Asher
Edgar Dustin and Owen of Stardom had led twenty men and gone ahead to scout, and it was them who brought back word of the clear road at the crossroads.
"For the inn, Asher?" Ethan Hunt asked.
"Mmm," Asher said deep in thought. He surveyed his army: near three hundred heavy horses, five hundred of light cavalry and the larger part of them footmen. Bill Dustin was leading the men on foot behind him. He wondered how long he would have to stay here and hold the ford. Lord Arryn might be close already. It didn't matter anyway, he'd promised Andrew that he would hold the ford and he intended to do it for as long as he could. "It might be best if we set up our camp and defences as quick as possible," he suggested.
"Might be," said Denys Snow. "We might come against opposition before Lord Arryn arrives."
Jon Locke glowered, a fearsome sight to see. "Why waste time when you have the land in sight?"
"We ought to have that inn, my lord," Finnick the Orphan-Captain said. "Its too good a place to defend against armies twice our numbers."
"Wait for it until you're sure that no one is hiding for us in or around the inn." Reyna Longbraid was a small hard woman, flat as a boy, and no fool.
"Its clear, Asher," Edgar said. "It seems all is well and clear at the inn. We shall ride for the crossroads in peace."
"The cavalry shall come with me to the inn," Asher said. "Send a rider back to Bill telling him to bring the foot here and not in a rush."
He put his heels to his horse and trotted off, his men following him. Edgar and Owen rode with him. Behind them Ethan, Denys and the other High Officers of the Company of the Rose followed on their own garrons.
The officers rode together, and Finnick and Reyna stayed close to each other rather than with the others. It was not a secret in the company that Finnick and Reyna stayed in the same tent most nights.
He could use those distant towers of unmortared stone and post watchers in them to watch the lands around for enemy movements. As their party down the kingsroad, Asher saw that the crossroads was a perfect position to hold command of both the Trident and the Kingsguard. Where the Kingsroad twisted into a narrow causeway with the river close on one side and a short, wide wall of dry stone, Asher Forrester came to find his first strong point. "Owen," he called for his friend, "gather some men and block the road to the north here. A low earthen wall four feet should close off the road, and put a dozen crossbowmen to man the heights." Asher halted his followers there and pointed to Gilden Norrey in their company. "Norrey you have the command here. No one gets in or out without my leave."
The work was quick to start, and the wall started to come up. They trotted past green fields and stone and wooden holdfasts alike, down to the crossroads and the Green Fork of the Trident. Asher saw that the river had quieted a great deal now as it ran quiet and calm nearby. The air was fresh and light without the hint of rain. The day was clear with the sunlight shimmering upon the clear water of the Green Fork. A perfect day for fording the river, Asher thought. He hoped that the weather would not betray them and will stay calm until Lord Arryn comes down by the high road.
Half a league from the crossroads, Asher stopped and called for Finnick. "Erect a barricade of sharpened stakes around the perimeter of the the Crossroads Inn. Man the barricade with pikemen and archers all the time. Spread out our camp behind the line. We will take the inn at the crossroads for the quarters of the high officers for our stay here." He turned to look at the man to whom he gave the command. "And remember no pillaging or raping."
"As you say, my lord." Finnick wheeled his horse about and shouted commands. Men went about to collect logs for the rows of stakes to make a line of barricade. Asher led his party through.
It was near midday when they reached it, at the crossroads north of the great confluence of the Trident.
The crossroads gave him pause. If they turned west from here, it was an easy ride down to Riverrun across the Green Fork. Andrew would be on his way there already, to the defence of Riverrun against the gathering storm. When Winterfell braced for war, so did its allies in the south. With Riverrun so much closer to King's Landing, it was there the wrath of the dragons was directed. The king, his friend was every bit the good man he'd known, came to the help of his allies. Asher could only hope that they were not so late. In the past few days they've been hearing more of fighting in the riverlands with Garlan Tyrell smashing their friends, the river lords all the way from Stoney Sept to Riverrun.
The eastern road was wilder and more dangerous, climbing through rocky foothills and thick forests into the Mountains of the Moon, past high passes and deep chasms to the Vale of Arryn and the stony Fingers beyond. Above the Vale, the Eyrie stood high and impregnable, its towers reaching for the sky. Lord Arryn would be coming down that way, and with him came the eastern lords who owed service to the Arryns for war.
There was life at the crossroads inn, though. Even before they reached the gate, Asher heard the sound: a clamour of steel and gaggle of children.
"Children," Edgar said. "Either they are the old innkeep's or there are visitors." He put his heels into his horse.
"I hope they have a visiting cook as well," Jon Locke said. "A crisp roast chicken would set the world aright."
The inn's yard was a sea of brown mud that sucked at the hooves of the horses. The sound of children was louder here, and Asher saw that there were no horses in the stables. So there are no visitors here. A small boy was swinging from the rusted chains of the weathered gibbet that loomed above the yard. Four girls stood on the inn's porch, watching him. The youngest was no more than two. The oldest, nine or ten, stood with her arms protectively about the little one. "Girls," Ethan Hunt called to them, "run and fetch your mother."
The boy dropped from the chain and dashed off toward the stables. The four girls stood fidgeting. After a moment one said, "We have no mothers," and another added, "I had one but they killed her." The oldest of the four stepped forward, pushing the little one behind her skirts. "Who are you?" she demanded.
"Honest men of King Andrew Stark of Winterfell," Asher told her. "Who are you?"
"The Born King." The girl on the porch was surprised to hear about Andrew. She looked the army behind him over, wary as only a ten-year-old can be. "I'm Willow. Are you here to stay in the inn?"
"Beds, and ale, and hot food to fill our bellies," said Denys Snow as he dismounted. "Are you the innkeep?"
She shook her head. "That's my sister Jeyne. She takes care of the inn when aunt Masha is not here. If you come for whores, there are none. My sister run them off. We have beds, though. More are featherbeds, but some are straw."
"And all have fleas, I don't doubt," said Ethan Hunt.
"Why are here anyway?" Willow asked. "You don't look like you are here to stay."
"Do you question all your guests this way?" Edgar Dustin asked.
"We don't have so many guests. Not like before the war. It's mostly sparrows on the roads these days, or worse."
"Worse?" Asher asked.
"Thieves," said a boy from the stables. "Robbers."
"All these children," Asher said to the girl Willow. "Are they your . . . sisters? Brothers? Kin and cousins?"
"No." Willow was staring at her, in a way that he knew well. She doesn't trust me and I cannot fault her. Even I wouldn't trust a man at the head of an army if I were in her place. Willow continued. "They're just . . . I don't know . . . the sparrows bring them here, sometimes. Others find their own way. You still have not answered what you want?" the girl Willow asked again.
"We don't need much from you, my lady," Asher said. "In the name of King Andrew Stark, Lord of Winterfell and King in the North, I, Asher Forrester, High Commander of the Company of the Rose, take command of the crossroads."
At that a lithe and brown haired girl appeared through the door behind Willow. Jeyne Heddle was a pretty girl, not much older than thirteen with a shy but lively smile. "I beg you, my Lord," she said, "please take your business elsewhere. There is nothing for you her but little children."
"We mean no harm for you, my lady," Asher promised. "We are in need of a dry bed and a warm fire. All we require is a roof on top of our heads and a little food to sate our hunger."
"But, my Lord, we don't have rooms to house all of you here," said Jeyne.
"My men will settle themselves in the camp around your inn," Asher informed her. "Just provide what you can for us."
More children appeared as if by magic; ragged boys with unshorn locks crept from under the porch, and furtive girls appeared in the windows overlooking the yard. Some clutched crossbows, wound and loaded.
"Gods, we ought to stay back, Asher," Owen laughed.
"Wat, you help them with those horses," said Willow. "Will, put down that rock, they've not come to hurt us. Tansy, Pate, run get some wood to feed the fire. Jon Penny, you help the man with those carts. I'll show them to some rooms."
Boys emerged hesitantly from the stables to see to their horses. Asher dismounted and gave up his horse to one of them. He ruffled the thick mop of the boy's hair with a smile as the boy took grip on the reins.
In the end they took ten rooms for the high officers of his company, each boasting a featherbed, a chamber pot, and a window. Asher's room had a hearth as well. A little boy brought in some wood to keep it burning.
When he came down for supper the common room was crawling with children. Asher tried to count them, but they would not stand still even for an instant, so he counted some of them twice or thrice and others not at all, until he finally gave it up. He went outside to look at the status of his army.
Outside his camp spread over leagues. The common men camped out in the open, but the lieutenants had thrown up tents, and some of the officers had erected pavilions as large as houses. Asher saw that the violet roses hanging from pikes and staffs all around the camp. Thin fingers of smoke rose from hundreds of cookfires, mailed men sat under trees and honed their blades.
Soon the common room of the inn was changed into their war council as the other officers arrived. They had pushed the tables together in three long rows, and men and boys alike were wrestling benches from the back. The older of the boys in the inn were no more than ten or twelve. It was Willow shouting all the orders to them, as if she were a queen in her castle and the other children were no more than servants. If she were highborn, command would come naturally to her, and deference to them.
Outside, the last light of day was fading. Inside, Willow had four greasy tallow candles lit and told the girls to keep the hearthfire burning high and hot. The boys helped his men with building the barricade and bringing in their supplies of salt cod, mutton, vegetables, nuts, and wheels of cheese, whilst Jeyne repaired to the kitchens to take charge of the porridge.
"My lord," Finnick said, entering the common room. "The barricade you'd asked has been erected."
Asher took his seat in a chair, and gave a long at him. "Get Flint's archers occupy the towers in the land around the inn and ask them to keep watch."
"Will do," Finnick said.
"Has Bill Dustin arrived with the foot yet," Asher asked Barton.
"No," Barton said. "Our riders say that he'll be here soon."
"How is the war going?"
Finnick answered. "The men of Riverrun say, Ser Edmure had scattered small troops of men along his borders to stop our raiding, and Ser Garlan and his Reachmen are routing most of them individually before they could regroup."
"Our maester has heard that Ser Garlan has smashed the Lords Vance and Piper at Tumbler's Falls," Barton said. "Lord Hoster has massed his Riverlords under the walls of Riverrun. Our scouts say that Tyrell will soon come to meet the lords of the Trident under the walls of Riverrun.
"What of His Grace?" Asher asked.
"We haven't heard anything from his grace, yet," Barton admitted. "He will be on his way to Riverrun already."
"If the Arryns come forth to join us, we could ride for their aid in no time," Asher said. "Keep a close watch to the south. I don't want to be surprised by any army. "
"We are camped in a strong spot," Rayna Longbraid said. "With the advantage of encircling any opposition against the river we are safe here."
"Doesn't matter," Asher told her. "It never hurts to be too careful."
So when it was done, Asher went back to his room. He had spent too much time on horseback that he had been wishing that featherbed for days. Sleep came easier than anything.
He was deep in sleep but a terrible sound woke him at once. Asher sat up on his pallet with her heart thumping.
Before he could go back to sleep again, the sound came shuddering through the night—only it was clear in his ear this time, it was Kent blowing his hunting horn from the south barricade, sounding danger. In a heartbeat, all of them in the inn were pulling on clothes and snatching for whatever weapons they owned. Asher pulled on his doublet and ran for the gate as the horn sounded again, sword in hand. As he dashed past the front door of the inn, his men were already rushing towards the barricade from where the alarm came. Asher stopped and looked back. Jeyne Heddle and her sister Willow were holding a group of whimpering children together "Go and hide inside," he told them quickly and plunged on. By then he could hear horses and shouts away from the camp.
He scrambled up through the camps. The men were all around him now, shouting and cursing. Asher had to wedge through the mass of his men. He shouted for them to quiet. "Get into your ranks," he shouted loud enough to be heard over the ruckus. "Get ready for battle."
When the order was somewhat restored in the camp he wedged on his toes to see over the gathered men. For a moment he thought the kingsroad was full of lantern bugs. Then he realized they were men with torches, galloping between the trees and hills. He saw an oak go up, flames licking at the belly of the night with hot orange tongues as the branches caught fire. Another followed, and then another, and soon there were fires blazing everywhere.
Edgar pushed his way up to him, wearing his helm. "How many?"
Asher tried to count, but they were riding too fast, torches spinning through the air as they flung them. "Hundreds," he said. "Thousands, I don't know. It is no mere foragers." Over the roar of the flames, he could hear shouts. "They'll come for us soon."
"There," Edgar said, pointing.
A wooden cart covered in flames moved between the burning tents toward the holdfast. More followed the first one quickly, breaking the lines of his rallied men. Out in the distance, across the wooden barricade, two long columns of armoured men rode towards them. Firelight glittered off metal helms and spattered their mail and plate with orange and yellow highlights. One carried a banner on a tall lance. He thought it was black and red, but it was hard to tell in the night, with the fires roaring all around. Everything seemed red or black or orange.
The fire leapt from one tree to another. Asher saw a tree consumed, the flames creeping across its branches until it stood against the night in robes of living orange. Everyone was awake now, manning the barricades or struggling with the frightened animals below. He could hear Bill Dustin shouting commands.
If the riders gets through to their disordered camp it would certainly be a bloody massacre. "Get the barricade up," Asher shouted. "Block the road."
His men were quick to respond. The barricade was heaved up forcing the oncoming riders rein up before the sharpened stakes in fear of impaling themselves through the stakes. Though some were not so lucky as their counterparts as they were too close and fast to stop their mounts in time. The impact of the quick stop by the riders on the front was met wholly by the men in the rear as they smashed against the riders on the front out of control.
"Barton!" Edgar shouted to his friend beside him. "Gather the remaining archers and take position at the top of the inn. Pick out their men one by one."
Asher moved for the barricade to the south. "To the gate with me!" he shouted. "To the King."
"To the king!" His men picked up his cry and followed him. "To the king!"
"Asher," Edgar called. "We need to gather the cavalry else they will ride us down."
"Go to my uncle," Asher told him. "Rally as much men as you can. Then encircle the inn by the hills to the east and break them in their flank. Owen and Hunt go with him. Denys and Roger with me."
When Edgar left with Owen and Ethan Hunt, Asher led his ordered men to the weakened barricade to the south. Chaos had ensued by the barricade when they arrived there. Already there were men getting over the barricade to fight with his own. Kill Bill was cleaving anyone who dared get in range with his battleaxe. He could see that more men were coming over the stakes and some were even engaged in pulling them off. Asher rushed to his men's aid.
All around them, the land burned. The night air was full of smoke, and the drifting red embers outnumbered the stars. Asher scowled. "Don't let them get past this barricade. Hold it. Hold it in the king's name."
The knight at the head of the mounted riders raised a lanquid fist, and spears and arrows came hurtling from the fire-bright shadows behind. A spear hit a man who was right beside him, and Asher wondered if he had been the target. The spearhead went in his throat and exploded out the back of his neck, dark and wet. The man grabbed at the shaft, and fell boneless on the ground.
More spears and arrows flew. Asher yanked down Denys and Roger and stayed in the ground until it was clear. From across the stakes came the rattle of armor, the scrape of swords on scabbards, the banging of spears on shields, mingled with curses and the hoofbeats of racing horses. A torch sailed spinning above their heads, trailing fingers of fire as it thumped down in the dirt of the yard.
"Blades!" Asher shouted. "Spread apart, defend the barricade wherever they hit. Gerren, Finnick, hold the west end by the river. Gildon, hold the east."
Asher raised his sword and pushed for the center.
He hacked the arm of a man as his hand grasped the top of the stakes trying to vault over it. He saw it by the light of the burning trees, so clear that it was easy to find men at the other end of his sword.
He slashed down hard on the man who came for him from his left, and the castle-forged steel bit into the gap in his armor where his neck met with the shoulder. Blood spurted, and the man sank down, and another took his place. He too vanished as suddenly as he had appeared. "Behind!" Roger yelled from his right. Asher whirled. A bearded and helmetless man raised his sword to spilt Asher into two. As he came into range, he stepped aside from the steel and drove the point of his sword at his chest into his heart.
The enemy army was well led and numerous, the sharpened stakes were being pushed off the ground. It's only quite some time now before it falls entirely and there seemed to be no end to the foes. For each one Asher cut down or stabbed or maimed, another was coming over the stakes right for him. Denys was fighting a knight in the spiked helm with silk plumes, and Roger was shoving the point of his dirk through the visor of another knight he had dismounted. Every time Asher looked up, more torches were flying, trailing long tongues of flame that lingered behind his eyes. He saw a red dragon on a black banner and thought of Rhaegar, wondering if he was here thinking that Andrew would be here. When four men assaulted him with axes, Asher danced around them until he killed two and the other two were lost in the mass of men. To the west Finnick wrestled a man into the river, and Gerren was drowning a knight in armor. Rayna Longbraid's axes were finding men all around her until a knight with yellow skulls and red lips painted upon his shield opened her face in two with his sword. Everything smelled of blood and smoke and iron and piss, but after a time it seemed like that was only one smell.
He never saw how the barricade was destroyed, but it was pulled off, lying on the ground as no more than mere sticks. "Back to the inn!" Asher screamed "Pull back."
When he led his men back to the inn, busy fighting the pursuing foes, Asher looked past them, and saw steel shadows rushing through the burning trees, firelight shining off mail and blades, and he knew that Edgar had rallied his cavalry. He didn't hope for much, thinking a little bit of time would be enough to rally his men again to hold the last stand against these knights of Rhaegar Targaryen. The night rang to the clash of steel and the cries of the wounded and dying.
He saw Edgar's charge did nothing but to harass the long column of steel. But it did give him enough time to gather his men into a dense ring with every man's back guarded by the other. When Edgar's horsemen were chased off into the trees from where they had come, he knew it was done.
It was his doing, Asher knew. To bring all these men to their deaths, it was his doing. He had wanted it more than anything and in the end he has gotten his wish- to die fighting for his friend.
The stable was on fire, he saw. Flames were licking up its sides from where a torch had fallen on straw, and he could hear the screaming of the animals trapped within. He could only wish that Jeyne and her orphans were safe and will be safe for a long time as the war would not end with this battle.
As he looked forth he saw the eastern sky grow pale. The air was swirling with smoke, the back wall of the stables was a sheet of fire ground to roof. The horses and donkeys were kicking and rearing and screaming. The poor animals, Asher thought.
The long column of riders moved between the burning tents toward the Crossroads Inn. The riders reined up in front of the inn before them.
"Who's got your command?" Asher asked.
"I do." The reflections of burning stable glimmered dully on the armor of his warhorse as the others parted to let him pass. He was a tall man with a red salmon on his shield, and ornate scrollwork crawling across his red steel breastplate. His greathelm was adorned with a leaping fish crest. When he took it off, a face bold and strong eyed his ragged party. "Ser Myles Mooton, brother of Lord William Mooton of Maidenpool, Commander of the royal forces of King Rhaegar Targaryen." He had a high voice, fit for a commander. "In his name, I command you to lay your arms down and surrender."
"Can't do," Asher told him. "I follow a different king."
"There is but one king in this realm," Ser Myles said. "Drop your weapons and show us you are no traitors."
"Traitors, my arse," Bill Dustin said and rushed for Myles Mooton, limping slightly.
Mooton waved his men off when they moved to interfere. He blocked Kill Bill's savage slash to his head with his sword and smashed the fish crested greathelm against Bill's head, knocking him down.
"I wish for no more unnecessary bloodshed," Ser Myles said more to them than to Bill Dustin. "The day is ours. Yield."
Asher eyed him coolly. "Told you, can't do."
The knight with the skulls and lips shield who killed Longbraid rode his horse forward. ""Surrender, in the name of the king!" he said. "Or die."
"Are you deaf, man," Asher told him. "Did you not hear a single I spoke right now."
"I command you once more, in King Rhaegar's name, surrender and spare us of this unnecessary massacre," said Ser Myles.
For a long moment Asher considered. Then he spat. "Don't think I will."
"So be it. You defy the king's command, and so proclaim yourselves rebels."
"Do your worst," Asher shouted back.
Ser Myles wore his helm and mounted his horse. "Kill any man who holds a weapon and spare anyone who yields," he told his men. "I thought to-"
A sudden and terrible sound interrupted him. From the ridge to the east, the sound of the warhorn rang out. The Targaryen men, preparing to charge at them, stopped at that sound to look for the news in the dawn.
All that heard that sound trembled. Back from the ridges in the east the echoes came, blast upon blast, as if on every cliff and hill a mighty herald stood. But on the yard his men looked up, listening with wonder; for the echoes did not die. Ever the horn-blasts wound on among the hills; nearer now and louder they answered one to another, blowing fierce and free.
There suddenly upon a ridge appeared a rider, clad in pale white armor, shining in the rising sun. Over the low hills the horns were sounding. Behind him, hastening down the long slopes, were a thousand men on armored mounts; their swords and spears were in their hands. Amid them rode a man tall and strong. His armor was the blue of skies. As he came to the high road's brink, he set to his lips a great black horn and blew a ringing blast.
"For Arryn!" the Riders shouted. "For the Vale!"
"Lord Jon!" said Asher. "Lord Arryn's come to save us!"
"Come in time," said Roger beside him. 'This is wizardry!"
"The falcon! The falcon!" the Riders shouted. 'The falcon has arisen and comes back to war. For the Eyrie!'
And with that shout Lord Jon Arryn came. His horse was white as snow, white was his shield, and his sword was adorned with a dozen gems. At his right hand was the knight in pale blue armor, his heir, and in his left was a big man armored in brown, behind him rode the Knights of the Vale. The blue banners of House Arryn fluttered everywhere. Light sprang in the sky. Night departed.
'For Arryn!' With a cry and a great noise they charged. Down from the high road they roared, along the slopes they swept, and they drove through the royal host of Rhaegar Targaryen as a wind among grass. Behind them from the south came the stern cries of men issuing from the woods, driving for the enemy. Edgar and his riders. The Targaryen men that were left in the crossroads scattered all around. And the sound of blowing horns echoed in the hills.
On they rode, Lord Jon and his mighty knights. Captains and champions fell or fled before them. No man withstood them, not even the brave Ser Myles or the Knight of Skulls and Kisses. Their backs were to the swords and spears of the Knights of Vale and their faces to the river or the trees. Asher laughed in joy as great wonder had come upon them with the rising of the day.
So Lord Jon rode from his high road and clove his path to the crossroads. There the company halted. Light grew bright about them. Shafts of the sun flared above the eastern hills and glimmered on their spears and swords.
Darkness was under them. Between the woods and the Trident now scattered the proud host of Rhaegar, in terror of the Lord Jon Arryn and his knights. They streamed down from the kingsroad until all above the destroyed barricade was empty of them.
Author Notes: So the Knights of the Vale come to the rescue in their trademark last moment saving the day manner. I hope you guys like it. Leave a comment and let me know what you think. I would love to hear your thoughts. As always thanks for reading my story. Have a nice day and stay safe.