CATELYN
The castle rose out of the morning mists. Smallfolk still toiled in the surrounding fields, wet and sweet with dew and last night's rainfall. It was not the greatest of keeps, being smaller by far than Bitterbridge and not even a shadow of Winterfell, but fat cows were grazing on the rolling hills of green and gold and some smallfolk were busy picking raspberries. It was a sad thing to see a sight like this, and it made Catelyn oddly resentful. The Reach remained unspoilt and happy, while, to the north, her father's kingdom burnt.
A tall young knight, flanked by men-at-arms, issued from the castle's gate to greet her. "My lady, sers," he said, nodding to Catelyn and her escort, "I am Ser Quentyn Morly. What brings you to Berryhill Keep?"
"We are passing through, ser, to Riverrun. I am Catelyn Stark, Lady Dowager of Winterfell, sent by my son to treat with King Renly, whom we found at Bitterbridge." She chose not to mention that she had been unsuccessful and her son still claimed kingship himself. That could have been unwise. "My highborn companions are Ser Wendel Manderly and Robin Flint, of my son's vassals, and Ser Colen of Greenpools, of your king's."
She would not be expected to name her son's or Renly's guardsmen.
"My lady of Stark," Ser Quentyn acknowledged with a low bow. "If it please you, you are past half the way to the goldroad. My lord uncle would be honoured if you were to take food and shelter here."
"We must not tarry long, for we are expected at Riverrun," answered Catelyn, "but I accept your lord uncle's hospitality."
The knight and his guardsmen escorted her to Berryhill Keep's gate, where servants took their cloaks and packages, grooms led their horses to the stables and they put up their swords on the wall. The lord who bade them enter was a portly man with greying hair and a kindly smile.
Once Catelyn had washed and rested, a maid directed her to Lord Morly's table. He had not stinted her. There was a veritable feast before them, with a stuffed goose speckled with peppers and small potatoes as naught but the first course.
"You have my gratitude for your hospitality, my lord," Catelyn told Lord Morly as she dug into the roast goose. "The ride has been long and without a road to spare the horses. Your open-handedness has been most welcome."
"Of course, my lady. I could do no less. I do hope my nephew was suitably courteous as he greeted you. He is rather overzealous sometimes."
"Certainly, my lord of Morly, he was the very model of gentility."
"Morly?" The lord chuckled. "My apologies, my lady of Stark, I see how you could have come to that conclusion. My name is Edric Berryhill. Young Quentyn is my sister's boy." When her eyebrows raised, he added, "Her husband died in the Vale of Ranimon when Lord Tyrell threw back Ser Stannis Baratheon's army as he closed in on Storm's End, so I took in her and her children and they have lived here ever since."
Of course. It was uncommon for a woman and her children to live with her lord brother, but if it had happened, that would surely be why. Mace Tyrell's advance on Storm's End in the name of King Aerys during the rebellion had been far from the bloodiest of campaigns, with most of the strength of the stormlands serving under Robert Baratheon further north, but even the least significant of wars claimed lives aplenty.
"Are they well?" she asked.
"As well as they could be, I suppose," replied Lord Berryhill. "He regards me almost as a father, which is all to the good, as he is all I have for a son. I have only daughters, you see, my lady. I've a mind to marry him to my eldest; House Morly is only a House of landed knights, and his father was a second son in any case, so he can take my name. It wasn't quite an equal marriage, but my goodbrother was a good knight, my sister was fond of him, and he seemed sure to be rewarded with some lands for his bravery serving King Aerys. Well…"
He gave an eloquent shrug. Catelyn pitied him. No doubt there had been many such men, bold young men who had sought to win fame, fortune and lands to pass down to their children, picking the sure bet of taking the side of a royal dynasty that had reigned for three centuries and had never been defeated by rebellion… and they had failed.
"My sister still grieves for him, but her children have prospered. Her son will be Lord Berryhill after me and her daughter will have a good marriage. He wants to ride out too, you know, as his father did, with King Renly, but I have forbidden it. Even the king forbade it; he commanded the Houses whose lands lie too close to the west to retain our men for ourselves, lest the westermen easily overthrow us. Hence why my peasants have been called to arms and my levies are training, spoiling my lands' quiet tranquillity."
Catelyn had to bite her tongue so that she could not reply. She had not even noticed Lord Berryhill's levies training. He thinks of this serene scene as a breach of tranquillity? Let him see the tranquillity of the lands of the Trident, my family lands, which Tywin Lannister's dogs are burning.
Lord Berryhill misread her expression. "Yes, war is trying, for all of us. Yet I think he still resents me for depriving him of the opportunity to go out and win honour and glory at the king's side."
That story was a resonating one. "Your way is better for him, my lord," she said in a low voice. "Only young men think of war in such glowing terms. We older folk are wiser in that at least." Because they are the knights of summer, and winter is coming.
There was a long silence. The goose was good, and so were the other courses. Catelyn savoured the warmth of her seat and the soft, delicate tastes and smells of a good meal. There was little comfort on the road.
"Speaking of Lord Stannis," Lord Berryhill said suddenly, "I don't suppose you've heard word? The king sent a raven which arrived only yesterday."
"Lord Stannis has sailed from Dragonstone?" Catelyn was suddenly alert.
"He has," said Lord Berryhill, "but not to King's Landing."
What?!
Lord Berryhill saw the expression on her face. "'Tis a very queer affair. Only eleven days past, some puffed-up prancing courtier came into King's Landing at the dead of night to bring some tidings to the queen and her Imp Hand. He said Selyse Baratheon, Lady of Dragonstone, had come to the Eyrie with a delegation of Narrow Sea lords, calling herself a queen, and Lady Arryn had welcomed her and even called her 'Your Grace'. They were negotiating for days and seemed close to agreement when he left the Eyrie. All this, he said, took place only a shade more than a moon before the time of his arrival. Of course, the queen told him to keep quiet, but the man's a fool desperate for his name to be heard of, so by the very next morning half the city had heard tell, and the news came to King Renly by a trader's ship in the stormlands and a raven shortly afterward. Then, though his strength seemed to be in the Vale, a fast rider came from Storm's End to tell the king Lord Stannis has landed with the royal fleet and his army and has laid siege to his brother's seat."
Storm's End? Catelyn felt as if she had been punched in the gut. Lord Stannis has not moved against the Lannisters; he has moved against Lord Renly!
"'Tis plain to see that Lord Stannis's delegation in the Eyrie failed, but everything changed so quickly. Going by the times the courtier and the rider told of, Lord Stannis landed at Storm's End less than three weeks after the court of the Eyrie were convinced Lady Arryn was about to march behind him. It must have taken a couple of days for a raven from the Eyrie to reach him, and even if the weather were kind, a week or thereabouts to sail to Storm's End. That leaves naught but a week and a half or less. Now, I'm no sailor, my lady, and I cannot speak for ships, but it surely took more than a week and a half to call the banners and train the levies of the dozen small Narrow Sea islands that are Lord Stannis's domain. He must have known Lady Arryn's mind better than we or the Lannisters did; he must have already been prepared to strike against King Renly if his delegation failed. Even if Lord Stannis set sail as soon as he heard tell of the refusal, that means Lady Arryn went in under a fortnight from warmly discussing alliance with Lady Baratheon to denying her entirely. A queer affair indeed."
Oh, Lysa. Catelyn knew exactly what had happened. Her poor sister had been half-mad with grief and fear already when she last had spoken to her. Lysa must have been torn between her obsessive love for her son, the spoilt sickly little boy to whose faults she had blinded herself, and her desire to protect him. She had wanted him to be king, then, when something reminded her that if so he would have to leave the Eyrie, she had snatched him away like a small child with a toy it refused to relinquish.
Nonetheless, she said, "That is grave news indeed, my lord of Berryhill." Cersei Lannister is laughing herself breathless! If Lords Renly and Stannis were fighting each other, the Lannisters would have free rein to wield all their ill-gotten power against her son. And Lord Renly would come; Catelyn had no doubt of that. Not because he needed to defend his seat, though he would surely claim that as his motivation. Nor because of any insult to his honour. No, it would be because of exactly what Lord Renly had told her. He had no desire to stop the conflict between Houses Stark and Lannister if both refused to bow to him. Far better for him to let them slay each other's men and burn each other's fields and weaken each other enough for one side to accept his overlordship or, failing that, for him to swoop in and destroy them both, needing scarcely to lift a finger. Poor, foolish Lord Stannis, who for all his determination and his prowess in battle at sea was not wise in the ways of men, had given him the perfect excuse to do what he wanted: to fight another war and delay his assault on King's Landing, abandoning Houses Tully and Stark to fight the Lannisters alone. And Lord Stannis would lose; she had no doubt of that either. Lord Stannis might have expected to face only a small part of Lord Renly's strength, which he could perhaps defeat if he were bold and clever, while the rest of the great host headed for King's Landing, but Lord Renly would give him no such chance; he would come to Storm's End with all his strength and shatter Lord Stannis's army before heading back, as slowly as possible, towards the capital.
"It is," said Lord Berryhill. "Lord Stannis is a madman. He would have done better to swear fealty to his royal brother and accept his overlordship; then he could have kept Dragonstone and perhaps even gained Storm's End if the king were generous. Instead he is about to die. Nonetheless, I suppose it couldn't be avoided. The man's stubborn enough to put an ox to shame—" abruptly she recalled that Lord Berryhill had probably served under Lord Tyrell as the Reachmen besieged Storm's End— "and he has a peacock's pride. He believes himself better than the other men in the realm calling themselves kings because by law he is King Robert's rightful heir."
"How so? Joffrey is King Robert's rightful heir, and Prince Tommen after him. That is the law. Lord Stannis is no less a traitor to the lawful king than his brother or my son, no matter how good our reasons."
"You—" Lord Berryhill seemed honestly shocked. "You haven't heard?"
"I haven't heard what, my lord?"
He scarcely seemed to register the question. "But the first ones arrived more than two moons past… but of course; you must have left Riverrun before then, and no man told you because they all thought you already knew…"
"What is it that I should know, my lord?" Catelyn snapped.
That broke him from his reverie. "Forgive me, my lady of Stark. You shocked me; 'tis all. More than two moons gone, ravens flew from Dragonstone to every great castle in the Seven Kingdoms, all bearing copies of the same letter under the sign and seal of Lord Stannis. Ships soon bore more such letters across the Narrow Sea coast, from the Wall to the Arbour. He claims the queen lay with the Kingslayer. He swears by the honour of House Baratheon that Joffrey, Tommen and Myrcella are Jaime Lannister's get, bastards born of cuckoldry. 'Tis a self-serving lie of course, as Stannis can only be the rightful heir if the old king had no trueborn son."
Catelyn's mind reeled. Would even Cersei be so mad? But she was remembering, fitting pieces together.
"Lord Arryn served as Hand of the King for more than a decade, and for all that time his office had not been filled by a Lannister," Catelyn said slowly. "If it were truly about the power and position of House Lannister, why poison Lord Arryn when they did—for they did; his own lady wife, my sister, fled the city when it happened and sent us a raven accusing the Lannisters of murder—and not a decade earlier and have Lord Tywin take up the position? Why kill my Ned instead of sending him to Winterfell or to the Wall, which may not have provoked such hideous war? That deed did not aid the position of House Lannister; with the Imp free and Joffrey as king, they could have ended their war against House Tully and gained a stable realm with Joffrey at the head of it and Cersei as his regent. Why commit the sins they have committed, if not for a truth the queen could not allow Jon Arryn or Ned to speak? And there is a blacker deed still, my lord of Berryhill. The Lannisters tried to kill my son Bran. He loved climbing, and had a talent for it; he never fell before. After he fell from a window and nearly died while King Robert was at Winterfell, the Imp sent a man to open his throat with a dagger of Valyrian steel."
She uncurled her fingers, showing him the deep scars upon them. Sharply, Lord Berryhill drew in breath.
"A thousand times I have asked myself why, and now I know the answer. There was a hunt the day he fell. Robert and Ned and most of the other men rode out after boar, but Jaime Lannister remained behind, as did the queen." She almost choked with hate. "That must be why he fell, and why they tried to kill him afterwards. Like his father, they tried to take his life because of what he had seen."
Lord Berryhill looked worried. "I fear you fit what you have seen to your idea, not your idea to what you have seen. 'Tis a tale too fine to be believed. Yes, Joffrey is surely an evil king, but there have been many evil rightful kings, my lady. Aegon the Unlikely was as poor a king as the realm has known since the King Aegon before him, yet his son was good Jaehaerys, great bane of the Blackfyres… and yet his son was Mad King Aerys. Joffrey does not need to be the Kingslayer's get to be a monster."
"And yet the Kingslayer's get he is," Catelyn said. "The truth is clear. I am sure of it." But anguish dwelt in her heart. Lord Stannis would never know that there was proof of his purported incest, and Lord Renly might not either. The enemies of House Lannister needed unity but they would not have it. The Baratheon brothers would fight, and one of them and many of their sworn men-at-arms would die, while the Lannisters mocked the gods and gloried in the victory of their sin. Lord Renly and his host had surely begun on their way to Storm's End already. If she attempted to reach there to negotiate a peace, she would only arrive after the battle was done.
Unless… of course. Lord Renly had an army. Armies moved slowly, for they needed not only swift mounted knights but also hosts of men on foot and draft horses and cumbersome wagons loaded with food and other supplies. She was already more than a week's ride away from Bitterbridge, in the wrong direction from Storm's End, but a swift party of riders with good horses could outpace an army with ease. She tried to picture the map in her head. It would be a long ride, and tiring, and inconvenient, but perhaps it could be done. It might take two and a half or three moons for Lord Renly's host to reach Storm's End, though likely not as many as four, and she and her guards ahorse might just reach House Baratheon's ancestral fortress in two moons. It was mad and, in all probability, a fool's hope, but a fool's hope was better than hopelessness.
Catelyn rose. "My lord," she said with a curtsy, "I thank you sincerely for your hospitality, but I needs must ride to the side of your king, with all possible haste. The line between victory and defeat against the Lannisters may depend on it."
Author's Note: Stannis has laid siege to Storm's End; he travelled there straight after he received word from Selyse of Lysa's refusal (he expected that Lysa would refuse, as shown in the chapter from Davos's point of view, though he didn't commit to a Storm's-End-first strategy just in case she accepted). But he arrived there later than he did in canon, as a result. This is the sort of thing I mean when I talk about how information can matter even if it's false information; some characters have acted while under the impression that the Vale was going to march for Stannis, so, even though it eventually didn't happen, the belief is important.