Wild Wolf

by Vimesenthusiast

Fed up with life in Nerima, Ranma runs away, only to be followed by Happosai, who has a magic scroll he want to try out. It works but Ranma suddenly finds himself in Westeros replacing the champion chosen by the old gods in a time of great peril for humanity. How will the world change with the Wild Wolf raised in the den of wolves? A lot. Thanks to Naj. P. Jackson for the picture.

11. Chapter 11

I don't own Martin or Takahashi's work, one was written by a lazy dork that read one book (Prince) and assumed that was enough to understand Medieval warfare, while the other has only the vaguest understanding of how actual love/attraction works.

RJP: As you're not a member I am responding to you here. No, I will not be giving Ranma access to cannons or any kind of gunpowder. Sorry, but there are so many steps between finding saltpeter (which would likely only be found in Dorne in any event in Essos and creating even the first version of recorded gunpowder would take a lot of knowledge that Ranma has no way of knowing from his past life.

Note three things. One, I give one or two scenes in this much shorter screen time than I had initially thought and might have indicated in PMs to past reviewers, this is again because the war has begun. Two, I made a name mistake in the last chapter. Damon Was the Lannister left to lead the force at Wayfarer's rest, not Daven. A Dragon Naturally Speaking screw up that I missed, sorry. And three, while my beta reader, Anthony444 – give him a round of thanks people – and I tried to be thorough, we ran into a formatting problem when I sent the chapter to him so there might be missing spaces and especially misplaced ". If any of you see one, or my normal DNS mistakes, please tell me via PM, and I will correct it as soon as possible.

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Wild Wolf 11 In the face of the northern wings, castles too can crumble

Ander Clegane was an old weasel sort of man, a branch member of that family and had served as the Mountain's castellan and seneschal for years. Gregor was not a man who understood how to truly take care of a castle or manage land, so Ander survived in the Mountain's service because he was small, unassuming, un-threatening, and completely sycophantic. He was utterly loyal to the Lannisters, since part of his survival was based off Tywin's protection.

The castle of the former hound masters of the Lannisters was set on the southeastern edge of the Westerlands, not quite on the border with the Reach but close enough. It made an excellent staging area, close enough to rapidly deploy to the defense of the Westerlands along that border or as an offensive force.

Lord Lannister knew the value of having specific tools to do specific jobs, and had slowly invested over the years in a large band of men who had come to be called The Mountain's Men, who were of similar disposition to him. Like the Brave Companions they could handle the more atrocious jobs and could also give Lord Lannister plausible deniability later on. After all Gregor had been a monster and monsters often slipped their leashes. Only a few of those men had ridden with the Mountain to the Tourney of the hand. Those few of course died in King's Landing to the mobs after Ranma slaughtered Gregor, but this left the majority still around to cause carnage.

Indeed those were the orders Ander was following now, that had set these men on the march into the Reach and to lands held by House Rowan several weeks ago. 'Burn, pillage, rape, make a nuisance of yourselves. Avoid any set battle with larger forces, instead harry, harass, burn, keep on the move. Bring the horror of war to the Reach as much as possible before you are forced to retreat'. That, these men, these two thousand barely human monsters would do gleefully, as the line of smoke in the sky behind them attested to.

Nor was this the only group sent out from the Westerlands to raid the Reach. While Tywin did not employ many mercenary companies save those who could perform deeds he would like to have plausible deniability for, he retained one company from Tyrosh, a band of free riders that were more organized and better led than most.

This company, consisting of nearly another two thousand men, moved down the Ocean Road from Crakehall into the Reach from that direction. They were backed by men of House Turnberry and Greenfield, another eight hundred archers and a little over a hundred scouts. Their job was to either sack any keep or holdfast which they felt was too weak to hold them out, or wait in ambush for any force sent out against the former Mountain's men. The decision of which order to follow was left up to the commander, Ser Prester.

OOOOOOO

The camp sitting on the outskirts of the city of the Whispering Woods wasn't large, about eighty armsmen, three knights and two hundred archer. Over the main tent flew the banner of House Grell, a blue shield split by a diagonal white line with three red birds. A knightly house, they had long been loyal followers of House Tully, just as House Paege was known to be, hence why the camp's guards merely waved Ser Harmon, head of that house, and his party of ten men through when they rode up.

House Paege too had mustered their forces. They were waiting in Fairmarket but Halmon had ridden out to meet with House Grell, wanting to confer on what they should do before marching out.

It was interesting Ser Hartwick Grell thought to himself as he studied the ten men dismounting from their horses, that not one of those men is one of his son-in-laws, or even his grandsons. That said something about the house's interior disposition, and it wasn't good. "Halmon," he said aloud, grasping the other man's forearm warmly. "Are you ready to receive us in Fairmarket?"

Fairmarket was a town on the Blue Fork, the waypoint of trade between Seagard and the rest of the Riverlands. It was small, but growing slowly and its defenses were also growing. Paege had originally been a knightly house, but thanks to Fairmarket continuing to slowly grow, they might achieve lordly status in a generation or two more.

"Aye, I am," The other man said. He was a knight and retained both the body and the training of said, much like his counterpart. Both were hard, tough men, who had fought against the traitors that followed House Targaryen rather than their Lord Paramount in the War of the Usurper despite their own misgivings, and again against the Ironborn when they tried to invade the Ironman's Bay, serving under Lord Mallister. "But I have other matters to speak of."

Ser Grell groaned. "What's gone wrong now?" There'd been so many things going wrong that it was an easy assumption to make.

"I know not what maggot has infested his brain, but Bruce Nayland has declared his house for Lord Renly!"

For a moment Hartwick simply looked at him blankly. Nayland was a knightly house much like his own, but even weaker considering that they held the lands of the Hags Mire, a large everglade that was the end of the Blue Fork, with many of its source tributaries feeding out of the glades. It was a small weak area in terms of men and food it could produce or support and the power of the knightly house in control of it reflected that. They could barely put a hundred men, at best two hundred men into the field, and most of those would be untried levies.

What bothered Hartwick however was the fact that they were declaring for Renly Baratheon rather than simply stating they wouldn't take any side. That he could understand, indeed for most of the minor houses that stance would be sensible, especially in a situation like this when no one really knew which side was in the right, whatever they may say publicly. But to declare for a Lord Paramount not of the Riverlands and one without a good legal claim to the throne, that was bizarre. "By the Stanger what is Bruce thinking!"

"I don't know if he is thinking." Halmon growled. "The Naylands have never been known for their ability to plan ahead, but the young firebrand that is their head of house now is even worse. I think he met Renly once at a tournament or something, and that seems to be enough for him."

"Enough for what, to raise his house in arms against their Lord Paramount, to ignore all oaths of loyalty and fealty?" Hartwick said incredulously. "Fool."

"True." Halmon replied, shaking his head then looking around before speaking in a lower tone. "In truth, I would prefer to not take the field against the Lannisters either. I do not believe Lord Edmure or Lord Stark committed treason, but there are so many differing reports of what really went on in King's Landing that I can't tell which is false and which is true."

By this point Renly, the Queen's and Stannis's version of events in King's Landing had begun to spread along with rumors, which were the only things faster than raven wings. Lord Renly was declaring that the children of the queen were all illegitimate, though he did not know their father. He had information from the maesters to back it up, notes from a genealogy study that showed that every time the Lannisters and Baratheons married, the boys took after the Baratheon line. There was no specific message about the female offspring of those unions but that could have simply been an oversight of the genealogists.

Stannis had taken it a step further. He had declared and sent messages out both on horseback and by raven stating that all three of the royal children had been the kingslayer's sons, that Cersei had committed incest with her brother. That was so beyond the pale that none would have believed it, yet it was coming from Stannis. Stern, dour and lacking in people skills he might be, but every lord who had met the man knew Stannis was not one to spread such rumors. Not unless he had proof. Though few were prepared yet to say they believed it, no one was willing to say they didn't either.

Then of course there was the Queen's version, wherein Lord Stark of all people had made a play for the crown in conjunction with Targaryen loyalists, dragging in Edmure as well. That made no sense to anyone who had met Eddard or even knew anything of his character. Yet it was fact that the victors won the right to make the histories, and at first even those most loyal to House Tully were prepared to believe it. After all, Edmure wasn't known for his forward thinking, and could easily have been led into folly.

But that was where rumors began to come in. Rumors which said Lord Stark had survived. Rumors that said his son had returned from a mission to Essos then rescued Sansa Stark singlehandedly before retreating to the sea. That before he had retreated, Lord Stark had stated that the queen was a traitor, and that it was his proof Renly was mouthing.

Muddying that further was the fact that everyone agreed the Starks had opened their arms to Tommen and Myrcella, the two youngest of the three royal children. If they were illegitimate, then surely the Starks wouldn't have been willing to do that, right? And surely Lord Tully would never have sent so many men to the Starks if he had any idea they were going to commit treason? So no one really knew what to believe, but thanks to their lord Paramount's orders to follow their conscience, every house was doing just that.

"I would've said the same if not for this. It was passed on to me from Riverrun. I'm probably the first to see it." Hartwick replied, holding up a small raven message. He handed it over to the other man who took it, read it then smiled grimly.

"Interesting. "Halmon said simply while handing it back, but he shook his head. "Still, I have the defense of Fairmarket to see to and that limits the amount of men I can send into the field."

"Bah, combined we don't have enough men to make any difference in a straight up battle against the Lannisters. Let that to the Noble Houses, they're apparently planning something over at the Kneeling Man's ford. Rather poetic frankly, if they can pull it off." Hartwick smirked.

Lord Paege barked a laugh then shook his head again. "I was going to say that we shouldn't field any forces against them, but we can match Nayland."

"Yes," Ser Grell said nodding his head grimly. "We can put Naylands back in their place, and guard Fairmarket. With its defenses and my own men added to yours we should be able to hold out until help arrives from Lord Mallister."

They both knew was true. House Mallister was one of the five most powerful houses in the Riverlands, but Jason Mallister had even more area he needed to defend. Not a single Riverlands lord was under any misapprehension of what the Ironborn would be doing in this time of calamity. As such Lord Mallister couldn't field his entire force. He had to keep some at home to defend Seagard, and had to keep some to go to the aid of any of the small villages in the Cape of Eagles. There weren't many of them, and they were all decently protected, but not one of them could call on more than five or six-hundred defenders even if it called up its entire male population.

As such Lord Mallister had sent word he was putting a force of three thousand men, mostly infantry and archers into the field. This let him his heavy and light infantry, and he had enough horse to add to their speed which would allow him to better protect the Cape of Eagles. His son Patrek led them marching down the Green Fork around Hags Mire before marching to Fairmarket on the Blue Fork which was not only a village but also the site of a bridge across that river. Once that force reached Fairmarket it would be a far harder nut to crack, one that even Lord Tywin would probably try to bypass rather than fight.

"But you have issues of your own." Grell went on obliquely looking at the men who were watering their horses behind Lord Paege. A few of his own men were coming out with bowls of hot stew and field bread for them, but they wouldn't tarry long before turning around with his own force to continue the march. They would be at Fairmarket within three days if they kept up their current pace.

Paege grimaced and nodded reluctantly. "I, I've been displeased with my sons-in-law for a while now. But this current business has brought that to the fore. Both Whalen and Jammos think we should follow Lord Frey's 'suggestion' and either remain neutral or join with the Lannisters." He scowled angrily. "Damn Freys, wouldn't know honor if it bit them in the ass!"

Hartwick laughed, shaking his head. "I'm just glad none of mine' are married into that damn family. Your daughters?"

"Somewhat fond of their husbands, but there's been some issues there with how they are training their children and how much time they and the boys spend up at the Twins." He shrugged. "They won't be happy with their husbands being restrained, but they will understand."

The problem was Old Walder Frey had been around so long, and been so… profligate that his sons had married into dozens of other lordly houses, but all of them were far more loyal to him then to their new houses. The Paeges were not alone in facing this issue, but they might be one of the worst off. Halmon had three sons and two daughters. Both daughters had married Freys, the thirteenth and fourteenth sons of Old Walder both of whom were very much their father's creature.

Also unfortunately, none of his sons had married just yet, his refusal to take a Frey as a daughter as well as a son-in-law into his house making that tougher. There were a few other marriageable age girls, but some of them were spoken for already, and for the others, the houses had turned down his proposals. Despite controlling Fairmarket House Paege was still a knightly house, not a lordly one, which hurt his prospects.

His oldest daughter Sallei had three sons, and had two miscarriages besides them. His other daughter Sylwa had one son and a daughter. Hoster was a likely lad, and had already agreed to squire for Halmon's youngest Garett when he was knighted in two years. Jammos' three had been sent up to the Twins or other Frey supporters to Hoster, and come back changed. All three of them were likely to follow Jammos rather than Halmon despite Halmon being their head of house.

"I'm going to arrest them all if they keep pushing." Halmon went on quietly as the camp broke up around them and the men began to move.

Hartwick clambered up into his saddle beside his friend and nodded grimly. "Want some help with that?"

"No." Halmon replied, shaking his head. This is an internal family matter, and I hope to imprison them without further bloodshed."

Hartwick nodded his head, hoping it went as well as the other man wished.

Three days later they arrived back at Fairmarket. Fairmarket was a town of around three or four thousand souls, though it had swelled thanks to the current troubles up to six or seven thousand due to refuges from down past the Red Fork.

Lord Lannister's forces were not being kind as he marched over the Riverlands, unless the Lord of the land they were currently on bent the knee. More than a few had, but that hadn't saved their neighbors. Luckily only the Stone Mill and Mummer's fords were under Lannister control, allowing men to come across at the Kneeling Man's ford to make their way to Fairmarket or other castles, begging for aid and protection. There were also other groups here from the lands of other lords who had sent them here to get them out of the way.

House Paege's keep was a simple two-story keep made of stone set into the side of the outer wall of the village. That wall showed how Fairmarket was slowly changing. Where before it had been a simple wooden palisade now there was a wall made of stone along that entire side, with the stone continuing on until it reached the two towers, both new constructions, set near the river. The other side still retained its wooden palisade, and the two towers were still being built, but it was a decent defensive position.

Halmon's oldest son Robert rode out from the keep to meet them. After exchanging pleasantries with both older men he became grim. "Word has arrived from the Twins. By order of the crown, Lord Tully is going to be stripped of his Lord Paramount status if he does not send orders to get the Noble houses under control. According to the Freys, the Lannisters wish to name Lord Frey as the new Lord Paramount of the Riverlands. They aren't going to just yet, not until this present conflict is over, but that's a major carrot to tempt Old Walder with. It's made my brothers-in-law even more strident in their demands that we follow Lord Frey's suggestions."

Robert spat the words 'brothers-in-law' having never liked either man, even if he couldn't figure out if they were abusing their wives or not. Keeping them pregnant was dangerous and debilitating to them, but that wasn't abuse, not quite. Certainly not enough for him to take umbrage against anyway.

Halmon growled angrily. "It seems I have no choice. Will you be all right keeping your men out here for another hour or so my friend?" he said turning to Hartwick. "It seems I have to clean house before offering you hospitality."

Hartwick nodded and the two Paeges turned. With their men following them they rode ahead to their small keep. Inside they quickly dismounted, handing their horses over to one of the stable-hands before moving into the keep proper. Robert broke off there, heading into the first story barracks to alert the men of coming trouble while Halmon moved on inside up to the families private suites.

He was making for his office where he would call his sons-in-law in along with his grandsons, but was accosted on the trip by the oldest of them. Jammos was broad shouldered, fair-haired and pleasant to look upon, but that pleasantness only ran skin deep. He was a true son of Old Walder, who thought himself intelligent and brave beyond what he truly was. "Father." he said, making that word a mockery almost, and Halmon noted absently he had a sword strapped to his side. "We have to talk. No doubt you've already heard but…"

"I have heard. Halmon said interrupting him. But my answer remains the same. "I am sworn to Lord Tully, not your father and certainly not Lord Lannister. My Lord asked me to act in the way my conscience dictates, and I will do so. I will not side with you Freys or the Lannisters. That is an end to it. If you keep on pushing this, I'll have no choice but to place both you and your brother under arrest."

The man shrugged as if it was no moment turning away only to come back, his sword flashing out of its scabbard. "In that case, I think it's time for House Paege to have a new Lord."

Halmon stumbled back astonished but still pulling out his own blade and blocking the younger man's thrust. "Traitor!" he bellowed, parrying and sending Jammos backward, before the two began to trade blows there in the hallway of his own keep. The noise of that conflict seemed to be a signal because suddenly all around them noises of battle began flared up from within the keep.

The younger man grunted, not showing any of his strain in his voice. The older man had surprised him by his speed and strength, but then again this was the first time they'd faced one another sword to sword, the older man disdaining tournaments. His father's orders however had been very specific. House Paege was to come over to their side, securing Fairmarket for the Lannisters before the Mallister force arrived.

Though Jammos didn't know it, Lord Walder was playing a long game. With Fairmarket and its crossing secure, the Lannister could then march up to the twins along the Blue Fork, smashing the Mallister forces out of their way to link up with the Freys before closing down that neck to anything from the North. Combined the Freys and the Lannister's first echelon would have enough strength to sit at the edge of the Neck where the Kingsroad entered it and fortify the position.

That was, if the North couldn't offer the Freys more than the Lannisters could or at least match them. Lord Frey wasn't about to risk his own troops until he was assured of gaining something. The Lannister's promises weren't worth the paper they were written on, enough for him to put his armsmen into the field, but not enough to actually order them into battle, not without some solid assurances.

Playing both sides against one another's was simply good sense according to Old Walder. He was a realist, and knew that many of his fellow Riverlands lords would look upon him askance for being elevated to Lord Paramount by the Lannisters, regardless of anything else, so was willing to listen to other offers, especially if they were more solid. After all, Ranma Stark was as yet unmarried, and there were the other Stark children to consider. (Needless to say certain tidbits of news had not reached very far just yet…)

Jammos frowned, backing away from the old man as Halmon pushed their locked blades closer to his chest, then broke the lock before trying a lightning thrust. But Halmon ducked to one side, his own sword coming up slicing deep into the younger man's arm. Jammos screamed, but that was all he had time for before his father-in-law's blade took him in the chest punching through his leather armor and out his back in a welter of blood.

Staring down at his son-in-law's body Halmon shook his head. "Stranger Damned Freys!" He then turned his attention to the battle at hand racing towards the largest concentration of noise.

He came upon his other son-in-law and two of James's three sons, fighting his own son Damon four on one there in the halls. Damon fell as Halmon approached, his leg pierced by a blade from one of his nephews. "Damn you!" he cried. We're family! Why?!"

The boy who'd stabbed him, Mathis, backed away, looking down at his blade almost as if he didn't know why he was holding it for a moment shocked at the sight of his uncle bleeding from a blow from him, but Whalen moved forward his sword rising for a blow to finish Damon off. "That's precisely why we're doing this, family!" he sneered. "It's just House Frey is much more worth following than House Paege as it is now!"

Halmon barreled into them, slamming Whalen against the wall behind him as his own blade flicked out slamming one of the younger boys backwards from a blow from the side of his sword to the side. Walder grimaced in pain but he and Dickon recovered quickly, swords rising to attack their grandfather.

But around them the men-at-arms of house Paege were rallying. Jammos had brought back ten men with him from the twins on his latest return home. He and his sons had long known that battle might occur inside house Paege to determine who they would follow and they were all determined to win. However, the men that Halmon had taken out with him to meet with Ser Grell had been just as prepared for violence when they got back. As Halmon fought his family, with his son Damon once more on his feet protecting his back, his men rallied in the rest of the keep, cutting down the traitors in their midst.

Several blows were exchanged further when Sylwa's son Hoster raced out of their suite of rooms further down the hallway. He was crying, and at eleven was the youngest boy there, but he held a blade in his hand, a gift from Halmon on his last birthday that his mother had taken control of when Hoster was not training with his uncles. Outside of practicing young boys often thought that once they had a blade in their hands they ruled the world after all, and Sylwa had views on her little boy wielding a weapon in that manner.

"You bastards!" Hoster shouted as he came. "You killed her, you killed my mother!"

Halmon's heart went cold at those words and looking into Whalen's eyes he saw the truth of it. "Why?" he said his voice of alloy of grief and rage. "Why!"

"The bitch would've warned you." The younger man growled, pushing back at against the older man's sword. "I refuse to let you bring this whole family down with you. Fairmarket is mine!" Actually, it would have been Jammos', but the younger Whalen had no illusions on what he would or would not do to gain control of the village.

Hoster slammed into Dickon and Walder, losing his sword in the impact but bearing the two larger boys, almost man at 16, to the ground. Both of them raised their swords to cut him down, but he was inside their grip, and his belt dagger flew stabbing frenziedly. Dickon screamed as it first found his side, then his guts.

Seeing his brother dying on the floor under his cousin , Mathis came out of his funk. He plunged his blade into the younger boy's back killing him instantly.

Halmon howled, and Damon, grief stricken, cut Mathis down before bringing his blade around to finish off Walder. Walder ducked rolling on the floor to dodge the blow, flinging his own blade up to slice into Damon's unarmored side. Damon slumped against the hallway's wall, gasping from the pain. With that done, Walder turned to help his father with Halmon his face almost blank.

Robert and several armsmen arrived at that point and looked in horror at the scene in front of them. Robert had been about to demand his brother-in-law's surrender, but seeing the bodies on the floor his own brother and the bodies of his nephews down he simply roared and charged. Not two minutes later it was all over, with both Walder and Whalen chopped down to join the others.

After ordering Robert to organize his armsmen to remove the bodies in the hallway and send for a maester for Damon, who still breathed, Halmon moved down the hallway. Passing Hoster's body he stopped momentarily to close the boy's wide, staring eyes, his own brown eyes filled with tears of grief. "Brave lad, you deserved better than this."

Leaving that scene of carnage, Halmon moved on. He soon reached the suites that Hoster had come from and looked inside. It was a small family suite like many found in castles the world over, one master bedroom, one child's bedroom set to the side, and the main sitting area. In the sitting area Sylwa, his youngest daughter, lay dead on the floor, her neck broken.

Halmon didn't know what happened here, and likely never would since his men hadn't taken any prisoners. But he supposed that Hoster had been ordered to remain in his room while his parents argued only to come out when he heard the sound of battle out in the hallway to find his mother like this.

"Brave boy. "Halmon said, his voice gruff as he went to one knee by his daughters body, not having the heart right then to check on his other daughter, somehow knowing she too would be dead. Both of his daughters had been very loyal to their family, and would never have agreed to go against him, their father. "Brave boy and loyal too, the only one of them who knew what honor was. I should've never let the others foster where they did! No, I should've never agreed to let those two into my house at all! I'm sorry…" he said to the body of his youngest daughter "I'm sorry. Damn Freys, Stranger damned Freys!"

OOOOOOO

A group of 20 men on horseback moved through the woods several hours in front of the main force of the Lannister forces. All of them were wearing the colors of the Westerlands House of Jast. These men were assigned to scout out the route ahead of the army. All of them were veterans and knew the troubles similar parties had run into before so rode with one hand on their swords and both eyes wide open, scanning the trees.

They would've done better to also have been watching where their horses were walking. As the first horses in the small party passed between two larger oaks there were two men covered with leaves and branches hidden among the roots of those trees. Barely able to see from under the leaves, the two men nodded slightly to one another, the rustling of their covering lost in the tramp of hooves on the ground. As the first horses came level with them both men tugged hard on a rope that lay between them. Snapping taut, the rope rose up out of the grass where it had been hidden to catch the second pair of legs on the two horses.

Those horses stumbled, the action taking the attention of all of the scouts for just a moment, which proved deadly. Out of the woods from all around them arrows flew, and suddenly the group of fifteen was down to five. Those five men at the back of the party turned and tried to race away, but seven men, all of them wearing dark green colors, purposefully dirtied leather Jerkins with bits of leaves stuck here and there, the better to blend in, suddenly popped up, spears raised and slamming up into the riders, piercing their leather armor and smashing them out of their saddles.

Two more men came out of the woods wielding short swords that had been purposefully darkened and oiled to make no sound as they came out of their scabbards. Moving methodically through the downed men they slit throats while also taking the dead men's pouches. Their leaders didn't care if they looted the corpses of the enemy, so long as it was the enemy dead, not their own.

Suddenly an owl, a nocturnal hunter hooted, causing all the men there to look up into the woodlands towards the sound. This signal followed by four more hoots. At that signal they all quickly faded back into the woods, racing off and away from the ambush point.

One of the men paused just a moment to pull out of his backpack a spare tabard. On it was a shield quartered with two squares of black with a white tower, and two squares of white with green dragons on them. "Blood for blood." He muttered, tossing it down onto one of the bodies before racing off into the woods.

OOOOOOO

Mules marched through what was formerly House Smallwood land, being led through the woods by men of House Lannister, along with twenty men of the Bloody Mummers guarding it. The Mummer's men were cocksure and not watching their surroundings, still full of themselves for the sacking of Acorn Hall. The Lannister men were paying attention but this wasn't their land. While they knew to look for movement in the woods, they couldn't spot an ambush point coming up in this strange land of large forests, hills, small streams, and glades. Their fellows had been paying for that lack of knowledge for several weeks now.

One of the men guarding the right flank of the small party paused quizzically, looking up into the trees.

"What?" said one of the others.

"I could've sworn I saw a red…"

That was as far as he got before an arrow seemed to grow out of his eye, splattering his fellow with his life's blood. The surviving man cried out in shock then screamed as an arrow found his side, his leather armor little protection against a heavy bodkin arrowhead, which punched deep into his gut.

What they lacked in actual martial ability or situational awareness the mercenaries made up for in survivor instincts. As one they all turned in the saddle, trying to race away through the woods. Instead they ran into more men, suddenly appearing from under bush or behind tree. Spears flashed up into their faces, short swords stabbed into their horse's bellies, and the men went down.

Tytos Blackwood, lord of House Blackwood, pulled his sword out of one of the mercenaries, leaning down to spit into the man's face before slitting his throat. "You've murdered your last child!" he growled, his face a mask of fury over his beard.

Raven feather cloak swirling ,Tytos stood up moving to his men and those of House Vance who had joined them for this ambush, a squad of five to add to his own twenty. Other groups like this were spread out all over Smallwood lands and many other houses that were on the route Lannister's men had followed up to this point. In times of peace that would be an act of aggression against those houses, but now Tytos and the Vance youngsters could not care less. Blackwood saw it as his duty to oppose the Lannister invaders, above and beyond not wishing to bow to a child of incest, while the remaining house Vance wished to avenge their cousins. "What were they transporting?"

"Flour and medicines on this one." Said one of the house Vance man, a youngster named Cliff Aleris, an archer and an excellent shot despite coming from a smallfolk family of farmers.

"Arrowheads and cured meat on this one." One of his own men said, an armsmen named Saros.

"We'll eat well tonight then." Tytos said laughing and slapping both of the men on their shoulders. "Now away. We'll keep moving for the rest of the day, we won't rest until deep night, I want us to put at least two of the small rivers between us."

Small rivers were the name of all the unnamed little brooks and inlets that dotted the Riverlands, whether or not they fit into larger bodies of water were not. No mapmaker had ever tried to name them all, you would have been able to see the land for the names.

They turned to their local guide, and armsmen of Smallwood who, like a few others had survived the battle of Acorn Hall. Terrence Corbeck decided to link up with the groups of raiders, taking bloody vengeance on the invading army for his home. Terrence nodded and led the way off through the woods while Tytos quickly organized the race through the woods, divvying out the spoils to his men. Little things here and there, he thought to himself, none of us have a strong enough spear to gore the lion, but even a lion can died from enough bee-stings.

OOOOOOO

Lord Tywin scowled, looking down at his map while around him his officers shuffled uncomfortably. Not normally one to allow irritation to show except under extreme circumstances, that he was doing so now was a sign of the trouble they had run into of late. Dammit, Hoster's move was even shrewder than I had feared. The Riverlands lords might not be capable generals in a pitched offensive, but little skirmishes and delaying actions, on their own ground? That they can do quite well apparently. Over six hundred men I've lost in the last week alone!

At first after the example of House Vance of Wayfarer's Rest, things had gone smoothly. The Lychesters had then bent the knee, a small House, they had known better than to try to fighting him.

The Goodbrooks were next, and had been very shrewd in how they had fought him for all of two days. They had set several small deadly ambushes for his scouts, killing two dozen of his men for little return, fading back into the woodlands and away from his army's angle of advance. That had ended when one of his nephews had set up an ambush of their own, riding their initial party of ambushers into the ground.

The Goodbrooks, a house that had never recovered from Hoster's retaliation against them for following the Targaryens, had lost both their lord which probably meant they were now extinct in the long run considering the only survivor of the house was a uncle who had married a Frey girl. Their keep, which had also been nearly demolished by Hoster along with the small village around it, was several days out of the way however. This plus the fact the he house was too poor to support his army in any way meant Tywin was willing to let him, his wife and their two children be since he surrendered and vowed to support the king.

Crossing the Red Fork had also been relatively easy. A small force out of Pinkmaiden including Lord Piper's heir Marq had tried to ambush his scouts, but been ambushed in turn. Apparently the young fool had been a friend of Edmure, and had acted without his father's approval in leading that attack.

With the heir captured, Lord Piper had negotiated for his return. Lord Piper was a shrewd character however, and had already evacuated everyone who was willing to leave the village of Mummer's Ford into his castle. Despite its idiotic name, Pinkmaiden was a hard nut to crack, a fully modern castle. The Pipers were also a decently strong noble house, with the numbers of armsmen on hand that title implied unlike house Vance of Wayfarer's Rest, which Tywin's economic moves had crippled over time.

From this position of strength, the agreement they reached was almost even. House Piper agreed not to support any attacks on Lord Lannister's forces as well as supply a force of two hundred scouts, and to keep Mummer's Ford open for Lannister traffic, with an agreement in the future to bend the knee once the 'position of the Riverlands in relation to the crown was less fluid'. In others words, Piper would bend the knee the moment doing so wouldn't set the majority of its neighbors on him.

In return, Tywin promised the honorable treatment of the other Piper men captured, and guaranteed his armies conduct while on Piper land, plus provender for two thousand to be paid from the village stores. In all House Piper had lost two-hundred-and-eleven men thanks to Marq's idiocy, but his father had saved their house for now and Lord Lannister had crossed at the Stone Mill's ford without further incident.

The geography of the Riverlands meant that on a straight line march, the fastest march he could do, up to the Neck meant he would have to cross the Red Fork again later on. The Red Fork, the slowest and most meandering of the three great rivers, made a half loop down from the mountains to where it intersected the other forks at the Trident.

But since that first crossing, his army had begun to take niggling losses here and there. Not a day went by on the march when some small group of scouts were not ambushed and when his scouts missed those ambushes his men on the march took losses as well. No one of any importance had died as yet, but fifteen light cavalry here, one or two knights there, a dozen infantrymen here, it added up.

Wiping out House Vance was a mistake I realize that now, Tywin thought. Yes, it sent the message I wanted to, but I should've realized that House Vance of Atranta would take it poorly.

Vance of Atranta was one of the three most powerful Riverlands houses of the on this side of the Red Fork. Led by an old blind man, Tywin had thought possibly too cautious to raise arms against him when he had the crown's approval, or barring that, the sons too young and untried. But that had not proven to be the case thus far.

But they surprised me. I thought that if they did they would try to stand up against my army in a straight up fight, possibly with Blackwood and other families of the region beside them. Ronald 'the Bad' isn't known for his martial ability after all. That way I could smash them in an open contest without being forced to root them out of their castles. Instead house Vance of Atranta seems to have put forth its strength in little ambush groups here and there.

Despite finding out that Acorn Hall and House Smallwood had fallen to a surprise attack by the Bloody Mummers, the attacks on his scouts but more importantly his supply train and line were telling. Of course that was because while Acorn Hall had been sacked, its stores had also gone up in the fire the Bloody Mummers set on the wooden keep.

Nor was there any sign of Lady Ravella Smallwood, or her daughter. Tywin had the ruins and the Bloody Mummer's camp searched in particular for any sign of them, having a description of both and no wish to let potentially important tools be ill-used by Hoat and his lackeys.

When it came clear to Tywin that the Smallwoods might have escaped the sacking of their keep, he had Hoat brought before him, then executed the man some called the Goat for gross incompetence and overstepping his bounds. One could have been excused without the other, but Hoat and his band were almost as bad as the men Tywin had collected to put under Gregor's command. They had to be shown there were limits. Moreover, Vargo had dared to speak to Tywin as if he was an equal. Such things could not be allowed to pass, but thankfully the Goat's execution seemed to have gotten his message across.

So despite his progress, Tywin was in danger of stalling here, which had forced him to consider an action he had hoped not to. He looked up, his face once more composed as Lord Bracken was shown into his tent.

Jonos Bracken was brown eyed man of Tywin's generation though not as tall as he, with broad shoulders and arms, a sign of his youth when he was a well-known wrestler. He wore plate and mail, with the tabard with the color of his house proudly displayed, a red horse one a yellow shield with a brown frame while he carried a great-helm with a horsehair crest under one arm.

"You will supply my men with the supplies they need." Tywin stated firmly. "If you do that I will aid you in destroying House Blackwood, as they have taken up arms against the crown. I will send a force from my second echelon to siege and take their castle in conjunction with your own men." Blackwood men had also been seen attacking Tywin's supply trains. Tywin internally wondered if Tytos Blackwood was the one who had shaped the Riverlander's strategy so far, it seemed far too intelligent to come from the oldest Vance boy, Ronald.

Bracken growled at Tywin's tone, but nodded. "I'll agree to that, so long as I have your word we'll destroy them, root and branch." The Blackwoods and Brackens had been feuding for generations, longer than anyone alive remembered, and their hatred for one another's houses was the driving force behind Bracken being here. He couldn't care less who sat on the Iron Throne, nor was he truly close to House Tully or anyone from that family.

"You have my word." Tywin replied formally, before turning back to the map. "Now, how many men can you add to my force, and how fast can supplies reach us?"

Bracken frowned, pulling at his short cropped beard thoughtfully. For now, I'll say that the force I brought with me here, a little over a thousand armsmen, five hundred archers and a hundred heavy cavalry. If we wipe out Blackwood, I'll add another two thousand mixed levies and archers to that plus five hundred more armsmen."

Tywin went over those numbers in his head, comparing them to what he knew of Bracken's strength and nodded. That would mean stripping Stone Hedge, House Bracken's castle of nearly its entire defense force, but so long as Lord Lannister controlled the side of the red Fork that would be an acceptable risk for the other house. After a moment Tywin nodded. "Very well. Now," he said gesturing down at the map. "Tell me what you know of our route, do you recommend one fort over the other?"

Over the next few hours after talking to Lord Bracken and his sub commanders Tywin decided on their course from now on. There were two Fords to get across the Red Fork going further north. One was at the Trident, where you could cross all three of the Forks at once, then take the Kingsroad up north. However, that would take Tywin and his army nearly a month out of their way marching east, and that was time that Tywin could ill afford if he wanted to get up to the Neck and defend it against the northern incursion.

By this time the ship carrying his granddaughter, the almost certainly alive Lord Stark would have already reached the North, and they might have already begun to gather their forces. With the Riverlands now broken into pieces thanks to Hoster's declaration and every lord responding individually to the events in King's Landing, there was no chance of any one family standing up and taking control of the defense against him, and for all his natural charisma Renly was untried as a general. If Tywin knew what Stannis was up to perhaps he would prefer to remain here in the south and meet up with his second echelon. But not knowing that and with forces already sent to bolster the defense of King's Landing, keeping the Riverlands divided and the North out of action was the most important thing.

Then too, if he could smash a few more houses without needing to be bogged down in siege after siege, the aura of an undefeated general and his own well-earned reputation for ruthlessness could keep the houses along the eastern edge of the Riverlands from acting. A few of them backed the Targaryens in the War of the Usurper, and were individually very weak still due to Hoster's retaliation.

The Houses between the Red and Blue Forks however were a different story. Those houses were well known to have friendly and deep ties to House Tully, and most of their heirs like several others were friends of Edmure which would push them to act against any rumor of his being a traitor.

Moreover continuing straight up to the ford at the Kneeling Man would allow him to keep most of his supply lines on Bracken land, making it much harder for them to be attacked. If they tried to follow the River Road though, the Blackwood's would become more and more into play and of course Vance's men would continue their depredations.

Over the next week this strategy proved accurate. House Bracken's men took over protecting his supply lines entirely, and waged a vicious campaign against House Blackwood and House Vance men to protect them. They did a much better job than his men had done thanks to being on their own territory and knowing where any ambush points could be set up. However, Tywin was faced with a new problem when he reached the ford.

Tywin sat on his horse staring through a small spy glass across the ford. Defensive bulwarks had been thrown up on the other side of the Ford, and there were several houses allied against him over there. "Interesting," he murmured handing the spyglass over to his cousin, Daven.

The other man looked through it and nodded. "I see banners for Blanetree, Deddings, Shawney, Lolliston, Vypren, and Vance of Atranta. Apparently the sons of the old Lord have decided they've had enough of playing bandits in the woods. Overall, Possibly…." he paused, thinking as he surveyed the defensive line. "Could be as many as seven thousand?"

"That was what I estimated yes." Lord Tywin said turning to look hard at Bracken. "You assured me that they would not ally with one another."

"I said that they probably wouldn't ally." Bracken corrected. "Shawney and Lolliston would always have stood against you here or soon after Lord, their standing together is not exactly unexpected, they've married into one another often enough. The others being here is a surprise, I'll admit."

Tywin stared hard at the other man, but Bracken wasn't just old, despite his bluster he was actually tough and he stared back unflinchingly. Eventually Tywin nodded and there was some respect in his voice as he replied. "Very well, your house has served the crown well enough so far, and your advice up to this point was good. And frankly this plays to our strengths as well."

Daven nodded. He was a jovial looking man, with wide shoulders, long yellow hair and a pug nose, which had been broken several times in his youth, but despite the pugilist features he was intelligent. Daven was known good leader and blade, much better than his father Stafford. Stafford had initially served as Tywin's second-in-command, but Daven was simply a better leader of fighting men, and just as good an organizer as his father.

To avoid familial friction Tywin had sent back Stafford back to the Westerlands to help Kevan raise the second muster and then command its march. Kevan would have normally lead that army being Tywin's closest and most trusted relative but Tywin was loath to remove Kevan from Casterly Rock. He feared that the Ironborn would attempt to revert to their roots once more, and wanted a strong, dependable hand in place to protect Lannisport.

"We outnumber them, and while that position is good, it won't make up the strength difference. We can smash those houses now, and might not have to deal with more niggling losses on the other side of the river. Especially since the Vance boys are over there." Daven smirked.

"If we smash them in as believable a manner as possible." Tywin murmured, sounding skeptical. However, Tywin knew something that Daven hadn't truly realized: that the enemy was not a unified force, far from it in fact.

"Send over an emissary under the white flag. While that's going on, ready the men for battle." With that he began to give out commands briskly, assigning each Westerlands lord to a separate section, and putting Daven in charge of the heavy cavalry.

The Red Fork was a wide, winding, lazy river, not very deep for the most part, it seemed as if a man on horse or a cart could make their way across. But it wasn't the depth that made fords necessary, but the mud. The bottom of the Red Fork was a silt and mud mire, where a horse could suddenly go in up to its ankles in places. Attempting to cross anywhere but the fords at any time except for during a dry season was folly unless you had boats to carry you across. The defenders were at the Ford because that was the only place that heavy cavalry or carts could get across without breaking their legs.

But despite that, the land here wasn't very good for a defense, it was much too flat for any defending army to have a height advantage for its archers, and there were no natural defensive points save for the ford itself. The defenders had done their best, creating a line of makeshift bulwarks with a small step behind them and large wooden walls for the archers, but it was obvious the defenses were unfinished.

Looking at them closely, Tywin could see that the far right flank had actual rocks and gravel mixed into its bulwarks, and was much taller as well. Seeing this, Tywin knew he had to smash this defense aside quickly.

Within the hour the emissary came back, with the statement that the Lords would hold the Red Fork against the Lannister's army marching forward, but that they would not attack if the Lannister's remained where they were.

The man he had sent, Lucion Lannister, son of Damion, Casterly Rock's majordomo, shrugged his shoulders. "They seem confident my Lord, they think they can hold us here, and they think that help is on the way."

The man's squire, Willem Lannister, a nephew from Tywin's dead brother Tygett, spoke up. "Sir, I think I know why."

Tywin stared at the younger man, who gulped under his heart glare but stood his ground. After a moment Tywin nodded, gesturing with one hand for the man to speak. "While I was delivering your demand for them to move aside, I talked to a few of the other squires. They were smug about it, apparently Lord Mallister has already sent men. They're already on their way and nearly to Fairmarket already. And there was some kind of missive recently out of Riverrun, something about the North already on the march. That was supposed to be a secret but…" The young man shrugged.

Tywin's eyes widened slightly and he looked over at his other field commanders all of whom looked surprised at the news. Tywin wasn't surprised that the North would march, but if they were already on the march that was incredibly fast. It should've taken them three possibly even five months to gather their forces, possibly two if they didn't want to gather their full strength. Then at least another month to get down to the neck with any appreciable force!

After a moment however he shrugged. "It's a morale boosting trick. I have no doubt that the North might've already begun to muster, but that's not the same thing as being on the march. The Mallister force however, that is more worrisome."

"If they reach Fairmarket and join with house Paege they might be able to hold Fairmarket against us entirely." Daven said worriedly tugging at his short cropped, neatly trimmed goatee.

"Agreed." Tywin nodded crisply. "That makes it even more imperative for us to push this up force out of our way and continue on."

If they could not take Fairmarket, they could not get over the blue Fork without moving all the way down to where it connected to the Green Fork, which would take them at least a month out of their way. The Red Fork had several fords of various sizes, but the Blue Fork only had a few, and only two of them were large enough for a full army to move across. The area around the Ruby Ford was too good a defensive position for Tywin to wish to chance it, though it would get him across both the Blue and Green Forks. Worse, if Tywin went that way he might force the families on that side of the Green Fork to side against him, so he needed to capture Fairmarket.

"Very well, signal Lord Bracken to begin the arrow storm. I'll want the first and second infantry forces ready to storm across in ten minutes. The first will advance line across, the second in a column ready to exploit any openings in their defense."

His men jumped to obey as Tywin began to bark out further orders. He positioned his archers, around a thousand two hundred men, in two wings on either side of the ford, with his infantry set up into three groups. The first a group of nearly two thousand under Lord Brax, the second group another of two thousand five hundred under Lord Lefford, upwards of two thousand heavy cavalry waited behind them, with a further force of nearly a thousand light cavalry waiting at the back of the formation with the reserve, nearly another six hundred infantry. Lord Bracken's men made up a portion of the archers on one flank, bits of the light and heavy cavalry, and nearly half the second wave of infantry.

While the majority of his archers were waiting just outside of bow range, Tywin sent several hundred forward of his lines, and ordered them to start firing on the enemy bulwarks. This was more to give him a clue as to the nature of the enemy command then to inflict any real losses.

To his amusement this probing attack elicited a strong response. He stared through his spyglass as a large force of light cavalry raced across the ford towards his archers. "Tell my nephew to bring up the heavy cavalry, crush those light cavalry! Then bring up the archers in their entirety on the wings. If they react so strongly to a small probe, let's see what they do when we start to bring up our main forces. If we can pull them out of their prepared defenses…"

Within moments the archers he had committed to that initial attack were falling back seemingly in disarray towards his main force. Rather than turning aside, the light cavalry broke apart, some of its men pulling back across the ford their objective complete, while others pursued the archers. Those archers did not live to return to Tywin's lines, but their killers died under the lances of his heavy cavalry, or retreated in broken disarray across the Ford.

Under Daven's command those heavy cavalry did not pursue, pulling back while Tywin brought up his archers, racking the defensive line and the surviving light cavalry. From a makeshift stand at the back of his Army Tywin used his binoculars to observe the assault as his archers began to fire en-masse at the opposing line. He winced however when the archers on the other side began to fire back. Riverlands archers were better than Westerlanders, their bows larger and their pull heavier, not quite up to that used in the North or the Vale, but heavier than the Westerlands type. His archers began to take losses, despite the wooden palisades that protected them just like their fellows across the ford.

Under the hail of arrows from both sides, his first infantry column raced across the ford. With the archers concentrating on one another, they crossed the ford to assault the defenders line, and infantry began to die on both sides. The defenders were outnumbered, but had a prepared position, and slightly higher ground to fight from where they blocked the ford. The blood of the Red Fork truly began to turn red from the blood of the attackers.

Tywin watched this through his binoculars, his face carved from stone. "Order the second group to advance, tell them to concentrate on the left flank, and signal our first line to shift that way. Then tell our signal men to play the Rains of Castamere."

His fellow lords looked worried at that, not the song but the concentration of the infantry on the left flank. That was the strongest defensive position of the enemy, so why would you attack there? Tywin however had noticed that the defenders on that flank had become disorganized by the retreat of the remaining light cavalry into their lines.

Moreover, on that flank his archers seemed to be slowly winning the arrow duel. The other side showed the exact opposite, and the archers of House Vance had now split their attention, hitting his infantry as they tried to cross the ford. He could see dozen of his men dying from those arrows already, their chainmail and even plate no match for the arrows of their enemies at this close range.

The messenger raced off and moments later, the battle slowly shifted away from the right flank of the defenders line. Within moments of that, the song began.

Through his spyglass Tywin saw it happen. House Vypren controlled a portion of the line on the right flank, not the outermost portion which was given over to house Blanetree and Deddings, but the next bit, with Lolliston and Vance of Atranta holding the center and Shawney holding the left. It was the Shawney who were disorganized by the retreat of the light cavalry, and their line was already bending, forcing the small defenders reserve to reinforce them.

Over the noise of his army the song of his signal men reached across the Red Fork. The men under the Vypren banner, a black toad on a white lily pad backed by a green shield, turned to their right and began to assault the men of House Lolliston from the side. It worked even better than Tywin had expected, as he saw the banner of House Lolliston fall. He could make out one man falling from his horse who looked to have better armor than his fellows. Later on he would confirm that Lord Lolliston and his guard had all died under that sudden assault, the Vyprens proving to be vipers in truth.

With his infantry engaged with the rest of the defender's line holding them in place that left the heavy cavalry to exploit that breach. Without even being ordered to, they did so barreling into the suddenly disorganized House Lolliston line breaking it into pieces. As Tywin watched the men of house Loughton began to retreat in disarray, causing the breach to open even wider. "Order the infantry reserves in after the heavy cavalry. They are to exploit the breach, turn to the left as they get across, sweep the line and make certain that the Vance boys are either killed or captured."

Tywin did not want any of the House Vance troops to escape. They had proven far too capable in hit-and-run attacks up to this point, he did not want to have to deal with that again.

At the front of the line of heavy cavalry Daven laughed as he splashed across the Ford and into the disorganized Lolliston lines. His lance impacted one man as he spurred his horse over the defensive line of earthworks then pulled out his sword, cutting down one man then another as his horse galloped on through the infantry lines. The men whose spears might have been able to hold his cavalry at bay had turned aside to fight Vypren's men, and so were now easy meat for his horsemen. Behind him the rest of the heavy cavalry slammed into the already disorganized defenders routing them and moving on to circle back for another pass through.

Daven shouted orders to those around him, keeping a firm grip on his men while he turned looking for an appropriate target. He saw House Blanetree and House Deddings pulling back already, unwilling to stay and fight now that their initial infantry line had been broken by treachery. "Rally to me!" he bellowed, then pointed forward at the retreating Deddings. "After them lads!"

The Deddings were a small but relatively rich family, their holding like that of House Vance or Atranta actually on the other side of the red Fork. They had never been a powerful house, always hovering on the edge of noble and lordly status, but that balance was broken now as Daven led his men after them.

Lord Deddings turned, and saw the heavy cavalry racing down on his man. He tried to form up his infantry, tried to get a semblance of a spear line ready to receive them, but failed to do so in time, and the horse of the heavy cavalry rode his men down. Several horsemen were skewered from the saddle despite this, but the infantry's lack of a true line allowed the shock of the heavy cavalry hitting them to do its work. Deddings himself, his sons and two knights sworn to his family, realizing the battle was lost, spurred their own horses away. That was the final straw for his men, and they broke utterly.

Seeing the lord getting away, Daven rounded up two of his men and went after them, letting the destruction of Deddings's infantry to the other knights. Within moments he had caught up to the fleeing lord. Daven personally dueled with him for several moments, before an overhand blow shattered the other man's shield before cutting deep through his helmet, slicing into his head with a sound like a melon shattering. Over the next few hours Daven crushed house Deddings into the dirt, utterly breaking that house killing its Lord and both his sons, before harrying Blanetree, killing many of that houses' men over the course of the day, but failing to get Ser Blanetree himself.

Still staring through his viewing glass Tywin smiled grimly. "Push the light cavalry across. Their lines are broken, harry them into the ground."

House Lolliston's men stood and fought where they were grimly, but without their lord and with their flank open they were slowly ground under. House Vance and House Shawney fought similarly, with House Shawney's men regaining coordination then slowly falling back but under good order now. That screw up had been because the heir of House Lolliston sent out with the light cavalry to run the archer probe down had tried to give orders to his line when they retreated, but now he and his men were following Lord Shawney's command as well.

Lord Stephen Shawney was an able commander, having fought against the Ironborn numerous times during the rebellion and even spent a year in Essos as a mercenary before being forced to return when his father died of old age to take up the Lordship. He knew when a battle was lost, and began to slowly pull his men back from the defensive line.

House Vance of Atranta had played the game of war magnificently up to this point, but this one mistake, coming out into the open, doomed them. With their lines broken the three sons of house Vance who were present each had a different idea of what to do, and as a consequence their men were stuck where they were.

That proved deadly, and as Lord Shawney began to fall back to the west deeper into their territory between the Blue Fork and Red Fork, House Vance's men were slowly being left behind. Without a central commander who knew what they were doing, they were quickly circled, more and more infantry coming up on every side and piling in forcing them away from prepared defenses and cutting them down.

Ronald 'the Bad' Vance, the oldest brother tried to break through with a force of hoarded heavy cavalry, but by that point there were too many of the infantry surrounding his position, and he couldn't get up enough momentum to break through. For any cavalry force momentum was everything, if a heavy cavalry man was pinned in place, he lost his greatest advantage, and that happened now. Ronald fell, pulled down by the infantry of House Lannister and slain. Yet his assault had given his two brothers, Hugo and Ellery, the chance to get away themselves with a small band of cavalry. They retreated from the battlefield, only to be caught the next day by Lord Marbrand and his House's light cavalry. Fighting to the death, they took an equal number of men down with them, but still fell.

In total, House Vance had lost almost all of the strength it had sent to war in this attempt to hold back the Lannister forces, having broken from their winning strategy and paying for it with almost total annihilation. If that would have been the case if House Vypren had not turned its coat would be debated years later by maesters who studied the War of Reformation, as this war came to be called. Reality however could not be changed, and the reality was that Tywin Lannister had won the day.

OOOOOOO

The next day dawned with Lord Tywin in full possession of the Kneeling Man's Ford, but his losses had been heavier than he had hoped. Several thousand men now lay dead, especially among his archers and infantry. The Riverlands archers had taken a truly deadly toll among his own, killing two for every one of them that went down, and until House Vypren had turned coat, the infantry line had held against his own men, their higher position and wider line allowing them to wreak a deadly toll when combined with his inability to bring his full numbers to play before their lines were broken, not having the room to spread out in the Ford.

Staring at the blood-soaked battlefield Tywin sighed shaking his head. "We lost."

"Sir?" said Ser Tybolt Heatherspoon, head of a house of landed knights sworn to the Lannisters. He was looking at his lord now in shock. "We won the battle."

"But lost the initiative you young idiot." Tywin said shaking his head. "It'll take days for our cavalry to regroup, either light or heavy." Tywin wasn't worried about them overreaching or riding into anything they couldn't handle, he had faith in his commanders, nor was he prepared to call them back. He wanted those Houses harried as much is possible, though Shawney had retreated too intact for that to occur to them, especially with his heavy cavalry already chasing down Blanetree.

He could've used them to break up the Shawney line, but he had mistakenly put them all under the command of Daven, who had gone after the first groups to break off rather than remaining engaged to hopefully be used against a better target. It had been an excellent tactical move, but showed his inexperience when dealing with a larger battle.

Tywin turned aside from the view of the ford to stare at Lord Vypren. The lord was a thin, sallow faced man who moved in fits and starts, but was reputed to be very quick, with a snake's reflexes. "You played your role well." Tywin said sparing the man a nod. "Fairmarket will be yours, once we take it. That will happen well in the future however."

Lord Vypren nodded his head. "I am of course at your service Lord Lannister. Never let it be said that we are traitors to the crown, after all."

"Of course." Tywin said smiling thinly.

Over the next few two weeks the news of his victory at the ford spread, bringing several new houses to his banner. House Whent, house Wode, House Darry, all houses on the southern side of the Red Fork sent messengers to him, stating that they would bend the knee to the King. He ordered them to muster their men, and to besiege Raventree Hall.

With the uttered decimation of house Vance's forces and the death of three of its sons, House Blackwood remained the only powerful house on the southern side of the Red Fork with its forces intact that had not yet bent the knee. Their men were still hitting his supply line, but if he put their Castle under siege, it would force those men back home to defend it. Obviously of course such a move would take time, and news of those houses marching towards Raventree Hall would spread, giving Tywin the desired result.

At those orders Lord Bracken smiled his eyes lighting up with eagerness. Tywin looked at the man then nodded. "You may pull your forces back as well Lord Bracken. Leave enough men to continue to guard the supply lines from your castle up to our current position, but other than that go and claim your prize."

With that seen to, and news of Daven returning, Tywin dismissed Lord Bracken and the others to wait for his nephew alone in his command tent. He stared down at the map, estimating distances, travel times and other things. When he heard the flaps of his tent open and closed he said without turning around "I trust you have good news for me Daven?"

"Some good and some bad my Lord." Daven replied, moving in front of Tywin before taking a knee.

"Get up." Tywin scoffed, shaking his head. "What news?"

"My forces and I were able to harry House Deddings forces into the ground, if more than two or three of those men survived it would be a minor miracle. It will not include the Lord himself, or any member of his family that was here at the battle."

"Good." Tywin said nodding his head sharply. With Deddings out of the way that was one less family that could fight him on the southern side of the Red Fork. Their keep too would be a source of remuneration for his troops as well as supplies. "And what was the rest of the news?"

His nephew grimaced, tugging at his now unkempt goatee. "We were able to cut down at least half, maybe more than two thirds of the men wearing house Blanetree colors, that's what took us so long. But the rest of them reached the Ruby Ford, and I have to say that we made the right decision to cross here."

"That sounds ominous." Tywin said and though his words were lighthearted his gaze pinning Daven in place was not.

"I have no idea who is in charge over there my Lord, but those defenses made the ones here look like nothing. Ditches have been shoveled out of the earth on the other side of the Ruby Fork, with a full palisade thrown up after them, large ones, at least a man's height in places, and at worst coming up here on a normal man." Daven said gesturing at his waist. "Even worse, I think I saw some small catapults set up well behind the defense line. I lost over a dozen men trying to follow Ser Blanetree's men to archers, they looked like pincushions!"

Tywin grit his teeth shaking his head. He had hoped that the houses on the other side of the Green Fork would at least have taken a wait-and-see attitude, but if they had prepared that good a defense of the Ruby ford…

"We truly have lost the initiative." he said shaking his head.

"With respect uncle, I think we lost it the moment the Houses here joined together."

Tywin nodded. "I underestimated their loyalty to House Tully, or perhaps their hatred of us."

"The rumors that Lord Stannis has spread seem to have been the tipping point, uncle…"Daven said hesitantly, licking suddenly dry lips. "We took a few prisoners, and all of them were saying that no true man would, would bend the knee to a King who's…"

"Enough!" Tywin barked making his nephew shut up. "There is no way my daughter and son would have acted in such a manner, it is simply propaganda, well-chosen by Stannis I'll admit, but propaganda all the same." And Tywin was certain of that. Surely his catching them when they were young would have been enough to scare the two idiots. Whether or not that meant that the three royal children were illegitimate he did not know, nor care, really.

Tywin went on in a much calmer tone. "I've already sent word to my brother to push the second echelon through the Golden Tooth to us here. I don't know where Stannis is or what he's doing, but perhaps our being here rather than further north might prove advantageous to us."

Left unsaid was the fact that his losses among his infantry forces and most particularly his archers meant that taking the remaining castles even the few between here and Fairmarket would be too costly. They would bleed his army dry, leaving no men left to take Fairmarket, especially since by that point he had no doubt the reinforcements from House Mallister would've arrived.

"Should we retreat to King's Landing milord?"

"No." Tywin replied shaking his head. "We might've lost the initiative for now, but I refuse to allow us to be pushed entirely on the defensive like that. King's Landing will be reinforced by Lord Serret and the force I ordered sent there already. No, we'll wait here for the second echelon, then either march north in force through Fairmarket to the Twins or against Renly or Stannis. For now, the Riverlanders showed us what we need to do. We'll fortify the ford here then fortify Harrenhall as well before taking Darry and Harrowway. That will force the Riverlanders and the Northerners to fight us in set, defensive battles where we can bleed them while husbanding our own forces."

Plus this will give me time to discover what Stannis is doing, and get an idea of how Renly is acting as a general. Perhaps it will turn out to be a good thing I was forced to remain here rather than moving further north…Tywin thought to himself grimly.

"I don't like it uncle, if you don't mind me saying. We're facing too many enemies. I would recommend we retreat entirely if we hadn't already brought several houses of the Riverlands to our side. As it is, perhaps we should… figure out ways to let them take the positions of most glory in any battle?"

"That is a good idea, and I know we are facing too many foes at present." Tywin said, being more open with his family member than he normally was, but willing to for this one moment. "But I don't think the North will arrive as quickly as the Riverlanders propaganda said they would. In fact I can guarantee it." Tywin finished, smiling grimly.

Directly after the battle he had sent a raven forward to the Twins containing a very simple message. 'Hold them, harry them. You wanted to be Lord Paramount, earn it, or else.'

OOOOOOO

Tugging at his close cropped salt-and-pepper beard Lord Blackwood stared out from one of the towers set into the walls of Raventree Hall at the army encamped outside his walls. "I think they brought enough men to the party don't you?" he said looking at his second-in-command, his firstborn son Brynden.

Both men had been leading separate groups or armsmen attacking Lannister supplies in Bracken land. That hated house had taken over the duty of supplying the Lannister army almost in its entirety.

Like his father Brynden was a tall man, thin of shoulders but quick of limb, and the same long hooked nose of their family. His eyes were also dark, and his hair long down to his shoulders like his father. In response to his father's comment he laughed though there was no humor in the sound. "For my part father, I would rather it was all Bracken men out there."

"Hah!" laughed the older man, shaking his head. "The Bracken's alone could never take Raventree Hall, not by siege and they know it." The castle of House Blackwood was old, but it had been renovated several times unlike many others in the Riverlands. It had stone walls five stories tall, with powerful towers at each corner and two more even larger guard towers over the only gate in the wall. It also had a moat around it.

"True," said his other son Lucas scratching at the beard he was trying and, his father had to be honest failing, to grow. For all that he was in his 20s the young man simply couldn't grow any hair on his face, much like his younger brothers. "But at the same time, I can't believe so many Houses went over to the Lannisters. I knew the Bracken's would jump at the chance to eliminate us, but the others?"

Tytos frowned, nodding his head at that. "Fear, ambition and the vagaries of battle have done for much of that my son. It would not surprise me to learn that many of those houses would back whoever seems strongest at the time." His contempt for that idea was plain to see and both of his sons nodded grimly though that didn't change the situation.

Outside their wall was an army, of around eight thousand or so, though only a bare two thousand were flying the Lannister flag. The rest were all made up of other Riverlands Houses, the Whents, Wodes, Lychesters, Darrys and of course Brackens.

"It's a shrewd move by the old gold shitting bastard." Tytos went on, shaking his head. "I don't think he really believes they'll be able to take us, not by assault at any rate, but they pen us in place, forced us to pull our strength back to defend Raventree Hall rather than raid his supply lines."

Indeed, Tytos and Lucas had both been leading such raids when news of the defeat at the Toad's Treason had reached them. They had immediately begun to pull their various raiding parties back but arrived back barely ahead of the first group of reavers to reach their lands.

Luckily, Lord Hoster's initial message to his lords had enabled Blackwood to begin to draw in supplies from his lands, as well as order his smallfolk to prepare to abandon their properties and pull back to his keep at a moment's notice. This added to the number of mouths they had to feed of course, but it also added to the force he could put on the wall, so much so he actually had more men in his walls then the besiegers, though not nearly as many were trained armsmen.

And he thought grimly to himself, that'll force that army out there to bring in its own provisions. No army can really despoil the land as well as the smallfolk who own it, they'll learn that to their cost in the coming days. I wonder how long Bracken can continue to supply both the Lannister force and this army at the same time.

Brynden nodded, unconsciously echoing his father's thoughts. "We've got plenty of provisions, plenty of manpower, and our own well. We could hold out for years here, tying up that force out there easily."

"We won't have to hold out for years." Lucas said grimly. "One way or the other."

Tytos looked at his sons smiling thinly, a smile they both returned. Three days before the battle at the crossing had occurred news had flown out from Riverrun on Raven's wings. The North was on the march, and the man who had killed the Mountain That Rode was leading them to the defense of his grandfather and his country.

"We can hold." said Tytos grimly loosening his sword and his scabbard. "We can hold until the wolves come to relieve us. And then." he said grimly looking over at his sons " Then we ravens feed on Bracken blood once more."

"Pity it can't be the Bloody Mummers." Lucas growled, his eyes flashing with anger. "What they did to House Smallwood still needs to be paid for, whatever rumor says Tywin did to the Goat."

Brynden scoffed, pushing his brother's shoulder playfully. "You'd only prefer that because you're enamored of Lady Carellen." The Smallwood ladies had escaped with the aid of a few loyal knights sworn to their house during the surprise assault that took Acorn Hall. Lord Theomar hadn't been so lucky, and had died when Vargo Hoat set fire to his keep. "Or is it lady Ravella you fancy? She may be old, but that body!"

While Lucas blushed and pushed his older brother back Tytos rolled his eyes at their antics.

Just then a voice shouted out from the army surrounding Raventree hall, ending the lad's merriment. Jonos Bracken's voice made Tytos and his sons all grit their teeth angrily. "Blackwood! I know you can hear me! Surrender, you can't hope to win! If you surrender now, I'll spare you and your family!"

Tytos looked out from the murder hole he had previously been using, trying to find where Jonos was, but he couldn't. But I don't have to see him to respond appropriately to that little bit of idiocy. He moved over to an interior murder hole, shouting down into the courtyard of his castle. "Hoster, Ben, could you give that bastard out there our response?"

Both his younger sons laughed, then began to work frantically with their men, loading up a large catapult that had been constructed inside the walls. Moments later a load of stones was sent hurling into the sky, to land among the besieging army, causing screams and cries of agony and shock.

Tytos raced back to the murder hole, shouting out. "That for your offer, your traitorous dog! I'll never submit to a child of incest, or to Bracken scum!" With that, the siege of Raventree Hall began.

OOOOOOO

The small dock by the edge of the Neck where the Kingsroad wound its way out of the Neck was used by men of the swamps to transport their goods down into the Riverlands had no name. It never grew to need one. It was simply a series of buildings to house any trader heading down into the Riverlands, as well as their goods. Most of the time it had at least a few traders, but now however it was lifeless.

House Frey had put its strength out into the field, and the first move had been to send a small band of raiders to harass the crannogmen from house Haigh. They descended on the docks enforcing the crannogmen there to pull up stake and retreat into the swamp. None of the traders died, but several of them sported broken arms and bruises from the beatings of the Haigh men. These were not warriors after all, these were tradesmen, not even hunters really since the hunters gave them the goods to trade away.

The hunters of the crannogmen came out that night, and four of the five men of house Haigh on guard died under their bows and tridents before they faded back into the Neck as easily as a lizard lion. The next day, the men of House Haigh pulled back from the Neck slightly, and began to dig in, waiting for their lords to arrive.

All that however was a more of a sideshow at present. House Frey had sent a group of cavalry to reinforce House Erenford, another Erenford beholden to them. Erenford had put forth its entire strength under Ser Erenford down to the new port being constructed where the Bite was closest to the Kings Road. A hunter tracking a cougar had reported seeing the work, and gotten word back to Erenford who passed it on to Old Walder.

Much like the small dock by the Kingsroad the original position Ranma and the others had talked about was used irregularly at best, when House Manderly sent a raven indicating White Harbor wished to trade for medicines. The original dock was also close enough to the Neck to put men there in danger of the various bugs that carried diseases to those who didn't have any immunity to them. So after talking to a few ships captains, Wendel had made a command decision to start to create the supply depot from scratch a half day's sailing further down.

This position wasn't quite as close to the Kingsroad, being five days ride away rather than three days. The ground there was rocky hardscrabble and not very hospitable. Ostensibly under the control of House Erenford, there was nothing there to draw any settlers or even crannogmen to it. Here however the near constant wind coming off the Bite kept the bugs away, which was a major plus, and some of the stones were large enough to be used to help construct the depot in various ways.

The makeshift dock was still small, but it had allowed them to put ashore the men and materials to start work on the depot. Wood brought all the way down from House Cerwyn's land and then transshipped here was quickly put in place. The men, over a hundred carpenters brought down from White Harbor plus the infantry troops under their direction quickly went to work. Soon they had built longhouses for the men, which would double later as a way point for the army's supplies. From there they had then begun to put up a small barricade around the depot, but work on that had just started when the forces of Erenford neared.

Moreover, the entire force from House Manderly and Locke had been put ashore. But the horses, even after only two weeks at sea, needed some days to recuperate after the sea voyage to get their legs back. Therefore it was up to the infantry to protect the depot, backed by the bows of House Locke, five hundred archers sent down to represent them in the army the North had mustered.

It was this sight that greeted Ser Erenford at the head of a force of his own house, almost six hundred men plus three hundred more sent to him by House Frey. His orders had been simple: find out what they were doing on the shore of the Bite, and if they were doing something that would bother House Frey either in the war or in the long term, stop them.

Looking at the number of men already down there, as well as the defenses that were being put up Ser Emmon Erenford made a decision. This decision would haunt his house for its remaining lifetime which could, because of said decision, be measured in less than two months.

"We hit them now." He decided, looking around at his men mostly heavy and light cavalry. "If we can break them now, before those horses down there get their legs under them, we can drive them back into the sea and put that place to the torch."

"In fact." Emmon went on looking around at two men in particular. "Get some torches now, there's nothing like a fire during a battle to divide the enemy's attention."

Ser Erenford should not be blamed for his ignorance. Throughout human history, there has been a sort of misconception about cavalry, tied in with the ego of the human mind. A person who is sitting up on a horse looking down at other men tend to believe that he is a better man than they are, that he is somehow stronger, more honorable. Tied into this is that horses have always been the purview of the rich. But despite this, a well-trained, well led and organized infantry force that stands its ground and has any kind of polearm, a spear, halberd, a bayonet on top of a rifle, or a pike could eat a cavalry charge for lunch.

Now while his house wasn't rich, Emmon Erenford was a knight, a cavalryman down to his toes. He firmly believed in the might of the cavalry charge. Moreover, he could not see the organization in the work going on down there. He could not see that there was always at least one group of a hundred men standing idle near the edge of the supply depot.

He could not see that among the workers busily creating log houses, or enlarging the wharf for greater cargo capacity, were men who did not stray far from hidden bows. While Emmon could see the infantry down there were better armored than most, he didn't see the giant pikes the heavy infantry had been trained with. Those were hidden near where the infantry were helping the carpenters. Wendel was a wily man, and had prepared for trouble from the get go.

Worse, the terrain was against Erenford. The land here was hardscrabble with very few trees and only scattered boulders that a large group could use as cover to get closer. Even his scouts couldn't get very close without running the risk of being seen.

The Freys commander, one of old Walder's numerous sons shook his head. "I, I don't know Ser Erenford. That's awfully good armor those men down there are wearing, especially if they aren't expecting trouble. Besides, from what your scouts could tell us we barely outnumber them. I think we should wait for more reinforcements. We can keep them locked up instead, and find out why they're building a port here in the first place."

"No we can't." Erenford said shaking his head sharply. "Didn't you hear the scouts report about the number of heavy horses they've unloaded? Those aren't draft animals man, those are warhorses! My scouts might not know how to count very high, but they could tell that there were more horses down there than we've got. If we let those horses recover from their voyage, they'll be able to match us."

As a knight himself, Emmon knew that heavy cavalry could prey very easily on light. They weren't quite as fast of course, but they moved fast enough, and their heavy armor and heavier weapons made them deadly against the mostly leather armor of light cavalry. His force only had around a hundred-fifty heavy cavalry, less than a fifth of what was down there.

The Frey man looked at the scouts. Both of them nodded agreement. Sighing against his better judgment he nodded in turn. "Alright. That's a bit more overt than my father wanted us to be, but I think he'll understand the reasoning."

Within moments, a little under a thousand men on horseback thundered over the scrub towards the supply depot, coming up over the small rise they had been hiding behind. With no cover they were spotted immediately, but rather than the panic and shock that Ser Erenford had expected to see, three horn blasts rang out. First one horn sounded from near the edge of the depot, obviously some kind of warning. Then two more from deeper within the northerner's position, signaling some kind of order, Erenford thought.

In response the hundred men near the outskirts of the encampment grabbed up helmets and pike. Their sergeants, men chosen from among the levies for their intelligence and strength of character by Jon during their training, began to bellow orders. Quickly they moved out of the encampment moving into a tight line abreast two deep to face the oncoming rush of cavalry. The sides of their line were anchored on one side by the unfinished palisades stretching down to where the galleys and their scorpions could take the attackers under fire and on the other the wall of the outermost longhouse.

Elsewhere archers put down their tools, grabbing up their bows and quivers rushing for their positions while the actual carpenters ducked inside the nearest longhouses.

Wendel, despite being a knight himself was his father's son, an organizer. He had absorbed everything about the need for organization in an army, and had drilled his men on certain horn calls on the trip down here. Moreover the pikemen he had may have been levies from White Harbor, but they had been sent up to Winterfell to train under Jon Snow. These were not barely-trained levies, men taken from all walks of life from farmers to city folk suddenly given a weapon and told to go fight. Nor were they warriors, not trained practically since boyhood like most armsmen were, but pikes were a simple weapon in comparison to a longsword.

No, these were soldiers, and that made them a very different kettle of fish. If they had been dropped into Rome, the Roman legionnaires would've known their own despite their weapons. If they had been dropped into the army of Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden, they would've fit right in with a pike regiment (after several more months of training and experience).

At another signal the pikes came down, held firmly in the hands of the men behind them, a bristling wall of metal points facing out against the Erenford cavalry that was attempting to ride them down. At the sight, more than one of the mounted men faltered, but the others, as infected with the disease of cavalry ruling the battlefield as their head of house, continued with the charge. Their horses however began to try and shy away, slowing their advance.

Archers began to fire and men to tumble out of their saddles but that was more of a sideshow to the slaughter that those pikes wreaked on the Calvary when the two forces met. Pikes outreached lances by a wide margin. Those heavy pike heads smashed into and through breastplates, slicing into horseflesh and riders with equal ease. Cries of the wounded began to abound, some even cried to the Seven to aid them, but there was no such help here.

Even where the weight of the charge got past the first row of pike, they only ran into the second. In one or two places where they could push that pike or this one aside in the second row, cut down a man here and there they couldn't enlarge the holes before more men came up, the dismounted heavy cavalry of Manderly cutting their horse's stomachs from below. And always those pikes kept stabbing, stabbing forward.

Wendel bellowed commands to his men, backing up the pikes killing what few men could break through the two person line. Soon however more pikemen came up from behind them, reinforcing the two deep formation of infantry. "Hold them!" he bellowed, "Hold them!"

Killing one man by thrusting his sword up into his side underneath his chest plate, he pulled the man down. Then with difficulty Wendel lifted his heavy body into the saddle of the horse before it could bolt, regally not noticing that a few of his fellow knights had to push him up given his girth. He pulled the horse around as it tried to race away, maddened by the smell of blood and not particularly well-trained alas. Still, Wendel did not become a knight by not having horse skills. Seconds later he had his makeshift mount under control and turned it gazing out over the battle.

The front of the battle was a snarl now, the initial cavalry rush having broken against the pike but the man behind them still pressing forward for now. That wouldn't last. Their horses, mad with the smell of blood and hearing the screams of their wounded herd-mates would bolt regardless of what their riders wanted. Unless they can get around the front of the pike line on the other side of the longhouse. He spotted the next group of pike and shouted "Break into groups of twenty five, first two guard the left flank, one to a side!"

The men did so, their sergeants following his order quickly. Soon there was a line of pike on facing out from the edge of the longhouse, anchored further by its edge now being within range of the ships out in The Bite.

He held back the remaining pikemen, waiting, waiting for the moment when the cavalry charge rebounded on itself. Wendel was a veteran, admittedly more against bandits, pirates, and a particularly recalcitrant minor house from the former Bolton lands than real war. Despite that, he was extremely well-trained, and his father and Lord Stark had both gone on at length about 'the moment'. It was that brief moment when an attacker realizes his attack has failed, but before he does anything about it. When the attackers morale broke enough for them to start to run, but before they did so en-masse.

Wendel watched from his vantage point at the back of the infantry formation and saw it. The horses began to override their rider's control, and those riders too were now panicking, trying to break off. But those at the back, especially the few with torches, were stopping them from pulling away quickly. He signaled one of his men who had remained behind the main battle with a horn. "Sound advance."

With that command the last two hundred plus pikemen joined the battle. At the horns bellow all the infantrymen along the main line of battle began to march forwards, the men at the back pushing the men in front of them forward, their pikes all leveled in one direction.

The cavalry broke. No, it didn't break, it shattered. It had barely been holding the space it could when faced with two lines of pike, with five, and all of them now marching forward rather than holding station, they couldn't even do that. On that bloody field the strength of House Erenford broke, shattered in its entirety along with Emmon Erenford, who had been among the first to die having led the charge like any knight should. It was but the first of the death blows to rain on that house, and the losses among the Freys the first but not the last that house would take as well.

For the present Wendel didn't care about that, all he cared about was that the depot was safe for now. Even as he ordered the archers of House Locke forward to hunt down the remaining attackers, even as his fellow knights moved forward to finish off the wounded, he turned back gazing out into the sea. There, Wendell saw the quartet of galleys waiting patiently to offload. The sight, with his House's flag waving from every ship and from above the depot, made him smile.

OOOOOOO

The Frey force that had been loaned to House Erenford was not the main force that the Freys put in the field. Realizing that Lord Lannister was more than ruthless enough to take umbrage at them trying to get by without actually doing anything, Old Walder had ordered a force of two thousand men to move out from the Twins and reinforce House Haigh as they set up shop on the Kingsroad as it entered into the Neck. Far enough away from the Neck that they didn't have to worry about diseases from the various bugs of the marshes but close enough that they blocked any army coming out of the Neck along the Kingsroad from spreading out into a combat formation to match their own defensive line, which was being built like a half circle, the inner curve facing the road out of the Neck.

That was all they did. They didn't act against the crannogmen scouts they saw, the Frey men even publicly executed two men of House Haigh in clear view from the marshes. Black Walder had been put in charge of this group, and he had been ordered by his father to make a point of seeming to be reasonable to any watchers from the marshes. They were also, at the first sign of a whole army coming down the road from the north to withdraw to the Twins.

Other than that he was simply going to stay there. If a force came up Kingsroad to join them, all very well they were already starting to put in place defenses. These were ditches and earthen palisades for the most part, since the only nearby source of wood were the trees of the marshes, which were much more trouble than they were worth.

Despite this, it could be a good defensive position, or they could be meeting up with a force coming down from the north. His men didn't know, precisely the way the Freys wanted it. Old Walder wanted to play both sides, to see which side offered him the best deal, though admittedly it would take a lot to overcome Lord Lannister's offer, something solid and immediate.

OOOOOOO

Despite being hunters by profession, the men of house Reed also made excellent scouts especially on land so close to the Neck. While the Frey camp was a little too far away from the Neck for any scout to get close enough during the day, at night they didn't have that problem.

Listening to the reports Lord Reed laughed quietly. When Meera, newly returned from House Stark looked at him in puzzlement he laughed again, louder this time before speaking in his deep, scratchy voice. "The Freys aren't committing themselves. Every man in that force out there knows that they're only there as a show of force, to show the North that they could've made trouble if they wanted to, or to meet up with Lord Lannister, whichever comes first. They don't want to be pulled into full combat, but they don't realize that position is just as in danger as it is dangerous. Cowards all, and not an experienced man among them because that's the way Old Walder has always played it."

Meera nodded, shaking her head slightly at the duplicity of it. "They want to play both sides? Do you think that would work?"

"It might work for Lord Lannister. So long as the Freys seem to be following his orders he won't hammer them too badly, he probably won't be able to afford to at that point." Lord Reed shook his head. "If the Lannisters get up here first anyway. I doubt they are having an easy time of it though.

"But it won't work for Ranma. If the Freys don't change their tune when they hear what really went on in King's Landing he won't barter or bargain with them." Meera said in a tone that made her certainty plain.

" True enough. Still, the army will need to know what they might be running into. Meera, I'll be sending you in the morning to Moat Cailin to wait for the army. I'll send word to the other Neck Houses to gather up a fleet of our coracles, they might be needed."

Meera nodded, eager to see Ranma, Jon and Arya again.

Her father smiled, though inwardly wondered if she would be coming back to Greywater Watch anytime soon. House Reed did need to be represented at least a bit in the expedition being sent south after all. Meera was an excellent scout and hunter, as at home in a forest or on a plain as in a marsh. Only a fool would not see that and wish to add her to his army, and Ranma Stark was anything but a fool.

He shrugged inwardly, knowing that children often had to leave home to grow. He had no wish to see Meera hurt, but neither would he hold her back.

OOOOOOO

At the same time that the Freys and their allies were making trouble for house Reed, the army had arrived at Castle Cerwyn, covering the same distance in a day that had taken a day and a half for Robert's party to travel. It's amazing how not stopping every few hours to go hunting and actually pushing the pace does for said pace, Ranma thought.

This was one of many thoughts occupying Ranma's head as he tried desperately to ignore the whispering going on behind him between Alayaya and Daenerys. Myrcella too was there, the three girls of course sticking together. Merry was even sharing a horse with Daenerys, the two of them far less weight than a man in armor even though Daenerys wore lizard lion plate, left over from the scales of the beast Ranma had killed all those months ago. But from what he could see of Merry's red face seemed to indicate that she was not taking part in the conversation.

Oh, and now they've started to use hand gestures lovely, he thought, having caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. Indeed, Daenerys was twisting her fingers in the air for a moment as if demonstrating something, while Alayaya was shaking her head in return. Behind Ranma's silver-haired wife Merry was now as red as an apple, her face buried in her companion's hair. Oh look, now Dacey has fallen back to join them, even worse.

He and Smalljon, who was riding beside him just then, shared a glance before Smalljon spurred his horse slightly and Ranma nodded moving along beside him with ease. At this point, Ranma thought to himself as they raced on moving further down the column of the army, I'd rather face lady Jonelle rather than hear more of that conversation!

Several hours later Ranma was questioning that decision as he dodged a second plate thrown his way. "How dare you!" Jonelle shrieked, glaring at him. "No, my son is too young to go to war!"

"Now lady calm…" Ranma began then was forced to dodge again as Jonelle, showing a decent arm threw a plate like it was a Frisbee at where his head had previously been. It crashed against the wall behind him, and Ranma winced again while the copper of the plate made a ringing tone against the rock.

"I won't let you! I won't let you take my little boy to war!"

Outside the private dining Hall where this conversation was going on Lord Cerwyn turned to Jon. "So, lovely weather we're having lately."

Jon snorted, while inside the noise of a mother in full rage went on for several more minutes.

Rickard and Greatjon stood with them. Greatjon was laughing, one large hand muffling the sound for fear of attracting Jonelle's attention out here. Rickard however was looking rather askance, since it was certainly not normal for a Lord Paramount let along a King to have to calm down a noblewoman when taking her son to ward.

He didn't know how close Cerwyn and Stark had become of late, nor that Jonelle had a miscarriage before Cley, making him even dearer to her. Besides, Ranma saw the older woman as a friend, and if it helped her become accustomed to the idea of her son being away by venting at him, he was fine with that. Moreover, he didn't want his friends to see him as a lord first, just Ranma, and it was as a man taking her son away rather than her Lord Paramount that Ranma stood in front of Jonelle.

Soon Jonelle ran out of things to throw. Ranma breathed a sigh of relief as the last plate slammed into the wall behind him holding up his hands placatingly. "My lady please, I'm not going to let him fight in a battle or anything like that, I'm just taking him along as my ward. He'll help take care of the horses of the rest of the wolfsworn, help us take care of our tents, sometimes bring us food from the campfires, that kind of thing. You know regular young squire stuff, no pitched battles."

At least I hope so. Ranma thought but did not say aloud. There was always a chance that Cley would be forced to fight at some point in the future, but he would try to keep that from happening. But he wanted Cley along. House Cerwyn was the closest geographically to House Stark and they didn't have a representative among the wolfsworn at this point. They were the only powerful noble house that didn't since Hathan counted as coming from House Manderly.

Jonelle glared at him. Normally she had a soft spot for Ranma and Jon too. They were both good boys, and she could all too easily remember the days when Ranma began to stop by as his father's voice, always bringing such brightness and cheer to the castle. Now however, he had come not to bring cheer, but to take her little boy away.

"Promise me!" she said abruptly moving over to stand within inches of Ranma, glaring into his face. "Promise me on your honor as a Stark that my son won't be thrown into any battle, that you will try your damndest to make sure that, that he comes home without even a scratch on him."

Ranma opened and closed his mouth for a moment then asked plaintively "Do scratches from training count?" He quailed under her glare. One thing that had not changed from his old life to this one, Ranma did very poorly in the face of feminine fury. Still, he was getting better, at least he wasn't trying to run for the hills or insult Jonelle to start a completely different argument.

Across from him Jonelle began to tear up, and then she abruptly flung her arms around Ranma. Hesitantly Ranma put his arms around her shoulders as she sobbed into his chest. "Please, Ranma, he's my only boy, my son. I don't, I don't want him to, to come back like all too many boys do from war, scarred inside and out! Please, promise me he'll be safe!"

Without even a second's hesitation Ranma answered, his voice unwontedly formal. "I Promise on my honor as a Stark that I will do my best to keep your son safe, my lady."

"Good." Jonelle then smiled grimly, wiping away her remaining tears as she pulled back from the hug. "Now, if you could be so good as to send in my father, I wish to speak with him."

Ranma winced again, but didn't say anything, simply smirking a little after giving the older woman one last hug.

Leaving the room he spotted Jon ,Lord Cerwyn and the rest of what he was mentally calling his command staff. Greatjon in particular had a wide grin on his face as did Rickard though his smile was smaller and he tried his best to hide it behind a hand. "I notice my lords that none of you were volunteering to explain events to the lady." He said glaring at them all though in particular Lord Cerwyn.

Jon and the other wolfsworn at least looked somewhat guilty at that, but the others simply laughed. Cerwyn's laughter stopped abruptly however when Ranma went on. "Oh and Medger, your daughter wants to speak to you." With that he walked off with the others Greatjon's laughter now booming out unrestrained, following him, leaving Medger to his uncertain fate.

He found Daenerys already ensconced in their room, still wincing as she walked. He shook his head. "I am sorry about that, I guess we did go a little overboard."

"A little?" Daenerys asked tartly, before calming down. "I'm sorry Ranma. I really would like to…" she blushed. "To continue from last night, but my lower body is telling me that would be a very bad idea, especially with days of riding to look forward to."

"That's fine, I rule my body, not the other way around." Ranma said with a shrug, falling into the bed next to her. He pulled Daenerys to him. "Instead we can just cuddle Dae."

"Dae?" Daenerys sat up looking down at him through narrowed eyes, reminding Ranma a little too much of Jonelle at that moment. "What is that?"

"Er, a pet name? Um, some couples make them up for one another." Ranma replied, slightly nervously. "Er, would you prefer Narys?"

"No, just no. When we're alone, Dae is fine." Daenerys smiled as she said that, leaning down to kiss Ranma lightly on the lips. "More than fine actually, I like it, it just surprised me, no one's ever given me a pet name before. Now, you were saying something about cuddling?"

Ranma smiled, gathering Daenerys into his arms once more. "Glad you like it, Dae." At the foot of their bed Fenris and the two draklings laid back down, certain now this was some odd bit of the human mating ritual nonsense.

The next day the army moved out, with Cley now riding a horse his grandfather had chosen out of the castles stable for him in the center of the wolfsworn. Cley was an eleven year old boy, stout and strong of limb, and eager to see the world and get to know Ranma better, who he had always looked up to. He was sad to leave his family behind, but what could you do? Roger and Eddy immediately began to quiz him about their route, while the rest of the wolfsworn talked about the coming campaign with Rickard and Greatjon.

The day wore on, with nothing untoward happening until after they had stopped for rest and a quick meal. The army was traveling as quickly as possible, so the stops happened four times a day but were short, just enough to drink some water and water the horses before moving on. The midday stop was longer, while the officers made certain the men were fed a light but filling meal before starting the march once more.

At the back of the column there was a rather short swordsman in House Stark colors whose fellows had noticed that he kept to himself. They would even be hard pressed to say if he had joined them in either the camp of castle Cerwyn's barracks the night before. At the edge of their marching formation he looked up as a direwolf suddenly slunk out of the scrubland around them. While around them the men gaped in astonishment he grinned, removing his helmet to reveal that he was not in fact a 'he' at all but a most specific 'she'. More than one man who had reached for his weapon gaped as Arya Stark pulled herself onto Nymeria's back, and the two of them, with Arya waving farewell at the men moved up to the front of the column.

At the front of the army Ranma was finishing up a discussion detailing the continued order of the march and assigning everyone the command positions. Jon was quartermaster, along with Daryn. The two of them had the best head for numbers of the group for now, though that might change when more maesters joined them later on.

He had split the heavy Cavalry into two wings, putting Greatjon and Rickard in command of each, with Hathan and Roger as their seconds. Ranma took personal command of what he was starting to call the First Grenadiers, the pike levees raised from house Cerwyn and Stark, while Edd and Dacey were given command of the regular infantry forces. The scouts were led by Brynden, easily the best for the job, with two mountain clansmen as seconds.

This was more for relaying orders in battle than anything else, considering that the men of each house already had their own command structure that would see to the day-to-day needs of their man. Or so Ranma told Rickard and Greatjon. But both of them were wise enough to know that as the war continued, the lines between house affiliations would begin to blur, and Ranma was showing remarkable forethought in already putting a command structure in place to take advantage of that.

"With Jon along with the logistics position being second-in-command of your 'Grenadiers' odd name for the pike, but I understand a good name can put spine in the men, that only leaves the archers unaccounted for." Rickard said looking down at where Ranma was marching along.

He very carefully did not let his eyes stray to where Daenerys was riding beside Ranma, or the two direwolves that were carrying the two draklings as they loped along easily. While she had impressed him with her political knowledge and her forethought a time or two in the war council and she certainly seem to be able to think fast on her feet, her ability to lead men in battle was barely tested at this point.

Daenerys didn't know that, and was about to step up to volunteer to command the archers herself, when Ranma looked over to where Domeric was playing on his instrument again. "I want Domeric to take that job, for now anyway. We'll see who House Locke sent down with their men, but for now Domeric can command them." It wasn't perfect, and that hole in the command structure would need to be filled at some point, but Ranma had someone already in mind for that. Arya wasn't nearly as good a shot as Theon, but she'd do, especially if she was simply relaying his commands.

On Ranma's other side Daenerys frowned, and was about to interject when they all began to hear shouts and exclamations from the army marching behind them. It seemed to start near the back and spread forward and the command group turned. Seeing Arya racing up to them on Nymeria, Ranma laughed. "Couldn't wait any longer little sister?"

The rest of the wolfsworn laughed too, Dacey and Roger going so far as to reach out to the young girl and slap her on the shoulders when she pulled up beside them. "Oh you know me, always pushing!" Arya laughed shaking out her hair. She didn't have long hair, she much preferred it short, but having it under a helmet all day yesterday and this morning had bothered the heck out of her. She also couldn't take it off at night, lest she give the game away when the army had stopped the evening before at castle Cerwyn.

"What is she doing here?" Rickard said aghast. "Lady," he began looking at Arya. "This was ill-done. Your parents will be worried sick, you need to return immediately! A battlefield is no place for women, and we have too many of them already."

Daenerys's eyes were not the only one to narrow at that, but it was Daenerys who spoke up, patting Myrcella's arms where they were wrapped around her waist, the two of them once more sharing a horse. "If you are speaking of the princess here or my handmaiden, you will sing a different tune after our first battle my Lord. Their ability to aid the injured has already been proven. As for myself, of course I'm along. Who else would be able to control my little ones, or speak for me to those houses that still might retain some loyalty to mine?"

Rickard scowled. While he was willing to go along with things, much like the rest of the northern lords, their loyalty was first to House Stark and then in a very distant second to Ranma's new wife. That was how they thought about Daenerys, irrespective of her dragons. Yes, those dragons represented a massive force in the future, but right now they didn't represent anything but targets. Even though they could fly and breathe fire already, Rickard had seen the two at practice, they weren't powerful enough to get him to respect Daenerys as a force to be reckoned with. He had some respect for her mind, but that was all. Nor was he as quick to overlook what her father had done to spark Robert's Rebellion as Lord Stark or the smallfolk were.

To Rickard's side however Greatjon kept his mind on the problem at hand. He scoffed. "Bah, let her stay. I assume she's been training with the rest of the wolfsworn. You've really taken that name and run with it haven't ya Ranma?"

"Of Course." Ranma said laughing louder. We might not have chosen it, but it makes for a great name for my band of friends. And, if you haven't heard uncle Arya's already been blooded in battle."

Rickard frowned not having heard that while Greatjon looked over at Jon who nodded. "She was with us when we dealt with that raiding force of former Bolton supporters who tried a sneak attack on Winterfell months back."

Looking over at Arya, Greatjon then glanced at her sword noticing the odd shape of it as well as how thin it seemed. "Bah!" he scoffed again, shaking his head almost as if he was deriding the idea of the woman warrior entirely, though his eyes were shrewd as he watched Arya for a reaction. "That little toy of hers doesn't look like it could hurt a fly!"

Arya's eyes narrowed dangerously and with a swift move her sword was already in her hand the tip pointed towards Greatjon as Nymeria maneuvered around Fenris and Ranma to be in front of his horse making it stop its trot and back away warily. "My Fang's already tasted blood in defense of my family and my home, Lord Umber! Would you like a demonstration?"

After a second spent staring into Arya's eyes Greatjon bellowed in laughter, and slapping his thigh. "You Starks! Not an ounce of give in any of you."

"This is not a laughing matter!" Rickard said glaring at his fellow lord.

"Put it like this, uncle." Arya said turning back to him, using the honorific all the Stark children had taken to use with their distant kinsman. "You can try to send me home, in which case I'll simply run away again to rejoin you later. This way at least I'm already with the army, and my brother and the others can keep an eye on me."

"In that case, why don't you get down from Nymeria and march." Ranma said phrasing it as a question but his tone making an order. "Its good training." Ranma used the word 'march' because while they were going at a brisk pace, they certainly weren't running along, the infantry could have never sustained that, but the march was going as quickly as he could push the men without utterly exhausting them.

Arya scowled, but complied.

"Besides." Daenerys said coming back into the conversation. "There is actually precedent for girls her age to go to war. During the Dance of the Dragons there was a dragon rider her age that went to war. Arya reminds me of her in other ways too, Nettles her name was."

"I don't know that one." Arya said turning away from Rickard to look up at Daenerys.

"She was a Waters, a bastard from Dragonstone, who befriended and rode a wild dragon to war. She did remarkably well, and history says that she was Prince Daemon Targaryen lover during the end of the civil war, despite him being twice her age. The bards like to sing the two of them went into exile after he was sorely wounded in the Dance over Harrenhal."

"EWWW!" Arya blanched. "Don't compare me to her if she did that!"

That caused another round of laughter, and even Rickard snorted. "Fine, but if she gets hurt Ranma, you get to explain it to your mother. If you thought Jonelle was dangerous…"

Ranma blanched, but nodded willingly.

With Arya added to their party, the march continued. That evening she openly joined the rest of the wolfsworn in practice as the Army encamped all around them, with Jon leading the practices and Ranma organizing the army. Cley too joined them, with Roger taking over his instruction for now in a pattern that they would continue to follow until they reached the moat.

OOOOOOO

That evening, Arya joined the other girls in their one, albeit rather large, tent. She stared around at them all, utterly exhausted from the day's march and exercising on top of it. But there was something that needed to be said here. "Alright, I know we're all girls, but I don't talk about girly things like dress or boys or anything like that. I definitely don't want to hear anything like that conversation you and Alayaya had on the first day out Daenerys."

Merry flushed slightly at the memory of that conversation while Alayaya laughed, but Daenerys merely cocked her head in question. "How did you overhear us?"

"I didn't, but the army saw you two talking, and that plus my brother's response to it spread quickly." Arya replied her eyes narrowing.

"You might not want to talk about boys now, Lady Stark, but you will eventually, trust me." Alayaya laughed. "At that point you should be so lucky as to have a lover as…"

"LALALA!" Arya shouted, her fingers in her ear. "I'm not listening!" That caused even Merry to laugh aloud, but after Alayaya stopped teasing Arya, the night passed much better, with Arya slowly becoming friends with the trio.

OOOOOOO

By that point Arya's disappearance had been discovered back in Winterfell. Eddard had to sit on his wife hard to stop her from taking the horse and going after the army herself to drag Arya back. Catelyn was still unhappy that Ranma and Daenerys had been married so quickly, her son had become so willful while away, returning to his wild youthful ways. But she would be damned by the Stranger before she allowed Arya out of her sight!

However Eddard would have none of it and physically restrained his wife from heading out to the stables. "We need to let her go my love." he said, even as he fought Catelyn, his leg and shoulder making this a much more even contest then it would have been otherwise. "Arya is a warrior born, much like her older brothers. You can't force her to be home something she isn't. She is our child, not a doll we can direct against her will."

"I know that!" Catelyn barked at him, unhappiness written on her face even as she began to calm down from her initial response. The words had also struck her, as she remembered a conversation she had with Myrcella, how Cersei had loved her children but never truly saw them as their own people. It would be a cold day in the Stranger's hell before Catelyn allowed herself to be anything like that woman!

Yet even so, there were some aspects of being a noblewoman that Arya could not avoid so long as she was part of the family. "But she is still my daughter, and still part of this family. She has obligations she will need to fill in the future, and letting her run around like this will only make that more painful."

Eddard winced, deciding not to bring up the fact that he would never force either of his daughters into a marriage against her will. Arya was his sister come to life again, and Eddard refused to try to stifle her. Maybe if we hadn't stifled Lyanna, she wouldn't have run away. Or at least not arranged the marriage to Robert, which looking back on it I can see was the final straw.

"Yes, but surely you heard about Ranma's plans?"

At Catelyn's raised eyebrow Eddard laughed, knowing that this wasn't actually Ranma's reasoning, but it would do for now to stave off further argument. "He plans to take Cley of house Cerwyn as his ward on the march. And Cley is almost of an age with Arya..."

Catelyn suddenly laughed. "Oh that is devious, very devious my love. Did you and Ranma think that up between you?"

"I might have had something to do with it." Eddard said, smiling slightly now that the dangerous moment had passed and leading his wife back into his study. They had been there when the servants confirmed they couldn't find Arya anywhere and that her blade was missing as well as Nymeria. "That would be an excellent marriage wouldn't it?"

"You are so very devious," Catelyn said laughing now. She was still extremely worried for her daughter's safety off course. But now that the initial rush of rage at Arya willfulness and her fear for her daughter had subsided plus the odd flash of thought comparing herself to Cersei, Catelyn knew that with her brothers beside her Arya would be almost as safe as if she was back here in Winterfell. And it was true that putting them in proximity might make something spark between her and Cley. After all they did like one another already as friends and friends sometimes did make that their spouses. "Very devious indeed."

Despite Catelyn's thoughts, however devious or cunning Eddard might have been it was proven fact that he had nothing on the experienced schemers in King's Landing…

OOOOOOO

It was with a great amount of difficulty that Cersei resisted the desire to rub her forehead with frustration. "No Littlefinger, I refuse to send you to the Vale." She said, looking angrily down the table at the man. "For one thing, you probably wouldn't even be able to reach it. It's anyone's guess on how the Riverlands houses will jump given Hoster's little maneuver there."

Unconsciously echoing her father's thoughts, Cersei thought that had been a very shrewd move. It ensured that her father would either have to deal with each house, forcing them to bend a knee one after another, or deal with open rebellion in the form of small-scale attacks here and there. Since the Westerlands army was a veteran force and her father an excellent general against untried youngsters and for the most part weary oldsters that was easily the best way that the Riverlands houses could hurt her father's army.

Petyr scowled internally, while externally he kept the same passive expression he always did on his face. In the wake of the battle of King's Landing, the one that the smallfolk were calling the Battle of Two Truths, Petyr had lost practically all of his personal forces. Mercenaries were not known for their loyalty, or for their guts when their own was in danger. The losses they had sustained in street to street fighting against the better prepared, better trained and far more physically fit Northerners had gutted his numbers, and the rest had taken their pay and left the city as quickly as possible. It would take some time to rebuild those numbers, if he could do it at all.

The only exception was the men of House Kettleblack. A knightly house from the Crownlands, they at least had some honor, but more importantly were in debt to him so much they couldn't have pulled back even if they had wanted to. That about 20 men all told under Ser Osmund, the head of that house, and his two brothers. That wasn't enough men to matter, barely enough to see to Petyr's personal safety unless he made a nuisance of himself.

So despite his position as Master of Coin Petyr was beginning to feel very nervous when it came to his personal power base. That Cersei was wary of him was no surprise, that she had been doing such a good job of trying to control him was. But so was the fact that Jaime was equally suspicious of him, and watched him almost constantly. The man's spies were ludicrously easy to lose, but his suspicion was not good for Petyr's long term prospects.

"Surely your highness, you could see your way to sending a ship? The Vale might not have that much in the way of an offensive force, but it could field some twelve thousand men or so, enough to make a difference if added to your father's forces when the North inevitably comes south."

Cersei actually smiled slightly, which puzzled Petyr, but the smile had nothing to do with what he had said. No, her smile was caused by the memory of Ranma's vow to protect her daughter. It was surprisingly liberating to know that young man, with all of his astonishing abilities, would guard her daughter with his life regardless of whether or not he would face her family across the battlefield.

A second later the smile was gone and she shook her head. "A ship is out of the question. We've had to decommission and take apart most of the royally owned ships already for their wood trebuchets. And even if we had a ship to send, are you so certain that you would be able to get past Dragonstone?"

Stannis' propaganda had reached King's Landing several weeks ago, and Cersei's initial reaction had not been pretty. She had ranted and raved for hours about the lies being spread, despite the fact that Petyr, Pycelle and Jaime all knew that they were not in fact lies. More to the point, the fact that Stannis was prepared to interdict any traffic coming in and out of Blackwater Bay was a given.

Petyr conceded that, but still persisted. If he could get to the Vale, he could convince Lysa to turn over most of the power of the Lord Paramount's seat to him, and with the Vale as a power base he would become both useful to the Lannisters, and independent of them somewhat. "I understand your reluctance your Majesty, and I am most heartened by your worry over my personal safety. However, I still think it would be an excellent idea to at least send an envoy. If not me, then who do you have that knows anything about the Vale lands?"

There was also Petyr's fervent wish to not be in the King's Landing when Lord Lannister arrived. Whatever else might be said about him, Tywin Lannister was an incredibly effective ruler, and had proven this both as Lord of the Westerlands and as King's Hand before he and Aerys began to fall out. That Lord Lannister would have no truck with Petyr's little games, or that he might see right through all of the tricks Petyr used to hide how he had 'helped' the debt of the nation along, was a severe worry to the man.

"No one, I'll admit" Cersei replied honestly. "However as I said, sending an envoy at this time is impossible." Then she decided to throw the man a bone. "When the first reinforcements from the Westerlands arrive with Lord Serret, then we will have the men necessary to send with you on an overland trip to the Vale so long as the houses in the Riverlands along the route to the Bloody Gate have not thrown in their lot with the Baratheons or the Starks. At that time we will come back to this discussion."

Knowing that was as far as he could get without some kind of lever to force Cersei to see his point of view Petyr bowed his head. With that done, Cersei turned to Pyrcelle and her brother. "How goes preparing the defenses of the city?"

His little, arrogant smirk as usual on his face Jaime shrugged. That expression would normally have set Cersei's pulse to racing but only made her even more tired at the moment. "The Stokeworth and Rosby men are fully integrated into our defenses. We finished work on the various barracks for them near the walls yesterday. It's good strategic sense to have the most battle ready forces closer to the outer walls, though Lord Stokeworth took umbrage at it. He didn't like the fact that they are billeted here in the castle while their men were all out by the outers walls. The man Rosby sent with his forces, Ser Adrian Waters, didn't have a problem with it."

"I don't care if they understand or are happy about it." Cersei said bluntly. "They can take it as a sign of distrust, but until the Westerlands forces arrive, we will keep them at arms-length."

Jaime nodded. "The goal cloaks are up to strength, my training with them has proved beneficial I think. Not so much in their battle preparation is in their organization, but they're prepared to defend the walls at a moment's notice. The walls themselves are ready, as is the port area, where I think the first assault will land. Frankly I have no idea why it's taken so long for Stannis to attack as it is. If he had any idea of how badly mauled we were after the Starks attempted coup he would've been here already. That he hasn't has been a godsend to us."

He was about to hand over the conversation over to Pycelle to talk about the defenses more, but the Master of Whispers interrupted, speaking in that soft feminine tone he used. "It has come to my ears that Stannis struck down in the Stormlands, using the fact his brother retreated to the Reach instead of Storm's End and to rally support. I know House Buckler has gone over to his side, and possibly Errol. Certainly their banners were seen with his army as they marched out of Bronzegate. Unfortunately the little bird that passed this on to me has no head for numbers so I cannot help you there. But they were marching further south rather than up the Kingsroad to assault us from that direction. What that means I do not know, I am not a soldier."

Jaime frowned, as both he and his sister tried to visualize a map of the Stormlands. "Any news of actual battles?" Jaime asked after a moment.

"Some, and some more talk about the red witch as well. Most of it is speculation and seconds hand information, but my little bird had a client who apparently liked to talk after he got his money's worth." he smirked slyly. "The man talked about having seen the red witch burned Brienne of Tarth. Not at the stake but with some kind of conjured fire. She summoned it up when the Maid of Tarth refused to bend the knee to Stannis."

Jaime winced remembering all too easily the former mad king's fascination with fire and more importantly killing people with it. "I wouldn't think Stannis would have any truck with such as that, but I guess I was wrong about his character. Ambition trumps all."

"Regardless," he went on shaking his head from bad memories. "We will need to be ready for a far larger force in that case. Dragonstone alone would not have enough men to take the city now that we've refilled the Gold Cloak ranks, and brought more troops in ourselves. That'd be true even if Stannis could bring one or two of the other Narrow Sea houses under his control."

Pyrcelle now spoke up. "We've already built three trebuchets, all of them situated near the port area." Though he wouldn't mention aloud, those three had been built from a design Tyrion had shown him once. They were massive with a range far beyond anything a siege army could build in less than a few months, and no ship would ever be able to match its range. "The alchemists have also built up a reserve of wildfire despite much of their hoarded stores having been sent up to the Wall. We are in the process of moving some of it to positions near the walls at strategic points. Of course we need to be very careful doing so, but it will certainly be a surprise for any attackers."

The Grand-maester was actually surprised and a little worried about how quickly the alchemists had been able to make good their losses and then some. Even as little as a year ago it would take a master alchemist weeks to create a single gallon of the stuff, but now it took mere days. There was talk of some of the steps going much more efficiently and thus quickly than normal, but no one had come up with an explanation just yet.

Cersei nodded. "How goes the ongoing negotiations with the Faith?"

"They are finally behind us now, and their men throughout the city have begun to pass on rumors of the red witch and Stannis being no friend to the smallfolk, as we asked." Pyrcelle scowled, not liking how much that had cost them, which Cersei wholeheartedly agreed with.

The High Septon's aid had been bought by Cersei promising to pay off the debt the Crown had accrued to the Faith in her name as a Lannister. A debt she hadn't even known was there! The thought of that almost made her glare at the Littlefinger again, but she refrained. For now the weasel was still useful, easily the best of them with numbers and keeping an ear to the ground within the city, much like Varys was outside it.

"Unfortunately, both the Faith and our own rumormongers are having difficulty." Petyr said, speaking up now and exchanging a glance with Varys. "There are rumors going around the city that have nothing to do with Stannis' propaganda."

"How is his propaganda being seen by the smallfolk, and what rumors are you speaking of?" Cersei said cocking her head to one side. This was the first she had heard about any new rumors since judging by the way he said it Petyr meant rumors beyond what had previously known about from after the battle against Starks.

"Strangely enough despite their hatred for your family the accusations from Stannis have not been believed." Petyr said, not flinching as all three of the Lannister's present glared at him, even Joffrey now paying attention to his words.

And he was astonished about that, since those accusations were in fact the truth. "The smallfolk remember Robert and his growing approval for Tommen as well as the Princess and her friendship with the Starks and see that as reason to disbelieve it." At least in their case, he thought to himself. However he was not going to be the one to tell Cersei that protection had not spread to Joffrey, the only one still present in the city and the one wearing the crown.

In point of fact he doubted that the smallfolk would ever be fully on the side of the royal family ever again after this. The whole city was… not in open rebellion, none of the smallfolk had the spine for that, but a sullen acceptance of their rule rather than an enthusiastic one. There was nothing to be done however, and so long as the smallfolk actively didn't try to open the gates for their enemies or riot that was enough.

While his mother was very happy about this bit of news, Joffrey scowled angrily. Even now you still take the attention that should rightfully be mine from me Tommen! I should have killed you sooner!

Petyr went on. "And as for the rumors, there are rumors of prisoners taken in the battle against House Stark being tortured. It's been noted by many that there are far fewer of those prisoners then there once were, and one of the guards of the prison has spread rumors that they were transferred here to the Red Keep to be tortured."

Cersei frowned. She had known about Joffrey's attempt to break Sansa's spirit right after her father had escaped and while she would not have approved of it if asked her opinion, she understood the why of it. This however was something new.

Before Cersei could respond however Joffrey spoke up. "I know of that." he said startling his mother. Looking at her he shrugged. "Several of the men who took the Tower decided to take out their displeasure at how badly that battle turned out on a few of the prisoners. I tried to stop it." He said, his face set in a mournful look. "Torturing those people served no purpose, if they were rabble-rousers trying to get the other prisoners to act out I could've seen the point but as it was…" he shrugged.

Cersei frowned but took his words at face value as always. "I trust you had been discipline them?" As busy as she was with the small counsel and everything she had to deal with, Cersei hadn't spent any time at all with the Lannister armsmen, and knew only a bare handful outside the new men added to the Kingsguard.

But Jaime was looking a little askance at his son. He didn't honestly know how to take what Joffrey had said. Something told him it wasn't the full truth but what the full truth was, he didn't know. Jaime was slowly coming to understand that he didn't understand his son all that well.

Next to Jaime Petyr too looked at the young king. Joffrey's quickly becoming an issue. While Petyr could bend Joffrey's ear easily enough, and had continued to befriend him, that didn't blind Petyr to the fact that the boy was a psychopath. He enjoyed hurting people, and had gathered several other men of similar disposition to him. Luckily his agents had kept that from becoming common knowledge among the smallfolk. Thanks to the gossipers among the prison guards the fact those prisoners were disappearing was well known, but it hadn't happened been connected to Joffrey just yet. He didn't want to find out what would happen if the smallfolk realized they had a monster as bad as Aerys on the throne again.

"Of that may be sure mother." Joffrey said nodding his head. "However, now that our reinforcements have arrived and the Gold Cloaks have been brought up to strength, could we not march to take the field against Renly at least?"

Jaime scoffed at the very idea. "The gold cloaks aren't an offensive army. I wouldn't trust them beyond the city's walls with hunting bandits, let alone fighting a battle. No, they'll be of use on the wall, but that's all. We'll have to leave offensive operations to your grandfather."

"Agreed." Cersei said before changing the subject. "Varys, do you have anything else to report?"

"There is a representative of the Iron Bank here to speak to you, your Majesty, he is in the foyer even now. I am waiting for some agents of mine to run down some of the sailors from the ship that Ranma took to Pentos, it has apparently made port in Duskendale. I think we need to know how that mission turned out."

"It would certainly make our propaganda more effective if we could instill some truth in it…" Petyr murmured.

The others, in particular Jaime and Pyrcelle, winced at the very idea of the Targaryens returning to Westeros, especially if Ranma Stark had brought them back. That would be very bad indeed, but thankfully they hadn't heard any rumors of that just yet.

"Very well, show in the Iron Bank representative. Perhaps we can make some kind of deal with them about a payment plan in return for more liquid capital now." Cersei growled finally giving in to her desire to rub at her eyes for a moment before forcibly shaking herself.

The Iron Bank representative was a tall, spare man with a bald head obviously shaved that way rather than from age, and a calm deliberate manner even when simply walking into the throne room. He was dressed in simple yet well-made clothing, and a heavy Iron and gold torque hung from his neck down his chest.

"Your Majesty, your grace, thank you for seeing me on such short notice," The man said, his voice calm, almost soothing yet stern sounding at the same time. "I am a representative of the Iron Bank, and I have come to speak to of the outstanding loans that the Iron Throne has accrued from us. To wit, almost one and a quarter million gold dragons. The former Hand had worked out an excellent system for the repayment of that loan, and we were pleased with his progress."

That was putting it mildly. That debt that the Iron Throne had accrued from the Iron Bank had been up to almost three million golden dragons but in his time in the capital Lord Stark had done wonders to work with their bankers to funnel small bits of monies their way to start paying it off, and had pointed out several places where their own paperwork had been falsified, the monies given supposedly to the crown not even showing up in the Iron Throne's books, and thus could not lawfully be part of the debt.

The man didn't let his gaze slide to Petyr, who some in the Iron Bank felt was the orchestrator of that. The only reason the man had not already been assassinated, messing with bank paperwork at either end was a killing offense no hyperbole there, was the fact they couldn't actually pin it on him. They weren't about to move on Petyr without that proof since doing so if he was not the culprit might make the real one disappear. "With Lord Stark gone, the setup he had put in place to repay us has disappeared, so we wish to come to an understanding with you about a payment plan."

Joffrey growled angrily standing up as if to threaten the man physically though he didn't have the height or body for that to come off well. He seems more petulant than angry really. "Who are you to demand anything of the Iron Throne?! Some little piddling foreign bank, come here to demand terms of us!? We're at war in case you haven't noticed, this is no time for penny-pinching! Come back to us when we have crushed these usurpers that are causing so much chaos in our realm, and you might find us in a better humor!"

"Wars take time, as well as money. If we do not have any kind of agreement with you about a payment plan, we can no longer forward you more money to pay for your ongoing expenses." The man said calmly, staring first at Joffrey than Cersei. "We are a business, our own bottom lines come first after all."

The young king was about to explode again but Cersei held up a hand. "Calmly my son, while you are right that this is a time of war, we do need liquid capital." She looked with scant favor at the man. "At present, I will only promise to pay a third of that gold over time. Most of that debt was accrued by the previous king, and as such it is to House Baratheon the majority of the debt should be addressed. As Storms End and the rest of House Baratheon have risen in treason against the house's real heir, we cannot be held accountable for repayment of the debt the former lord accumulated at this time. Nor I will not agree to any long-term payment plans, as doing so would tie up the money coming in from our own resources. That is the best you are going to get."

The man's eyes narrowed, showing how unhappy he was with that decision. "That is not enough. We have a reputation to uphold as well as our bottom line to see to. We will require that money to be paid in full or steps may be taken to reclaim payment via... other methods."

"Was that a threat!" Joffrey asked incredulously. "I should have your head cut chopped off for that!"

To one side Ser Blount moved forward one hand on his hilt as if willing to do just that right there and then, but he was blocked from a nod by Cersei moving Ser Swann in his way. The two men glared at one another, but it was Blount who backed down.

Cersei turned back to the Iron Bank representative, who had not given his name. That was deliberate she knew, he was simply a voice for the bank, not one of their movers or shakers. "A third." she said calmly. "To be paid over the next two years from the gold reserves of the Rock, after I get in touch with my uncle. That is the best you are going to get."

The man shrugged. "I will take your words to my superiors but remember your highness", he went on, looking between the now nearly frothing mad Joffrey and the calm as ice queen. "The Iron Bank always gets its due." With that he walked out, leaving Cersei with one more problem and a smiling Varys who was wondering if he could somehow turn this to his own advantage and that of his patron.

OOOOOOO

Several days later, the news of the battle of the ford of the Kneeling Man reached King's Landing, and none of the small council were smiling now. "I hadn't thought that much of the Riverlands would declare against us." Cersei mused thoughtfully, though her eyes were flashing with rage. She would rage later when she was alone or with just Jaime, right now she needed to keep control. Eddard Stark had shown her how controlled rage was much better than the shouting and screaming kind, if not nearly as emotionally satisfying.

While her father might have won the battle, and now controlled fully a third of the Riverlands, his march north had been halted, and that meant that it was up to the Freys to stop Ranma and the North. That was an impossibility, she was certain of it even if Old Walder had a spine equal to his ambition. This meant that soon they would have a third enemy to contend with.

After a moment spent grinding her teeth to keep from roaring out her rage and anger at this newest affront to her and her son's positions, Cersei turned to her brother. "How long before the North is in play?"

"Four, maybe three months." Jaime guessed. "Longer, possibly. Remember the North is nearly as large as the Vale, the Riverlands, and the Crownlands combined but with nowhere near the numbers. It'll take the Starks time to gather a strong enough force to send South, plus they've already sent men up to the wall, so I doubt it could be that large a force." Despite those words is normal arrogant smirk was in abeyance. If Ranma was as good at leading man as he was at fighting himself, that army would be very dangerous.

Joffrey slammed his hand down on the table, ignoring the pain the pain this caused in his hand to yell. "The North is a problem for later! The Riverlands are a problem for now! It's obvious that old bastard in Riverrun has fully followed his son's treason! As such his son should pay for it. We should kill him now, then sent his head to his father!"

"That would serve no purpose." said Varys said coolly. "Worse, such a move would be certain to change the opinion of at least a few of the Houses who have joined forces with your grandfather, or have remained neutral."

"But the only good thing for a hostage is if they believe we will kill him if they act up, this is obviously them acting up."

"No I'm afraid it isn't." Pyrcelle said shaking his head. "Hoster's idea of simply informing his lords to act as their own conscience dictates has cleared him of wrongdoing in this case." He tapped the message thoughtfully, thinking hard. Ever since Tommen's death he had been taking his position much more seriously, and was much more likely to speak up if he had something to share. "Besides, the Houses facing Lord Tywin on the Green Fork aren't taking the field against us. They're simply taking the field against allowing anyone to march across their land. That kind of neutrality we can deal with. Killing Edmure would no doubt turn them against us. No, it's best to hold onto him."

"Grandmaster Pycelle's right I'm afraid my son." Cersei said, sounding actually regretful about that. "I would like nothing better than to show our anger at this betrayal, but it is best that we keep Edmure alive for now. It shows mercy on our part and also keeps Riverrun and the Tully forces from acting, no small thing."

Angered at being blocked from slating his inner sadist on what he saw as a worthy target Joffrey stood up abruptly and marched out of the room. Seeing this Cersei sighed faintly, her own initial rush of anger having disappeared as she tried to think of what this could mean in the long term before deciding she couldn't figure that out, and turned to other matters.

Jaime frowned looked after his erstwhile son, then motioned one of the men he had recruited in the Kingsguard, Ser Torrey Buckwell, third son of that Crownlands noble house. He was a decent swordsman and a man who took his oaths seriously, so had been perfect for the Kingsguard, though his skills weren't quite up to Balon Swann's level. Jaime whispered into the man's ear and Torrey nodded, then moved briskly after the two men assigned to guard Joffrey, both of whom had followed the king out of the room.

His sister hadn't noticed this little bit of interplay, having turned to Varys. "Besides the news of the Riverlands, which we cannot affect or change from this far removed, do you have anything else to report Varys?"

"I do indeed Your Highness." Varys said smiling faintly. "News has reached me from my little birds in Duskendale. The ship that Ranma Stark took to Pentos made port there, and its sailors are being very free with the news of what occurred. Apparently he brought back Daenerys Targaryen. She came willingly, the alternative apparently being sold by her brother, as we had suspected, to the Dothraki. She was not apparently a willing participant in that."

Cersei scoffed, motioning to get on with it. As if any woman would wish to be sold off like that. Normal marriages between Noble Houses were one thing, but at least most lords were civilized. She hated to think what the Dothraki were like, thinking them the equal of the Late, unlamented Gregor Clegane in the manner they treated women.

Obeying her command, Varys had to stop himself from smiling at the rock he was about to drop. Varys was still trying to wrap his own mind around the return of the dragons, but it was certain that they would help in the long run to muddy the waters here even more. He had already sent notes to a few of his factors in the free cities to search out fossilized eggs if they could find them. After all, if one Targaryen could awaken them, certainly another could. "But that is not all. "

"But here is the most, astonishing part, something I would not have believed except every sailor my little birds plied with their various wiles have said the same thing. The Targaryen girl apparently brought along two dragons eggs, which hatched within moments of her arrival abroad the ship. Two dragons, living, breathing dragons, are apparently hers to command. The sailors were all sharing tales of how she began to train them, commanding them with gestures and words as if they were merely dogs!"

He watched, allowing his own face to show shock at what he was saying while inside he laughed aloud at the look of fear on the face of everyone around the council table. "Needless to say." Varys continued. "I think we need to consider what this means long-term."

OOOOOOO

Jaime excused himself quickly from the meeting after that. His sister had shown a remarkable amount of self-control when the bad news of their father's setback was shared, but this latest information had broken that control. Even as he walked down the corridor his ears were still ringing from her screeching, wild and above all impotent, fury. Cersei was magnificent most of the time, but when she lost it fully, even Jaime didn't want to be around her.

Of course there's not much any of us can do about this particular problem. Jaime thought, his lips twisted in something between a snarl and his normal smirk at the thought. I'm good with a sword, but I can't fly, so my ability to deal with dragons is somewhat limited.

Beneath that flippant thought however was a lot of fear. He could all too easily remember the mad king, and the thoughts of what another mad Targaryen could do with a real dragon terrified him, though he would never let that show. I bet we could figure out a way for scorpions to range on them if we tried, need to talk to Pycelle about that later, after my sweet sister works off her temper. She's been keeping it bottled up lately, all the crap we've had to deal with has forced her to, so that might take a while.

He looked up, broke out of his thoughts when a familiar voice called his name from further down the hallway he was walking down. "Ser Jaime?"

Coming down the hallway toward him was Tyrek Lannister. He had initially been one of the king's squires, though had been nearly forgotten since he didn't actually enjoy hunting, but Lancel had. Tyrek had missed the battle against the Starks because he had been down with one of the nastiest stomach maladies Jaime had ever seen. Even now he looked pale and wan, though that might have been his still having not gotten over Lancel's death. The two young men hadn't been close, but Lancel was possibly the first family member Tyrek had lost. Jaime was grimly certain however he wouldn't be the last. Since then Tyrek had been used as a general gofer for the queen and the Kingsguard, which was probably what he was doing now.

Jaime cocked an eyebrow at Tyrek and he went on. "Milord, Ser Torrey asked me to fetch you, he says to come to the Traitor's Walk."

Jaime's eyes narrowed and he nodded, walking briskly off. He found Torrey there, looking a little bemused. "Torrey, what happened, where's the boy-king?"

"He came here right after leaving the king's council but I think you were wrong about his temper getting the better of him, at least in severity. He shouted at Edmure Tully for a bit, had Blount and the others smack him every time he tried to open his mouth. The king said stuff about how his grandfather was going to wipe Edmure's father and the Tully's holdings out, how he was a traitor and all that. Then he ordered him to be moved from the top floor down to the bottom floor, but that's all." Torrey smiled now, looking very relieved he wouldn't have to try to stand up to the king, since given his oaths he would have had to obey Joffrey's orders over his commanders. "That's all, then he, Blount and the others gathered some hounds and armsmen then went out on a hunt."

At the remarkably blasé account Jaime breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe the boy really wasn't involved in the prisoners' deaths then. If just smacking Edmure around like that was enough for Joffrey to get over his anger, maybe I was jumping at shadows.

OOOOOOO

He wasn't, but after his mother's words Joffrey knew he couldn't take his full displeasure out on Edmure. So Joffrey had gone hunting, letting his anger out on a fox his dogs ran to ground. Later that night however, he, Boros Blount and Alfred Edgerton, a knight from a Crownlands House of similar disposition, slipped into the prison. Heading down to the lowest level, they found Edmure asleep.

Before Edmure could rouse from the light of their torches, he found his head being covered by a burlap sack. Edmure woke up with a gasp, trying to jerk away from the hands he felt on him, but being chained to the wall limited his ability to fight back, and months of being in prison, even in the better quarters reserved for lords, had sapped his strength. "Damn you, you bastards! If I could see I AHH!"

The four hands on him pushed Edmure flat on his back and then Edmure felt the chains around his legs pulled taut. The chains on his hands were also pulled taut and Edmure found himself spread out like that. A blow landed on his back, causing him to grunt in pain. Another blow slammed into his forehead, causing him to nearly black out. Moments later, he wished he had, as the lashes began to fall, and he screamed.

Near the entrance to the prison cell Joffrey smiled. Mother said I shouldn't kill you, and all the others agreed with it, so I suppose that's correct, but that doesn't mean I can't hurt you for your fathers treason. For now merely a whipping with a cat o' nine tails, be grateful it's only lashes rather than skinning. But if my grandfather keeps running into more problems, well, a prisoner doesn't need the fingers on his sword hand does he? That thought made Joffrey smile even wider, while all around them, the other prisoners woke up to the sounds of torture, and shivered where they lay.

OOOOOOO

Despite being much closer to King's Landing than Highgarden, Bitterbridge was still far away from the Riverlands, where war had already begun. For all that however, there was still martial glory to be had. Just ask Loras, who had just unseated his third opponent of the day. After pushing up his faceplate, Loras shook out his shield arm wincing theatrically. "A good try," he said jovially looking down at his opponent across the tilt where the man was groaning as he got to his feet. "If you'd struck a little more center of mass you might've beaten me there my friend!"

The other young man, Emmon Cuy, a nephew of House Cuy's current lord, laughed wheezily and waved him off. With that Loras turned his horse around to head back the way he came, dismounting with ease. He stood there for a time watching the next few matches, including his lover, Renly's. Renly seemed off his form slightly today, putting more strength into his lance thrusts than he should, but he still won his match easily enough.

When Renly joined him at the end of the tilt, Loras looked up at him, one eyebrow raised sardonically. "You seem a little out of sorts my friend, what's wrong?"

"You know damn well what's wrong." Renly said in a low tone, not bothering to dismount. Instead he earthed his lance next to him then pulled off his helmet before looking down at Loras. "Don't tell me you haven't heard the rumors?"

"I have, but you can't let them get to you, especially when it might cost you your next match." Loras replied earnestly.

"Why do you think I entered this tournament in the first place?" Renly replied growling a little. "I had hoped that coming to Bitterbridge plus taking part in this tourney would allow me to fight the rumors, but it hasn't worked."

Loras grimaced, but nodded. News had reached them from House Fell that House Buckler and a few others had declared for Stannis. There was also news of a battle against House Tarth that had completely smashed the force that House had been willing to send to war for Renly. That wasn't good, to say the least.

House Buckler had yet to take offensive action against House Fell, but Fell was no longer willing to send more than a token of its strength to war, and the other Stormlands lords were worried as well. He had received ravens from all the lords who had already gathered at Fawnton, and he had bit the arrowhead and sent orders back to them to send two thousand infantry to bolster Felwood, but ordered the others to remain where they were, preparing to march to the Rose Road to meet the army gathering here at Bitterbridge for the march up to King's Landing.

None of them had been happy about it, yet his promise to cede Bronzegate to the house that performed best in the battles to come had been a large enough carrot. But his power over them was badly eroded by this episode and certain attacks on his personal reputation.

The Queen's version of what had happened in King's Landing had spread like rumors often do, helped along by her ravens. Cersei's version painted the Starks as power-hungry in their attempt to take the throne from the queen, who was holding it as regent for young Joffrey, when their chosen heir, Tommen had died, killed by a third-party. It was hinted that they were doing so as part of a long term scheme cooked up with Targaryen supporters.

That of course didn't matter to Renly, but what that bitch of a lioness's version said about Renly himself did. It painted him as fleeing with his tail between his legs the moment combat was in the offing. It stated she had evidence that Renly had been in on it with the Starks, but the moment it seemed as if it would come to an actual battle in the streets of King's Landing he ran like a whipped cur.

It called into question his basic courage, and that was something no noblemen could stand. Especially not in the Reach, where honor and chivalry and the knightly virtues were seen as close to sacred as oaths sworn in the presence of the Seven. Not for nothing was the Reach known as the home of chivalry.

His friends here knew it wasn't true, and his close allies here and in the Stormlands were willing to ignore it, but those he hadn't befriended and the regular knights were beginning to mutter about his simply waiting here for his full army to gather rather than use the forces already at hand. Some of them obviously felt it might be a sign of his cowardice, but what to do about that was something Renly couldn't figure out.

The two young men's conversation was interrupted as Loras heard his name called for the next bout. Renly watched as his friend won the tilt easily, smashing a knight from House Merrywheather out of his saddle with the first pass. Soon after that it was Renly's turn. He too won his match though it took him three passes to defeat his opponent, Ser Horas Redwyne.

The other young man stomped angrily off, muttering under his breath "Hmmpf, even a coward can have some skill in the joust I suppose. It isn't as if his life was on the line after all." That made Renly stiffen, and he gritted his teeth angrily while he wheeled his horse back to the starting point.

So it continued throughout the day, but Horas' words proved to be shared by many. He could see the glances, could see the sneers in all those but his closest friends and allies. It was spreading like a plague through his army.

Endure it, he thought to himself. Endure it while the Reach builds you the largest army in Westeros. With that, I can smash anyone else who tries to stand in my way to the Iron Throne. At that point this will have been forgotten, and all they will remember it is the fact that I won!

He smiled as Loras bowed to him, the winner of the tourney. Renly had reached the semi-finals and then lost to Ser Robar Royce. The second son of that Noble House of the Vale, Robar had travelled to Bitterbridge to pledge his sword to Renly's cause and hopefully win some glory for himself. But Loras had beaten the man in the finals.

"In honor of your victory Ser Loras," Renly intoned. "I name you as captain of my Rainbow Guard! May you serve me with just as much courage and dedication as you have shown here today!"

Loras bowed then took his place at Renly's side while Renly called for all the other young men who had distinguished themselves in the tourney one after another, putting together the rest of his Rainbow Guard. Renly's version of the Kingsguard, they would be his elite force to place against that force, and possibly the wolfsworn he had heard Ranma and others of the Northerners speak of before the events of King's Landing. Each man in it was also assigned a color, to match the rainbow motif, plus connect them directly to the Faith, which held the rainbow as a sacred sign. This was an obvious attempt to gain favor among the pious, but Renly knew it would work anyway, among the smallfolk at least.

That evening, after a drunken feast was held in Loras' honor the two men were walking the grounds of Bitterbridge, discussing ideas on what to do to combat the rumors, when a messenger found them from Lord Caswell. "Your grace, milord" The young man said, gasping a little. Milord Caswell asks you to join him in his study, there is a messenger here with news from the Gold Road."

Renly's eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and he nodded, thanking the man politely. The two of them hurried off, and found their friends as well as Mace and several lords already waiting for them, all that were in Bitterbridge and sober after the party, though only just in a few cases. Randyll was there as well. The only one fully sober, he was pacing back and forth his face a storm cloud.

"What has happened?" Renly asked as he entered, looking at his future father-in-law.

Mace might once have cut a martial figure, with wide shoulders and strong arms in his youth, be he had since turned to fat. His curly brown hair and triangle shaped beard held flecks of gray, showing the man was prematurely aging, helped no doubt by the ale he consumed at every opportunity he could away from his nattering mother. Of late he had soundly rejected his mother's advice, remaining close to Renly where she had said they should distance themselves, and look for other methods of securing the position. In Mace's thinking there was nothing ventured, nothing gained. Certainly backing Renly no longer seemed the certain course, but what did that matter? The reward at the end would still be worth it.

He looked at the messenger, a sharp eyed old man with a scar going down one side of his face and threw his eye on that side. Nonetheless he was wearing decent leather armor, and had a very good bow strapped to his back. "Tell them what you told us."

"Sir, I serve some Lord Shermer as a thief taker. I'm also supposed to look out for any unusual movements along the Gold Road and report. Well sir, there's of force of Westerlands men coming down the Gold Road hell for leather heading straight towards King's Landing as fast as they can go."

"Do you have any idea of the numbers?" Randyll asked quickly. It was obvious he had been merely waiting for Renly to arrive before questioning the messenger as closely as he could.

"Around 6000 or so my Lord." he said shrugging his shoulders. "There is a place along the Gold Road ah like, it's my personal favorite place to hide when I know a thief is tryin' ta get away that way." He smirked a little. "They never suspect it, since the tree looks darn near unclimbable, and the bottom's covered with poison vine. Anyway," he went on more seriously "I'm good at counting, and I'd say at least 6000."

"Their disposition?" Randyll barked.

At the man's blank look Randyll scowled but Renly spoke up before he could. "What my lord Tarly means is could you tell us what kind of men made up this force?"

That I can't rightly say." The man said with a shrug. "I only saw about a score o' men with bows, and the whole force were on horseback. But most of them didn't look none like knights or really trained cavalry. One or two of them looked about as comfortable in a saddle as a sack a wheat'd. But they had a lot of horses, two for every man."

"Most likely infantry placed in the saddle then," Randyll mused. "It's an old but good trick that lets you move your infantry as fast as a cavalry unit. Could you estimate how many men, as you put it looked like sacks of wheat in the saddle?"

The man shook his head. "Nay, milord, that I couldn't, not real like. I couldn't make out their expressions or anything like that for the most parts anyway, but I would say…" he paused thoughtfully. "I would say maybe a 1000 of 'em was real cavalry. Their armor was better ya see, and a few had heavier lookin' plate. Plus they all had lances."

Renly frowned tapping his thigh thoughtfully. 6000 more men on the walls of King's Landing would be a problem, but not an insurmountable one. Plus 6000 more mouths to feed would simply hasten the fall of the city anyway, since Renly knew that the more they felt the sting of starvations, the more the smallfolk would make problems for the royals and their backers.

He was about to say that aloud when Loras leaned in. "This is your chance!" Loras whispered.

Renly turned to him and Loras went on. "We ride out here with the army already gathered here to block that force from getting to King's Landing. With you at our ahead and if we fight well that can banish the coward label you've been laboring under." Loras too had been lambasted in the Queen's version of events in King's Landing, but few in the Reach truly believed that of the Knight of Roses.

Still, that didn't mean that his advice was wrong, and Renly nodded. We've already gathered a force of 18,000 cavalry and 14,000 mixed infantry here. But I'll need to command the force we send on my own, not with Randyll or anyone else there to take away from the glory. It needs to be seen as my victory and mine alone. "I think," Renly said instead. "That we have an opportunity here."

OOOOOOO

Lord Rupert Serret was a wily old man of Tywin's generation who while on the short side was nearly as broad across the shoulders and was known to use a massive bladed axe as his personal weapon. He wasn't as well-versed in warfare as Tywin, but was no slouch either having fought in the Ninepenny King's war. And unlike most noblemen, he was also more of an infantry commander, since he had led a force of infantry in that war and knew well their strengths and weaknesses. He also knew the value of good intelligence, and had a large force of scouts probing ahead and to the sides of his force at all times while he marched his forces as quickly as possible down the Gold Road.

They were nearly to the first crossing of Blackwater Rush when his scouts reported siting the massive army of the Reach closing in on them from the front right flank. "And you say the army you spotted is entirely made up of cavalry? And not like our own, infantry simply thrust into the saddle?"

"Positive my Lord." one of the scouts said a young man missing an ear. But there was nothing wrong with his eyes or his mind. "All of them heavy horse, with a smattering of light out in front as scouts, a bare dozen I think spread out all along their front. They're not movin' quick, their horses will be well rested by the time they catch up with us."

"How many days until we reached the bridge across the Blackwater?" Rupert asked another scout, an older man who doubled as his scout commander.

"I'd say about two days or so my Lord, but they'll find us by tomorrow."

"I don't think we can stop them from catching us." Lord Serret mused scratching at the stubble on his face for moment. "No, we'll have to give them something else to chase instead."

OOOOOOO

According to the scouts estimates Renly and his men were barely an hour away now from catching sight of the Westerlands force. Renly was feeling all the usual feelings of a young man before his first battle: fear, nervousness, a desire to get it over with and apprehension that he wouldn't do as well as he hoped.

He mastered that all however with a confident air as he rode at the center of his cavalry, having taken ten thousand of the heavy cavalry already gathered at Bitterbridge with him. With that many knights they would be able to smash the Westerlands force even if they tried to stop and fort up somewhere, which would be impossible on the Gold Road in any event. So long as they caught them before the Blackwater crossing the Lannisters would simply be hammered under.

The idea that an infantry unit could stand up against cavalry never even entered his mind, and though Renly knew enemy would have spotted them coming and made their own plans, he knew any plans would fail when matched against his heavier force.

The front of the Army began to ride up a small grassy knoll which would allow them to look down onto the gold road to see their enemies on the march. Suddenly the clamor of battle arose and bugles sounded the alarm from the front of the column.

"What's happening?!" Renly barked, standing up in his stirrups to get a better view. "My spyglass!" When the object was handed to him by his banner carrier he focused on the front of his army. There he saw hundreds of light cavalry dueling with his own, with his heavy cavalry already moving in to assist.

"It's a holding tactic." He said barking it out. "Split the army into three, the ones already engaged will hold that cavalry there, the rest of us will split in two and go around them to attack the main force." That was easier to do than say however. Everyone in the army tried to rush forward at once, eager to get in on the kill of this small force. Then more cavalry came up, snarling the entirety of his frontline.

"Stranger damn it!" Renly growled, pulling his face guard down and readying his lance. "We'll have to push them out of the way then. Rainbow Guard with me!"

With Loras at his side Renly barreled forward, the rest of his cavalry making way for them automatically then forming up behind him. The Rainbow Guard hit the ensnarled light and heavy cavalry like a hammer, bowling over some of the light cavalry, actually knocking their lighter horses to the ground, while their lances, skewered horse and rider indiscriminately.

Renly himself skewered one man, and nearly froze as he saw the blood flowing from the wound before his training took over and he let go of his lance. Grabbing out his broadsword Renly whirled around, barely blocking a blow from east from an enemy's lighter sword, before his return stroke smashed the man out of his saddle. He killed one more man, taking a blow to his shield in turned which set his arm to ringing when suddenly there was a noise of bugles in the air.

Another force, this time of a hundred a hundred heavy cavalry slammed into the flank of his army, leading hundreds of unsaddled horses into his formation, disorganizing a his army further. They were soon enveloped however by the rest of his cavalry, having gone too deep into his formation to get away.

The light cavalry on the other hand hadn't tried to penetrate his force so much as shave a bit of the front and were now breaking off. "After them!" Renly shouted, forgetting for a moment that there was anything else but the retreating light cavalry in this battle. Disorganized and slightly rattled by the wild horses still running amok in their own formation, none of the other commanders with him, all young men like himself eager to prove themselves, realized it either.

By the time Renly regained his senses, all of his army had started to chase off after the light cavalry. They eventually rode them to ground, but it took the rest of the day to that then reform the army.

Looking up at the sky from cleaning his sword Renly saw that it was nearly night, and shook his head angrily. "They bought themselves another day!" he said looking around at his Rainbow Guard and the other commanders. "One day more, but that won't save them in the end. We'll run them to ground first thing tomorrow morning!"

That won him a cheer from all the men around him.

It didn't quite work out that way however. The infantry kept marching on through the night, putting more distance between them and the larger Reach force. The Reach cavalry still caught up to them, but just as the last of the infantry crossed the bridge over the Blackwater.

Once the last infantrymen were across, torches were thrown down along the bridge, along with dozens of ale-skins and even several gathered bushels of hay from the nearby farmland. The bridge was huge, old and its base was made of stone rather than wood, but the wood that made on it was dry, and the fire caught easily.

With that act Lord Serret was free to continue down to King's Landing now unmolested. He had lost his entire cavalry force, having sent them to harry the larger Reach force and then break away. Those had been their orders anyway, though Rupert knew when giving them that it wouldn't work out that way, indeed he had counted on it. Thankfully for the rest of his men he was right. Those two thousand men had died, but the four thousand and two hundred infantry with him were saved.

Technically it was a win, Renly thought as he stared across the bridge at the retreating infantry lines, what could be seen through smoke of the fire on the bridge anyway. Below in the river hundreds of men had formed a chain and were using their helmets to throw water up onto the fire. Even if they put it out however, Renly wasn't about to trust the integrity of the bridge after that conflagration.

"I had really hoped we could ride the entire force to ground. Those light cavalry were but a decoy apparently."

His friends all around him nodded but Loras shrugged. "So we'll follow them across when the fires put out. They can't honestly expect this to stop our pursuit can they? And once we catch up we'll ride over them just as easily as we did their light cavalry."

"You assume the bridge will be able to hold our weight." Renly said pessimistically. "I remember this bridge; the causeway was destroyed a few years ago by a lightning strike and the crown billed for its repair since it is part of the royal road network. I don't think that the fire will have done any less damage. No, we won a battle, now it's time for us to win the war."

Loras and the rest of the Rainbow Guard looked at him and Renly smiled. "Send a message to Bitterbridge and Fawnton. Tell them to march to meet us at the Kingsroad. We'll march from here along Blackwater Rush to meet them. We'll besiege King's Landing."

At some of the quizzical expressions he laughed. "We don't have enough men to take it until the second echelon from the Reach arrives from Highgarden, but we do have enough men to besiege it which might be just as good. I bet my cold fish of a brother is already blockading the port, we can use that to our advantage. We'll block delivery even of the foodstuffs from the Crownlands while we wait for the main force, then attack the city once we see it's weak, and force my brother to come to the bargaining table at the same time. Even if the Lannister force already in the Riverlands turns down to us, that small a force won't matter in the open field against our knights, and we will win the war within a year!"

That caused all the men around him to cheer, and soon enough the army was on the move once more, while a trio of ravens winged their way toward their target castles.

OOOOOOO

About a week into the march from castle Cerwyn the army had made camp for the night. After spending two hours practicing with Arya and the other wolfsworn, Ranma entered his tent, shaking his head slightly. While their meditation and ki manipulation exercises were proceeding apace, none of them would ever be as fast as Jon or Ranma. In fact even Ranma wasn't as fast in this life as he had been in his fast life.

Oh, he still was able to use a move he could call the Amiguriken in his head, but sustaining it? No, that took far too much ki, much like most of the actual ki attacks Ranma had learned. He could armor his body and speed it up, but not both for very long. And if he tried to use the Amiguriken without armoring his hands and arms against it, the very air began to feel as if he was hitting concrete, and his skin began to blister like he had thrust his hands into a fire.

Still, Ranma persisted training them, and now Daenerys and Merry at least a little, who at Ranma's insistence had joined them. Though she showed no aptitude for the physical side of things, Myrcella had taken to the meditation like a duck to water unlike Daenerys, who had major troubles with that aspect. Seeking the void just did not work for Daenerys at all, forcing Ranma to change the meditation method he was teaching her.

But Ranma was determined to get her up to snuff eventually, if only because building up ki would directly impact how long Daenerys could expect to live. Ranma in no way wanted to outlive his wife or friends, so was determined they would all learn as much as possible about using and building up their ki.

He reached down, touching a small bundle that Sansa had given Dacey to pass on to him. She had forgotten it among her own gear for a time, but finally remembered it that evening. He opened it looking inside and pulling out the contents, a banner that Sansa had made for them to signify his union with Daenerys. Once laid out on the ground of his tent he could see the design on it, and smiled. Attached to the edge of it was a small note, which he pulled off and read.

Daenerys came into his tent several moments later in search of Ranma to tell him the evening meal was ready. She stopped and stared at the banner, shaking her head. "Is that what Sansa gave Dacey to pass on to you? I am constantly astonished by your sister's ability with needle and thread, to create that in the time we were in Winterfell, that's amazing."

"Yeah, she's always been good at that, but what she wrote to me was surprising, and reminded me of something I had started to forget." Ranma replied, still staring down thoughtfully at the message in his hand.

"oh, what's that?"

"She wrote to me asking that we show mercy on the queen when we reach King's Landing. I liked that, that my sister shows such confidence in us." Ranma chuckled quietly still not looking up. "But she asks for mercy for Cersei because in the time after Tommen died, the two of them had become close. She writes 'even with all that happened Ranma, I can't forget how kind she was, how she mourned for Tommen. While that does not change any of her actions before or since, I ask you to show mercy for my sake.' It reminded me that not all the Lannisters should be lumped in with Joffrey or even Tywin."

"They're Lannister!" Daenerys growled, sounding very much like her little ones at that moment. "They're all child killing, raping bastards! You agreed with me before that they need to be wiped out, don't tell me that just because the chief traitoress had cozened up to Sansa you're going to let her live?"

Now Ranma looked at Daenerys, his eyes blue ice to her fiery violet ones. "They aren't all like that. Tywin might have ordered the killing, and he certainly doesn't care about the rest, but even Tywin isn't himself a rapist. Nor did I ever say Cersei would not pay for her crimes, though I haven't decided on the type of punishment just yet."

"That doesn't matter, he was still the one who ordered it, and it was his family that profited the most! And if the queen hadn't committed treason neither of us would be here! They must be removed from power when we win, or else somewhere down the line the Lannisters will rise up again in response to our victory, they are that vindictive and hateful."

"True on all accounts, and I am not going back on what I said, the Lannister's will be removed from all positions of authority, their lands sized and redistributed. But I won't allow my hate to govern my actions, I won't paint the entire family with a single brush that's not honorable, or just! After all, there are people out there who will put you and Viserys in the same category because of the actions of your father. Would you paint Merry in the same light as the man who employed the Mountain?"

Daenerys' violet eyes widened in rage at her family being compared to the Lannisters, but the last sentence made her anger drain away from her. She closed her eyes for several moments and when she spoke, it was almost in a whisper. "I've spent my whole life being taught to hate the Starks, the Baratheons and Lannisters all equally, to look down on even the Tyrells for not being there to defend their liege lords at our time of need. Everything was so easy, so straightforward then, my family was in the right, and everyone else was in the wrong, we were the Royal family, whatever my father might have done he was the king. Taking back our throne and punishing them for their betrayal was justice."

"But, but it isn't that simple, it never was, just my perception. First Domeric told me to my face what the old king had done, and worse I read and found out more on my own, forever changing how I viewed my own father, and my family as a whole. Helped admittedly, by seeing Viserys falling into the same madness."

Her lips quirked in wry bitterness at the thought, but she went on regardless, wanting to get this all out now, much like pulling out a bad tooth. "And then I learned more about why your family rebelled, I could no longer blame your family for their actions at that point. And then, then at my lowest point, when all hope seemed lost, I met you. The starks changed from first enemy then to neutral party, then, in you valued allies and now family."

Ranma reached out, touching her check tenderly, smiling now. "And then you met Merry."

Daenerys leaned into his touch slightly, sighing now. "Merry, yes. I was so prepared to hate her, and she looks so Lannister! But there were so many parallels between her current circumstances and mine, and we bonded over murderous brothers and she was good with my little ones and so young and innocent in many ways, I could not look at her and see the ravening, raping monster that all Lannisters were supposed to be." They were even connected by their feelings for Ranma, though she wasn't going to say it.

"But it is so hard to let go of my hate." She said, her voice even softer. "Yet you're right, we can't afford to let mindless hate color our actions. I broke away from Viserys not just because of his plans for me, which wouldn't have worked as he thought in any event, but because knew he would be a disaster of the first order on the throne. I, I cannot fully remove my feelings from my thoughts of the Lannisters, but I will not let them rule me."

Ranma smiled, pulling Daenerys into a hug. "It's ok Dae, if you ever start to go down that road I promise I'll be here to pull you back. So long as ya promise to do the same for me?"

He did not ask that to make Daenerys feel better. No, Ranma knew he had dark places in his soul, and a rage that could burn as cold as the winter winds. He knew he would lose it if he ever came upon a village after an invading army came through. The stories of rapine Eddard had once shared with him about Robert's Rebellion had filled Ranma's heart with fury, and once he loosed it, Ranma knew he would have trouble reining it in.

"I promise, my love." Daenerys said, leaning in. Their first real argument having ended, the two kissed for a time until Cley came with food of the two of them from the evening's fires.

OOOOOOO

Margaery had remained behind in Highgarden when Renly rode out. This was because she and her grandmother had maneuvered Renly to declare that no marriage between the two of them would happen until he sat on the Iron Throne. It had been an incredibly astute move, though Mace had been furious about it. He seemed to think that the moment Renly and Margaery were wed that their future as part of the royal family of Westeros was secure. Margaery had never thought that way, and Olenna, who had at one point let herself be seduced by that thought, was now back in control of her faculties.

She, her grandmother and Willas were now meeting with Garlan, the second eldest of the Tyrell siblings. He was a belted and well respected knight, though not as well known as Loras since Garlan did not seek glory like his younger brother, eschewing the tourney for his own training. Already married, he spent most of his time at Cider Hall with his wife. At this moment they were discussing the latest news to reach them from all sources.

Olenna threw down a raven message from Lord Tarly who had sent it back upon receiving a message from Renly. "So, the idiot 'king' won himself a victory of sorts. It might be enough to combat the rumors about his personal cowardice for now I suppose." she drawled skeptically.

"For my part the news from the other side of the passes are more worrisome." Garlan said shaking his head. He had squired under Lord Randyll when he was younger, and considered himself at least half a march-man because of that. "I would've thought the Prince of Dorne would have been more cautious, but evidently his brother has a bigger influence on him than that." The news that Prince Doran had put Oberyn into prison had not reached the Reach, and the Marcher lords had a long memory. "Still, with half their forces at home the Dornish Marche Lords are well prepared for any invasion from that direction.

"Bah, that's merely saber rattling, nothing more." Olenna said shaking her head. "That army down there will march back and forth, up and down the passes but never come close to actually attacking. They know the Marcher Lords would slaughter their troops if they took the offensive."

"I agree if my friend Oberyn isn't in charge. If he is, all bets are off." Willas said. He smiled, amused as even Margaery looked uncomfortable at his mention of his friendship with Oberyn. Not only were Martell and Tyrell old enemies, but Oberyn had been the one to cripple Willas in a tourney years ago. Their friendship had been surprising, but deep for all of that.

After a moment he went on, his smile fading. "For my part I am more worried about news from Goldengrove and the western border. I think I should take a force out there to track and destroy these mercenaries that are causing so much carnage. House Rowan already sent their lord and most of their forces to Bitterbridge, they lack the manpower to run these reavers to ground by themselves."

Margaery and Olenna both looked shocked at that. Willas shrugged. "Who else? Besides, I may be the oldest but I am also the least tried, according to popular rumor, at combat. That needs to change. Just because my leg is lame doesn't mean I can't lead, and that wound did nothing to my sword arm. Besides which, Garlan was already selected to lead the men here up to meet the rest of the army for Renly's grand scheme." His amusement was rather withering at those last few words.

"No." said Olenna firmly. "I'll not send you out like that. I have another task for you."

In one wrinkled old hand she held up another missive, this one from another of her spies in the Crownlands. He was an itinerant tinker, who always traveled all over the place searching for business. This made him one of her better informers if a little intermittent in when he could send off messages. "One of the informers of our house in the Crownlands has passed on the fact that the Targaryens have returned!"

She looked over at Margaery, who like the two men had sat up abruptly. "Most specifically the Stormborn girl. The agent talked to a few sailors from the ship that brought her and the Stark boy back, they all said they were quite close. And that she brought two young dragons with her!"

Garlan was the first to respond, slumping forward and placing his face in his hands. "It just goes from bad to worse! How fast do dragons grow anyway?"

Rubbing his own face wearily, Willas shook his head. "I've actually studied dragons a time or two, purely for interest they are fascinating animals you understand. It will be around two years before they are capable of carrying a rider for any appreciable length of time. But every month that goes past they will be able to fly a little further alone. Unfortunately I have no idea how long it would take for them to start breathing fire, though I don't think they would be able to until at least their first year, to breathe any appreciable size of flame at any rate. But I agree with my brother, this is… bad."

"Could we…" Garlan asked looking at his grandmother. "Could we arrange for an… 'accident' to occur to Renly? With him gone we could say we had been led astray by wrong counsel? Our House was after all known to be loyal to the Targaryens during the War of the Usurper."

"No." Willas said shaking his head. "The Starks believe in honor, if we throw over Renly now, what will that say of us? That we can't go the distance, much as we did it in the last war? Oh, father makes a big act about how he was the only general the Targaryen had that won battles against Robert Baratheon, but what did that do, simply take him out of position to be of any use whatsoever when the Starks, Tullys, Lannisters and Baratheons came calling on King's Landing."

"No, if Renly dies of natural causes or in battle that is one thing, but if he dies mysteriously…" Willas shook his head. "Margaery's right, we should never have pulled her out of King's Landing, now we must make a good enough showing to show how we could hurt them if they don't make peace with us."

Olenna frowned at that, but knew that Willas had a point. Besides, she thought to herself, poisons don't have to be used on people alone after all. Olenna personally held no loyalty to House Targaryen. She only had loyalty to her own family and keeping them safe and powerful.

Margaery shook her head, having recovered from her own shock. In truth, she couldn't blame Ranma or this Stormborn girl for getting close as it were, no matter how much that pained her to admit. She had been pulled out of King's Landing, and while their friendship was strong, neither of them had allowed any attraction to grow between them, Ranma because of his desire to keep Margaery at arm's length, and Margaery because of her parents orders to also play for the brat who now sat on the throne.

"Send me." she said aloud. "Ranma will listen to me, even if he and the Targaryen girl have become close." she did notice how she spat out those words, "he'll still listen to me at least politically. And despite Loras not backing his father, he won't have much of a problem with me or our family. Not yet anyway, so we can safely ally with the North and the Targaryens now, regardless of what Willas says."

"Mace will never go for it, not yet." Olenna said shaking her head. She was frankly becoming very unhappy about her family being close to the target of so many people's ambitions, but they couldn't get out of it! Not with Mace and his ego in the way, as well as their current agreement with Renly. That didn't even consider Loras and his relationship with the Baratheon boy.

"No." Olenna went on firmly. "I'm not sending you to the Starks Margaery that would serve no purpose at all even if you could reach them from here. Unless it slipped your mind, the Riverlands are a war zone right now. Plus Stannis has declared his intention to become king, which means you couldn't go by sea either, unless you think you should go around Dorne and the Westerlands?"

Margaery scowled, conceding the point. The conversation continued from there, but none of them really had any good idea of what to do from here on other than to continue to keep their options open.

As her grandchildren left, Olenna pulled out two more raven messages, placing them on the table in front of her. If the dragon girl has already descended into her family's fire-madness, steps must be taken. And even if she hasn't she might blame the Reach for not being there to defend her father and seek to take vengeance because of it.

She paused at that thought, then shook her head. No, I helped get my family into this cleft point by jumping in without enough information once already. I need to wait until we hear more about the Stormborn girl before taking any precipitous action.

Beyond the girl's character and intentions towards my family there are two questions we need to answer before even trying to plan out a course of action. First, how will the rest of Westeros react to the dragons return, specifically the other noble families of the Reach? And second, if the Targaryen girl returned with two dragons and the Stark boy's aid, what happened to her older brother? As oldest, he would be the one to be seen as the legitimate heir of that family. Until we know those answers as Willas said our best bet in many ways is to continue to sail the present course. Besides, it isn't as if we have welded ourselves to Renly irrevocably, nor are we lacking in alternatives.

Rubbing at her nose wearily she set the two missives aside for now. Groaning a little she lifted herself out of her chair and made her way to her bed for the evening. As she left, the firelight caught the fire, allowing the sigils on both to be seen. On one was a fire edged heart with a stag's head over a crown, the sigil of House Baratheon of Dragonstone. On the other was the lion sigil of House Lannister.

OOOOOOO

Later that evening, Margaery laid in bed staring up the ceiling. I hate being on the sidelines like this! In King's Landing at least I could affect some things, and it didn't take a disaster to make Ranma listen to me like it did my grandmother! By the Mother, my father still isn't willing to listen to me!

For just a moment the thought of Ranma flowed through her head, his blue eyes, happy smile and joking manner, and his serious air when training Tommen, and his fury when he tore the Mountain that Rode to pieces. Then the image changed to Ranma standing beside a platinum haired violet eyed young woman of indeterminate features. She scowled shaking her head to banish the image. She couldn't banish the thoughts however, nor the fear that it would be a while before she could once again act to truly influence matters.

The next day Willas left Highgarden over his grandmother's objections. He led a force of a thousand light cavalry, five hundred archers, six hundred infantry and two hundred heavy cavalry taken from the Tyrell forces gathered here in Highgarden. After bidding his family farewell, Willas turned then rode to the head of the column, his face grim. His objective was to hunt down the mercenaries wreaking havoc over the western edge of the Reach. And maybe, just maybe, he thought to himself, a bit more than that if the opportunity presented itself.

OOOOOOO

It took the northern army two and a half weeks to cover the distance between Castle Cerwyn and Moat Cailin. It was an amazing time for an army of their size covering that distance, and it had only been made possible because of the way they set the pace plus the fact that their supplies all came with them, keeping their need to stop to forage for food to a minimum. To aid in this the wolfsworn went forward every day to prepare the campsite for the evening and hunt up some meat to add to the stores. This kept the army's morale up and physically moving at a brisk clip despite spending so much time every evening exercising and, in the case of the pikemen, drilling in formation.

The wolfsworn too had been training. Ranma was happy to see that all of them had shown at least a little bit of being able to use ki, though Daenerys and Myrcella were lagging far behind of course. The only ones who could not strengthen their blades with ki for at least a few moments were Dacey, Roger and Smalljon, whose chosen weapons were much larger than the others, which probably explained it. Despite that, Ranma was pleased with their progress.

As they arrived Jon and Ranma were at the head of the column. Jon smirked, seeing several dozen carts full of goods waiting for them. "I see Lady Dustin has gotten over her funk, at least enough to keep that 'lady' in front of her name." he quipped.

"So far, though you, Domeric and your factors should go over it. Make certain that everything we ordered is there." Ranma had been rather irritated with the woman not showing up for the war council and had jumped at Daenerys' suggestion there. Honestly Ranma had been looking for an excuse to remove her and place a more favored House in charge of Barrowton. A town like that was a major resource to any house, and Dustin was wasting it at this point, simply happy to live on with her anger and angst alone. Still he wouldn't remove her until she gave him good cause.

"Look who else is here?" Ranma said pointing to the side. Meera stood there, her trident sticking in the ground next to her and her bow on her back. Ranma ran up to her, as did Jon and they took turns pulling her into a hug laughing as she tried to beat at their shoulders to let her go. "Hey little Meera," Ranma said laughing as he set her down. "How are you, and where's your father? I'd expected him to be here. Not that I'm unhappy to see you, or the work done on the Moat though."

Indeed that was an understatement. Moat Cailin would never again be the massive fortress it had once been, before the land shifted and the Neck came in, but the tower and wall that had been repaired removed its one glaring weakness, that it was open to assault from behind and from the Fever River. Now the largest of the towers stood repaired, with a ballista on top and room for at least a hundred archers on the roof alone. Any one tower of the Moat would be a difficult proposition for an invading army to destroy or bypass. All three of them combined would be impossible, especially with the Crannogmen on the side of the defenders.

"My father's out with our scouts." She replied pushing Jon away breaking their familial hug her grin at the Stark boys' antics disappearing. "You see…" From there Meera went on to explain what the Freys had been up to and their houses.

Through it all Ranma frowned while the rest of the army arrived behind them. Daenerys and the rest of the command group arrived soon after, peeling off to join them save for Domeric and a few other lieutenants who took charge of getting the army situated for the night. Travel through the Neck would be tough since Ranma wanted to move quickly enough so that the men wouldn't come down with any of the local diseases, at least not any of the worse ones. But that would mean sending them forward in small lots so they didn't get bogged up in any one area. It'd taken the Kings party two weeks to cross the neck. Ranma intended to do it in a third of the time.

Arya interrupted proceedings by pulling Meera into a hug of her own as soon as she saw her. "Finally, another tomboy! Save me from the girly talk!" She glared at Daenerys who was laughing at her. in truth the conversations most nights between the girls hadn't truly been all that 'girly' most of the time, but the few times it was had obviously been enough for Arya.

She turned to look at Ranma, not realizing her hold on Meera. "She's coming with us." Arya stated firmly. "I'll share a tent with her from now on, I refuse to listen to one more discussion about heraldry, what different cloth costs or anything about Daenerys and my brother's relationship!"

Daenerys flushed slightly at that while Meera looked a little interested before wiping the look of her face when Arya turned to look at her. Ranma however simply shrugged. "I'd been planning to ask you to join us anyway Meera. Great-uncle Brynden could use a second in command of the scouts, and you're one of the best I know of for that.

"You mean it?" Meera asked, her eyes shining. While she would never think to offend her home, Meera had long wanted to see other lands, and going south with the army would let her do that. Plus, she might eventually join the wolfsworn itself.

To one side of the conversation Rickard scowled at the idea of another young woman joining them, but he knew better by now than to object. Arya thumping him twice when he joined the wolfsworn in their exercise had a lot to do with that, as did the fact Daenerys almost did the same despite having only been trained with Ranma intermittently since they meet.

"Yep, I'll need to clear it with your father first of course. For now though, keep going with the news about this blocking force in our way."

After listening to what was going on, Daenerys frowned. "They're just sitting there, just to make a point? If the Freys are really that powerful, should we try to make a deal with them? They control a very strategic position that we could use, one we must deny to our enemies."

"No." Ranma said shaking his head firmly. "The Freys have never proven to be trustworthy or even good allies. Late Lord Frey is what the old man is known as further south, because he never joins any war except at the very end when it's time to divvy up the spoils. He did it for the War of the Usurper, he did it for the Ironborn Rebellion, and even for the Ninepenny Kings War. That's especially damning since the Ironborn attacked Seagard and the Cape of Eagles, which given its position House Frey should have been quick to reinforce. They never did."

"All that means is that his strength has never been diluted before." Daenerys argued back. "Besides, this force is sitting right in our path. They've had weeks to build up that defensive position, they could plead our army badly if we decide to fight them."

"I think we should send a small force forward to talk to these Freys and see what they might want in exchange for their help. Depending on who is in charge we might learn more about the house's intentions." Domeric said diplomatically, coming up behind them both

"Agreed." Ranma said nodding his head. "Myself Jon and the rest of the wolfsworn. Daenerys, you'll stay here. I don't want news of your dragons to get out just yet if we can help it."

Daenerys frowned, not having much faith in Ranma's diplomatic skills, but she nodded. It wasn't as if she could leave her draklings here after all. Oh, Myrcella and Jon were decent enough with them. Cley too had proven helpful, the draklings apparently willing to let young children near them where they would not adults. How much of that had to do with their natural temperament or Fenris' lying nearby his golden eyes piercing both of them Daenerys didn't know. Jon on the other hand seemed to connect with them almost as well as Bran.

But none of them could really control her little ones. At least not without Jon warging with them, which was unproven at this point. Nor would Daenerys allow that except under dire circumstances. It wasn't proven just yet if an animal could bond with more than one human after all, and Daenerys didn't want to let anyone else bond with her children. Befriend yes, bond no. That was selfish of her, and a weakness, but Daenerys couldn't help it.

OOOOOOO

The next morning Ranma and the wolfsworn raced ahead of the army. Each of the wolfsworn on horseback taking three each with them so that they could keep up with the wolves as they entered that ground devouring lope of theirs with Jon, Ranma and even Arya racing along with them. Admittedly Arya had to rest once a day on Nymeria's back, but it was still an impressive feat. They crossed the neck in four days, an amazing time but one that had most of their horses lathered.

Ranma took one look at the horses and looked at Roger, Dacey, Daryn and Smalljon. "You lot stay here, hide yourselves back at that last campsite. Jon, Arya and I will go on."

"Are you sure you should take Arya?" Roger asked dubiously.

"Are you sure you can stop me?" Arya asked looking up at him challengingly. Despite having grown another inch since this march began Arya was still the shortest one there by a considerable margin. Unless you counted Daenerys or Myrcella, then she was still shorter than the former, but a little taller than the latter.

"Thought not." Ranma laughed, ruffling his sister's short, choppily cut hair for a moment before pulling himself up onto Fenris back. The wolf shifted a little irritably, and Ranma moved forward slightly which caused him to calm down. "Let's go make an impression."

The three Starks road forward on their direwolves, and Ranma was pleased to see that they were indeed making the correct impression on the Freys behind their barricades. He was also pleased to see that said barricades were not nearly as well constructed as they should have been given the amount of time that the Frey men had been here. Which shows that House Frey really is trying to play both sides here, he thought to himself. Stupid, very stupid, since I doubt Tywin Lannister is any more forgiving of betrayal than I am, at least when someone is betraying him at any rate.

After a moment while the Frey men ran around and shouted, the three of them continued on, with Jon carrying a flag of peace while Arya held up the Stark banner, a gray direwolf on the black background. Just out of bow range they stopped, waiting. After a moment four men rode out, though their horses were visibly nervous around the huge predators. It'd taken nearly the entire march for the horses of the northern army to get used to them, so that was fair at least. Two of them road forward under the banner of House Haigh, a knightly House that was known to be sworn to House Frey, and the one whose men Meera had told them had been the ones causing trouble.

The other two were both Freys, wearing their colors. The one in the lead was of medium height and looked wiry, with dark black eyes and a thin, arrogant smile on his face. The other was a fat man, older than the first, who looked as if he had… well Ranma thought he looked like he was OD'ing on something or just plain stupid. That man and one of the Haigh men stopped several horse-lengths back, while the other two kept coming.

The conversation got to that off to a bad start as soon as the men stopped their horses within speaking distance. "I am Black Walder of House Frey and I speak for my house and its allies." Black Walder turned to Arya, leering at her suggestively. "And is this supposed to be your offering for safe passage? I hope she cleans up better than she looks right now."

Arya proved Ranma proud with her response. Instead of doing anything she simply smiled back, her eyes like chips of stone so cold that the man actually flinched away for a moment. "You looked much more intelligent with your mouth closed, I think you'd look even better with your head separated from the rest of you."

"Enough." Ranma said smiling internally. "We came out here to actually talk, not exchange insults. "Why do you block our path? For that matter, I see…" he paused ostentatiously to count the men in the small defensive formation in front of them. "Something like, what, a thousand five hundred men here? Why aren't these men down south where they could be of use against the Lannister army?"

"But Lord Tully did not send any such message to us, all we heard was that Ser Edmure might be wanted for treason. The same as your father I believe." Black Walder went on ignoring how all three Starks eyes had turned dangerous at that. "Nonetheless, due to the number of different stories coming out of King's Landing, my great-grandfather Lord Walder Frey has decided to take a neutral stance in regards to this conflict at this time. My great-grandfather wishes to speak to you in person, to hear your insights on what really occurred to spark this conflict." Despite the words the man obviously didn't care about the truth of what had happened, his tone and rote words said as much, though his eyes were calculating as they watched Ranma.

"In other words." Jon murmured. "Your lord wants to see if we can match or exceed whatever the Lannister's promised you?"

"Exactly." Black Walder smirked. "If you can offer us something more real or tangible then the promises of the Lannisters, my family will join you. That'll add another four thousand men give or take to your army."

Ranma cocked his head staring at the other man, then asked bluntly. "And if I had proof that it was the Lannisters who committed treason first? And that your Lord Paramount's heir is being held as a hostage against his father's good conduct? Would that matter?"

"It might have mattered to my grandfather Stevron." Black Walder said with a shrug. "He had a bit of an accident a few weeks ago though, and that didn't leave many Tully supporters among us." The fact that Black Walder had helped create that accident wasn't about to be something he would share. Despite being the firstborn son, Stevron Frey had been sort of a disappointment to Old Walder, never showing the proper amount of ruthlessness that Old Walder prized so much and his children. His male ones anyway.

"I see. Would you recognize Lord Tully's handwriting by any chance?" Ranma asked almost lightly but his eyes were sharp as they gazed at the other man. One hand however tapped his thigh, a finger point past the Frey delegation. Jon saw this, and used the same signal to pass the silent message on to Arya on his other side.

"Not at all, and anything that the Old Fish wrote wouldn't change my mind anyway."

"Thought not. Well here are some thoughts for you, Black Walder. My grandfather has appointed me his voice, his deputy until Edmure is returned to him." Ranma said sternly. "As such I command you to move out of the way immediately. You may join my forces or not, I care not and need your men not. But you are standing in my way of protecting the Riverlands from the Lannister's, of going to my grandfather aid and seeking justice for the Lannister's treason. Remain here, and you will be treated as just another enemy."

Black Walder fingered his sword, smirking insolently at Ranma. "If that's your final word on it, that's fine. You go ahead and bring up your army boy, will see how many of you can die here."

"Against your rabble, be serious." Jon said scoffing and spitting and one side.

" The Freys haven't even fought in any of the last few wars." Arya piped up staring past Black Walder at the line of defenders. "You sure your men even know which way to point their spears?"

"You." Black Walder said his anger rising to the fore with its usual ease. "I'll save you for last girl. My men and I will have some fun with you."

"Your guts will look very pretty on the ground, I'll be sure to put them there personally." Arya said, her eyes glittering.

"We're done here." Ranma said turning away. At a mental command to Fenris he leaped forward, followed by his pack mates away from the former position. It was well they had, because as soon as Ranma had said that Walder had raised his hand in the air, and a dozen archers had fired at where the three Starks had been, having moved up during the talks using what little cover there was. There hadn't been enough however, and Ranma had seen them in time to signal his siblings.

Jon quickly ducked under one of the arrows that flew past where his head had been, while Ranma plucked another arrow out of the air right before it would strike Nymeria in the side. "Run!" Ranma barked. At this distance only Ranma would survive to get in close range with those archers, and that was unacceptable. Better to retreat for now.

More arrows flew after them as the rest of the Frey archers moved up to join their fellows, but the three wolves were already moving faster than the archers could track, dodging this way and that randomly. Soon they were out of bow range heading into the Neck up the Kingsroad once more. About twenty minutes later they came upon their friends, all of them resting on the ground of the small campsite, their horses tied up for the day and still looking knackered. Daryn saw them first and smiled grimly. "I take it diplomacy failed?"

"If we wanted diplomacy to work we should've brought a diplomat." Ranma said shrugging his shoulders. "And so should they."

"They sent Black Walder of all people!" Jon said shrugging his shoulders. "Great uncle Brynden said he was one of the worst of the lot. He hinted at the fact that the only one Brynden and Domeric said was anything, Stevron, was killed recently in an, an inter-family power grab I'd guess. If that's the case, the Freys have lost the one voice that had any sense of honor among them."

"Black Walder, really?" asked Roger. He and Hathan exchanged glances then shook their heads in unison. "That man's a rapist and a murderer, he's only gotten away with it because he is Frey. There been tales of him taking liberties with smallfolk girls and women for years, as well as his own female family members. I heard about one such episode when I went down to Fairmarket for a tourney once."

Hathan nodded agreement, having heard the same thing from a tourney held by House Darry several years back. "The tales say he slept with one of Old Walder's wives, and either coerced or raped one of his nieces, the man who shared that tale with me wasn't sure which."

"He's mine." Arya and Dacey said at the same time. Dacey looked at Arya and Arya shrugged. "He insulted me to my face, he's mine." Dacey shrugged her shoulders so long as one of them was going to get that bastard she didn't care.

" That means we'll have to take out the Twins too." Daryn said, working his shoulders under his plate armor. "That's not good. And I hate to say it, but their defensive position is pretty good. The only way to get an army out of the Neck is by the Kingsroad, and with their position they'll cost us sore to break through."

"You're making the same mistake they did." Ranma said shaking his head and getting off Fenris at last. "Just because no appreciable force can go through the marshes doesn't mean no force can, and just because the crannogmen built that dock by the Kingsroad doesn't mean that's the only place where marsh boats can go ashore. Trust me Daryn, we'll get past them."

"Your words are wise Lord Stark, and before I forget, congratulations on both your elevation and achieving it while your father is still around to enjoy his semi-retirement." A voice said from the swamp beyond the hardened rock and ground of the campsite's edge. All the Wolfsworn turned, most of their hands flashing towards weapons as over a dozen crannogmen paddled their small boats out of the marshes behind the small camp area.

Ranma however smiled going over towards the edge and catching the ropes tossed his way by the crannogmen, then began to pull their tiny boats up alongside the Kingsroad. "Lord Reed, just the man I was looking for…"

OOOOOOO

While Howland stayed there with his hunters to make certain that the small Frey force remained where they were, Ranma and the others raced back through the Neck, Ranma laughing quietly at how Lord Reed and he had been thinking along the same lines. By the time they got back to Moat Cailin dozens of tiny marsh craft were there, each of them with a single steersman.

When they arrived, Daenerys and the rest of the command staff were waiting, and she looked at Ranma quizzically. "I take it didn't go well? The arrow that Arya is playing with sort of gives me the clue."

Ranma shook his head. "You might say that." Once they were all gathered he gave the gist of the conversation, and was unsurprised by Greatjon and Rickard both taking umbrage at the attitude of the Frey man.

"Surely his entire family can't be like that can they?" Daenerys asked, looking a little sick at the past exploits of Black Walder.

"They weren't." Domeric said promptly, as well as Brynden. Brynden waved his hand at Domeric who he had discovered had actually been to the Twins several times before heading further south, much more recently than Brynden. Domeric nodded at the older man then went on. "Stevron was a good man and took his oaths seriously. He acted as Old Walder's eyes and ears in the world abroad, though that was changing when I was last in the Riverlands, and he was taking over as the castellan of the Twins. But if he is dead due to interfamily politics, that removes the only voice of honorable opposition in House Frey that had any weight to it. Not good. Old Walder has made that place a cesspit, where every family member is out for their own gain and that of the family above any other consideration."

"So you're saying there's no chance of us trying to gain their support?" Daenerys asked looking a little crestfallen. "We could certainly use the aid, and having both the supply depot and the Twins on the other side of the Neck would be a great boon to our supply lines."

Greatjon scowled, but Rickard was the one who spoke up. "Even if we tried to make a deal with the Freys, and I don't think we should, we can't trust them to keep it. As the bard said, the Freys are always out for one thing, their own largess. They don't care about anything else, that's why the old bastard has had so many wives and killed all of them in childbirth. He's used his children like tools, or spider-webs rather, spreading his influence over the Riverlands and beyond. I've heard tell he even married one of his sons to a Lannister, which means they have already chosen their side in this conflict."

He looked at Ranma. "That's why myself and Lord Hornwood joined with your farther to argue your lady mother down on the idea of you marrying one of his daughters. Yes it would've helped in the short term, but in the long term…" Rickard shrugged. "It would be like having a viper in your bed, docile at present but ready to strike when it can. You can't trust someone like that, not someone who's willing to turn over to a new side the moment there's anything to gain by it."

"In any event, we'd have to match whatever the Lannisters promised him, and I'm not about to even try to do that." Ranma said, nodding his head in agreement.

"But that means we'll have to take out the Twins won't we?" Myrcella asked from where she stood by Daenerys, waiting to ask about medicine ingredients, having talked to Meera about them earlier. All eyes turned to her and she shrugged looking a little uncomfortable and embarrassed at the attention. "I, I mean, I've heard stories about the Twins, and it's supposed to be a very tough castle. How are you going to do it without losing a lot of men?"

Ranma smirked a little. "By playing to what Old Walder thinks is strength, but is in reality a weakness." Everyone looked at him quizzically but Ranma would say no more on that subject.

Later that night after Ranma had detailed given out his orders in preparation for the coming battle, he and Daenerys shared a room in one of the towers. The two of them, Myrcella, Jon and Arya had taken dinner together, and the others had all retired by this point.

Daenerys decided to try once again to broach the subject of the Freys. "Are you sure there is no way we could get them on our side? They would be such a massive resource for us going forward. I hate to see that going to waste, and I hate to think of what it might cost us to take the Twins."

"If it's just the taking of the Twins don't worry. I have a plan to at least minimize our losses as much is possible. Besides you saw how Rickard and Greatjon reacted." He said turning back to Daenerys after having divested himself of his jerkin.

The sight of his muscled chest caused Daenerys to shiver a little, looking forward to what was about to happen after they finished talking. They hadn't had much time alone on the march, neither of them having the privacy to indulge. One thing that had impressed Daenerys was that Ranma refused to live any better than his soldiers. While he had a slightly larger tent, he shared it with Jon and Cley, much like she shared her own, even larger tent with Myrcella, Alayaya, Arya and Dacey.

She tamped down her excitement with difficulty, concentrating on his words for now. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that the Freys have a certain reputation. Old Walder's been in command of that House for too long, he stamped it with his own image, and everyone who has dealt with them knows it. I have no doubt that if we allied with the Freys we would gain more than just that House, we could then call on the Houses it has connections to, but we would also alienate other Houses, including my own lords. You can't deal with a man of dishonor and assume that others won't come to think the same of you."

"I see." Daenerys said thoughtfully. "I hadn't considered that. I had heard so much of their power, and my brother and I and the magister had talked long and hard about how to get them on our side, I guess I'm just having trouble letting that go."

Ranma grinned, taking her into his arms. "You might know which houses are dangerous, or could be loyal to you are ambitious or whatever, the weaknesses in each realm, but that's all. I know people, and I know how the Freys are seen." Indeed, that had been the lesson that Ser Desmond Grell had taught him in King's Landing, and one that Ranma had taken to heart.

"Now, I think that's enough talking." he went on, picking her up and tossing her onto the bed where she landed with a laugh.

Daenerys then reached out, pulling Ranma down to join her and those were indeed the last words spoken for the rest of the night.

OOOOOOO

By lunchtime the next day Edd, Meera, Smalljon and Domeric had disappeared, taking the archers with them. They would soon be followed by nearly four hundred irregular infantry, mostly from the mountain clans. The operation had begun last night, with the small hunting coracles that Lord Reed and his people had supplied spiriting the men away into the marshes.

Able to move only four men at a pinch Reed had taken every boat his house and the minor houses beholden to him could supply. Even so they would still need to make two trips to bring over the full force assigned to this part of the battle. That force however would be split in small groups and staying well away from the area where the Freys were patrolling. That was something Howland and his men had noticed, the Freys were not patrolling nearly as aggressively as they should. Now they were going to pay for it. By the time the mend with Edd and Daryn were all across, Ranma, the rest of the wolfsworn and the heavy cavalry would be in position.

Once the Freys were smashed out of the way, Ranma would send Fenris back through down the Kingsroad to Daenerys, who along with Rickard would lead the rest of the Army through the Neck at a fast clip. They would keep on going during the night, only stopping for short hour-long rest to keep up their strength until they were out of the Neck.

This way they would be able to break out of the Neck within four or five days. Their speed would also be helped along by Lord Reeds' people. Once the gathered coracles dropped off the archers and infantry they would come back and start to drop off food and other supplies allowing the Army to move without needing to bring along their own baggage for this part of the trip, and would even carry most of the armor and weapons for the infantry.

The heavy cavalry took two remounts each, having stripped the light cavalry of their horses for this. They switched horses at every rest, but kept going during the night, exhausting themselves but crossing the entirety of the Neck within five days, a feat unheard of. Near the end of the Neck they rested along the same area of the Kingsroad where the wolfsworn had rested before, getting ready for the battle to come. Thanks to their speed only a few men had fallen ill, and all of them simply had stomach viruses from the bogs rather than any major illnesses. That was good, and this move had put the entirety of the northern heavy cavalry force, a thousand plus heavily armored armsmen and minor lords, within striking distance of the Frey line.

It was deep night when they were ready. Ranma took the Stark and peace flag banner, letting them rest on his shoulders easily where he sat astride Fenris. He looked over at the wolfsworn with him and at Greatjon, who rode at his side. "Ready?"

"Ready to gut the dishonorable bastards." Greatjon snarled, patting the hilt of his heavy greatsword where it hung from his saddle. It was half again the size of his son's, which was a little longer than even Dacey's. That made him slower than either of them, but he had more than enough strength to wield such a weapon at least in the normal manner. "But are you sure that the Karstark and Hornwood boys will be in position?"

"I trust all the wolfsworn to perform their duty to their utmost, as I do every man of the North." Ranma said firmly looking over at Jon and Arya who also looked eager to get on with it. Both of them stiffened in pride, and he could see his words had an effect. Even Greatjon sat up straighter in his saddle.

Ranma smiled back at them all, his face showing his pride in them all. "Who is with me?" It was only the fact they had to keep quite that kept Greatjon and many of the others from shouting out at that.

Seeing that, Ranma sent a mental command to Fenris who turned and began to lope out of the Neck. Soon he was within sight of the Frey barricades, lit up by dozens of torches along their line. Earthing both of the banners to either side of Fenris Ranma then took out a torch and lit it, holding it above his head.

The light drew the attention of the men on watch, and they shouted into the camp. It took what seemed forever but which was probably only half an hour before the men in the camp had roused themselves, moving to their positions along the earthworks they had thrown up, which hadn't been added to overmuch since Ranma had last been here. That was astonishing, but given their inability to bring in wood, he supposed it was the best they were going to do.

Once he was certain he had the defenders attention completely on him, Ranma cupped his free hand around his mouth and shouted in a loud clear voice. "This is your final warning. Disband, bend the knee to your Lord Paramount's lawful representative, or prepare for battle."

His response was jeers and catcalls, and more than a few arrows. Only one actually was on target, and Ranma negligently smacked out of the air whenever they came near him. He could distantly hear a voice shouting "See! I told you, no one believed me but I told you all, I saw the Stark boy catch an arrow the last time!"

Ranma laughed lightly while below him Fenris too snapped at an arrow that was coming towards him tossing it aside with a contemptuous noise deep in his throat. "So be it, your bones will feed the earth when we are done with you!" Ranma shouted, feeling a little foolish at how formal he had to be for this.

With that he turned, disappearing back into the neck. As soon as he joined Jon and Arya, he nodded at them. All three of leaned forward, whispering into their direwolf's ears.

Greatjon and the rest of the heavy cavalry knew this was a signal, and every man there gripped the reins tighter. The three wolves sat there, their riders momentarily getting off their backs as the wolves howled. A normal wolf's howl was loud, and could be heard for miles around. A direwolf's howl could be heard for a dozen miles more, and three Stark 'pets' singing a duet was possibly the most terrifying thing many a man there had ever heard.

OOOOOOO

Edd shivered where he stood with a band of thirty archers and ten mountain clansmen. The clansmen had lead them so close to the Frey camp undetected it was astonishing given the lack of trees or other natural camouflage. "Okay, that is a little more of a visceral sound than I expected."

One of the archers spat to one side. "Don't know what visceral means, but if'n it means terrifyin' you're right milord."

"Yeah." Edd said. "That'll do. That was the signal, let's get started."

All around the Frey line groups of similar disposition were making their way towards them, using the darkness to come closer and closer to the well-lit Freys line. Several of the mountain clan scouts further proved their worth by silently killing the guards on watch elsewhere around the Frey camp that should've been alerted to their approach. Now, with the rest of the Frey force up and on their feet waiting for an attack from the front, Edd, Daryn and their men began to assault them from behind and to their left flank.

This would force them to retreat right if they could retreat at all, away from the Twins. There would no doubt be a few who got away in the night, during the confusion of battle there could be no other outcome. But if the majority of men couldn't go that way, that was enough for Ranma.

Aimed thanks to the Freys torches, arrows flew, falling among the Frye men with deadly force. More than a dozen men went down, then a hundred as other small groups took up the barrage from elsewhere. Smalljon's bellow was almost as loud as his father as it came from directly behind the Freys defensive line. "The Giants Fury!"

Edd responded shouting his own family's words. "The sun of winter! The sun of winter!"

The effect on the enemy battle line was pandemonium. Black Walder wasn't a very innovative thinker except in areas where it allowed him to get into a woman's panties. The torches he had ordered lit the moment Ranma and his torch came into sight had robbed most of his men of their night vision, and now they couldn't see a damn thing while their attackers sent arrow after arrow into them with impunity.

Here and there men of both House Frey and House Haigh took command of the men near them and turned, ordering them to charge in the direction of the attacks.

Black Walder did the same, cursing inventively. "That Stark bastard's suckered us, he wanted us to concentrate our attention on the Neck, when he'd already gotten a few of his troops across. Dammit, how many of them can there be do you think?" he asked the nearest man, his father Ryman. He was ostensibly in charge here, but Old Walder had bluntly told his least intelligent son to let Black Walder handle everything.

What insight Walder thought his father could have given him at that point the man didn't know, and would never find out. Ryman would never answer that or any other question ever again, an arrow taking him in the neck at that moment.

It was about to get worse for Walder and his men. Back at the entrance to the neck all three of the direwolves had stood up, ears cocked and Ranma smirked. Soon even the humans could hear the sound of battle, and he pulled himself up onto Fenris' back once more. "I believe it's time for us to join the party, Greatjon."

Greatjon and the others laughed, and soon the heavy Cavalry cantered out of the neck, then formed into columns. Each column was headed by a wolfsworn or Greatjon and each of them had been assigned a very specific point along the defensive circle that was the earthworks of the Freys. Ranma was straight ahead, with Arya and Jon on either side their wolves howling as they raced ahead of the cavalry. Despite weeks of getting used to the direwolves none of the horses wanted to be any closer than they had to beat to the direwolves on the hunt, which was just fine by the three of them.

The other columns spread out, each of them hitting another point along the use circle of the Freys. What little heavy or light cavalry the Freys had begun to put together to chase down the archers shattered like glass when the direwolves and the cavalry behind them hit their line from their back.

Men were unhorsed by their rearing animals, frightened out of their wits by the howls of the wolves, the smell of blood all around them. Other men were simply hacked out of their saddles. Each column then spread, every fifteenth man carried a torch allowing everyone around them to see as the Freys, having left their earthworks to start chasing down Edd and Smalljon's men found themselves encircled and outnumbered.

Arya didn't care for any of that, she had a very specific target in mind. She made for the House Frey banner that she could see moving away from the battle trying to escape. That their line of retreat brought them closer to Smalljon's men didn't seem to register, but she didn't care about that either. She wanted Black Walder, and howled with joy, sounding almost as much of a wild animal as Nymeria when she saw him.

Walder had just noticed the banner man following him still holding the banner and he the man down yelling. "You fucking fool, you've doomed us!"

A second later Arya was on them. Fang sliced one man's neck open as she vaulted from Nymeria's back. Landing she rolled to dodge another blow, her small buckler slamming out into the outside of the knee of the man who had tried to take her head. He went down screaming clutching his leg, but not for long. Arya's sword came around punching into the side of his plate armor, before she pulled it out to engage Black Walder.

What Black Walder lacked in many areas too numerous to mention he made up for in skill with the sword and sheer viciousness. The two of them exchanged a few blows before he kicked out, trying to catch Arya in the knee, then an elbow that should've taken her in it her head. Instead Arya had blocked the kick with her buckler, then ducked backwards to dodge the elbow blow to her face, pushing it aside with her shield arm and then bringing her sword up in a underhand blow to cut into his arm, sending it flying away in a welter of blood.

Walder screamed, falling back for a moment, using all his willpower to remain upright. "You bitch!" His sword came around faster than Arya had expected given his injury and she barely got her sword back in time to block it. Even so she was thrown back a few feet by the force of the blow.

He attacked her maddened at the loss of his arm forcing Arya ever backward. Then Walder overextended slightly, and Arya guided his blade downwards as she leapt up, kicking out with both feet, her boots slamming into Walder's face with pile driving force. His nose, jaw and many of his teeth shattered under that blow, and he flew backwards with a squeal of agony.

Impacting the ground Walder groaned, his sword lost as he had flown backwards from Arya's mule kick and the pain of his arm now overcoming is rage-fueled adrenaline. He looked up blearily to see Arya standing above him, Fang poised to stab down into his chest. "I told you I'd kill you 'Black' Walder, maybe in the next lifetime you'll learn how to speak to a warrior like me." With that she thrust downward, smashing into and through the man's good plate armor straight into his heart.

After the body had stopped kicking Arya tried to pull it out, only to realize it was stuck. She looked up as a man wielding a mace came at her, only to be hacked nearly in two by a giant greatsword as a cavalryman came up on her side. "There's a trick ta stabbing someone through plate armor lass." Greatjon said, almost conversationally as he hewed down another man, sending the man's head and arm flying with the massive overhand blow. "Best stick to necks and faces until you get the hang of it."

"I'll keep that in mind, my Lord." Arya said demurely, pulling Fang out finally and taking up position alongside Greatjon. Greatjon guffawed, and the battle continued.

Forty minutes later it was all over, and the only surviving Frey men word those that had surrendered. A few might've escaped in the night, but not many. The way out of the Neck was clear.

OOOOOOO

After sending Jon and Ghost back up the Neck to start the rest of the men marching, Ranma consolidated his position. The archers had barely lost a dozen men during the night attack, though their mountain clan protectors had lost forty-two against the Freys. The cavalry had barely lost three, with two having severe injuries that they would live through, but which would force them to be sent back to the Moat and a single death from a particularly unlucky cavalrymen who had run into a group of ten spearmen who had retained their position. Jon had slaughtered all ten of them after wheeling back through.

While Ranma was doing this, he also sent messengers towards where he had expected the supply depot to be. The men he sent however reported that the port was actually about twenty leagues further down. It was a far better position for the workers, but further away from the Kingsroad, and the land there was just as inhospitable as the Neck minus the threat of disease, but in a far different way. Ranma understood why Wendel had done that, and respected the man's decision. He wanted commanders who would act on their own accord if they knew something he didn't, and this was a prime example.

On his orders the Manderly pikemen remained at the supply depot with the House Locke archers, but Wendel ,his heavy cavalry, the Locke maester and the supplies joined Ranma where he was. They arrived a half day before the rest of the Army began to come out of the Neck.

Now while Wendel and Jon Domeric saw to the rearmament of the army Ranma and the rest of the commanders turned their attention to more important matters. After sharing a brief but very heartfelt hug with Daenerys, Ranma began. "We need to know where Lord Lannister is, and we need to know the current news. We've been out of the loop for too long, and I'm not happy about marchin' into the unknown."

"We also need to finish the Twins off." Rickard said. "Even if they hadn't decided to turn against us before this, they have no choice now. And the Twins is too good a position to leave in our rear if we stay on this side of the Green Fork."

"True." Ranma said with a nod. "But we still need information on what's on this side of the Green Fork as well. Brynden, Domeric, that's up to you."

If it pleases you my Lord, I can be of some help there as well." Alayaya spoke up from where she had been serving them all drinks. Water, not ale or wine. Ranma refused to drink either unless all of his men could do the same, and even then he wouldn't drink much. When all the lords looked at the Summer Island girl, she curtsied quickly. "I was one of Brynden's informers in the city, and served in that capacity for the former Hand as well. I know how to ferret out information even in an unknown environment. If there is even a small village nearby, I can get us some news."

Ranma shared a glance of Brynden who nodded slowly as if reluctant, but then seemed to change his mind, shaking his head. "I think Alayaya, that your talents would be useful in a village of any size, but the nearest village is…" He paused, thinking. "About a week's ride from here. It's a good idea, but I think we should leave off on it until we get down to where more villages and towns are around."

Understanding his point Alayaya curtsied once more. Brynden turned back to Ranma who nodded. "That's why I want you out there uncle, I want you to see if you can find one of the local lords, or at least someone who answers to them, a factor or something, to get us some of the news of what's been going on since we began our march."

"It might take some time." Brynden cautioned. "We have the initiative now, we can't wait here for that information."

Jon had joined them by this point and he broke in now. "It'll take us two days, maybe longer to reorganize and rearm the army, and get the baggage train settled down again. Our method of splitting up and sending the arms through by boats saved us a lot of time on the march through the neck, but will need to take the time now to redistribute it. Worse, the men are exhausted from the forced march, a few days rest would do them all good, let alone the draft and cavalry animals."

"We can wait here five days, that's it." Ranma decided. "I want scouts out in every direction, and the light cavalry is to take over hunting down survivors from the Frey force we smashed here. The heavy cavalry had been doing that job up to this point, but the light is much better suited for it."

"The two nearest houses to hear our House Haigh and Erenford, they're both rolled into the House spray, though from what Wendel tells us Erenford's military strength has also been smashed. We still might run into trouble though." Brynden cautioned.

"Then I expect you to handle it uncle." Ranma said smirking.

If only my two little ones could fly further, Daenerys's thought to herself, that way I could have helped in scouting ahead of the army. She'd recently begun to actually be able to see through their eyes for short periods of time even in flight rather than simply guide their movements. It was an astonishingly amazing experience, but they still couldn't fly very far, a bare five miles. Good enough to do close in scouting, but not distant.

Brynden nodded then immediately made his way towards the nearest batch of scouts, all of them mountain men. He led them off, leaving the camp that very hour.

"While that's going on, Domeric," Ranma said turning to the Bard. "Out of all of us you're the only one who's been to the Twins. What can you tell me about them? I want to know everything you can tell me."

OOOOOOO

Ranma was going over some numbers with Jon and Wendel for the next supply run when Merry burst into his tent, looking as angry as he had ever seen her save when Joffrey came up in conversation. "Oooohhhh that, that man! ARGH!"

The three men who were speaking looked at one another than back at the young princess. "Um, you're going to need to be a little more specific there, Merry. What's wrong?"

" The maester of House Locke, Martyn , is an arrogant conceited asshole!" Merry replied, stamping around and waving her hands in the air. "ugh, I know my language is foul Ranma, but ugh!"

Ranma pulled her down into a one-armed hug, rubbing her hair affectionately. "Calm down and tell us

Merry fought back her blush at the hug. Her love for Ranma had yet to fade despite him now being married, and moments like this fueled her fantasies, not of winning his heart away from Daenerys, but of possibly… joining them. It was a thought that should never have occurred to a high born noble lady, even one whose true father wasn't known, but it had to Myrcella, and she hoped to someday talk to Daenerys about that idea.

She had other things on her mind right now however. "Maester Martyn, he's very particular about being called maester, ugh, is an excellent healer. He knows a lot about herbs, medicines and how best to actually put someone together. His organization however is awful, and his opinion of me is 'a little girl who should be playing with dollies' rather than, as I was at the time, redoing the stitching on one of the injured men's wounds. His bedside manner is also atrocious, he acts as if the injured only become so to irritate him."

Though the fact the man she was working on had threatened to thump him had been gratifying. Indeed even after one battle Myrcella had become a hit with the soldiers, saving two men from gangrene and more than a few from fevers. If she had been closer she could have done even more directly after the battle.

Ranma decided not to point out that Myrcella was indeed still a young girl. Not little so much, but very young. That would not be a good move on his part just then however, so he simply nodded. "Is he unwilling to work with you at all or is it just he doesn't want you near him while he's working? Is he willing to continue your instruction?"

"No, he doesn't want me to even touch the healing supplies, and no!" Merry replied tartly. "He might be willing to let me handle the logistics aspect, but even that's a stretch, and I was serious when I said his organizing skills were awful. He somehow messed up the supplies he brought with him from House Locke, and somehow misplaced a full cartload of ingredients from Lord Reed!"

Realizing this was a real problem that had to be handled, Ranma stood up, letting his arm fall from around Merry's shoulders much to her hidden disappointment. "Let's go see this Martyn fellow."

After speaking to the maester himself, Ranma concluded that Merry was correct, and that if Arya or even the more mildly tempered Dacey heard some of his comments about women healers or warriors they would cut off his head. For now however they needed him. Good as she was Merry couldn't be called a full healer, and maester Martyn was the only one who was willing to come with the army.

Ranma sat them both down and explained that Merry would be in charge of organizing the medical area and handling the medicine and transportation of that and the wounded. Martyn would not be asked to train Merry further and would handle the healing, but if he refused to allow her to help after a battle, Ranma would break his legs.

"After all, you don't need working legs to be a good healer, now do you?" Ranma said, smirking a little at the older man's suddenly pale face. With that, the crisis was halted in its tracks for now, but it was yet another thing Ranma would need to think about in the future.

OOOOOOO

It actually did take four days for the scouts to return with news, and it was mixed to say the least. "We were able to get past House Erenford's land easily enough." Brynden said, gratefully sipping on the water that Alayaya and handed to him the moment he joined the rest of the command group in their tent. He had been in the saddle since early last night, and he was getting no younger. "After that we were able to talk to a few farmers and get some news from them. Apparently there's been a major battle down south on a ford of the Red Fork. Lord Lannister tried to force his way across and succeeded in smashing the defending houses, but they cost him enough men he was forced to halt his advance north. He's consolidating his position down there. It's odd, at first there were a lot of refugees fleeing before his army, but that seems to have slowed now."

"Where is Tywin's army now?" Ranma asked, looking down at a map of Westeros spread out on a field table. It wasn't a very detailed map, there wasn't a single map for the continent that was, but it would do until he found one that detailed the Riverlands.

"Still on the other side of the Red Fork, sitting right at the ford they tried to use. They've reinforced there, and are apparently waiting for a second army out of the Westerlands. There were also refugees from beyond his line, so it's possible he might have split his army, sending groups out against the Houses on that side of the fork that haven't bent the knee to the kinslayer." That was the epithet used by the army to talk about Joffrey, and there could be no more vile appellation in the Northern lexicon. The fact the Freys seemed to be practicing it these days had spread among the men, and all of them were incensed by it.

"I can't believe that." Rickard scoffed. "Why in the world would they stop if they'd smashed the defenders out of the way! Fairmarket couldn't have been reinforced before they arrived, and no offense to the local knightly houses, but they couldn't have raised enough men to stop Lord Lannister from taking that town. If he had, he could already be marching up to the Twins on the other side of the Green Fork!"

"There have been other battles down by Fairmarket and in Hags Mire, though the farmers we talked to didn't know anything about the why of those let alone the outcome." Brynden said with a shrug. "The farmers were remarkably open about it with Meera and I, our cover worked to perfection." He and Meera had posed as a father and daughter searching for medicine for a sick mother, and the farmers had all been very helpful, insisting that going further south was a bad idea and explaining why when asked.

It amused Brynden somewhat that he hadn't been recognized as himself, despite now being in the Riverlands where he had spent a lot of his life going from place to place. "But the Lords on this side of the Green Fork apparently banded together and moved down to the Ruby Ford, where the Green and Blue Forks meet before entering the Trident. They put up some serious earthworks there, even some siege weapons."

One of his senior men spoke up, a mountain man named Oscar Lebray. "Da farmer I talked ta said the houses might've made a deal with the gold shitters. So long as dey stay on their side of the river, da head gold shitter won't attack 'em, and dey don't need to decide right now ta bend the knee ta his kin-slayin' grandson. Don't know if 'at'll extend to not helping someone else attack them."

Ranma looked down at his map thoughtfully, tugging at his ponytail. "What can you tell me about the houses on this side of the Fort, uncle, Domeric?"

"Not much." Brynden said honestly. "I know several of their heirs were friends with my nephew Edmure, he talked about them often enough in King's Landing. But whether that will mean they'll side with us against the Lannisters I don't know. It will probably depend upon whether or not they have begun to threaten Edmure's life in return for forcing the Riverlands to capitulate. Up to this point all of the Riverlands Houses have been acting singly, defending their lands from what they see as a usurper whose allies are despoiling them. The moment they help us though, they too will be labeled traitors rather than simply angered neutral parties. I don't think any of the current lords of those Houses have the stomach for another war. I know Wayn won't, it's lord is nearly as old as my brother, and his son untried. Nor will Ryger I don't think. They might have patched up their relationship with my house better than most that supported the Targaryens during Robert's Rebellion, but they were still hammered badly in terms of men and riches. But their heir is supposed to be very intelligent, and skilled in many areas, I don't know enough about him."

At that Brynden shot an apologetic glance at Daenerys, who rolled her eyes. "I know precisely how mad my father became later in life, and there is no way to justify his actions, not in the eyes of the law, men or gods, nor were his actions the only infamous ones my family ever did. I won't say I don't have hard feelings about certain events during the War of the Usurper, but I certainly understand the reasoning behind it, and know that a Lord Paramount would be obligated to… to put his own realm in order I suppose. Please continue…" she smirked. "Great-Uncle."

Brynden laughed and even Rickard smiled slightly, pleased that Daenerys didn't seem to be blind to the problems her family had caused. "Well, in any event, the only House that might have the stomach for another war is House Roote. They were awarded quite a bit of House Darry's lands, so might be powerful enough but I don't think they'd have the stomach for offensive action. According to the men we talked to they pulled back out of Harroway town, bringing with them all the town's residents who were willing to leave rather than face the Lannisters there."

Still tugging at his pony tail, Ranma frowned, calculating distances in his mind and trying to imagine, or remember really, what the land had been like around the Trident. While Ranma was doing that Daenerys questioned Brynden further. "You say the farmers said that the Lannisters were consolidating their positions on the other side, and that there were a lot of refugees. Was there any talk about any of the noble houses still holding out?"

"Blackwood." said Brynden and all three of the men he had brought with him to the council. They all looked at one another then the three mountain men nodded at Brynden. "Lord Blackwood pulled back to his keep the moment the battle at the Ford was lost apparently, and had already gathered in his people. They're holding out still, and could continue to do so for a long time."

"How long ago was that battle?" Rickard asked.

"About a month ago, though that isn't solid." Brynden cautioned.

"They control the Kneeling Man's ford then from there down to Darry along with Lord Haraway's town, which means they control the Red Fork portion of the Trident." Ranma mused aloud "but how good is their control of that land?" Ranma leaned back, closing his eyes as he went through some scenarios in his head. After a moment he opened them and nodded decisively. "Alright, here's what we're going to do. First we're going to split the army."

Before anyone could speak he went on. "The larger portion, the heavy infantry, half of the light, half of the archers and two thirds of the heavy cavalry will move down the Kingsroad. We'll also split the scouting forces, a third to go with the larger force, the rest to come with me. Greatjon, you'll be in charge of that along with Brynden. Smash Erenford and Haigh then continue on." He said looking at his friends. "Brynden, you'll be in charge of speaking to the locals, and I expect you and Greatjon to lead the army equally."

Ranma looked at both older men sternly. "I don't want you to start attacking the Lannisters, I want you to reinforce that defensive position and talk to the local lords. Find out where they stand, get as much information about what's been going on down south as you can, and send a messenger to find me when you do find out what the local lords are willing to do. I'll be taking the rest of the army to capture the Twins."

"If you're talking about a siege that'll last months, if not years!" Rickard protested. He was unhappy that he hadn't been given the command of the other Army until Ranma stated his own objectives, which made him even more unhappy but for a different reason entirely.

"Not if we have someone inside." Ranma said smirking. "I don't doubt that Old Walder is arrogant enough to let in a small delegation there to talk about peace terms. I mean to give him one more chance to bend the knee and mean it, or else."

"But that will mean you and however goes with you trapped inside!" Daenerys said leaping to the logical conclusion as to who would be going on such a mission.

" That will set the wolves among the sheep lady." said Jon smirking evilly, now understanding why Ranma hadn't assigned any of the wolfsworn to the army moving down the Kingsroad. "My brother proved as a young boy what he could do in enclosed spaces against normal armsmen and all of us have been trained in that kind of thing."

Ranma nodded grimly. "The wolfsworn will fight our way out of the hall and opened the gates, all of the gates, for the rest of the army. We'll still lose men, that's unavoidable, but this way we'll be able to avoid the horrendous casualties of a full blown assault or spending too much time on the Twins."

"Remember, the moment the Lannister's second echelon reaches him Tywin is going to start north again, and with that large an army even if Fairmarket has been heavily reinforced they won't be able to stop him. I doubt even the earthworks you mentioned could do that. We need to get down there and be in a position where we can react to his moves quickly or better dictate our own and that means taking out the Freys fast and dirty."

There were some objections, Daenerys in particular was very vocal about it being too risky. But Ranma simply kept on referring everyone to what it happened when Bolton head overreached, and eventually that won the day.

OOOOOOO

It took the now much smaller northern force barely two and a half days to march to the Twins, which they timed deliberately to coincide with the dawn. Once they were in sight of their target, Ranma stopped, mentally comparing the castle to what Domeric had described, and found he had nailed it from one end to the other.

The Twins consisted of two seemingly identical stone castles, one standing on one side of the Green Fork and the other on the other side, with heavy barbicans between them connected by a massive stone bridge. They had high walls, about ten stories tall and were each surrounded by a deep moat carved out of the side of the Green Fork. The bridge supports rose from the mighty river far below. In the bridge's center was a tower almost as tall as the two castle's main keeps, called the Water Tower according to Domeric. The only crossing point of the Green Fork until the Trident, the Twin's was a major trading junction, and it had made a lot of money for the Freys, as their family motto attested to.

The army settled in nearby just out of bow-range, not even close enough to have it be called a real siege, while Ranma and the wolfsworn rode forward. Jon was once more carrying a white flag, but it seemed as if their complete destruction of the Frey force they had put out into the field had worked. They were hailed from the wall, but the portcullis was opened for them quickly, and they were met with several people who took their horses away.

A man with a thin, almost rat-like goatee, a weak chin and a pointed nose bowed to them all while the servants led away the horses. "My lords, I am Aenys Frey. Please, permit me to show you to where my lord father is waiting to receive you." He looked askance at the trio of massive direwolves, who were making deep rumbling noises at one another. "Your… beasts will of course be cared for here."

"They will come with us." Ranma said flatly, getting off Fenris' back. "It takes them a while to trust someone enough to be near them."

Aenys frowned, almost sneering before apparently thinking better of it. "In that case my lord, I must ask they be sent back to your army. I cannot allow wild beasts, no matter how well trained, into the presence of my lord father."

Before Ranma could say anything, Jon spoke up. "Well, I've already sent mine back. Besides Ser Aenys is right, the wolves are too wild to be let into a diplomatic function."

Looking around, Ranma very carefully hid a smirk. Ghost was in fact still there, standing silently between Dacey and Roger, but he doubted if even the two of them noticed the beast was there. Ghost lived up to his name, slipping somehow under people's conscious notice, not like Ranma's own Silent Thief technique, but somehow similar. If anything, Ghost's was a little better, since it also muted sound as well.

Outwardly he frowned. "Very well, that's a point Jon. Arya, we'll send them to Rickard." Ranma wasn't about to mention his wife here, none of them could figure out how the Freys would react to that bit of news, and were not willing to tempt it.

Moments later, Fenris and Nymeria were streaking back to the army, and Ranma turned to Aenys. "There, now, show us to Lord Frey. We have much to talk about."

Ranma looked around, frowning slightly. For some reason this place felt odd. The armsmen strutted around the place like they owned it, while the servants scurried everywhere, eyes darting this way and that. As they entered the keep, Ranma kept looking around, his frown deepening. "What is it?" Jon murmured out of the corner of his mouth as the two of them led the wolfsworn down the corridor.

"I don't know." Ranma said honestly, "it's just a feeling I guess."

"This place does, well…" Dacey paused thinking of the correct word. "It feels mean if that makes any sense."

"That's part of it, I suppose. And the fact they don't seem to like to have a lot of light in here, but I haven't seen a single made or out woman at all." Hathan said, looking around. Indeed, the central keep had no murder holes on the first floor, and very few torches to make up for it. Once the door of the keep closed behind them, with an ominously final sort of thump if Ranma was any judge, the darkness of the hall was very apparent.

"If we were besieging the place and had come to talk peace that would've been normal." Edd replied, keeping his voice low. "So either they've heard about… recent events and are just trying to spring a trap, or its normal for the maids to do their best to be invisible."

"Perhaps Black Walder wasn't the only one who took liberties with them." Arya growled, one hand touching Fang's hilt, her eyes glinting dangerously.

"Easy little sister." Ranma's voice barely carried to her let alone anyone who might be trying to listen in as they continued down the corridor after Aenys. "I've a feeling we'll be getting some answers on that score soon enough."

The group ascended a flight of stairs, noticing all the while how dark and forbidding the keep seemed to be at present. With every step Ranma became more certain that this darkness was simply the way the castle was kept normally rather than for their benefit. Even at places where there were murder holes letting in light the light didn't lighten the atmosphere.

Several moments more of walking down another corridor found them in front of two large oaken doors. Aenys pushed them open, bowing the northerners in. It seems to be the dining hall of the castle which doubled as the lord's receiving hall, much like the one in Winterfell. On either side wall were large tapestries, which covered both walls from one end of the room to the other. Most of the tables had been removed except for one which had been pushed into the center of the hall directly in front of the large black oaken chair in which old Walder sat. On the tables was a small plate of bread and dipping sauce, with two bottle of wine.

Walder looked ancient and brittle as he sat on a chair that was much larger than his shrunken frame. He was also bald and toothless and his skin looked as white as parchment and just as fragile. He wore expensive looking silks and there was a small circlet of gold on his forehead. It was almost but not quite like a crown, which told you a lot about the man by itself, let alone everything else that Ranma had learned about his family.

On either side of the man were armed and armored knights, their greatswords grounded in front of them, but their helmets off. There seemed to only be Old Walder, his two guards and Aenys in the room, but Ranma wasn't about to believe that. Nonetheless he led the wolfsworn through the hall, marching along the long dining tables length until they all stood to one side of it right in front of Old Walder. "Lord Frey." he said nodding his head slightly.

"So the Young Wolf has come south with the rest of his northern friends and an army behind them to save his grandfather's realm from the war that his own father began. How sweet, house silly and naïve. I note it is a much smaller army than I would have thought even the North could muster." The old man said condescendingly, his voice thin but sharp. "Did you somehow lose the rest of it? And where exactly is my great-grandson, oh and his father I suppose, fat fool that he is. But where are my manners, please eat, drink, we have much to talk about."

Ghost had taken one sniff of the food by the table and shook his head, before gliding around the table, unnoticed somehow by any there. Jon turned, as if looking at an image on the tapestry, subtly shaking his head at the others, who obeyed, none of them reaching for the food on the table.

" The rest of my army is none of your concern, nor will I break bread with you just yet." Ranma reposted coldly. "What is, is that I speak with my grandfather's voice. I am his deputy, to act as I see fit to get his heir, my uncle back and protect his kingdom. Your son Black Walder said you wanted to speak to us, here I am. Now will you bend the knee, and join with us, or not?" Even as he asked that his eyes were scanning the hall, the rest of the wolfsworn ready for action despite their easy nature. "As to Black Walder, where is your other son Stevron? As I understood it, he was an honorable man."

"Honor!" The old man spat as if it was a curse. "The only honor that matters boy, is the duty to family, that and the ambition needed to grasp every advantage you can to make your family more powerful. Stevron never understood that, believing too much in honor and oaths rather than blood and power! He never understood that an oath of fealty was never worth anything unless the one given it could enforce his words, and it has been some time since Hoster could do that."

"So you say you want me to bend the knee, you give me hard words and demands, calling on my honor! Well, the Lannisters have offered me the Lord Paramount seat of all the Riverlands. Can you offer anything even remotely like that? Of course that is a mere promise for the future, not a solid gain. I understand you're unmarried so far. I have many a beautiful daughter, and the marriage would be something far more solid than a promise from the Lannisters."

"I'm already married." Ranma said smiling grimly, delighting in the slightly widened eyes of all four Frey men. "And even if I wasn't I would not marry a Frey. You're grasping too much Old Walder, too ambitious and too unscrupulous. I would never help your family along in its ambitions, or pair my own with yours. I say again, will you bend the knee to your lawful Lord Paramount's orders and follow me?"

"I think not." The old man said setting his cup of wine down sharply, banging it on the armrest of his chair twice. To both sides of the hallway the tapestries came down, revealing small alcoves there with archers pointing their bows at the wolfsworn. No, I think that the Lannisters will truly make good their promise if I can hand them your head, boy. Did you honestly think I wouldn't know what had happened between your army and my grandson's? How arrogant of you, and to think you could come here and make demands on my honor? Hah!"

Actually Old Walder had never intended to parley fairly with the men who had smashed his field force and killed his son and grandson. Oh, if the North had offered something substantial he would have overlooked it, Black Walder and his father were not his favorites among his brood, for different reasons admittedly, and the men with them weren't family so mattered nothing to him. He had even baited the trap further, making it seem as if he hadn't heard from a few survivors of the battle what had occurred by not moving himself to the castle on the other side of the Green Fork.

Ranma raised an eyebrow his hands not anywhere near Ice where it was strapped on his back, one hand simply resting at the edge of the long table, as if he entirely at ease. "We came here under token of parley." he said simply. "Breaking that is almost as bad as breaking guest right, you would be denounced by any right thinking soul for this."

"Again just words boy, I told you the only honor that matters is that to the family. Everything else is but a tool. You offered me nothing but hard edged commands, you thought honor would be enough!" Old Walder spat the word again. "Whereas the Lannisters offered me a seat of power and gold for your head. No choice there for 'any right thinking soul'."

"I suppose from your perspective that might be right, but you know what, there's something about me you seem to have forgotten. Now!" he shouted suddenly, lifting up the giant oaken table with one hand before hurling it at the archers on the far side of the table. Ghost, who had been already waiting by the nearer wall, leaped on the archers on that side of the room. Jon, Dacey and Arya charged after him, dodging arrows or blocking with their shields, moving faster than any man there could believe, cutting the men down. Eddy and Hathan sprinted over to the men who had been smashed to the ground by the table, finishing them off quickly.

The two guards had already pulled up their greatswords to the guard position when the tapestries fell, but it didn't really help them. Roger and Smalljon barreled forward into them. Roger's axe came up in a wicked arc, blocking his opponent's blade and smashing it up and away from his body, opening the man up for Roger's next blow, which crunched into his side, cutting through his armor and side with equal ease.

Smalljon locked blades with his opponent, pushing back at the other man's two handed grip with his own, slightly shorter blade held in one hand. Then he reached forward, grabbing the other man's neck right above his gorget and ripping it out with fingers of iron. The man collapsed, dropping his blade as both hands went to his neck, vainly trying to stop his life's blood from escaping.

One hand negligently holding Aenys still where the man had tried to bolt for the door, Ranma kept his eyes locked on Old Walder's throughout the carnage. When it was over for the moment, he leaned forward. "You seem to think I'm an idiot old man. I knew I couldn't trust you, by the old gods even though I wanted to give you one last chance, I knew you wouldn't go for it, in fact I counted on it. All you did trying to set this ambush rather than fight my army on your walls is let the wolf into the sheep's pen. I tore apart the Mountain that Rode old fool, and I'll do the same to the Twins."

"You'll never get out of here alive! I have over a thousand men here!" Old Walder blustered, but his eyes showed how terrified he was right now. "Even if you use me as a hostage, there are enough children and grandchildren of mine who would like to see me dead that won't work!"

Ranma shrugged. "That's nice, but I never wanted you as a hostage. As for the number of men you have, well I didn't have anything better to do today. You should have listened to that blasted wolves of winter song old man, this won't be the first castle I've fought my way out of."

At that point Jon and Ghost moved over to join Ranma. Jon whispered into Ranma's ear a moment, causing him to nod. "Is that the only entrance into this room?" he asked Old Walder.

The old man didn't answer, and Ranma reached forward, grabbing Walder's, palsied arm and placing his thumb over the veins on his inner arm. "I'm going to ask you again, is that the only door into this room?"

Outside the alarm had already begun to spread, apparently the guards outside the door had enough sense to spread the word rather than just charge in. The rest of the wolfsworn moved over to take position by the doorway, waiting grimly.

The old man didn't say anything, but his pulse gave him away. "Search for some kind of hidden passage!" Ranma shouted to the others.

It was Arya and Ghost who found the hidden door, much like it had been Ghost that gave Jon the idea there might be one in the first place. Arya followed Ghost who seemed to be trying to figure out where the slight breath of air was coming from, pulling at the sconces of the torches as she went, figuring those were the most obvious place to put a secret lever.

Turned out she was right, and the two of them had gotten to the far right-hand corner when the sconce pulled forward out of the wall. The wall directly to its left began to move slightly, opening just wide enough for a man to enter. "Found it." she said shaking her head.

Ranma frowned, thinking then shrugged and was about to issue orders but at that moment the door to the dining hall burst open. Dozen or armsmen charged through only to be met by the wolfsworn. The first to meet them was Edd. His spear with its heavy, leaf shaped head took the first man in the gut before he pulled it out quickly twirling it around like a staff, blocking two swords and then smashing one man off his feet with the end before turning quickly and chopping another man's leg off with the side of his spearhead just below the knee.

To his side Daryn danced forward, dueling with five men at once with his longsword. His shield flicked out smashing into one trooper's shield throwing him into one of his fellows disrupting that man's footing just enough for Daryn's sword to take him in the throat. He pulled back quickly, ducked under another blow from a man wielding a flail of all things, running him through. He then smashed the side of his shield into another man's face cutting it open before the man could bring his own sword to bear.

Dacey, Smalljon and Roger went about their work with brisk efficiency, protecting their friend's back and killing ten men in the next few moments with an ease that was frightening. Ranma, his siblings and Ghost didn't even have time to join their friends at the door that first group of men were down, or running away in terror.

Ranma smirked looking back at Old Walder, who looked almost ready to pass himself in fear after seeing that display. "Smalljon, grab this old sack of shit. I don't want him to die, not yet, he needs to stand trial for breaking his oath to my grandfather, as well as anything else we decide to stick on, including breaking right of parley." Ignoring Smalljon's only half humorous mutter of 'why do I have to be the one to carry people, get someone else to do it' Ranma addressed the rest of his friends. "Follow me. We make for the Gates, we open the portcullis and the rest of the army should be ready to move again."

With that Ranma led the rest of them out into the corridor, Hathan beside him. At every turn of the corridor, at every doorway in the corridor they faced opposition small and large. Most of this came in the form of armsmen, but one or two servants also attacked them, though why was in question.

They all fell regardless. It was simple butchery for the most part. Imagine Special Forces taking on a group of high school bullies and it would be close. Like Arya had said, the Frey men had never been a part of an actual war before, or even skirmishes with bandits. They were well equipped, but most of the knights and armsmen hadn't even been to tourneys. The wolfsworn went through them like a hot knife through butter.

The only serious threat came when one of the Freys organized a defense at the far end of the first floor corridor consisting of several dozen archers behind a shield wall of four knights. The archers were already aiming at them as the wolfsworn bulled their way down the last staircase, several more defenders retreating in front of them.

While Hathan and Roger cleared out the last of the group they had been fighting Ranma bounded over their heads, clanking off the corridor's roof, landing on the other side. He was immediately taken under fire, but he smacked the arrows away, his hand toughened by his armor strengthening technique for a moment as he bounded forward. The men frantically tried to fire again, getting off one or two shots each. Most of those shots went wide, the men not taking the time to actually aim before Ranma was on them.

Ice sliced through one shield into the knight's body as Ranma landed, his weight crashing down on one of the archers. Ice then skewered another archer, splashing his fellows with his blood as Ranma kicked out, sending two men to the floor. The archers try to run for it, but couldn't get away from him and he cut them all down, along with the knights who had been supposed to protect them. This seemed to buy them some time, since no further attack appeared yet.

Eddy joined him, resting on his spear for a moment. "You now we'll have to open the other keep as well right? If not, the ones in there can hold out against us, and that Water Tower on the bridge is also going to cause issues."

"I know." Ranma said grimly. "That was what made the Twins such a fantastic defensive position, almost as good as Riverrun. It was two castles in one, with each castle being on a different side of a massive river that didn't have any nearby ways across. You could only get at one after taking the other then moving across the bridge where you would be under fire for the majority of your assault.

He looked over at the others, smiling as he saw Smalljon carrying Old Walder along under one arm like a sack of potatoes, old man's finery now splashed with the blood of the men he had thought could protect him. Taking a quick glance around, Ranma nodded. All of the wolfsworn were dinged up a little, cuts and bruises here and there, but nothing serious, not yet. And his endurance training was definitely paying off for them all, since none of them, even Arya, looked winded just yet.

Nodding he came to a decision. "Arya, Roger, Jon, take the gate and open it for the rest of the army. Smalljon you know what you need to do."

"I know and I'm not happy about it." Smalljon growled. "At least this one out will make a good shield against arrows as I run away though." He said shaking Old Walder in his grip.

"You're dead, you're all dead! Do you hear me!" Old Walder yelled. "You'll never get out of the Twins alive!"

Arya laughed coldly. "You haven't yet come up with anything that can stop us old fool, I wonder how many of your sons are going to die because of your lack of honor before the end of the day."

That was harsh but true Ranma reflected while Jon led his group off. Normally Ranma would have felt sympathy for a father who would be forced to outlive his son, but it had been obvious by the way he talked about as Stevron's death that he didn't really care about them as individuals, merely as pawns to enhance his house's power. "The rest of us." he said aloud turning to his own now much smaller team. "Are going to take out that tower, and open the other keep. We race straight across, don't stop, if we stop they'll simply pepper us full of arrows."

"What about the tower?" Dacey asked. "Are we going to leave that in our rear? I have to tell you, you may be able to dodge arrows, but the rest of us can't."

"I have plans for that. Wait for me to cross, then follow me." Ranma said smirking a little and flexing his fingers. Thank you Ryoga, all those times you use that damned move on me allowed me to learn it. Now I'm going to put it to a hell of a lot better use than you ever did pig-boy.

For a time they followed the other group, not running into much more combat since Jon and his band had taken out most of the defenders in their way already. After clearing a group of twenty men formed up by the doorway the two groups finally split. Ranma's broke off as they got out into the courtyard of the castle, racing to one side where the bridge arced out of the courtyard, defended on this side by a gatehouse, though the gate on this side had yet to be closed. Hathan and Dacey paused a moment in the gatehouse to make certain it wouldn't be closed in the future, while Ranma raced out onto the bridge.

Immediately he came under fire both from the walls of the castle above him and the Water Tower in the center of the expanse. Running forward he soon was close enough for the men manning the walls of the second castle to fire on him as well. Both groups however seemed slightly undermanned in comparison to the fire from the castle on the eastern side of the Green Fork. Apparently Old Walder had anticipated some trouble from the rest of the army after taking Ranma out of the equation.

Ranma dodged or ignored the arrows coming his way, racing across the bridge. He passed by the tower's right side, touching it with a gentle finger and intoned under his breath "Bakusai Tenketsu!" Suddenly the exterior of the tower where he touched it exploded inwards, the stone shattering for several feet in either direction as if it had been smashed by a large trebuchet shot.

Shouts and cries of dismay echoed throughout the tower and the arrows from the tower stopped, but Ranma went on with his grim business, shaking slightly. Funneling his ki into the rock to shatter it had taken almost as much out of him as firing a Moko Takabashi did in this world. I wonder why I can armor weapons and myself in ki, but can't press it into stone or extend it far from my body here? Something to think about another day. Ranma moved on touching the tower's outer wall several more times destroying that entire side of the tower.

Without that structural support the other three sides of the tower could into sustaining its weight, and it began to list badly. That worsened dramatically as Ranma went on, now only taking fire from the second castle, the Water Tower's wall blocking him from fire from the eastern side's castle. He grimly finished destroying another few segments of the towers wall, then watched as it began to collapse, falling to one side and over the edge of the bridge. At the impact with the rest of the bridge the tower's top began to crumble, taking many of the men with it into the depths of the mighty Green Fork far below.

Ranma jumped up over the small amount of rubble left from the tower's base, hiding there for a moment as he rested, almost utterly exhausted for a moment before standing up again. This battle wasn't over just yet. He saw his friends racing toward him, now holding a large segment of the oaken door that had fronted the bridges exit on that side of the Twins.

Arrows flew, but with Hathan and Dacey carrying the oak door, all four of them were able to get across the bridge safely, with only Roger taking an arrow to the side. His plate armor however defeated it, the range not low enough for the less powerful bow used here in the Riverlands to punch through.

Ranma joined them, taking cover behind the door and moving with them across the second half of the bridge. When they arrived at the portcullis on the other side, he raised Ice, its Valyrian steel gleaming with blue gold fire. "RAAH!" With a tinging sound the metal of the portcullis was sundered, and Hathan and Eddy reached forward, pushing it aside, while Ranma raced on, cutting through the interior door with as much ease.

It fell inwards, and Ranma lead the rest of the wolfsworn in roaring. "Winter is coming, traitors!"

OOOOOOO

Daenerys and Rickard were waiting with the rest of the Army. Ostensibly Daenerys was in charge, but she had learned over the past few weeks that her position at this point relied heavily on Ranma most particularly where it came to commanding the troops. It was not something that she particularly liked, but she was willing to put up with it for now. It did after all come with quite a few advantages… Despite the seriousness of the moment that thought nearly caused her to smile, but she didn't allow it just yet.

She heard a deep, basso rumble to her left. Looking to that side she saw Fenris and Nymeria stand up from where they had been lying to either side of her little ones. She took a moment just then to muse on the odd way the dragons and direwolves got on so well. Fenris she could understand, he had been around them since they hatched, and seemed to enjoy the big brother position just as much as Ranma did. Ghost, Summer and Nymeria though, their reactions were harder to explain. She discounted Shaggydog, since that one was decidedly unfriendly to anyone not of Stark or pack blood.

It was actually very simple, though it was based off how animals naturally thought in the wild merged with how the direwolves and draklings had been changed by their bonds to her and the Starks. In the wild, normal wolves and bears could coexist on the same hunting ground, not really competing for food or dens. Of course, direwolves did compete with bears all of the direwolves thought bears were delicious eating, and it would never do for another animal to think it was king of the forests. That was the reason why they were all willing to at least be neutral to the dragons. Dragons in the wild would not care about territory, and would not naturally feed on wolves unless there was no easier game.

This was combined with the fact that Daenerys was mate of the pack alpha Ranma and therefore pack herself. And since she, Ranma and Fenris all treated the draklings as pack, they were pack. Very odd pack-mates who preferred to fly rather than run, but that was okay. At least neither of them had the temper Shaggydog had somehow developed, and were well aware of pack hierarchy.

Daenerys laid a gentle hand on Fenris' neck. "What is it, Fenris?" The direwolf turned to her growling low under his throat and looking back at the Twins. Nymeria almost knocked Daenerys over, as she moved around the rousing draklings, rumbling slightly in her throat before turning back to look at the Twins. Daenerys rubbed her neck gently, while looking speculatively at the Twins, before looked at Rickard. "I think Lord Karstark you should start getting the men ready. Judging by Fenris and Nymeria reaction, what little chance of diplomacy winning out has failed."

Rickard scowled slightly at the Targaryen girl giving him an order directly like that, but couldn't fault her tone or words. And the direwolves did seem to be agitated… their connection to the Starks wasn't something Rickard looked too deeply into, but he knew it was there. So instead he simply nodded brusquely before moving off to do that very thing.

A tense hour followed then the noise of battle began to sound out into the morning air. The sound of shouting and alarms could barely be heard from here, but it was evident that Ranma and the rest of the wolfsworn were doing their bit. Daenerys stared at the castle, her eyes searching, then smiled grimly when the portcullis of the castle opened. She turned to Fenris, only to find him and Nymeria gone. She looked back at the castle and saw the two of them streaking along the ground faster than any natural wolf could move, with Fenris in the lead, his fur glowing slightly in the sun.

A moment later Smalljon raced out, some kind of bundle on his back. Rickard looked at Daenerys but she held up a hand, telling him to wait. Instead she turned to where her two draklings sat on the ground nearby hidden from sight by the same tent that obscured most of her own position. With a mental command she sent Sunfyre into the air, and he flew over the retreating a Smalljon.

Shouts of shock and fear went up from the walls of the Twins as they saw the dragon in the air, and more than a few archers tried to fire on it. But at the height he was flying Sunfyre could see their arrows coming and dodged them easily. He was also within range to hear what the old man-thing on the large bearded man-thing was shouting. Daenerys, riding his mind heard them too, and it was all she could do to stifle another giggle as Old Walder Frey kept on shouting. "Don't fire, don't fire!"

"Smalljon is coming back to us with a prisoner, I think we can take it as a given that you should begin your attack Lord Karstark." Daenerys said formally, while her other hand motioned to Rhaegon to join his brother in the air. Controlling both of them was somewhat difficult, but she had gotten used to it over the past few months.

The dragons flew in, staying well outside accurate bow range, flying easily away from the few scorpion bolts that came from the towers towards them, then breathed out there fire down at the defenders. The fire was more like a ball than a sheet of flame however. In point of fact they couldn't fly close enough to get any of the defenders without coming into effective bow range, but that was all right. They were mere distractions at the moment.

The real attack thundered forward on the hooves of the northern light cavalry, led by heavy cavalry men of house Manderly and Karstark and followed quickly by the rest of the Army that Ranma had led to Twins shouting the "North, the North, the King in the North!"

OOOOOOO

Ranma and his group had barreled forward into the western castle, facing somewhat tougher opposition here since the men were fully prepared. But there weren't many of them, so while it slowed the wolfsworn down somewhat, they were still making good progress.

Hathan, Daryn and Dacey guarded Ranma and Eddy's back as the two of them lead the assault, breaking through every defense they faced. Edd's eyes were wild, almost bloodshot as he charged on roaring incoherently. Edd had several new bruises, even an arrow in the meat of his side but he just kept moving, his spear flickering out with speed and power. Looking at him Ranma decided that the ice giant's club had knocked something loose in his friend. Where before he fought similarly to Daryn, with finesse and a slight bit of flair, now he fought like a berserker.

Soon they had cleared the entire barbican, then broke out onto the walls. The archers on them quickly retreated back into the towers behind them, and the way was clear. Across the bridge they could see the rest of the army had stormed into the castle on that side. The light cavalry continued on the moment they saw the portcullis to the bridge open on this side. After them came the infantry and archers, who fought their way up onto the walls and from there into the interior of the keeps.

"I want no wholesale butchery!" Ranma shouted continuously as he moved to join the men assaulting the second keep, whose door was still closed.

The men who heard him nodded in acknowledgement, but kept their shields up. They were still taking arrows from the keep after all. This fire soon faded when another force of archers had taken a position on the walls. They slowly began to overwhelm the defenders fire from that equal vantage point.

Ranma took up position at the head of the assault, still shouting orders. "No rape! No butchery! If anyone kills a servant save in self-defense or molests a servant or Frey girl, I will gut that man and string up their entrails up for the entire army to see! Understood?"

They'll shouted back at that the understood, and Ranma turned, raising a fist and slamming it down onto the keep's door shattering it with a single blow before reaching back over his shoulder to pull Ice out of its sheath once more. Around him his friends pushed their way into the fore, and followed him in, joining him in the shout: "Winter is coming!"

With the courtyard under their control, the attackers now were clearing out the keeps on both side of the river. Jon and Rickard led the assault on one side, with Daenerys staying back in the camp with her dragons, now unneeded as decoys, and a few others.

On the fifth floor of the western keep Ranma rested for a moment against a wall, now really feeling the effects of using the Bakusai Tenketsu. In that moment of silence he could tell the battle was starting to die down. However he soon was called up to the front by Dacey's voice. "Um, Ranma, we have a bit of a situation here!"

Ranma groaned, but pushed off the wall and moved to join her. He found her standing in front of a door, motioning most of the other men with them at that point on. Some of them went reluctantly, a few men even looking as if they were about to attack Dacey, but Ranma's appearance made them turn away. Seeing that odd reaction Ranma had an idea of what they had found but asked anyway.

"I can hear children and women's voices in here." Dacey confirmed, her eyes locked on a few of the men who were moving past them. "What should we do?"

"Let's find out if this is the entirety of the children and women in the castle first." Ranma boldly broke open the door and moved inside then his hand flashed out to knee level to grab a sword aimed at his knee by a young boy of about twelve or so. He pulled it out of the boy's startled grip easily, holding it by the blade between thumb and forefinger. "Oh no, it's a midget with a sword, or no sword now. So, what're you going to do now kid?"

The boy got over his shock quickly. He tried to kick Ranma's leg, only to hop around in agony after his toes met Ranma's calf. "Yeah, you're not the first person to make that mistake."

Ranma watched him hop around a moment, looking around the room. There were about fifteen kids of various ages, most of them boys, with six young girls all seemingly younger than eleven or so. All of them were looking fearful when he entered, but seeing him not strike out at the boy with the sword they were beginning to calm down.

He went down on one knee in front of the boy, looking at him, smiling slightly. "So, what's your name midget, or should I just call ya 'Hoppy'?"

The youngster glared at him, but answered readily. "I'm Luke Frey, and I won't let you hurt any of my younger sisters or brothers!"

"Good attitude there Luke, but I think you need some instruction on how to use a sword first. Tell you what, why don't I leave Dacey here, she'll help you guard your siblings okay?"

"She?" Luke asked, turning to stare up at Dacey, who smirked down at him. "But, but women can't be warriors, they aren't strong enough."

Dacey smiled tapping the tabard she was wearing. "I'm from House Mormont lad. The women of my house have all been trained as warriors for generations."

Some of the boys and girls now crept closer, apparently made courageous by hearing a woman's voice despite Dacey's armored body and the blood splattered on her. Indeed, both she and Ranma were covered in gore but the children didn't seem to realize what they were seeing.

One of the girls, a pretty nine year old girl who wore a dress that looked more in keeping with a much older girl of Alayaya's former profession came forward. "Please sir, um… ma'am? Um, could you tell us what's going on?"

Ranma tugged at his ponytail for a moment, thinking how to explain this, then spoke. "Well, my name is Ranma Stark, my grandfather is Lord Hoster Tully, do any of you know who that is?" The older children all nodded, and Ranma nodded back. "My grandfather is in trouble, some bad golden haired people, the Lannisters are attacking the Riverlands, but he's so old he can't lead his men against them, so he sent for me."

To his surprise Luke spoke up then, his eyes and face much more serious than they had been when he had been looking at Dacey. "I heard something about that, great uncle Stev and Oly were arguing with some of our other uncles and grandfathers about it…" His face clouded over. "After that, I went to see if Oly would continue to train me, but I was told he was gone, and not to ask more."

Ranma nodded seriously, reaching forward to ruffle Luke's hair, and decided to tell them flat out, in terms they would understand, but he wasn't going to lie to them or try to come up with a fairy tale to tell them. "Well I came here to talk to your family and get its help when I march further south, but… your family should have been loyal to my grandfather, but Old Walder and most of the rest of your family were poisoned by their own ambition, because the Lannisters promised them a lot or gold and other things for their support. Black Walder…"

He stopped as the girl flinched, as did a few others of similar age. Right then if he could he would have resurrected Black just to kill him again with a rusty knife. "He admitted that Stevron was killed for saying House Frey shouldn't back the Lannisters. There might have been others similarly removed as well, and I'd guess this Oly would have been one of them. He and his men tried to attack me and my men, but we beat them back, and Black Walder is dead, along with his father."

Not a single child in that room looked anything but relieved at that, and Ranma found himself once again contemplating necromancy and various methods of slow, painful death. "Because of that and other crimes, when your great grandfather tried to capture me and my friends after letting us in under flag of parley, I was forced to attack them."

The boy closed his eyes tightly, fighting back tears for a moment, while a few of the other children began to cry quietly. Ranma rubbed Luke's head again, then gently handed the boy back his blade, a short sword of excellent quality, whose edge was equally good.

The boy looked down at the sword in his hand in shock then at Ranma, who still was down on one knee in front of him. After a moment he asked. "Please, sir, what's going to happen to us?"

"I won't lie to you Luke, I came here fully intention to punish your family if Old Walder didn't agree to follow me, and that was only made more certain when we were attacked under flag of parley. The Twins are going to be destroyed, and your family name erased." He went on hurriedly as Luke and the girl looked horrified. "But that doesn't mean anything will happen to you or the rest of the kids. In fact, you all might have the chance to earn your own names in time."

That won Ranma some odd looks, but he went on, his voice deliberately upbeat. "After all, you can't be held accountable for the old guy's actions can you? And I bet some of you have thought about being, oh, a sailor or a blacksmith or a dressmaker?"

At that some of the younger kids to clamor, all of them shouting out what they had wished to be at one point or another. One girl even proudly stated that she wanted to be a painter, and boldly pushed her way forward to take Ranma's arm and lead him over to where she had some paint supplies. She had painted a pretty darn good tree, thought the Forest Folk in its branches were obviously her imagination at work.

After Ranma exclaimed over her talent, telling her she could surely get an apprenticeship with an artist somewhere, Ranma turned back to Luke. "That is for the future. For now though, can I trust you to keep your siblings safe, Luke?"

Luke nodded firmly. "Yes sir."

"Good, but I'll still leave Dacey here to help you. If any of you are hungry or anything tell Dacey, and she'll send a runner for some food for you." With that, and a final ruffle of Luke's hair, Ranma nodded to a faintly smirking Dacey and left the room.

As soon as he was out in the corridor, Ranma shook his head. "What a fucked up situation this is."

OOOOOOO

The sun was high in the sky as smoke rose from the Twins. Ranma and Daenerys stood in the courtyard of the eastern castle with a few of his friends. Lord Rickard, Domeric and Jon were absent, seeing to the counting and distribution of the treasury of the Twins. All told, the Freys looked to have kept on hand almost as much money as House Stark did as an emergency fund. Even with the fifteen percent that would be divided out to the men who took part in the battle, it was a huge amount to add to their ready funds.

Ranma's portion as commander would be enough to pay the wages of the troops for a year, or for the entirety of the little project he could envision down the road. That didn't even count the goods, worked items and tapestries, all of which added at least half again to the amount they had in actual coinage.

Right now however neither Ranma nor Daenerys were thinking that far in the future. They had enough problems to deal with right now. "How many?" Ranma asked incredulously staring at Edd.

Edd scowled angrily. "We found something like forty women of various ages, not including the servants. Well I say women, some of them are about twelve or so, and three of those are already pregnant! One of them claimed that she slept with Old Walder recently, and seemed proud of it! Two of them were servants daughters, and couldn't say no when one of the Freys came calling."

Arya turned abruptly. "Excuse me, I'm going to go killed that old sack of shit now, slowly."

Smalljon grabbed her shoulder while Ranma shook his head. "I like the sentiment little sister, but it needs to happen in the proper order. How many of the girls are of marriageable age, real marriageable age I mean?"

"Half or so." Eddie said after a moment's thought. There's several of them that are quite pretty, but a handful have already begun trying to opportune some of the men, it seems a learned move on their part. One or two of them haven't, and they're angry and rather arrogant shouting imprecations at the guards constantly saying we'll pay for this, that their family had friends in high places and in the rest of the Riverlands that will come to avenge this insult, that kind of shit. Roger and Daryn are down there now guarding them. While I trust most of our men, well…"

That was a good move, Ranma reflected. Roger was a married man and knew for certain that his wildling wife would cut off his balls and use them as a purse if he touched another girl, while Daryn had recently married his childhood sweetheart. Moreover, the army had received a raven from House Hornwood at the Moat while Ranma and his siblings had been heading forward to talk to the blockade force, saying that Alys was already pregnant. So they would be able to ignore any offers the Frey girls sent their way.

Ranma ran one hand through his hair, tugging at his ponytail in thought. "Any further trouble with the youngster?"

"No, though its disturbing only four of the women came forward to claim being mother of this or that child, and all of them looked younger than twenty." Eddy shook his head. "The women here, especially those married to Old Walder, die quickly, worn out by childbirth apparently."

"In your opinion," Ranma went on still tugging at his ponytail. "Are those young unmarried girls and married women going to be a problem? And by problem I mean try to rally support from the small folk around here?"

"I don't think we need to worry about the smallfolk my Lord." Alayaya said from where she had set out food for them all on a table brought out of the keep, her face set in grimmer lines than most there had seen it. "I talked to the servants, and… House Frey did not so much rule its servants as prey upon them. Oh there were one or two that didn't but they were a drop against a rain storm, and even that ended with Stevron's death. However, House Frey is connected to several other noble houses and House Charlton on the other side of the river is beholden to them, much like the Knightly Houses you've already dealt with. And the smallfolk elsewhere on their lands might see things differently for a time, until the ones who were employed here begin to spread their stories."

"Thank you Alayaya." Ranma said smiling at her. Even in a simple Castle like this, the former whore's ability to speak to servants in a manner as a friend was much better than Brynden's ability to discover information on his own.

Ranma had already decided that the two of them would split Master of Whispers duties in the future. Brynden would be head of the army's division of that, it being a bit of a specialty of his from his time in the Ninepenny Kings War, and would handle the rural areas and the Lords. Alayaya on the other hand would handle all the cities, villages and towns and the small folk therein. It would take time of course, a lot of it, for the two of them to build up networks equal to that of the current Master of Whispers but Ranma was confident that once piece came they would be able to do it.

"What about the children, how many boys and girls?" Daenerys asked thoughtfully.

"About eleven boys of various ages from three to twelve, and six girls ages four to eleven." Ranma replied from memory. At that moment Cley walked up, looking a little green around the edges. Ranma moved over to him, clasping the youngster to him with one arm. "You alright, Cley?"

"I'll all be fines milo-er, I mean Ranma." The boy stuttered, Ranma having been very clear that despite being his ward he wanted Cley to address him as Ranma rather than Sir or Lord. "I mean it's just, it's just all the bodies, the bits, the blood, and the smell!" His stories never mentioned the smell!

Just thinking about it seemed to cause Cley to go even greener, and Ranma rubbed his back. "I know Cley. Bards tales and all those who think that war is so glorious never really look at the battlefield after a battle. If they did, they'd know the only honor worth anything is surviving, and there's no glory to have."

The boy nodded against his stomach, and Daenerys looked around. "We need to figure out what to do, both with the prisoners and with House Frey as a whole. Talk to the servants again Alayaya. If any can point out specific armsmen or surviving Freys, as the ones to commit specific crimes, ask them to do so and we'll see justice done."

Ranma nodded. "For now, round all the prisoners up, and get them out of the Castle. I want everyone out. Put the armsmen under guard somewhere. Keep Old Walder and the surviving Freys away from their armsmen. Move the kids out of the eastern castle down the road a ways, I bet Dacey and you, Arya, can convince them it's a campout or something for now."

As Eddy and the others left, Ranma turned to Daenerys. "What do you think we should do about the womenfolk? I already know what I want to do about the kids. I hadn't really thought of them, but I refuse to just kill them out of hand! Whatever their father or grandfather or whatever fuck relation they are to Old Walder, the children at least are innocent."

Daenerys nodded, though inwardly she felt that was rather naïve. Children as young as nine could kill after all. But Ranma was also right in that they could not blame the children for the sins of the father brother whatever. "We've already had one talk along such lines. I would not condone such for the children in any event." she said nodding her head. "As for the women, I have an idea there as well, but first we need to speak to them as well as the servants. We need to deal out justice here, not blind reprisals."

Ranma nodded firm agreement of that, and shared his plans for the children and any armsmen found to not be guilty of personal crimes. Eventually the two of them hammered out the details of what they would do, almost merging their plan equally, with Ranma agreeing to Daenerys's proposal about the women, and Daenerys agreeing in turn about the children, while modifying his plans for the armsmen.

OOOOOOO

By the next day, they had gathered enough evidence on the armsmen to split them into two camps. One were innocent of preying on the servants or smallfolk, but still had followed orders from the Freys willingly. This first group was a little over a hundred men. This was about half of the survivors, discounting the women and children.

Ranma and Daenerys stood on the ruins of the Water Tower with Fenris and the draklings on either side of them along with forty men armed and ready for trouble, with nearly two thirds of the archers with Ranma's army on the walls of both castles. The prisoners were led out onto the bridge, though many had to be pushed on when they caught sight of Daenerys. They had heard about the dragons in the sky during the battle, but to see a Targaryen and the dragons up close like this was astonishing.

It was a reaction the two of them had thought long about before deciding to cultivate. The dragons at this moment were not really a threat against a prepared, well-armed enemy, but how many people would realize that? While it was unlikely that the rumors of the dragons would win them any fights, it might make some lords much more uneasy about fighting them in the first place. Daenerys too hoped to connect the rumors of the dragons to her own actions and temperament in people's minds, further distancing herself with her mad father.

Having been coached on the need to be slightly dramatic at this point by Domeric, Ranma let the silence build for a moment after the prisoners were led in front of him. Then he began in a loud, clear voice that carried easily across the entire bridge. "All of you followed your lord into dishonor. That you kept your oaths to him is no mark against you, but you still must be punished for following his unlawful orders. I was named by my grandfather, Lord Tully, as his voice in this current crisis. As such, House Frey should have taken the field with me once I informed them of the true traitors to the crown, that the child that sits on that throne now has not an ounce of Baratheon blood in him."

That caused a round of shock, not that the rumors, and more importantly Lord Stannis' propaganda hadn't reached them, but to hear it so boldly spoken was still a surprise. Some of the more cynical of the prisoners thought that saying such was a ploy, considering the Starks had jumped into bed with the Targaryens, but most took it at face value.

Alayaya and Domeric had both informed Ranma of Stannis' declaration having heard about it from the farmers and then again here in the Twins from the servants, as well as a few other rumors about what was happening further south. The power of rumor was incredible, truly, but Ranma wondered what kind of evidence Stannis had about the incest part.

When Myrcella had heard about that part she had looked sick at the very idea, though they still couldn't say for sure that she wasn't a Baratheon. The Citadel hadn't been able to get back to them about that yet, and of course a raven couldn't find an army, so even if they sent word of it to Greywater Watch, it would take time to get to them.

Not that it mattered to Ranma, not really. He had made certain Merry knew that her parentage didn't matter at all to him. Daenerys said the same thing, though given her family's history it hadn't had the same impact as Ranma's declaration.

For now however Ranma had other things to concentrate on. "Instead of even hearing me out, House Frey's representative and Lord decided to try and play for whatever gain they could, and when I refused to play that game, they threw over their oaths to their lord Paramount in return for future promises of power from the Lannisters. For that House Frey is no more, and we could easily demand the heads of all of you and your fellows."

Daenerys spoke up then as the prisoners began to look at one another fearfully. "However, because those of you before us now have not been named by any of the servants here in the Twins as having preyed upon them as many of the Freys did, you get to live. But you don't get off scot-free."

Pointing towards the western side of the bridge Ranma brought the prisoners attention to a group of three hundred light cavalry led by Daryn Hornwood, along with a few other men who looked remarkably uncomfortable in the saddle. One of them was the smallfolk architect that Bran had recommended to Ranma. He didn't bear a weapon instead he carried a large satchel stuffed full of writing equipment and large sheaths of parchment, all of it covered with designs of what Ranma was thinking of calling the Royal Canal.

"You will serve the realm as workers for five years. You will be fed and clothed and treated honorably in that time while you work on whatever project myself or my representatives give to you. After those five years, you will each be given a hundred silver stags and let on your way. These men will lead you off now to head down to Seagard, where your first project will be organized. But first" he said sternly staring at them all. "You will each give your oath on your own names to only react in self-defense if someone attacks you, and to never bend the knee as armsmen once more to any lord."

He let the prisoners talk about it amongst themselves for a moment before beginning again. "Who will be first?" That process went on for some time but after it was done those men went off in rather high spirits. It wasn't often that armsmen survived the destruction of their Lord's house after all, and it was better than being forced to choose between death or the Night's watch.

The next group was simpler. This was the group of armsmen and Freys that had been accused of rape. Ranma's voice was even more stern and cold as he looked down at this group, nearly seventy armsmen and twelve men of Frey descent. "As armsmen and relatives, you could be excused for following your father or Lord into dishonor, but you all took a step further. Where some of your fellows went along with his orders but did not partake of his depravities, you all did. You each stand accused of rape, abuse of the servants that should've looked to you for protection, along with treason against your Lord Paramount siding with the Lannisters who even now are ravaging the Riverlands in return to seeing your father or your Lord raised to my grandfather's place."

Knowing the penalty for treason several of the prisoners tried to make a break for it at that point, trying to get up from where they had been forced to kneel, but none of them could get away. They were forced to remain there, each man held down by two of his.

At that moment Dacey and Alayaya led the maids and a few or the surviving Frey women, those who had not bought into their place in the Frey's world, who were raped or coerced by their own relations rather than play that game. This was Daenerys' addition to this portion of their day's bloody business, and Ranma, though a little worried about it, couldn't argue against it being a truer example of justice than most.

Each woman moved down the line of prisoners, staring at each man before selecting one man or another each. Many of the men cried out to the women, trying to get them to speak up, yelling at them to save them, but were answered with hard glares and hated looks.

Several women clustered around one of the Frey men, and a silent argument began on, Ranma supposed, who had precedence. Eventually one woman, an older, pregnant woman who looked about five months along won out, and was given a long, extremely sharp dagger. Like the other women, she took up position behind the man she had selected.

Now Daenerys spoke up. "Normally in the North, the man who passes the sentence wields the sword. But in this, we feel that it is true justice to have the victims carry out your sentence. For treason, rape, and abuse of those smallfolk who you should have protected instead, the sentence is death, to be carried out immediately by those you abused."

At her nod the men holding the prisoners pulled their heads back, baring their throats to the women. Ranma had thought that at this point a few of them might have hesitated, after all it was much easier to say you wanted someone dead then staring into his eyes and taking his life yourself. But only one, the youngest girl there, a servant girl barely Merry's age, even hesitated before plunging her blade into her rapist's throat like her fellow victims.

Ranma stared down at the carnage, shaking his head at the bloody business. Daenerys who had watched with pale face but stern eyes, squeezed his hand. "Just remember, more than one Lord would've included the children and the other armsmen in this, and wouldn't have cared about the rape and abuse. This way, the women gain some closure, and justice is served."

"I know, but it doesn't make me feel any better." Daenerys nodded wordless agreement, squeezing Ranma's hand harder.

The children were next, which was much easier. Thanks to Ranma's earlier actions, the boys and girls trusted him so when he told them what was going to happen to them they took it much better than would otherwise have been the case. The boys would serve in the army as gofers until they reached Seagard. Once there, if one of the lords or knights (mostly from the Manderly faction, which made up the larger portion of Ranma's present heavy cavalry) had decided to take them up to be their squires that would happen then. Any boys who weren't thus employed would be handed over to the maester at Seagard who would find them professions where they would take on their masters names for now until they reached sixteen, where they would then be able to choose a new name for themselves.

The Frey name was gone now, the House destroyed, its members scattered and the name itself taken from the survivors of their assault. Though there were still few Freys alive at Casterly Rock and in the Lannister armies, without their house to back them, they would be just another group of swordsmen. Or pensioners, and the Lannisters were not know to be kind to such. The boys and women taken captive here, those who were judged to not be trouble in the future, would be allowed to choose their own names. So long as they never called themselves Freys and never tried to become lords once more, that was enough.

The girls would be handed over to the septas, but would be able to leave that service at any time if they found a profession they enjoyed after finishing their educations to the satisfaction of the septas. The young girl whose painting Ranma had looked at was ecstatic about that bit. Truthfully the girl was so good already at painting that Ranma was going to leave money to pay for her education with Lord Mallister's household. He had no doubt that a few years from now she would become a famous artist.

The only exception to this was one the older pregnant servant woman and her child, a boy of three. They were allowed to go their way with two men of House Manderly guarding them. Her family had a farm within a day's travel, and she would be welcomed back there. Another exception was a young girl and her sister, one of the young girls. the two of them had been sent to serve the Freys in lieu of paying a loan back their family of farmers had accrued since their older brother had taken over the farm. They were sent further North with the severely wounded, those who would not be able to take the field again, and a few crannogmen scouts who had come along to report directly back to Lord Reed. They would be escorted to Greywater Watch, where they would enter Lady Reed's service.

Soon however the kids too were walked over the bridge to join the army's main encampment there.

The next bit Daenerys handled entirely, because Ranma crossed the bridge and began his work on the eastern portion of the Twins. The unmarried and married women who had tried to either by threats or coercion escape the army's custody that they would all be sent further north via the supply depot then up to White Harbor to join the Silent Sisters, which had a sept there. They would be sent with a band of twelve men of House Ryswell, walking wounded who needed the time to heal before rejoining the army later on.

Halfway through that pronouncement there was a tremendous rumble sounded from the inner keep of the western castle. All of the women turned to look as the keep, which could be seen over the outer wall from the bridge, began to crumble down. Cries of dismay and shock rang out from them, but were silenced when Daenerys continued. Those women were soon led off to join their guards on the western side of the Green Fork, finding to their shock that the outer wall too had been demolished, torn apart by something that sliced through the wall low down then let gravity do the rest.

Ranma had used the Kijin Raishin Dan after making certain no one could see him, or, you know, was in range of the blades. The vorpal blades were far more deadly and just a bit easier to use than the Bakusai Tenketsu, but because they were so deadly and couldn't be aimed, they were a weapon of last resort for Ranma. Moreover, Ranma wanted to keep them a secret weapon, since he feared that Viserys and the drakling Daenerys was forced to leave behind would be trouble in the future. If the dragon kept to the sky, the vorpal blades of the Loud Thief were the only techniques Ranma had that he could use against them in this dimension.

Still here they could be used to demolish the Twins entirely. No other family would be able to come in and take it over. The only things left would be the two barbicans on either side of the bridge. Those would be held by a force of archers and infantry left here who would be supplied by House Reed, their leader a Stark man from House Forrester.

Ranma wanted it that way for more reasons than simply setting an example or shattering the Frey's power. No, the Twins had been too distant from the rest of the Riverlands, made too powerful by their tolls. Its placement had allowed the Freys far too much leeway, and he didn't want any other house to think they could try the same thing again. The bridge and the barbicans would be run by his men for now, and the crown in time, with the taxes to use it going directly to the crown. This would be but the first of many such areas which would be called royal reserves in the future.

With that done Ranma walked across the bridge to give the western portion of the Twins the same treatment while Daenerys went on to the more innocent among the women. They would be sent to Barrowton, where they would be given twenty silver stags and housing until they found work. If they could not, they would be remanded to the septas there. This group would be watched just in case, hence their going to Barrowton, Whatever she lacked in other areas, Lady Dustin would be able to keep a firm hand on them.

That left Old Walder, who Ranma would see to personally. The old man, who suffered from gout and other issues due to his old age, had spent a very uncomfortable night in the tent assigned to him. His day however was much worse. It began when he was dragged through the ruins of what had once been his castle. He gaped around at the castle which had been destroyed, crumbling down into itself after Ranma had sliced through its first story. Plus more than a bit of work up top of course, just to make the ruin even more total.

He paled even more seeing the Water Tower down, and the keep on the other side of the Green Fork also having collapsed. He almost looked like he was having a heart attack just then, but he seemingly recovered from that, instead simply gazing around his eyes dead. When he spoke his voice showed his will had broken. "What have you done, wh, what have you all done!"

"What I had to." Ranma said grimly. "The Twins made you strong, the Twins made you think you were untouchable, the Twins are no more. Your name is gone, your castle is gone. Nothing will be left of either of these castles or your house's power base because you decided that your personal ambition was worth more than your family's duty to your Lord Paramount, more than the truth of who the real traitors were, and apparently more than your own word of honor."

Old Walder seemed to shrink into himself even further, but Ranma was not finished. "Walder no name, you stand accused of treachery, of breaking the peace of the realm by joining the traitorous Lannisters, of breaking the sanctity of parley and of inciting kinslaying among your own family. Do you have anything to say before sentence is carried out?"

The old man stared around at everything that he had thought so strong so inviolate, the rubble that Ranma had made of the Twins. Eventually he found his voice once more. "My family has members and men already serving with the Lannister force. They will avenge me, and rebuild our house. Your declaration of annulment of our name will not last longer than your own breathing boy. Do your worst." Even though the words were challenging and even brave, his tone showed how uncertain he was of that, and how fearful he was of death finally claiming him.

Ranma nodded, and said simply. "So be it. As my grandfather's voice I found you guilty, and as the man who gave the sentence, I will wield the sword." He raised Ice and swung it, once.

Old Walder's head bounced away for a moment before Smalljon, with a look of distaste kicked it off the bridge and into the water of the Green Fork far below. The man's body followed it, joining the men who had been executed earlier that day and Ranma at last nodded grimly. "Now that this little sideshow's done, perhaps we can concentrate on Tywin?"

OOOOOOO

At the same time that Ranma and Daenerys were meting out justice, two fleets were coming in sight of the ports they were currently making for. One of them was coming into sight of Planky Town, and the other was sailing into the port of Duskendale. Worse, fleets of black painted longships were also nearing their disparate targets. The game of thrones was about to get two new players, and Stannis would be once more on the move soon.

End chapter

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So, the Freys no longer have a power base, but there are still dozens of them out there, and while essentailly powerless now, they might try to make trouble in the future. Now the riverlands campaign hits full swing, as the war becomes more deadly and convoluted.

For those of you worried about how Daenerys was starting to take center stage away from Ranma or become a Mary Sue, this chapter should have shown you she was still human, and will make mistakes in the future. One in particular will come back to bite them on the ass, HARD. Hope the bit with the Tyrell's talking about thier current course and thier options make sense, after all, if they turned coat too quickly, they would be seen like the Freys in many ways. I also found it odd that Willas, despite being the oldest, was the only Tyrell son to not be seen as a great knight. I hope to prove going forward that great knight doesn't equate to great commander, or vice versa.

Hope you all enjoiyed this blood and violence, and as always please review.