Chapter 14; A night of betrayals;

Characters of the chapter

Agatha, Bard of Orlais

Alerie, Bard of Orlais

Belinda Blackwater, Lady of Highgarden, wife of lord Bronn, formerly Belinda Windcliff from the Anderfels

Bronn Blackwater, Lord of Highgarden, Lord Paramount of the Reach

Claudette, Bard of Orlais

Edmure Tully Lord of Riverrun , Lord Paramount of the Riverlands, head of house Tully

Genna, Bard of Orlais

Haddon, Bard of Orlais

Ser Kenton, Knight in the service of House Kronos

Stiletto, Bard of Orlais

Tolleyn, Bard of Orlais

Cursive/Bold text in the chapter is Orlesian

Riverrun, the Riverlands…

Edumre Tully was standing in the main hall of his castle, staring out the window as he awaited word on the army he had ordered assembled. He was fully prepared for war, dressed in his scalemail armor, a longsword at his belt. Near the door two of his soldiers were standing watch and a servant girl of some twenty years of age was washing the floors with a bucket of water and a rag, other than that he was alone.

As he looked at the sunset through the windows, his mind was drawn back to the last war he had participated in and the events that had occurred since. His last war had been the War of the Five Kings. There he had botched things royally, more than once, even he could not deny it.

His first failure had been a rash action that had cost King Robb a victory he had hoped to achieve, and desperately needed soldiers besides. Then had come the atrocity of the Red Wedding, where he had been taken captive, tearing him away from a happy marriage he had been looking forward to. Of course he had held up his marriage with Roslin Frey after the war, and their love was still there, but past events ensured that their every interaction was permeated with hidden sorrows and regrets. His married life was now an endless litany of awkwardness.

His second failure had come when he had caved in to the threats made by Jaime Lannister. In an effort to protect his family he had surrendered Riverrun to their enemies which had inadvertently resulted in the death of his uncle. Afterwards back to the cells he had been sent. Later on all the men of house Frey had gone and died at once at a night of feasting. Poison, so he was led to believe, though he had not learned who had accomplished such, or how. The women of house Frey would not answer his questions, except to say: "The north remembers. Winter came for house Frey."

Knowing not what else to do with him, the Frey women had set him loose. He had sought to return to his home, only to discover a garrison of Frey soldiers, men-at-arms who refused to believe that the house they served had been cast down and destroyed. He had thought to seek out King Jon and Queen Daenerys and ask them for help in retaking the ancestral home of his family, but he had lacked the means to reach them, having no other possessions other than the clothes he wore. He had found a family of farmers that still remembered the Tullys kindly. There he had lived and worked for a time, even thinking about setting aside his life as a lord and living out the remainder of his days as a field hand. That had been until he had heard a rumor that Queen Daenerys, freshly seated on the Iron Throne, had commanded Jaime Lannister to seize Riverrun for the Crown as proof of his new loyalties.

Edmure had sought Ser Jaime out, and the two had met once again, discovering each other to be changed men. Edmure had aided the Lannister in overcoming Riverrun's defenses, and in return Jaime had appointed him the commander of the castle's garrison, a lord again in all but name. He had seen to it that the family that had sheltered him had been well rewarded for their service, and had settled in his role as a commander of the Queen's soldiers stationed at Riverrun.

Edmure had missed the Second War for the Dawn and the Battle of Nightfall, but he had been more than happy to host the King and the Queen when the time had come to redraw the map of Westeros. His castle made a perfect place for such talks located as it was nearly at the middle of the Seven Kingdoms and while the castle had been ostensibly held by the Queen's troops, Riverrun had always had strong ties to the North, particularly to the Starks of Winterfell. In the great divide that had followed his castle had ended up on the Queen's side of the kingdoms. As thanks for his assistance in facilitating the negotiations, the Queen had restored his lordship in truth, naming him the Lord Paramount of the Riverlands. Edmure had discovered the office much changed from what it had meant in the past. Now all the lords made their oath of fealty directly to the Queen, which meant he only received taxes and levies from lands his family was assigned to control as determined by the Queen's hand, Lord Tyrion. As Lord Paramount he could maintain a host of up to three thousand men in the Riverlands and only the Riverlands, *for the maintenance of law and order*, which admittedly was more than many lesser houses could hope to manage on their own. Beyond that he could only form an army if the Queen directed him to do so. Despite the changes imposed he had resolved to serve his new Queen loyally, grateful to her for all she had returned to him.

Of course fate would have it that things had quickly begun to go wrong for him again. House Kronos emerged all around him, rising from the brief era of post war chaos. He had rallied what support he could and marched against house Kronos, only to be soundly beaten at the Battle of the Spring Fields, losing all his lands except Riverrun itself. Only the intervention of the Queen had kept his house from being ousted from lordship a second time, forcing a truce and restoring a portion of the Riverlands to his control. "I let her down that day." Edmure thought bitterly. "She trusted me to hold the Riverlands and I could not do it. Because of my failure, she had to make an unpleasant decision that caused tension between her and House Kronos."

Even after the intervention of the Queen house Kronos had remained and sometime later the son of Lord Kronos had decided to form his own house, taking even more of the Riverlands away from him. This time he had grudgingly allowed the affront to stand, knowing full well he lacked the resources to force the issue.

"This time I won't botch things. I'll do everything right this time, act with precision and follow my commands exactly. This time will be different." He vowed to himself.

With house Kronos and house Blackstar controlling the bulk of the Riverlands, Edmure had been concerned that he would be unable to fulfill the duties expected of a Lord Paramount. To his immense relief most of the houses in the Rivelands seemed to be responding to his summons and would soon rally to his side. A small force of his troops was already in position to contest the landfall of the Orlesians, which would buy time to finish assembling his army and join with forces of the Queen that had been training in the Riverlands. He was confident that houses Kronos and Blackstar could be convinced to add their strength to his as well. Foreign invaders were a threat to everyone, after all. Even they had to see that. He for one would do his utmost to set his local rivalries aside until the Orlesians had been beaten back and the realm was safe once again. Who knows, maybe there would even be a chance for reconciliation between him and the upstart houses. Few things built lasting connections between former enemies like fighting side by side in a war after all.

His musings were interrupted by the sight of his Maester coming into the hall. "My lord, there have been sightings of several hundred knights of house Kronos on the road, riding hard for Riverrun." said the Maester.

Edmure frowned. This was rather odd. There had been no alliance with house Kronos as of yet, and in any case his army was assembling away from Riverrun, so there was no reason for a force of knights this size to be coming here. If they wished to treat with him, an emissary with a few dozen escorts would have sufficed.

"Let's be careful about this. Have the men raise the drawbridge and post more troops on the walls. We'll find out the intentions of house Kronos when they get here. And send a raven for the Queen. I have a feeling this should be reported." He decided.

The Maester nodded, turned to follow his orders, then keeled over, a throwing knife sticking from the back of his skull.

Edmure blinked, taking a moment to process what had happened.

"Sorry old man, can't have you doing that." Said the servant girl who had thrown the knife before plunging her hands into her bucket and producing two longer daggers from the dirty water.

"What in the name of…" said one of the guards, fumbling for his sword, only for his fellow guardsman to plunge his sword into his back. Then this traitorous guardsman made to attack the man who was supposed to be his lord, but Edmure was ready for him, pushing his sword aside and cutting him down.

The servant girl that was no servant girl eyed the dead traitor distastefully. "Idiot." she commented dryly. She stretched her neck and gave the daggers in her hands a few spins just to show off. "Will milord care for a dance?" she asked with a suddenly acquired Orlesian accent, giving a mock curtsey.

"By all means, if you are so eager to throw your life away." Edmure replied, his longsword at the ready. "But if you throw down your weapons and yield to me now, I promise you mercy for attacking me in my home."

"I need no mercy from a fish-man!" The woman hissed.

The two circled each other warily, and even that brief moment was enough to impress Edmure: Her poise was perfect, her movements graceful and precise. The easy flow with which she moved would have been hard to mimic by even the most skilled knight of Westeros, telltale signs of a killer with a lifelong training completely alien to your average fighter. This was a very dangerous opponent.

The Orlesian moved first, exploding to action with a speed that Edmure would have thought impossible. Her first two attacks he managed to block, barely. The third jabbed at his face, tracing a thin red line on his left cheek. Then they parted again, the woman grinning savagely, her eyes afire. Edmure attacked next, only to have the Orlesian woman doge three of his blows before ducking under the fourth to slice at an unprotected area on his leg just above the knee. She sidestepped his thrust while a dagger went seeking under a shoulder pad, slicing open a strap. The momentum of his thrust carrying him forward, she followed this up with a slash across his back, a blow which thankfully was deflected by his armor.

It was around this point that Edmure realized he was losing. The speed of his opponent was incredible, and though her attacks were light, each success weakened him a little bit more.

The woman attacked him with her left hand dagger, an attack that he managed to block. Too late he realized her trick as she used the crossguard of her dagger to pin his sword in place as she attacked him with her other dagger. He managed to catch her striking arm by grabbing her wrist, but not before an inch of her blade sunk to his hip. Edmure twisted her arm and made her drop the dagger she had struck him with. The he slammed his head to her face, hard enough to knock her back. She turned her fall into a backward roll, then took the sword on one of the dead guards to replace the dagger she had lost.

Making a quick decision, Edmure kicked the bucket of water towards her. Instinctively her arms rose to block the bucket flying at her face, the water blinding her for the briefest of moments. It was all Edmure needed. Putting all his strength behind the blow, he cut her across the mouth. His strike split her pretty head in half, the top half falling off before the rest of her collapsed to the ground with a loud thump, blood beginning to gush from her wound. With his opponent dead, Edmure became aware of the sounds of battle coming from beyond the door of the main hall. "The castle is under attack." He realized. He ran from the hall to go into the rookery to send a raven to warn the queen of what had happened here.

Running through the corridors, he came across bodies of the fallen, those of his guards and those of the castle staff. He had no way to know which ones were his and which ones belonged to these infiltrators and traitors, there was nothing to his eye that set them apart. "How many might there be? How did they get here?" He wondered.

As he ran, he began to feel feverish. His pace slowed, his thoughts became foggy, his wounds burned like they were on fire. "What is wrong with me?" he wondered as his condition continued to worsen. He fought through the discomfort he was feeling, continuing to stumble forward, forcing himself up the stairs of the Maester's tower, thinking only of how he had to get word out no matter the cost.

As he entered through the door to the Maester's chambers, he found two more bodies just on the other side of the door: One was a guard with a crossbow, another a female elf in commoner's clothing, both drenched head to toe in blood. Knowing there was nothing he could do for the dead, he walked past them, all but collapsing against the table where the raven scrolls were. With shaky hands he took one of the scrolls, a quill to his other hand and began to scrawl the words on paper. Then he paused: "Wait, since when there were elves in his castle?"

Then he heard a click and a thrum behind him and felt a sharp pain between his shoulder blades. He glanced down, seeing a bolt piercing his chest. He turned around and and saw the elf he had thought dead standing near the door, calmly reloading the crossbow in her hands. Without saying a word she finished reloading, took aim and put another bolt through his chest. With a final sigh Edmure slid down and onto his back, his head under the table, where he died, his last thoughts being about his many mistakes and the amends he never got to make.

The elf reloaded her weapon, then heard running steps and the door behind her opening and pointed the crossbow at the noise.

"Easy Alerie, it's only me." Said a man with lean features and short black hair as he emerged through the door, holding up his hands. Like the elf he was dressed in servants clothing but was also carrying a curved longsword and a dagger on his belt. The man frowned as he saw her: "You… you're covered in blood…"

"Not mine. His." The elf answered nonchalantly, giving the dead guard small nudge with her shoe. "Made playing dead a lot more convincing."

"Ew… just ew." the man commented, grimacing.

"Maker, don't be so melodramatic Haddon, we're not attending a party." Alerie replied, rolling her eyes.

Haddon glanced at the body of Edmure, seeing the bolts protruding from him, then the crossbow in Alerie's hand. "That's the lord of the castle. You just… shot him? Are you insane?"

"He was going to send out an alert. I couldn't let that happen." Aleria said defensively. "Besides if I know Genna he was dead already. That girl always likes to poison her daggers."

Haddon stared at Alerie for a moment in disbelief. "Is there some part of *capture alive* that you two didn't get?"

"The precise wording was *captured alive if possible*." Alerie corrected. "It was not possible. Anyway, it's done now, nothing anyone can do about it."

"Yeah, I'm not sure if Agatha will be as calm and stoic about that. She won't be happy." Haddon commented.

"I'll deal with that sour bat when that time comes. No need for you to lose any sleep over it. You didn't do anything wrong." The elf replied.

"It's not my funeral pyre that's for sure." Haddon agreed. "But it was stupid of you anyhow and I'm partnered with the two of you who seemingly can't get a job done without trying to slaughter everything in sight. Same bloody thing every time…"

"If you're referring to that Lydes job, that happened precisely once, and you've never let it drop." The elf argued.

"Twice now." Haddon responded. "And where is Genna by the way? I want to rant at her too. Not fair for you to get all the shouting."

"Well she was supposed to secure the Lord, right? If he is here and she is not we can guess what happened." Alerie replied.

"Well aint that just perfect." Haddon exclaimed, annoyed.

"Nothing to be done about it now. Come on, we still have a battle to win here." She said and left. Haddon followed in her footsteps after one last look on lord Edmure.

They emerged to the battlements of Riverrun, to the sights and sounds of a chaotic battle. In the courtyard below them more of their fellow bards were fighting the Tully loyalists using their superior skill to overcome the greater numbers of the enemy. Fighting alongside the bards were a number of bribed guards, a band of blue tied around the arm of each one. Alerie and Haddon ran to a barrel where they had stashed equipment beforehand. Alerie reached into the barrel and pulled out a leather bag which she handed to Haddon. Then she took out her custom made crossbow to replace the inferior one of the dead guard, along with a full quiver of bolts. The crossbow was a light one, sacrificing penetrating power for faster reloading and precision. She loaded the weapon, took careful aim and dropped an enemy archer on the opposite battlements with her opening shot. She reloaded, aimed and fired, reloaded, aimed and fired, taking out enemies with unerring accuracy. Meanwhile Haddon ran along the wall dropping silvery globes as he went. As they struck the ground they shattered, generating thick smoke that blinded the guards in the courtyard, whether rebel or loyal. The Orlesian bards on the other hand, having been taught to adapt to changing circumstances, soon recovered and turned the situation to their advantage. In moments the battle in the courtyard was resolved, the Tully loyalists overwhelmed.

Seeing that the fight was concluded, Alerie and Haddon found a way down to the courtyard where the found the Leader of this group of bards: Agatha, a woman with dark hair and equally dark eyes, still beautiful in her way although small wrinkles had started forming in the corners of her eyes. "So, Lord Edmure?" she asked the two of when she saw them. As her response she got only embarrassed expressions, the two bards suddenly finding their feet extremely interesting.

Agatha looked surprised at first, then her expression turned to one of annoyance. "What happened?" she asked with a seething voice.

"He was going to send a warning out. He left me no choice!" Alerie spoke up.

"I bet he did. I bet he left you plenty of choices, and you were just too damn impatient to look for them." Agatha countered. "I knew I gave you the wrong job." she continued, pinching the bridge of her nose. "And can you blame me? Simple locate and secure mission, anyone should be able to handle it. Instead I get this. Are you thick heads good for anything except straight up combat? Are you bards of just street thugs? Discipline! Subtlety! Discretion! How many times must I remind you of this?" She scolded them.

"Where's Genna?" She asked suddenly.

"Dead, we think." Haddon responded.

"Think!?" Agatha asked.

"She never showed up." Haddon explained.

Agatha considered the news for a moment. "Well if she's gone then that's payment enough for her mistakes, as I'm sure she had a hand in this too. As for you two, this fuckup is coming out of your pay, you hear?" she said then.

"I didn't do anything!" Haddon tried to protest.

"You're a team! If you were the responsible one of the trio, you should have kept the others on a shorter leash. And it was you who convinced me that you could handle this. You couldn't, and thanks to that were now short a lord. That's on you." Agatha replied. "Go check on Genna. Confirm whether she's alive or dead. Take down enemy stragglers you come across. Cleanup duty is everything I can trust you with." She ordered.

The two nodded and left quickly, eager to get away from the situation. "If that is you *dealing* with Agatha, then knock it off. It's making me poorer by the minute." Haddon said to Alerie as they walked away.

"Yeah, sorry. I had no idea she was going to do that." Alerie apologized.

"That's the truth of it. Just like I didn't know you'd make such a mess of this." Haddon replied.

As they left Agatha continued to manage the situation as it was. "Where is the woman? The Lady Roslin?" She asked.

"She and her boy are holed up in the cellars, along with a few surviving guards. They refuse to come out no matter what we've said." answered one of her bards.

"Fish them out of there, even if you have to use actual fishhooks to do it. But take them alive at all costs. No more mistakes." Agatha ordered.

"My Lady, riders approaching, House Kronos!" Shouted one of the rebel guards atop the gate.

"Open the gates, let them in!"Agatha shouted back. "Time to face the music with our allies." She thought to herself.

The gates opened and several hundred knights in full armor poured into the courtyard, their banners bearing a black hourglass on a field of bright yellow.

"Welcome my good sers, welcome! Welcome to Riverrun." She greeted them.

"What is the situation here?" Asked the commander of this force of knights, called Ser Kenton, ignoring the greeting altogether. His question had been a simple one, if blunt, however his tone revealed his loathing. "Clearly this one is uncomfortable with the idea of shadow agents like the bards." Agatha thought. "Or maybe it's about seeing a woman fighting and in command. Or maybe both of those."

"Under control, Ser." Agatha answered his question. "The last pockets of resistance are being dealt with as we speak. I expect total control of the castle grounds very shortly."

"Lord Edmure, where is he? I want him brought to me." The knight said next.

"Unfortunately there has been a complication. He was killed." She replied.

"Killed?" Ser Kenton repeated, shocked. "You fools! How could you let this happen? He was supposed to be our hostage!"

"I am aware of that, but mistakes were made. Rest assured the ones responsible have been disciplined." She said, cursing in her mind the direction where the conversation was being taken.

"Have they been shortened by a head?" He asked "Anything less seems deficient punishment for botching matters so badly."

Agatha bit her lip, then said: "Look, I don't tell you what to do with your people, so I'd rather you didn't tell me what to do with mine. Lady Roslin Tully and their son Hoster are still alive."

"Those two are not nearly as valuable as the Lord would have been. Where are they?" The knight continued to snap at her.

"Holed up in the cellars. We are working to get to them." She answered.

"Well, since you evidently managed to mishandle this situation already, we'll join your efforts, so that everything else goes smoothly today." He said, dismounting and drawing his sword before storming off in the direction of the cellars.

"Fucking Westerosi savages in their tin can suits…" Aghatha muttered. She then turned to her people: "Bards, with me! Let's get this done…"

The Bloody Gate, the Vale…

The bloody gate was in the state it usually was, the gate closed and soldiers on watch on the cliffs above the road leading to the gate. One of these soldiers, named Tolleyn, kept glancing at a mountainside in the distance. Eventually he saw what he had been expecting, a flash of light, coming from a mirror reflecting the light of the setting sun. Twice it flashed, then a pause, then two flashes again.

"I wonder what kind of weather we will have tomorrow?" He said aloud.

"I think the sun will be shining very brightly, for many days to come." Answered another guard, completing the code-phrase, following this up with plunging his spear into the throat of the man next to him. At that exact same moments one half of the guards turned on the other half, shooting them with bows or slaying them with melee weapons. In less than half a minute the battle for the Bloody gate was concluded.

"Good." Tolleyn nodded, pleased with the efficiency of his fellows. Then he opened a chest at his feet. "Alright, which ones of you wanted to be paid at this point?" He asked. A number of hands rose, and he tossed a small pouch of coins to each of them. "There you go. Now get out of here. And a free piece of advice: Avoid the roads. You are still in Vale uniform, and if our allies see that they won't ask questions before running you through.

Those who had been paid left, while those who remained opened the bloody gate. Just as the sun set fully, a force of riders appeared bearing as their sigil a black, eight pointed star on a field of pure white. The riders rode straight on through heading into the Vale.

"Didn't even stop to say hi." Tolleyn mused as he watched them ride.

The Eyrie, moments later…

Claudette felt the mouth of a man clamp on hers, the Vale soldier doing the kissing pressing her against the wall, their hands crawling over each other. When she heard footsteps she opened an eyelid to see who it was. The soldier with his less acute hearing heard nothing, particularly as he was busy fondling her. In the hall there was now a bald man she knew only by the name of Stiletto, since he had never given her another name, giving her a nod. She responded with a wink to indicate she had understood. Then, continuing to kiss the soldier, she moved her hand down, as if to lift up her skirt, but instead producing a slender dagger from inside her boot. She struck him hard between the ribs, hard enough to drive the air from his lungs so he could not scream, the enchanted dagger easily piercing the plate armor he wore. She pulled her blade free and sunk it between his legs, savoring the hurt and betrayed look on his face. "Sorry, I thought those were your brains." She mocked before freeing her blade again and slashing open his throat.

After the soldier collapsed she turned her eyes to look at the other bard, noting the bloody dagger in his hands. "You got the Lord?" She asked in a calm voice, like she was talking about the weather.

"Uh-huh." Stiletto said with a nod.

"Alright then. Let's get to work on the rest of them." She said.

She stepped over the body of the soldier and walked to Stiletto, who wordlessly handed her a sack and a set of keys. She accepted both with a nod, and they headed towards the barracks of the guards. When they got there they went their separate ways, Stiletto heading to one area of the barracks, she to another. When she reached a closed heavy door she stopped, pressing her ear against the door, smiling as she heard snores coming from the far side. Taking out her keys she unlocked the door slowly, soundlessly, cautiously opening it partway. Next from the sack she took out a glass vial filled with milk-white liquid. She tossed the vial into the room, having just enough time to see the shattering of the vial and the eruption of a white mist before she quickly closed the door and locked it up again. She heard muffled cries of pain coming from the room and fists thumping at the door before silence fell. She briskly moved to the next door, behind which more soldiers were sleeping. The more she could kill before the alarm was sounded the more likely they were to succeed in taking over the castle...

Highgarden, the Reach…

Bronn, these days a Lord of House Blackwater had sat down for one last supper with his wife before heading out to war, with only two servants in attendance. After Queen Daenerys had secured her throne, he had seen appropriate to remind Tyrion and his brother of the debt they both owed him. As a result they had, through great effort, convinced the Queen to grant him the empty castle of Highgarden, along with the lordship that came with it, appointing him the Lord Paramount of the Reach. Of course lordship had brought its own headaches, starting with his inexperience in actually managing the lands he had won. When he had finally found a suitable wife from a small and declining family known as the Windcliffs out from the Anderfells (The only noble family within the known world willing to consider a marriage with a sellsword-turned-lord it seemed), the situation had improved significantly. Belinda had proven to be every inch a Woman of the Anderfels: a headstrong, fiery woman, very able to stomach Bronn and his mercenary ways. She had made it clear early on that she would not agree to be a meek wife lurking on the sidelines, like the Westerosi noblewomen, and so they had negotiated themselves an arrangement. She now managed the household and the finances of their Lands, while Bronn trained the troops and led the army, the part he actually knew. The arrangement had worked for the best: his wife had shown the Anderfelian tendency of total commitment, proving to be adept as an administrator as well as a wife and a lover, managing governance with systematic and tireless efficiency while filling their nights with passion. All in all he was very happy with the woman he had managed to find for himself.

"You will leave soon?" She asked of him.

"In the morning." He confirmed, as he was filling his plate. "All the preparations for leaving are complete of course, but one more night shouldn't matter."

"Aye, probably not." She agreed. "And I think it most fortunate. I should give the love of my life a proper goodbye after all." she said, giving a seducing smile.

"And when you return, you shall find your home waiting for you." She continued. "You on your part better remember to come back from the wars, my Lord."

"As my Lady commands then." He said. Then he raised his cup. "A toast, to good fortune in the war and a happy return home."

"To that then." she said, raising her own cup.

Before either of them could drink the door to the hall was flung open and a guard rushed into the hall, shouting:

"MY LORD, WE ARE UNDER ATTACK, WE-" Was all he had time to shout before one of the servants took out a dagger and stabbed him.

"What the-?" Bronn breathed as he stood up, his instincts kicking in. Fortunately he still had the tendency to bring his weapons to wherever he went, so he was able to draw out his dagger and kill the attacking servant. He turned around and saw that the other servant had also drawn a dagger and had tried to attack his wife. Belinda had stabbed a table knife through her enemy's eye, causing him to collapse against the table, a red stain growing on the white tablecloth.

"A table knife?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It was the first thing at hand." She shrugged.

"You do realize that stain is never coming out, right?" he asked, eyeing the red splotch disapprovingly.

"Then we will buy another one. I know we can afford one." She said dismissively.

"Fair enough." He said. "But this poor bastard of a guard barged in screaming about attackers in the castle before being killed. There must be more of these fuckers in the castle."

"Yep, and by the looks of things busily trying to take over our home. We need to throw them out." She said, walking to the dead guard and taking his sword.

"Are you sure you know how to use that?" He asked when he saw her take the sword.

"Well enough. Even Thedosian noblewomen can get weapons instruction, remember? Don't let it rankle your sensibilities, you're still likely better than me. And no, I won't agree to huddle in a corner while you risk your life."

"Oh I already know better than to try that line with you. Just… be careful. I'd hate to see anything happen to you.

"Agreed. Same to you love." she said.

Bronn reached out with his hand to take a quick bite out of their untouched supper before he would head out. He didn't feel like fighting with an empty stomach.

"I wouldn't." Belinda warned. "There is a good chance that's all poisoned. It's probably what these assassins intended to use to kill us until that guard ruined everything."

"Fucking hells." Bronn said, exasperated.

"Fully agreed, but let's complain about it later. Now, are you coming?" she said before she ran out through the doors, shouting a warning: "CASTLE TO ARMS! TO ARMS! FOES IN THE CASTLE! REPEL THE ENEMY! TO ARMS! TO ARMS!"

Bronn could not help but smile. "My, what a woman." he said before drawing his own sword and running after her to destroy these invaders that had dared to attack them in their home.