Castle Lychester stood tall and proud in the half-light, jutting up boldly against the shimmering waters of the Red Fork through trees and undergrowth.
As fortifications went it was an old, crumbling seat, the decrepit property of a decrepit lord, but for a gathering such as this there was no place better.
A way's away from the keep was a hatch opening carved into the stone, obscured by grass and overgrown bushes on all sides. They found it unlatched and easily removed. To the uninformed interloper the opening might seem like the forgotten entrance to a storeroom or strongroom of some sort, but everyone here tonight knew very well what lay beneath. Underfoot sprawled a small array of chambers and corridors, and no doubt a passage or two stretching back to both riverbank and castle.
A good place to store food - an even better place to hide, he thought.
Ned Dayne slipped down first, followed by Swampy Meg and her sister, Green Gya. He followed next, leaving it to Anguy to close the passage behind them.
Undetectable to those above ground men were already deep in congress below, mixing words and secrets with what poor excuse for ale and wine Lord Lychester could provide. The sad old man was not present, they were glad to note. Less fortunate was the lack of chairs - the few available were already occupied and the majority stood huddled over the table. Bar a few cursory looks of suspicion and disinterest, and some ruffling of Ned Dayne's golden locks, none stopped their chatter or moved to herald their arrival.
"Lady Stoneheart will not send her strength," the pink wizard was repeating, but the Blackfish beside him seemed to grow more impatient and displeased with each passing second.
"Tell this Lady of yours the Freys will still be there the day after," barked the old trout. He doubted the old man had had to jump down into the oubliette like they had. No doubt he had come in comfortably, through some trapdoor in the castle itself.
"M'lady knows," countered the wizard, "it is not for them she stays behind. Sevenstrings says Jaime Lannister told the Freys to send down all their prisoners. That's Greatjon Umber and Marq Piper and others besides, ripe for the picking. Lord Edmure-"
"Bah!" the Blackfish did not seem a man to measure his thoughts, not even in a council of men with less reason than him to care. "Lord Edmure did not know what we were up against when he agreed to your plan. You tell your Lady if she cares a rotten egg for Stark or Tully or killing Freys she'll step to heel and bring every man she can spare to us! Without Edmure..." He shook his head, grumbling.
The man doesn't know. We're talking about his blood, and he doesn't know.
An uneasy silence hung over the room. He wondered how many others were thinking the same fearsome thought, and then what orders Mother Merciless had given on the matter. The Blackfish would have been told if it was her wish. It would be a foul thing to fall into her power, thought Pello, and so he bit his tongue and kept his peace.
The silence was broken by young Maester Roone, nurse to Lord Lychester and master of his household. The stripling shuffled past them and even displaced the Blackfish's arm gently, before producing a piece of parchment from underarm. He unfurled the map on the table before them, diligently placing a round stone weight at each corner. One got the impression the youth was quite relishing the opportunity to ponder something other than his Lord's wandering mind or whatever was to be prepared for dinner that night. Such boredom made for a most useful ally, as the Forgotten Fellowship and many of their friends had found in recent times. The Maester was careful and not unduly trusting, but there was always a barn and some bread and ale for those who were friends to the smallfolk and old Lord Lychester. The Tyroshi freeriders themselves had made good use of such hospitality, back when the boy Maester took in all their meat to salt and cook. He'd helped them hide their plunder in the Lord's cellar and let them make merry use of the scullery maids. In return they did not touch his Lord's lands and kept them safe from less savoury sorts.
"If they make it to Casterly Rock, we are lost. We will never see Lord Edmure again."
There was fear there, buried beneath the Blackfish's usual commanding tone. And rightly so. The rest went without saying. A captive Edmure Tully meant a headless House Tully: Ser Brynden was an old man and the only known heirs of Tully blood were a frightened girl held at Winterfell and a sickly boy waiting for death at the Gates of the Moon. Pello did not think either one likely to step on Riverlander soil any time soon, let alone to take up arms against Lannister. He'd heard whisper Aegon Bloodborn's men were saying the Blackfish had with him the babe of Robb Stark, a child with right to the fealty of the Riverlords...but Pello did not see how that was any better than Lord Edmure's own child, a little weasel planted in the womb of Lord Walder's daughter. The Lannisters would raise it and train it well at Casterly Rock, he did not doubt.
"They have four hundred men, Blackfish. Four hundred!"
Aye, but there was no two ways about it. How long the Riverlords would keep aiding brigands and outlaws if the name Tully faded out of memory and the Lannisters and Freys brought peace to the Riverlands was anyone's guess. An imprisoned Lord Edmure was a stumbling block to them all. Freed from captivity, he might rally the Riverlands and even decry the half-Frey whelp as someone else's bastard if need be.
"It will not be long before they make it to the Golden Tooth," offered the Maester. "If ought is to be done for our Lord Tully, now's the time."
"I was there at the Battle of the Camps," Pello piped up. "Might be we can do the same 'ere. Take 'em unawares at night, kill the sentries, get in there and rescue m'lord before they even know what's what."
"Four hundred men cannot hide easy," offered Green Gya. "Easy to track and find and confuse too."
"Four hundred men cannot move quickly either," noted her sister. "We can overtake them no problem, hit them from any side we like."
"We don't have the numbers," the knight in armour looked solemn, and when he moved his head Pello recognised him as Lord Theomar Smallwood. "Not now, and not without returning to open rebellion."
The notion of Jaime Lannister treating any relapse into rebellion as generously as he had treated Riverrun did not ring true in the slightest. Better the Riverlords pay lip service to King's Landing and lull the lions into a false sense of security, for now.
"We don't have the numbers," concurred Anguy, "and most like Lord Edmure'd be dispatched before we even got to him."
"It'd be for nought..." the boy Ned seemed sad at that.
"Killing Lannisters is never for nought," insisted a northman.
"The wizard could bring 'im back," offered some lost boy, quickly shut up by his companions.
"The Kingslayer's got them well guarded, that's for sure," Thoros reminded, ignoring the poor lad's faith. "Crossbows set on Edmure and the girl ready to pierce a thousand holes in each at the slightest sight of trouble."
The Blackfish ignored them all, tracing his finger on the map. He stared so hard it seemed he might bore a hole through it.
"Blackfish, the risk here is great. Lord Edmure is surrounded. The Westerling girl too. If a single thing goes wrong..."
"They'll be murdered or swept away to the Golden Tooth."
"Could be that'll happen anyway...we should at least try." Lord Lychester's young kinsman seemed eager for a spot of action, having enjoyed nothing but the smell of Freys and shit at Riverrun's siege.
"We should wait, gather our strength. With Lord Edmure free, we can risk rebellion."
"You are a fool if you think that.."
The discussion carried on, but Pello was no longer listening, no more than was the Blackfish. He studied the old man carefully, tracing each cracked line in his skin and the wry slit he had for a mouth.
"...we cannot take the Tooth!" someone repeated.
The Blackfish straightened his back, and nodded to himself. The Bloodborn mimicked his stance, though Pello doubted he knew the Blackfish's plan any better than Pello did.
"Enough."
It took a few instants for all to fall silent and turn their eyes to Ser Brynden, but the man's command of the room was impressive all the same.
"We are done here. Bring every man you can find to the old mill on t'other side of the Red Fork by tomorrow noon."
"Noon?" protested Smallwood.
"My Lord..." another knight Pello did not know and even more fool than Smallwood, if he thought to caution the Blackfish away from whatever he had decided on. "What if we get Lord Edmure killed? There is a real risk..."
The Blackfish looked up at him with scorn and shrugged.
"So be it."