Thank you so much for the mostly positive response. If you have any ideas of improvement for the story please feel free to leave constructive criticism. Today's chapters are slightly longer than usual, so enjoy!

Chapter 9 The Manderly Line

Ahead of them was a dense forest, hidden in the morning mist, blanketing tall dark mountains, with one lonely track winding through and disappearing in the depths of the woods.

'This plan of yours had better be good, brother,' said Jaime Lannister, who had donned a simple shirt of ringmail instead of golden armour. 'I'm not crossing that mountain for nothing.'

'You wound me, Jaime. Name one of my plans that wasn't brilliant.'

'Let's think. That time when you were fifteen, and tried to bring your whores to court, That time when you were eighteen, when you tried to run out to the Free Cities. That time…'

'I said name one,' Tyrion said scornfully.

Jaime grinned. Behind them the sea of Lannister Chivalry had formed into three long lines, all consisting of light horse with no banners. Ser Daven's heavy horse had departed several hours ago, making for the east to launch a fierce attack on the defenders. Jaime and Tyrion had some six thousand horse between them. A quarter of them were knights, looking far less splendid than usual without their banners and lances. The mercenary Ser Bronn's sellswords were in the rear, some of them riding on mules, donkeys, one even rode a zorse. Tyrion's clansmen and their shabby horses were nowhere to be seen: the savages had left yesterday into the woods to scout a path. They had sent back word saying they had found a clearing in the woods and set a camp there.

Slowly the mass of chivalry unwinded into single file and streamed into the woods, Jaime at the van as usual. Their passing was more peaceful than Jaime could ever hope. The track was rough and thin but passable, and the trees blocked most of the snow. In a long strip the Lannister horses winded through the mountains.

Tyrion's pet sellsword Bronn came galloping up. 'Thought I'd join you lot,' said the sellsword, 'when the path's still wide enough for me to come up.' Bronn was a tall man with a weathered face, wearing a leather jerkin so used it looked as if it had been through the pits of hell.

His brother Tyrion scowled. 'I thought I commanded you to hold up the rear.'

'Too damn boring in the rear. Thought I'd ride to the van and have some fun.'

'I fear you'd be sadly disappointed. All parts of a Lannister army are equally boring.'

'Ser,' Jaime asked Bronn, 'I have never truly had the chance to know you. Where have you fought before?' Jaime was curious.

'I've fought here and there. Killed a few right men, got promoted to be a knight.'

'Ser, I've been to Winterfell in the north, Pyke to the west, Sunspear to the south and Lys to the east, but I've never been to a place called here, nor there.'

'Looks like you've found a tough match, Bronn,' said Tyrion.

'Well… I've fought in every place without good plunder, it seems to me.'

They rode on, chatting for several minutes. The track began to grow steeper and the wind grew fierce, snapping at their cloaks as if it was a living thing. The air grew colder and thinner. The Lannister column was forced to slow down.

Before them was a long, deep ravine, with one lonely bridge of planks across, twenty foot long and two foot wide. Jaime jerked up his horse and commanded for the company to halt. 'What do we do now?' asked Tyrion. Jaime could hear the rear of the army murmuring.

'Dismount, and lead our horses across,' he commanded. Seeing that no one was volunteering to lead, Jaime was forced to go first. He dismounted Glory, his warhorse.

The first six foot or so was fine. The planks were neatly nailed into the ground on both sides and was firm enough. But after the six foot, the plank grew slightly narrower. The wind snapped at his clothing, threatening to push him off. When the planks groaned, Jaime's heart stopped beating. 'Father protect me,' he whispered, before he remembered he was in the North: these lands belonged to the old gods. And the gods would most likely push him down than save him.

He could hear his own ragged breathing. He could hear some of the men behind him laughing. They enjoy seeing the Kingslayer being afraid, thought Jaime. Well try to walk over this damn bridge and not be scared, he wanted to roar. Slowly, he carefully walked another step. He could feel the vast emptiness to either side of him. It was as if the world was spinning around him.

The other side caught him by surprise. He quickly walked the last few steps and sat down on the other side, Glory trotted after him. Cheers rose from the men on the other side.

Slowly, ever so slowly the rest of the army began to pass. Tyrion went through fairly nicely, which was not surprising since he did manage to make the climb to the Eyrie twice. Addam Marbrand, Jaime's closest friend, the most daring person Jaime ever knew simply galloped across laughing, his long copper hair streaming. Podrick Payne, Tyrion's squire had to be helped across by Bronn. One idiot lost his balance and crashed screaming down to the depths with two other men, but other than them the Lannister army managed to pass without mishaps, thought it took half of the day.

After a short while of marching they found the camp Tyrion's clansmen made, a ring of tents in a circular clearing in the trees. 'Why does halfman take so long to come?' Their commander, a huge savage in skins demanded, 'Shagga grows tired waiting a day.'

'You try making the trip in an hour,' replied Tyrion.

'This track is flat and smooth. In the Vale is where the mountain tracks are steep.'

The Lannister army rested for a while in the camps before they went on. Jaime in the van rode much faster than he would've liked in a mountain, but he wanted to reach the other side before nighttime. Nighttime was dangerous in the mountains, for there were shadowcats and wolves and Stark assault parties. Three men stationed on this track would be able to bring down three hundred of his own, thought Jaime. Thank the gods the Starks didn't garrison this road.

The path grew wider as the mountains grew flatter, and soon the most part of the Lannister army struggled out to the other side of the Manderly defense line, where the forest ended at a large field of grass. Tyrion Lannister gave a cheer. 'You head for White Harbour, I join Daven, and then it's off to Winterfell,' Tyrion said to him.

Suddenly a warhorn rung, a deep mournful note. The sound came from the east. Jaime glanced east, and saw horrified, an entire army was coming, screaming and shouting.

'Battle positions!' Jaime screamed to his men. 'Flement, your divisions are with me, Addam, you have the right, take the knights.' Jaime glanced at Tyrion. 'Brother. Take your sellswords and Clansmen and hold up the left.' Tyrion nodded and departed, his savages and sellswords after him.

Jaime studied the army. They seemed to be flying the Merman banner. Jaime squinted at them. They were mostly heavy horse, Jaime noticed, but they were in poor battle formations. Most likely they were caught by surprise as well. They caught us in a good time, thought Jaime, a sizable portion of their army was still struggling through the tracks and unaware of the battle. Jaime estimated the Manderlys had about five thousand horse, more than his own and better armed.

A northern warhorn sounded, Aroooooooooo, it went, as cold as chilling as the wind they had just experienced. Jaime commanded the Lannister trumpets to be blown in response. 'Maneuver!' Jaime commanded to his men, 'drive north hard! Then strike south at 'em again!'

Arrows whistled through the air, laying down several of his men. Jaime remembered Tyrion had bought some mounted bowmen. He commanded the Lannisters to return fire. His divisions rapidly galloped north. The Manderly heavy horse did the same, but their speed of their charge was broken. Tyrion's men found high ground and defended it, his savages fighting fiercely. Addam Marbrand had the best men and knights, so he launched a charge into the rear of the Heavy Horse, his sword laying waste as he went. 'Good job!' Jaime shouted to him when they were close enough.

Jaime's horses wheeled around and met the Manderlys in battle. Sword rattled on sword as both sides engaged in bloody battle. Jaime unsheathed his sword gilded with gold, the same sword that had sipped the blood of Aerys Targaryen II. 'For Casterly Rock!' he roared.

Snow began falling over the battlefield, and the two armies fought in a field of white. A fool charged towards him, a lance in hand. Jaime dodged the iron tip. When the Northman tried to ride off and charge at him again, Jaime caught up with him a drove his sword up his chest. The dead man was carried off slumping by his galloping horse.

One of his men was fighting a tall Northman with a Warhammer. Jaime rode forward. Since none of his men had shields or any heavy equipment they were vulnerable before hammers. Jaime galloped forth in aid. 'Die, Lannister!' The Northman slew his soldier and fiercely swung his hammer towards Jaime in a murderous arc, Jaime dodged it nimbly. He was pleased to see his instincts were not dulled by the removal of his hand. 'No, you die.' The tall man fell to the ground.

Jaime had his men gathered and started a second charge. They maneuvered east and struck again in the Manderly rear. The Northmen turned back and started fighting.

The sun was almost set when the Lannister trumpets sounded again, when Lord Viserys Plumm emerged out of the mountains with seven hundred horses that had lagged behind around him, and charged towards the already scattered Stark Host. The sheer impact of his men drove a gap between the Stark host, and men began pouring through, tearing their heavy hammer into pieces. Jaime was pleased to see more men were steadily trickling out of the mountains to join the attack.

The last shards of the Manderlys vanished before their charge much like mist in the morning.

Many words of praise were given to the Lord Plumm that night when they set up a fortified camp. 'The Northmen were trying to make a breakthrough on our side,' Tyrion, cradling a wounded elbow admitted, 'if Lord Plumm didn't distract them we would be dead, I fear.'

'I fear lagging behind is nothing to boast of, My Lords,' Plumm said modestly.

'Jaime!' Addam Marbrand appeared, leapt off his bleeding horse and strode into the tent, 'I've got a captive who has something you might want to hear.' Ser Addam gestured and two knights escorted in a tall fat man. 'This is Ser Wyllis Manderly, son of Lord Wyman, commander of this host. He has useful information on why they were here.'

'Aye,' Ser Wyllis said, he sounded like he was wounded. 'His Grace Robb commanded us to make west with all our heavy horse and attack Lord Tarly's divisions. He said he would be joining us in the attack soon.'

'So the Young Wolf is attempting to trap the Tarly army deep in Northern territory. A pity he did not anticipate us coming. You seemed to have missed a gap in your trenches.'

'We did?' Manderly gaped.

'You allowed six thousand men to pass through your defenses unmolested. Truly, Ser, with commanders as yourself no wonder Robb Stark is losing this war.' Jaime dismissed the captive.

'I suppose you shall have no need of annexing White Harbour now that their main forces are eliminated,' said Tyrion, all we need do is to let Ser Daven through.'

'And then it's off to Winterfell.' Jaime smiled, and called for some wine. He wasn't a heavy drinker, but tonight he decided he would match Tyrion cup for cup.