her, Amina's job was easy.

Grey Wind sat his head on her knees and whined. Amina tried in vain to shoo him away. He looked up her with yellow eyes. "Oh, you're just as bad as Robb." She relented and scratched the wolf between the ears.

"Sometimes I think that wolf might be Robb," Theon said from the doorway.

Amina smiled at Grey Wind. "You've heard too many of Old Nan's stories." She looked up at her friend and patted the empty spot beside her. "If you're looking for Robb, he's with his mother. Catelyn's just arrived from the Eyrie."

Theon joined her, looking over her maps. "I saw. The Blackfish is down with the men." She grinned. It had been too long since she'd seen Cat's uncle; his duties in the Vale kept him too busy to visit as often as they all would have liked. "He's the only one, Lysa kept the rest of her knights around her."

Amina let out a long sigh, though she'd feared as much. Other than Catelyn, it seemed to her as if all the Tullys worth had been confined to the older generations. "Gods be good we won't need them."

"No, you'll singlehandedly plot out the war for us," Theon teased. She gave him a shove, but then linked her arm through his. "Are you coming into camp tonight? Garrett's challenged one of Umber's men, it should be a good show."

"Perhaps, but I should speak with Cat first, and look for Brynden." Before she had a chance to do either of those things, the door opened again. Amina recognized the man immediately, and nearly leapt over the bench to get across the room. "Brynden!" She crashed into him, and hugged him tight as she could.

"That's uncle Brynden to you," he replied, gruffly, but picked her up so her feet dangled above the ground. "You aren't so grown that you can forget that." Though he wasn't her uncle by any relation, he'd told her she ought to call him that if Robb and the girls were going to. He would have no tiny lady calling him Ser.

"I've missed you, uncle," she said with a grin. "Lysa may have kept all her other knights, but she let us have the best." Brynden laughed, and mussed her hair. For a moment, she felt like a girl again, the maps and battle plans left forgotten on the table. But only for a moment.

Robb and his mother emerged from the other room. Catelyn looked worried, but Amina thought she saw pride in her eyes as well. Robb motioned for the others to gather around the table. "We'll split the host below the Neck, the foot will continue down the Kingsroad and our horsemen can cross at the Twins." Amina pursed her lips, thinking of the stories she'd heard of Walder Frey's stubbornness, but he was still Hoster Tully's bannerman, surely he wouldn't be too much of a hindrance.

"Lord Tywin will march for our main host, leaving the riders free to hurry down to Riverrun," Robb continued.

"It's a risk to split our army with a river," Brynden warned. "But, we'd keep Jaime and Tywin separated as well. It just might be worth it." Robb nodded, as if he'd rehearsed this plan in his head a hundred times.

"Roose Bolton will command the foot." The Greatjon was far too easy to provoke, and Tywin would know that. It would be best to keep Lord Umber with them in that event that they met Jaime Lannister in the field.

"And we'll be with the riders," Amina finished. It was where Ned would be, and therefore Robb would want to be there too. As for her, she'd go wherever Robb went. "Catelyn, will you return to Winterfell?"

Catelyn sighed. "My father is dying and my brother is surrounded by foes. As much as I would love to return to Bran and Rickon, I must go to Riverrun."

"Call the bannermen back," Amina told Theon. "And tell Garrett you'll be missing his fight."


With each day they drew closer to the Twins, and with each day Amina grew more anxious. They had little choice but to cross the river, it would take twice as long to reach Riverrun should they need to keep their host together and take the Kingsroad, to say nothing of the Lannister army they would face along the way. But Jaime's army was tearing apart the Riverlands, Brynden's outriders brought back new tales every night. The army would take Riverrun in days, if not sooner. Edmure's host was no match for the Lannisters.

"Lord Frey would be a fool to stand in our way," Theon said with his usual confidence. Typically, Amina would take comfort in that, but today she was on edge.

"Walder Frey is an ancient man with a well placed castle, no siege would work here," Amina reminded them. "His men would just flee to the far tower and escape. We're at a disadvantage."

"Damn the man," Robb swore. "I'll pull the Twins down around his ears if I have to, we'll see how well he likes that!"

"You sound like a sulky boy, Robb," Catelyn said sharply. "A child sees an obstacle, and his first thought is to run around it or knock it down. A lord must learn that sometimes words can accomplish what swords cannot."

Robb looked away sheepishly, embarrassed to be berated by his mother in front of his friends. Amina and Catelyn shared a long look. "Give me a moment to change out of my riding clothes and brush my hair." This was what she was good at, learning what people desired and using that knowledge to get her way.

By the time the host reached the gates of the Twins, Amina was dressed in a gown with her hair pulled back like Catelyn's. She chose her dress carefully, too shabby and she would offend the prickly Lord Frey, too fanciful and she wouldn't be taken seriously. After months of dealing with Northern lords, Amina had honed the art. If the maesters had a link for clothing, she would surely have one forged.

A plank bridge slid across the moat, the portcullis was raised, and a small host of Freys rode out to meet them. The leader of the group introduced himself as Ser Stevron, Lord Walder's heir. "My lord father would be most honored if you would share meat and mead with him in the castle and explain your purpose here."

The lords bannermen did not appreciate the invitation and made their distrust of the Frey's known to Robb, much to Ser Stevron's discomfort. Amina smiled at the Frey. He was surely old enough to have grandchildren of his own, but relegated to second place until his lord father saw fit to die. It must be a tiring position. "Lady Catelyn and I will go," she offered. "As it appears we're the only ones with any grace."

Lord Manderly protested loudly, but Catelyn silenced him with a look. "Lord Walder is my father's bannerman, I have known him since I was a girl. He would never offer us any harm."

"I am certain my lord father would be pleased to speak to the Lady Catelyn and," Ser Stevron paused and looked to Amina.

"Lady Amina Corrigan," she supplied. Ser Stevron nodded. They left one of Lord Frey's other sons behind as an assurance of their good intentions. Amina gave Robb a smile over her shoulder as they rode toward the castle.

In the great hall, so many Freys greeted them that Amina felt she might have been shrunk down and thrown into some mouse hole. It didn't help that the Freys all had a weasely look about them. Lord Frey himself looked old enough to have lived in the age of Aegon's Conquest. Though, if he had, Aegon might have met his match in Walder Frey's stubbornness.

"What am I to do with you?" Lord Frey asked, looking between them. He narrowed his eyes at Amina. "I don't even know you."

"Lady Corrigan, father," Ser Stevron supplied.

"A Corrigan, heh?" The old man leered at her. "I haven't seen a Beldish wench in a generation at least. Let me get a look at you." Lord Frey didn't wait for her consent, just grabbed Amina's wrist and tugged her toward him. He eyed her closely for a moment and then let her go. "No, not as pretty as I remember. A shame."

Amina thanked the Gods that the North had given her a thick skin, elsewise this negotiation might have proved to be a challenge.

"We're here to ask you to open your gates, my lord," Catelyn continued, steering them back to their goal. "My sons and his lords bannermen are most anxious to cross the river and be on their way."

"You want to know why my men linger here, heh?" Lord Frey asked. "We meant to march to Riverrun – or my sons did, I'm well past marching – as soon as we amassed our strength. It isn't our fault your brother lost his battle before we could leave. Why should my sons be eager to march to their deaths I ask?"

"All the more reason for us to be on our way as soon as possible," Catelyn said, politely. "Is there anywhere we can talk?"

"We're talking now," he complained. Lord Frey glanced around the room at his brood. "Well, what are you waiting for? The ladies want to talk to me in private, heh." It took several minutes, and more prodding from Lord Frey, for the room to clear. "Now what do you want to say?"

"We want to cross," Amina told him.

He turned his attention on her. "That's bold of you. Why should I let you?"

"If you haven't noticed, there is a war outside your gates. No one is forcing you to fight it, but the Lannisters will come either way. They know no difference between those who are impartial and those who fight for the good of the Seven Kingdoms."

"Pretty words from a pretty mouth, but as I see it, Joffrey Baratheon sits the throne and you Northern lot are nothing but rebels."

Amina was undeterred. "Robert Baratheon was a rebel too. If you have so much disdain for us, why haven't you pledged your swords to Tywin Lannister?"

"Lord Tywin the proud and splendid, Warden of the West, Hand of the King. Him and his gold this and gold that and lions here and lions there. I'll wager you, he eats too many beans, he breaks wind just like me, but you'll never here him admit it," Walder Frey ranted. "If Lord Tywin wants my help he can blood well ask for it." And just like that, Amina knew they had won.

"We are asking for your help, my lord," Catelyn said humbly. "And my father and my brother and my lord husband and my sons are asking with our voices."

Lord Frey looked at them with little warmth. "The Tullys have always pissed on me, don't deny it, don't lie, you know it's true. Years ago I suggested a match between Edmure and my daughter. Why not? I had one in mind, but if he didn't warm to her there were plenty of others to choose from. But no, Lord Hoster gave me sweet words and excuses. But what I wanted was to get rid of a daughter."

Amina and Catelyn waited patiently as he went on. Walder Frey talked a lot, and with every word made it well and clear what he wanted. "Lysa is near as bad. It was a year ago, I went to the city to see my sons ride in the tourney. I proposed she and Lord Arryn foster two of my grandsons at court but Jon Arryn wouldn't have them and I blame Lysa for that." He paused for breath. "You say you want to cross the river? Well you can't. Not unless I allow it, and why should I? The Tullys and the Starks have never been friends of mine." He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms looking pleased with himself.

"How old are your grandsons?" Amina asked after a moment. "The ones you meant to foster with Lysa."

Lord Frey took so long to answer Amina thought he might have died right there. "Eight. Or seven. One's one and one's the other."

"Oh, Bran is eight now too," Amina said, looking to Catelyn as if a thought was just occurring to her. "Winterfell must feel empty with the family in the south, perhaps the boys could be fostered there. Bran would enjoy the company."

Walder grunted, but nodded once. "Freys aren't meant for the North, too bloody cold. But it'll do them good, let 'em see how good they have it here." Amina had seen the squat, ugly castle the Frey's called home, inside and out. But if insulting Winterfell made Walder Frey more inclined to open his gates, so be it.

"Robb could use a squire," Catelyn suggested to Amina, as if they weren't haggling with Lord Frey. Amina nodded, and Cat turned back to Lord Frey. "Maybe you have a younger son who'd like the honor?" It was the kind of honor no one could refuse, and besides it wouldn't hurt for Robb to have more help. He had plenty of other things to worry about.

"It's about time Olyvar gets himself knighted, he's my nineteenth son, or is it eighteenth? I can never remember. Either way, he'd make a good squire." They all nodded, but it was clear they would need to give more to appease Lord Frey. "My youngest boy, Elmar, he'll need a wife when he's of age. Don't you have a girl or two running around, Lady Stark?"

"Sansa is betrothed to Joffrey Lannister. But Arya…" When Arya found out, she was going to be livid, but she wasn't here. Maybe she wasn't in King's Landing either. The thought filled Amina with dread. If Arya was dead or missing…But, either way, they had to make the deal, so Amina kept her mouth shut while Catelyn agreed to the match.

Walder Frey looked pleased with this development, but he eyed Amina curiously. "I don't suppose you're looking for a husband, Lady Corrigan."

Amina smiled politely. "I'm not a Stark," she reminded him. "And I have no castle, only burnt land." Walder Frey grunted but didn't press the matter.

"Are we settled then?" Catelyn asked. "We'll foster your grandsons, take your son as a squire, and marry Arya to Elmar, and you'll allow us to cross your bridge."

Lord Frey nodded slowly. "One last thing," he said. "Your boy, the eldest, I want him to marry one of my daughters."

In a very uncharacteristic expression of emotion, Amina choked as if she'd swallowed a rabbit whole. Walder Frey hardly gave her a second look; he was looking so intently at Catelyn, waiting to call her bluff. Amina had the sudden urge to leave the castle, fetch Myst, and take Robb to Beldain. Curse the Corrigans and curse the war, the ghosts and the Lannisters would just have to move on. The Gods had taken too much, Robb was hers.

"He can choose whichever one he wants, I've got skinny ones and fat ones, virgins and widows. Roslin's a pretty one, he might like her."

Amina took a long slow breath through her nose. She was behaving like a child, seeing problems as something to crash through or run from, just as Cat had chided Robb for. There were ways out of betrothals, and when the war was won they'd have more than enough time to get around it. But at present they had no time to circumnavigate anything. They needed a way across the bridge now. Promises were just words, after all, and words were wind. "I suppose we have a deal."