CATELYN
Her brother was sitting in their lord father's solar, clutching a piece of paper in his hands. His mouth was shut, but his expression as Catelyn strode in told the story well enough. Dark wings, dark words.
She dreaded to ask, but she must. "Whence came the message?"
Edmure's face was stone. "The seat of a small lord in the crownlands, on the southern shore of Blackwater Bay, two days' flight away from here by raven. He's scarce more than a landed knight, in truth, but he is enough of a lord to be granted a ravenry by the Citadel, so father pays him to keep us abreast of events in the capital." Catelyn knew that many Houses of note in the south had such arrangements. He thrust the piece of paper at her. "Here. You may verily listen to it if it doesn't come from my lips."
She opened the letter, noticing that it had a plain, featureless, round wax seal, now broken, and did not mention the sender's name. Her hands trembled as she read.
To an interested party,
The tales are still murky but I daresay you want to know this as soon as you can.
Four days ago, Lord Renly's rebels attempted to cross the Blackwater. The royal fleet thwarted them. Nobody yet knows why. It is possible that Lord Stannis's widow has been deposed. In the battle the king's men unveiled a monstrous new weapon, wildfire in quantities that no man believed possible, thousands of jars. Nobody yet knows how. With it the royal fleet destroyed the bridge the rebels had built over the Blackwater while a large minority of the rebel host was on the north bank. The royal fleet then harassed that part of the rebel host by flinging wildfire. While this was happening, a small part of the rebel host on the north bank went over to the king's side at the very moment the Lord Regent's charge struck. Nobody yet knows who. By these three hammer-blows the rebel host was panicked and driven to rout.
I have never heard before of a battle on this scale that was similarly decisive. Of the host on the north bank, nothing remains as a significant cohesive force. Survivors are scattered in many directions, not in good order.
Rebel losses were extremely severe. From what I have heard, I would place them between ten-thousand and twenty-thousand. I regret that I cannot be more specific. What remains of the rebel host, that part which was on the south bank during the Battle of the Blackwater, has left the city in good order. Nobody yet knows whither.
When the king's host issued from the city with the Lord Regent at their head, the westermen were similar in number to the gold cloaks. Some gold cloaks were left in the city, but not many. The City Watch numbered about seven and a half thousand when the Queen Regent fell. The Lord Regent's pet small council of highborn westermen has not recruited many more, preferring to concentrate on training the many undisciplined men they already had, but they have recruited some. At the time of the battle there cannot have been fewer than about eight-thousand. It appears that the number of western men-at-arms Lord Leo Lefford brought out of the riverlands to reinforce the capital must have been much greater than I thought at the time. I now think it to be about three-thousand, most or all of the force Lord Lefford raised from his own banners when Lord Lannister called the west to arms at the beginning of the war.
I daresay you realise the implications.
It was unsigned.
Catelyn looked up, her face pale. "Mother be merciful," she said, her thoughts a storm-cloud looming. Has Lord Tywin won the war?
"The Lannisters are not," Edmure said curtly. "Have you heard that they've sacked Bowerly?"
"I heard it last fortnight," said Catelyn.
"That was Bowerton, sworn to Wayfarer's Rest. Bowerly, sworn to Willow Wood, is two-hundred miles thence, and is thrice the size; they are alike only in name. Lord Tywin's reavers pillaged everything that wasn't nailed down, put dozens of men to the sword, ravished every woman between six and sixty, carried off all the gold in the sept and burnt it down just to be sure. To Willow Wood! Every day Lord Tywin's men are not thwarted, they dare more. Lord Jon Ryger is furious with me, as well he may. He had little enough loyalty to our House before this war; in Robert's Rebellion he fought for Aerys Targaryen. Now he has fought well for us, in the battle beneath the walls of Riverrun, and what has it gained him? A lord who cannot protect his bannermen is no lord at all."
Catelyn heard what was left unspoken as well as what her brother said. This again? Do I have to remind him? "Edmure, we spoke of this nearly a moon past. You cannot. Your king has forbidden it; that is a royal command."
"My king has been played for a fool," Edmure said. "Did you read Lord S—the informer's letter? Lord Lefford took almost as many men from the Lannister host as Kevan Lannister did. Lord Tywin will have to go west and fight Robb according to Robb's desires, you told me. He wants me to march east and fight him, you told me. I must not play into Lord Tywin's hands, you told me. Of course I must not; none of us wish to aid him. But which of us has been playing into his hands? Not I."
Catelyn said, "I have not—"
"If Lord Tywin meant me to march against him and face him in a decisive battle in the field on his terms, he would have kept his strength with him to fight that battle. He has not. You overestimate Lord Tywin's power and underestimate his cunning. He has sent away not a fifth but a third of his army all the way to King's Landing, far enough that they couldn't march back to the Trident in time to aid him if I left Riverrun. If he truly wants a battle in the field, that deed would be rank folly; and no man with even half his wits thinks Tywin Lannister a fool. With that departure and the losses of the Battle of the Banks, Lord Tywin's strength in numbers now is similar to mine, should I call the banners of the riverlords. It must have been for more than two moons by now, and we never took advantage…" Her brother's lip turned up in disgust. "His cruelty to my people was not a show of strength, trying to lure us to face him in battle and inevitably fall. He merely wanted us to think it was. Lord Tywin knew we were too craven to face him, so he gambled that he didn't even need to keep an army stronger than ours in the riverlands to cow us into inaction. He only needed our fear of it, to allow him to inflict a terrible blow on Lord Renly while we did naught to stop him. And the worst part is: he was right."
Their father's solar fell into a long silence.
"Well?" Edmure demanded, at last. "What's the excuse this time, Cat? Why now should I disbelieve my instincts, my bannermen and my eyes?"
"It was a royal command," Catelyn said again. "I do not think you have yet understood that. Disobeying it is treason."
"It is no treason, Cat. I am not aiding any of the king's enemies. Indeed, I am aiding the king. King Robb's host is wholly mounted, whereas mine is partly foot. He will catch up easily with me if he so chooses, before I draw near to the host of Tywin Lannister. Men afoot move slower than men ahorse, so it makes sense that the foot should start early. This will do naught but defend the riverlands and allow Robb to get to grips with the Lannisters more quickly."
"It will do more than that," said Catelyn, wondering, Sweet brother, can you truly be so blind? "Your host of rivermen is more than twice the number of Robb's host in the westerlands. He cannot afford to lose you. You are forcing Robb's hand."
"Yes, I am," said Edmure.
"You admit it?" Catelyn was incredulous.
"Of course I admit it. But if your son were a better king, Cat—not just that, a better man—"
"You dare?" She raised her voice in fury. "He saved you from Lannister captivity! He saved your life! He saved this family!" She could not believe the audacity.
Edmure's voice rose above hers. "Yes, I dare! If he were a better man, his hand would not need to be forced to defend his people. We do not even ask that he bring his host to the riverlands to march against Lord Tywin, only that he allow us, the men of the riverlands, to do it. If he is willing to stop the monsters raping, pillaging and burning their way across the riverlands, this choice is not treason; it will help him accomplish that more swiftly. And if he is not willing, it is still not treason, for Robb is no true King of the Trident if he cares nothing to defend the lands of the Trident, only to use them. If he wishes to defend the north and not the riverlands, we riverlords will not hinder him from that—we bear no ill-will for the north—but we will defend our people, with or without him, and damned be any king who tells us not to."
He was shouting by the end, and the heated tone of his voice held within it true danger. Catelyn understood, now, how grave the situation was, that her brother was truly contemplating purposeful disobedience.
So she controlled her anger, and she spoke quietly and calmly. "I do not believe you are being fair to your nephew, Edmure." Put the stress on their relation to each other, not to me. "He is father's grandson by blood, and he has honoured that; he has defended the riverlands even at the expense of the north. When the ironmen attacked the north, he could easily have made peace with the Lannisters and abandoned the riverlords to a grisly fate, seeking to defend the north and not the riverlands, as you accuse him of. If he were a man of that breed, that would have spared his northern bannermen much woe, including the Battle of the Banks. Yet he didn't. What does that say of him?"
Edmure's voice lowered, and Catelyn was pleased to hear that, if nothing else. Now her brother sounded more tired than angry. "If that is truly why, it is greatly to his credit; but I do not think so. He has fought a war here, yes, but is he fighting that war for the sake of justice or merely honour and vengeance? Is he here to protect the abused folk of the Trident from Lannister horrors—is that his main purpose—or is it to avenge Eddard Stark?"
"Avenging my lord husband is justice," said Catelyn. She tried to remain calm, but it was hard, so hard; she could not think of anything more obvious in the world.
"It is," Edmure agreed, and for a moment she thought he would stop this madness, till he added, "for you. For House Stark. For a man, a woman and their children. But justice for the teeming millions of rivermen and riverwomen, and all of their children, is a matter altogether different. Cat, you must understand, this is not from any mislike I bear for your son. His heart is noble; I respect that. This is not about ourselves; this is about our responsibilities; I do not think his chosen course is right for those I am sworn to protect."
"You say his course is not right," said Catelyn, "but do you think this idea of yours is any better? It is displeasing to hear we were deceived, but the fact that Lord Tywin has fewer men than we thought does not mean he has few enough men to lose against you. It does not mean marching east against him is likely to succeed."
"How couldn't it?" asked Edmure. "If he retreats into a fortress, such as Harrenhal, or goes south, I can besiege him and mayhaps join with Robett Glover's host, the host that once was Lord Bolton's. That host of northmen would be freed from Lannister siege if it is not too late, if there are any great number of them who haven't starved to death already—more failure to lay at the feet of our inaction. Then, in time, all I need do is wait and he is caught like a hare in a snare between our power and that of Lord Renly. Woe to him then! If he goes north, to take by storm the castles Glover's army holds, he will succeed, there is no doubt of that, but he may lose enough men in the effort that I will defeat him. He cannot go east, 'less his whole host fancies a swim in the Narrow Sea. That leaves only west, if he is convinced he must confront me before I can link up with Glover, and then he gives me what I want: a battle on an open field."
There seemed to Catelyn to be a vast blind spot in her brother's plans. "Suppose you get the battle you want. What if you lose it? Edmure, you are a sweet brother and a kind man and I love you for it… but when it comes to commanding battles you're no Tywin Lannister."
As every man who fought at the Golden Tooth or Riverrun knows, she could have said. She did not need to.
"I may surprise you, Cat," Edmure said, bristling with boyish wounded pride. "But if I don't… even if the worst comes true… if I march and Lord Tywin kills me and destroys my host utterly, that will likely keep him away from King's Landing long enough for Lord Renly to make a second attempt at the capital without him there to interfere, and even if not, destroying a host of near equal size will bleed the Lannister host badly. If my death wins the war, causes Lord Tywin's death and saves the riverlands from his ravaging, I would count that a victory."
Catelyn looked upon him with new eyes. She had never felt less familiar with her brother. Worry suddenly lit her thoughts aflame. How long has he been thinking this? How long has he been meaning, not to win some glorious battle, but to win the war by throwing away his life?
"You would cost Riverrun its lord," she said softly.
"Our father is still lord, not I. I think it is what he would have done."
And then the flash of insight came. "Edmure, you do not need to do this to make him proud of you." He flinched as if she had struck him. "He has always been proud of you."
"For being his son," said Edmure, "not for any merit of mine. I'm not blind to what men say of me, Cat. I know they will always remember my failures. I know how they laugh at me. He's proud of you. You speak like him. You think like him. You act like him. Responsible, dutiful, thoughtful, cautious, cynical of oaths and honours and loyalties, placing the family above all else… No wonder you're his favourite child; you take after him more than Lysa or I ever did. In this, if nothing else, let me do the right thing, the bold thing. Let me act as Hoster Tully's son."
Her brother's tone was alarming her more and more. "Edmure, he will kill you! Let us not delude ourselves with these twisting turns of phrase… 'if the worst comes true'… you know it will happen as well as I. You are no match for Lord Tywin, I am sorry if it hurts your pride but both of us know it is true. He will go through you as easily as his accursed son did. You will lose the battle and your life, and you're a fool if you think that's what father would want! He would want you to live!"
"He may well," Edmure said. He at least had the sense not to deny it. "Bad though that might be, the worst that could happen if I don't march—Renly dead, the Lannisters triumphant, ready to throw all of the strength of the rest of the realm against the riverlands and north—is a fate by far more terrible. Father had a choice to make, once. He could have doomed the Rebellion by staying true to Aerys, seen the Starks and Arryns and even Robert Baratheon dead at the hands of a mad king. It would have been safer, for a little while. But in time Aerys could have decided that anyone was an enemy, killed anyone on a royal whim. In the moment it may be, but in time, the coward's course is not the safer one."
"But there is a safer course," said Catelyn. "You forget; the Rebellion had only two sides, this war has four. That plays to our advantage."
"And what is it?" Edmure sounded more weary than curious. "Hope and pray Tywin goes to the west? The moon has turned thrice since the Battle of the Banks, and a few days more. He doesn't mean to march west. Every man in the world, the king excepted, knows it."
"He might not," Catelyn conceded, sensing that it would be fruitless to attempt again to move her brother from this belief, "but the advantage of having foes who are also foes to each other is that we need not strike them to see them struck. I see no need to spill more Stark and Tully blood; the gods new and old know our family has suffered enough, more than enough. Let us allow Lord Renly and Lord Tywin to fight to their hearts' content. Whoever emerges victorious will be weakened. If the Lannisters defeat and kill Lord Renly, the Tyrells then become our natural allies, for I doubt the Lannisters would wish to let them remain in power after this. Thus we gain friends and lose nothing. If Lord Renly wins, the Lannisters are gone and we may yet negotiate an honourable peace, or if we fight him we are in a much better position for it. Why should we step in when our foes will bleed each other white if we do nothing?"
"That might perhaps put us in good stead for the war," said Edmure, "but what of the reaving of the riverlands? What of Bowerly and the countless other towns and villages and farms and lands that have been sacked and despoiled and burnt, so many I cannot even begin to recall most of their names?"
"Should they have victory, do you think the Lannisters will be kind masters?"
"Of course not!"
"Then we wait. That is war, you see; that is its nature. That is what it has always been. The best thing you can do for them is to end it in our favour, quickly."
But just when she thought he might be listening, Edmure had gone back to his old stubbornness. He shook his head mulishly. "That is not enough."
"What do you mean, it is not enough?"
"It is not enough to see the war ended in our favour," Edmure Tully said, his jaw set. "That may suffice for our family, but not for many other families in the lands watered by the river Trident. You say, we let them be sacked and burnt and raped and pillaged. I say, no. I stop it. I march out with all the strength at my disposal to put an end to it, because that is what I am honour-bound to do.
"You wish to do good for our family, I understand, and you are dutiful in that; but I am heir to Riverrun, regent for father, and that means I have other duties than family. I must care also for the other folk who find themselves imperilled by the clash of kings. There are many men and women who are not of our House but are nevertheless under us, sworn to us, and they too deserve our thoughts and our efforts to protect them. We know them, you see, even if we don't always see it. They are the servants who clean and maintain our castles. They are the farmers that give us our food. They are the men who fight for us bravely when we call them to war, risking their lives, trusting us with their lives. If we care not for those lives when we make our choices, the choices we make and they cannot make… I can't let their trust be misplaced. They are good people, and they deserve more than a lord who cares nothing for them, more than a Tywin Lannister. They deserve a lord who understands that they are his people and just as a king to a vassal, as a father to a son, he has a duty to protect them, come blood, come battle, come the Others from the seven hells."
And so his mind was made.
Catelyn was awake at dawn the following day, looking down from the walls of Riverrun. The castle was alive with excited chatter, from the soldiers to the scullery maids. From what Catelyn could overhear, it seemed that all but herself were glad that the Lannisters were about to be taught a lesson and that Tully inaction had ended at last.
Rarely had she seen such a sight as this. Men-at-arms filled the castle's courtyard; there seemed to be no end to them. Many were the men of Riverrun, and soon there would be more, for ravens and riders had been sent all over the lands of the Trident and more would come and join Ser Edmure as he came. Bright were their leaping trout standards and bright were their helmets and mail, shining as they caught the ruddy light peeking out from the early morning sun.
Bright was their mood, and proudly did they carry themselves, from the meanest man dragging a wagon of food to highborn knights with their destriers and their bold young liege. Today they marched to avenge and help their people. Today they marched with a purpose. Perhaps more than anything, today the long wait ended, hearing of horror and not opposing it; today they marched.
The portcullis rose. The drawbridge fell. Cheered by its people, the great host of the Trident issued forth from Riverrun, to uncertain fate. They streamed from the castle like a ribbon, knights and squires all, lords and smallfolk all, the great captains of horse and the lowly men taking care of the packhorses. All were applauded. In the warm glow of this acclamation, all of them were heroes from the songs.
The army flowed from Riverrun like water, clear and shining, its movement smooth. Long past when others had left and were seeing to their duties, Catelyn remained on the walls. None dared disturb her. She gazed after the great host of her people, tall and bold and proud, and she watched them fade away and disappear into the bloody sunrise.
FINIS
Final Author's Note: Well, that's that then.
If/when I put up A Storm of Swords: Knees Falling (I currently think I am likely to, but I might not, so it would be dishonest of me to promise it) I'll put up another 'chapter' on here, to let any readers who may have been interested in A Clash of Kings: Knees Falling know that they can follow the characters' stories further, if they wish to. Until then… fare well!