Barristan
The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Barristan Selmy, came forward, with his fellow kingsguard in tow not far behind. The king himself was behind on horseback. The king had raised ten thousand Crownlander men to march west with him, and soon they would be joined by much bigger armies coming from all around the Seven Kingdoms, from the Vale to Storm's End. Barristan was doubtful the Dornish would play any part in this war unless directly attacked. The Lannisters and Tyrells would no doubt have the majority of soldiers necessary to counter the invader, but without their king to 'protect' his vassals, it would be too much of a risk to ignore them. The Tyrells were still bitter about losing the rebellion, despite how little they contributed, and Barristan understood the risks he had bringing the king here.
"Your grace." He bowed to his now cheerful king. "My sword is yours." The other four members of the kingsguard shared his bow. Two more, Meryn Trant and Blount we're back in King's Landing with the Queen and Prince. "We are about to enter the Westerlands, and it would seem that to meet with Lord Tywin is essential at this time."
Robert stood up from his makeshift wooden throne. No iron for sure. "Lord Tywin will wait at my disposal, not me at his. I told you I want Ned by my side when we go, and that is exactly what will happen." He looked up toward the north, hopeful that the Stark forces would be coming soon.
"Of course, your grace." Barristan bowed once more to his king, as the latter got up to get more wine. He would normally send for a servant, like Jaime's cousin, Lancel, but it seemed he was fed up of the boy again. Barristan turned to the horizon and looked ahead.
The fields bordering the slim southern Riverlands and the hills of the Westerlands were encamped with many men, and far more were on their way. Barristan could already see a larger red army heading up in the distant hills, though he remained silent. It reminded him of fighting against Melys 'the Monstrous' Blackfyre, as the Lannister forces, then the laughing stock of Westeros, charged into battle. Once again they were led by a proud lion, though he was nearly forty years older.
"How long will it be until the enemy reaches here?" Ser Oakheart asked.
"My father knows the Westerlands better than any of you," Ser Jaime responded. "It takes many days for even him to cross here in his armies from Casterly Rock. Any enemy that invades would take far longer, assuming they even make it this far!" This certainly wasn't incorrect given what terrain like this could offer. Hills were never an easy target to attack, but they were to defend. Which is why so many build castles on them. Robert would no doubt take advantage of this if it happened. Barristan hoped it wouldn't come to that. And if the Westerlands are savaged, what of the bounty of the Reach? How many of our countrymen, our smallfolk, our children would perish to foreign armies?
"I have my doubts they would be able to reach this far inland." Barristan responded. "That is certainly true. But what of the Reach? Or the Riverlands? The Greyjoys are fighting hard against the northern fleet, no doubt, but should they fall, there won't be much stopping Seagard from falling to the invaders. And then the forts of the Riverlands could fall one by one to the enemy, leaving King's Landing open to attack." Besides Lord Tully, many of the lords didn't allow their smallfolk in their castles even during the harsh winters, and their endless bickering with one another is what stopped the region from being a power on part with the North or Vale. "The southern fleet is an even greater threat, if the rumours are true."
"If they are true, Lord Commander," Jaime rebutted. "I'm having difficulty believing the situation as it is, let alone these claims their prince rides a dragon or great bird. Whichever it even is!"
King Robert chimed in after coming back, drink in hand. "I bloody hope he does. I'd love to knock them out of the sky and smash him with Fury." The king's mighty warhammer stood next to the makeshift throne, a mighty weapon that only the strongest warriors could effectively yield without staggering. "We should be getting a raven any moment or day, the sooner the bloody better! Redwyne and Hightower still haven't given me anything. And the gods know what Mace bloody Tyrell is doing about all this!" Robert knew it was his duty to go protect his vassals, as any king should, but the usurper was not as keen to work with those who wanted him dead.
The young Lannister lad came, another chalice in hand. "Y-your grace, your drink?"
"You stinking idiot, Lancel!" The king bellowed. "I got my own bloody drink while you were prancing around. Though...it'd be rude to refuse another." He laughed as he grabbed it out of his squire's hand. The queen had insisted her cousin come with the king and her brother as a matter of prestige. Barristan didn't trust how many Lannisters were in King's Landing, and in a way, he felt the battlefield would be safer. Perhaps it would be. Never since the arrival of the Andals had Westeros been this united as a political force. From the Wall to Dorne, the peoples of the Seven Kingdoms were mobilising against an invader unlike any they had seen before.
"Ah, your grace?" Jaime opened up. "It seems my father is close now." They turned. Indeed, the army was moving quickly, and it would be mere hours before Barristan was to meet Tywin again, for the first time since the Sack of King's Landing. He did not look forward to it.
The lord of Casterly Rock was dressed in majestic golden armour, his helm shaped as a lion. His sword lay in its guard, and by him were two guards and a lesser Lord of the Westerlands, likely a near vassal. Barristan didn't remember all of the Westerlands lords, just those most important to Tywin. Compared to the Lion of Lannister, he seemed very meagre in comparison. Tywin looked more of a king than Robert or Aerys had.
"Your grace." Tywin plainly said as he removed his helm, passing it to his squire. "I trust my daughter is safe in the Red Keep, alongside my grandson?" It hadn't been safe for princess Elia and her children, Barristan thought, though he remained silent.
King Robert straightened up. "Indeed, Lord Tywin, she stands safely with Joffrey and the small council in the capital. For now, we should plan the rest of our defensive. What's the situation in the west coast?"
Tywin unloaded a scroll. "Skirmishes in the Sunset Sea aside, Fair Isle faces constant threat, as there have been many attacks, and I imagine that by now, the island may already have fallen. In contrast, we know the invaders faced a defeat off the coast of Saltcliffe. We have managed to capture one of their commanders. The invasion however is continuing as the other generals are continuing to raid the isles. It is said they have great warhorses they plan to unleash on the mainland. We haven't heard much from the Tyrell's besides the Arbor being sacked and the Shield Isles being assaulted. It would appear they are preparing to assault Oldtown, and then march up the river Mander to Highgarden, though we await better ravens." Barristan noticed Jaime was somewhat relieved that the Westerlands were better off, but he knew little of what the father and son's thoughts were for one another.
The news on the Reach wasn't good at all. He had known many fine men and their families from that region over the years, and they were all at risk from people who supposedly sacrificed people by pulling out their hearts!
"Hmm." The king spoke. "It is worse than I thought. You'd think those damned Tyrell's would have thrown them into the sea by now, but attacking the Arbor was a good move. Good wine, good farmland and the Reach's finest fleet all in one go. It doesn't surprise me they'd attack there first." He overlooked the horizon. "It seems the Reach is where we'll be fighting at this rate. We need a good battle plan before we march. And Ned and Jon. They always know how to help."
"Of course, your grace." Lord Tywin nodded and bowed. "May I have a word with my son?" The king looked to Ser Jaime and gave him approval. The Lion and his eldest cub went off.
"It shan't be long, your grace, until the other armies arrive," ser Oakheart stated, gripping his sword.
"I bloody hope so." The king bellowed and laughed. "I hope the local lords can offer some better hospitality than this! And some nice whores! I'm their king!" Barristan sighed to himself. Rhaegar wouldn't have debased himself to such a level if he was king. Then again, both men fell for a northern woman and it tore the realm apart. Barristan knew that if he did not advise the king well, these invaders would tear them apart. Now came the long waiting before Jon Arryn and Eddard Stark arrived.
It was five days since Tywin's host arrived, and now the Starks, the Vale and some of the Tullys had finally arrived, along with bannermen from Harrenhal. In total, some thirty thousand men or more were here by Barristan's reckoning in front of him. The Hand, Lord Jon Arryn, and Warden of the North, Eddard Stark were no doubt near the front, ready to great their king.
The king spoke again. "I've been itching for a battle ever since I took the throne. I just wasn't expecting it to come from this direction. I don't think anyone did."
"You are certainly right, your grace." Barristan replied. "The northern armies are almost here, and together we can head to repel the savages at our door." Barristan didn't know these men at all in truth, calling them savages was uncharitable to say the least. He knew from his years of fighting on different lands that many other cultures had their own versions of honour rather than none. Though the tearing out the hearts of enemies was definitely not something he'd think of anything besides the jungles of Sothoryos.
"Indeed." Robert smiles. "There they are!" He looked toward the armies and their figureheads.
Jon and Eddard marched ahead toward the king on their stallions- Ned rode a horse as white as snow, and Jon a silver beast, like his own silver hair. Both unhorsed and came to meet their king, and bowed in unison.
"Get back up! Your king demands it!" Robert shouted. They did as ordered.
"Come ere!" The king bellowed as he caught Lord Stark in a bone crushing hug that Lord Stark hardly seemed suited for. After exchanging pleasantries, he went to Jon Arryn and gave him a solid handshake. "Welcome, friends, I think I need you more than ever right now."
Ser Barristan as lord commander was allowed to stay in the tent while they planned the course of battle. As a senior commander and well regarded among Westeros' armies as a great warrior, he knew his counsel would be held in high regard.
The Hand, Lord Arryn started. "Robert, I received word that your brother has set off from Dragonstone with the royal fleet. They should be at least past Storm's End by now, if not Sunspear." Between them was a table showing a large and detailed map of Westeros. Not as large as that of Dragonstone or the Red Keep, but still of an impressive size, and one that would be useful to assess the situation. Aerys had a similar one in the capital, not that he ever used it in the Rebellion. "It should be days or two weeks before they reach the Arbor to liberate the area."
"Hmm." Robert was not too fond of Stannis, Barristan knew, but he knew him a valuable ally in this conflict. "And Renly and Penrose are too young to contribute as of now. Very well, it seems the west coast and Crownlands shall contribute the bulk of soldiers for this war."
Jon notes. "Not necessarily, your grace. You see my knights of the Vale, and Ned's northern wolves too. I'm sure Lord Penrose and even prince Doran may send reinforcements should things not go as well as planned."
"One is their leaders tried to contact me." Eddard spike out. "He wrote a letter to me." The warden of the North took one out and passed it first to Ser Barristan, then the king. It indeed read in a poor rendition of the common tongue that the man was descended from Brandon the Shipwright, a millennium ago.
"Gods, Ned." The king noted. "They can't have crossed thousands of miles of ocean for bloody revenge for something your ancestor did a thousand years ago, surely? There must be something deeper and more immediate than this. It's clearly just an excuse at this point!" Robert shook his head. "My guess is this is to distract them from a loss they experienced elsewhere. Or perhaps they're desperate. Whatever it is though, we need to drive them back into the sea."
"Of course, your grace." Lord Stark responded. "The North is at your command." He turned to the table. "When will we march west? We can take our men through the Gold Road toward Lanni-"
The king cut him off. "No, Ned, I want you by my side when we go against them. Jon will join Tywin in repelling the northern attack, as will Hoster. We will aid those bloody Tyrell's, Paxter and Stannis will reinforce us by sea. I can't believe I have to work alongside the man who beat me at Ashford-" the king of course referred to Lord Randall Tarly. "But war makes for strange bedfellows, as they say in the Citadel."
Barristan stepped up. "Your grace, speaking of the Citadel, is there any word as to their status in all of this. Without the ravens being trained, communications across the seven kingdoms will be hampered beyond belief, and I'm not sure that is a risk we can afford to take now."
"Don't worry, Ser Barristan." The Hand replied. "The ravens from Grand Maester Pycelle say the citadel has already evacuated and is heading up to Highgarden as we speak. It seems we must not waste anymore time here. We'll start marching tomorrow." The king nodded, and lord Stark bowed.
Barristan was a veteran of many conflicts, and had seen many battles and generals succeed and fail. Even though he didn't know this opponent, and the kings he once served were on the other side of the Narrow Sea, he hoped that he could at least die for a noble cause in protecting the people of Westeros from an invader unlike any other.