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.

13. Chapter 13

I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Martin. I believe in actual endings and don't believe that assholes/bastards should prosper.

Here is chapter 13, and kudos to everyone who knows where the name of the chapter came from. It works given what Ranma and his army do here. I would like to thank Antony444 for his work as a beta and ASoIaF info. However we seem to be dealing with some format issue, so there might be a few missing spaces here and there. We tried to catch them all, but...

Oh, does anyone know any Tenchi Muyo War on Geminar fanfiction? Preferably some that have a main character whose balls have actually dropped and isn't mentally retarded? Despite having the WORST REDHEADED FEMALE LEAD EVER, of all time, the combat and robots are cool, and a few of the side female characters are fun. Aura in particular, dark elf FTW!

want to give a shout out to MilandaAnza and Rakaan for pointing out mistakes when they read through this chapter!

And now comes the Violence!

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Wild Wolf 13 Deadly With A Blade Is…

For a moment Ranma and the other simply looked at the man then Ranma laughed causing the rest of the wolfsworn to chuckle though Rickard looked a little angry at that as did Daenerys. Seeing this Ranma reached over and took Daenerys' hand. "It's not exactly the most diplomatic way of addressing, but you have to admit he's got a point."

"I am well aware of my family's rocky relationship with the Faith, Ranma." Daenerys replied tartly. "While I believe that people should be free to follow what religion they believe in, I cannot say I'm happy with the fact that in the Faith of the Seven's eyes I am apparently an abomination. So I do not see why we should let a mere septon in to talk to us, especially one who seemingly lacks tact."

In the Faith of the Seven, incest was one of the worst crimes possible. But unlike in the faith of the Old Gods, the Faith of the Seven also loathed the results of incest, calling them abominations. This had made the Faith's relationship with House Targaryen very rocky indeed, considering that incest was not only allowed but almost insisted upon among them especially in the early years, begun when Aegon the Conqueror married not one sister but both of them.

The Faith Militant Uprising, a series of wars spread out over most of Westeros and seven years, was spurred by this and several other factors. They began when Aenys, the son of Aegon the Conqueror, wed his son and heir to his sister. This was just one of many slights Aenys rather foolishly paid to the Faith in his rule. Others were backing the Greyjoy desire to remove the Faith from the Iron Islands, and instead of denouncing his brother Maegor as a heathen when he took a second wife, simply removing him as Hand and banishing him.

Nonetheless, the marriage of his son and daughter was the rather giant oak plank that broke the mule's back. Maegor, Aenys' younger half-brother, put down many of those uprisings in a brutal manner earning the name the Cruel, but the rebellions didn't end until Aenys' son Jaehaerys took the crown and offered an amnesty for anyone who had been part of the rebellion in return for the disbanding of the Faith's militant orders.

Yet even after that, the Targaryens, fearing the diluting of their blood would take away whatever it was that allowed them to control their dragons, continued the policy of intermarriages, which of course the Faith detested, but were no longer strong enough to do anything about. Daenerys, as a daughter of King Aerys and his sister Rhaella, fell under that same stigma.

So Daenerys had every right to be leery of a septon of the Faith. And considering the rumors we've heard, Ranma thought his eyes flicking over to Myrcella, she isn't the only one.

However Myrcella was looking at Daenerys shaking her head. "This is one of those things you don't understand because you come from Essos, Daenerys." She said reaching over and taking Daenerys's other hand. "The faith of the Seven is very important here in Westeros. Well," she flushed a little. "Not so much for the nobles and maybe not in some of the cities like King's Landing, but I know it is important for most of the smallfolk, most of the Knightly Houses, and especially in the Reach."

Patrek Mallister smiled nodding his agreement. "The princess is right, Your Highness, in the big cities the Faith might be seen as corrupt, but out in the fields and villages, it's a very important part of the smallfolk's lives. Births, deaths, marriages, education, healing, even matters of law, or sin rather, all of that is seen to by the septons and septas." His father nodded, as did Hathan, the only Northerner there who followed what the Northerners called the New Gods.

Daenerys shrugged, not really understanding it but when Ranma nodded agreement with the others she at least willing to listen to it. "Very well, I suppose we can see what he wants to say, though if Damon Paege is well enough to take part, could we ask him to join us? He might be able to tell us who this is."

It turned out that Damon was indeed well enough to take part, though not to actually move. Smalljon, with quite a bit of grumbling went with Dacey to get him bringing Damon and a sofa back just for him. However he didn't know who the septon was.

"We have a septa here in the keep, she's quite a pretty girl if a little too quick to feed me concoctions, still very easy on the eyes. But Fairmarket's septon passed away several years ago, and we never received a replacement. There is a wandering septon who stops in occasionally. If it's him, he's a good, firm believer in the Faith, not like the septons in the city are supposed to be like, though his feet are rather scary looking, like, like the feet of a tree almost." Damon said rambling slightly, a sign of the latest concoction that the 'pretty young septa' had given him.

A moment later the septon entered. He was a small thin, grey-haired man. He wore simple woolen robes, which looked rough to the touch, and no shoes on his feet. Like Damon had said they looked so rugged and tough they more closely resembled gnarled roots than normal feet. His eyes were hard, yet they and his mouth, which at the moment was set in a thin line, had smile lines around them interspersed with the grimmer lines and those made simply by his face being too often in the sun.

"Septon Sparrow!" said Damon, smiling brightly, almost pushing himself up off his sofa but Edd reached over and gently pushed him back down.

"Hello, young Damon." said the septon, his mouth curving upwards in a thin smile for a moment. "Do not move on my account my boy, you have obviously taken enough hurts of late. In that vein" the man said, now turning those deep, appraising eyes on Myrcella. "The Mother, the Maiden and the Crone bless you for your work in healing the smallfolk after this battle, my child."

Myrcella blushed scarlet, stammering that she hadn't done anything much to deserve a blessing like that, but Ranma and Daenerys both shook their heads. "You and maester Martyn saved a lot of lives Myrcella. If it wasn't for your organization and for his healing skills, there would be hundreds more dead among the smallfolk especially."

"Indeed, in this you have certainly risen above your abominable origins."

At that Myrcella's blushing stopped with the suddenness of a guillotine and she stared coldly at the septon while nearby Domeric winced. "You speak of the rumors from my uncle Stannis? I will note septon 'Sparrow', that he has not shared any evidence, he has merely shared blandishments!"

"Yet you cannot say that you or either of your siblings have anything of the Baratheon in looks, can you?" The septon said, ignoring for now Ranma's growling anger and Daenerys's violet eyes becoming harder as he almost seemed to interrogate the younger girl.

"That does not equate to any of us being of incestuous origins. And even if my older sibling is not the king's son, that does not mean I or my younger brother are not!"

"So you had already heard about those accusations?" asked Domeric, looking at her askance. "Here I thought I was trying so hard to save your feelings."

"I shared with her that rumor after we broke the Twins, I felt she had a right to know." Ranma said shaking his head. And I wanted her to scream and shout and get her initial response over with just me and Dae around before someone else brought it up, though I never thought a septon would be the one to do so.

Now he spoke up before the rather abrasive old man could go on. "Stannis hasn't shared any proof about the incest accusation. As Merry said we do know that Joffrey isn't Robert son, but I won't tolerate any such accusation against Tommy. He was a nice, humble young boy who should have lived a long and fruitful life."

"As for Myrcella herself, we have asked the maesters who study lineages to send us proof by raven to Seagard about whether the daughters of previous unions between House Baratheon and House Lannister also followed the trend of taking after their father. We have not received any proof yet, so until we do, Myrcella is a trueborn princess of House Baratheon. And you will treat her as such, am I clear?"

There was something very dangerous in Ranma's eyes just then, and almost against his will septon Sparrow found himself nodding. After a moment however, he realized that really he didn't have anything to lose in leaving that subject. Nor was Myrcella really the only issue with hand that he needed to delve into. "I will apologize then, I did not know that you were already looking into the matter, nor did I realize Stannis has yet to share any proof of his accusation of incest." He said calmly, though the words came out as if being drawn out of him, but they seemed sincere enough and Ranma nodded.

He looked at the older man appraisingly, scratching at his chin for a moment while absently noting that he needed to shave again. Everyone else could grow a beard, Ranma hated the damn things, they were itchy and uncomfortable in the extreme, which was possibly a holdout from his first lifetime. "I have had neutral and bad experiences with septons before. The High Septon is as corrupt as they come, and I doubt he believes in anything more than money. Yet on the other hand while I didn't particularly like the woman, Septa Mordane at least believed and followed the tenants of her Faith. At the moment I'm wondering where you fall on that scale. Are you an agent of the High Septon or are you equally corrupt but with your own agenda, one that puts you in Renly or Stannis' camp? Since the incest accusation can only help them, your questioning of Merry wasn't the best first impression either way."

"I am a septon of the Faith," said the Sparrow simply. "At present I am the only septon in this town or anywhere within walking distance and as such I have concerns, questions I need answers to share with both Fairmarket's flock and the rest of the Faithful."

"Septon Sparrow isn't tied to any lord or faction." Said Damon looking at the older man respectfully, his voice somewhat more firm and controlled than it had been. "He travels around, not just the Riverlands but everywhere I've heard. He goes to towns and villages that don't have their own septs and performs ceremonies, weddings and the like."

"I am a servant of the Faith." Said the older man humbly, bowing his head.

Ranma could tell from his attitude and tone that he really believed that, he wasn't trying to put on an air of false modesty, he honestly believed that. After moment of searching the man's face Ranma nodded. "If you wish to sit, sit septon, then ask your questions. So long as you do not share with anyone else my wife's presence or that of her little ones, we will answer them as best we may."

Daenerys nodded agreement, leaning back from where she had been leaning forward her hand still clasped with Ranma's. "Anything we can say to put the smallfolk's minds at ease on our intentions in the future is all to the good, though I will reiterate my husband's statement that your seeming interrogation of Princess Baratheon was ill-done."

The septon nodded, but remained standing. "The North is dominated by a heathen religion even if those who follow the old gods do not differ much from their sense of honor from those of the truth Faith, yet there are distinct differences there. The Targaryen family on the other hand has varied in its relationship with the Faith wildly since its arrival in Westeros. Worse, that family has almost always continued its abominable acts of incest! While you're actions here in Fairmarket have won you much respect, I must know what your intentions are towards the Faith. Will you replace the Faith of the Seven with that of the old gods, or something from Essos?"

"I'm not going to go around converting people by the sword if that's what you're asking." Ranma said, actually laughing at the very idea. "The old Gods religion isn't like that, we don't convert others to our faith, if you believe then that is enough. The old gods want willing believers, not those converted at sword point." Rickard and all the other Northerners nodded firmly.

On the other hand,I'm not even certain if the 'The Seven' really exist, Ranma mused. He wondered if the Faith of the Seven, the organization of the Faith, had replaced the actual faith of the Seven in people's minds so much that the actual god no longer had any power. If the majority of people were like those in King's Landing, simply acting as if they believed only when it suited them, performing the ceremonies and what-all but not really believing like a Northerner did in the old gods, then that might be case. Then there was the fact he hadn't yet seen any evidence of the Seven having power, as he had the old gods. He wasn't about to bring up that idea however.

For her part Daenerys smiled thinly, her words almost echoing Ranma's thoughts. "While I am nominally a follower of the Seven I was raised most of my life in Essos where to put it mildly religion is far more varied than here. I can think of at least fifteen or so religions off hand whose temples I've personally seen. I honestly don't think most people over there worship anything really save for the almighty coin, certainly no one I met was very religious regardless of the religion they followed. I would be willing to learn more about the Faith, I haven't been around a septon since I was… two? at the most. On the other hand, I have seen the strength and power of the old gods, I know they exist, and magic as well. I cannot say the same of the Seven as yet, and I know the Faith doesn't allow for magic to exist."

That shocked septon Sparrow. "Whatever you saw were merely parlor tricks or heathen witchcraft young lady." He said sternly, forgetting Daenerys rank for a moment." The old gods are dead and gone, and magic no longer exist in this world, the Faith has seen to that."

"Say that to the men who died under the Shadow Warriors blades when they attacked our ship from Kings Landing under Stannis' orders!" Ranma growled. "Say that to the undead wights I've seen, say that to the spirit of the woods when you stand in front of a living heart tree! You would sing a different tune then." Around him the rest of the northerners all nodded firm agreement.

Again something in Ranma's eyes caused the oldman to pause and he backed away from that topic. "I see. As I have not seen such proof, I cannot say I would agree with you, but it is obvious that you do believe it, and so I will say no more about it. Your word that you will not make the faith of the Old Gods the religion of the realm removes one worry, though we do have other concerns since neither of you were raised in the Faith, regardless of your being anointed by the seven holy oils at birth Your highness." He said looking at Daenerys.

"And those concerns are?" Daenerys asked.

"Certain laws of the land were based off of the Faith's beliefs, will you change them? This is in fact a major sticking point, because word has reached my ears of a rumor that King Joffrey has changed the law to allow for the royal house to have multiple wives. And then in your own case of course there is the well-known incest of the Targaryen line that must be addressed."

The first part of what he said caught Myrcella's attention, and Daenerys responded quickly. Before Myrcella could even so much as twitch Daenerys' elbow smacked into the side of her head slightly, while the platinum haired woman turned slightly toward her, mouthing 'No'.

Myrcella sighed and shrugged philosophically, as if to say that she really didn't care about the whole marriage thing just the joining bit. But at Daenerys's stern glare she pouted. Exhaustion was making her much more honest than she would normally be about so many people.

Thankfully everyone else was staring at the septon in shock. "What?" Ranma exclaimed, "Why, that's so, so…"

"Blasphemous?" said septon Sparrow helpfully.

"I was going to say idiotic really." Ranma said shaking his head. "Of all the things he should be doing, he concerns himself about that?"

Myrcella yawned, shaking her head as everyone turned to look at her. "I'm sorry I've had a very long day." She said, apologizing before looking over at Ranma. "But I think you're overlooking something. My brother isn't the one in charge in Kings Landing, he's an incompetent you should know that."

"I do, but still, what, you think this was your mother's attempts to distract him or something?"

"No she dotes on him, but that idea would never have occurred to her, though if it was indeed made into law without her knowledge she will run with it." Myrcella replied bluntly. "This was probably Joffrey all the way, but could also become a political move. This way his hand in marriage can be used as a tool multiple times. But I bet he isn't thinking that way, or not really. Joffrey has never been one to give up anything that he really wanted, and this will allow him to both appease mother and get what he really wants: Sansa."

All the Riverlanders and even Septon Sparrow, for all his self-control, quailed as a growl went around the room. "Never!" snarled Ranma his hand crushing the side of the sofa unconsciously in his free hand. "That little shit will never touch my sister, no matter what else happens!"

Around him his two siblings and the rest of the wolfsworn all nodded while the three massive direwolves, picking up on their bonded's moods growled deep in their throats,causing the septon to shudder slightly, wondering how the Starks controlled the massive beasts but deciding not to address it right now. "So you will not do something of that nature?"he asked.

"No!" said Ranma shaking his head emphatically, the word coming out through clenched teeth.

"As for the incest that is so much on your mind septon I can promise you that that will not occur as well." Daenerys said smoothly taking over from Ranma as he looked ready to tear into someone at the very idea that Joffrey still had designs on Sansa. "To put it bluntly, I think that was a mistake all along, and one that I will not continue. I would even be willing to put that into law to appease the Faith if needed, as well as a promise to put into law the idea of freedom of religion, while also repealing that bit of idiocy."

Septon Sparrow stared into the Targaryen girl's purple eyes then slowly nodded. "I will hold you to that as will the Faithful Your Highness." Despite his almost challenging tone however septon Sparrow was cautiously pleased with how this interview had gone. Yes, he wasn't coming away with what he had hoped to come away with, he had failed to talk either of the would-be royals into converting, but placing freedom of belief in the laws of the land was an excellent idea, along with outlawing incest even in the royal family.

"Do you have any other questions or horses to drop on us?" Ranma asked sarcastically crossing his arms and staring at the older man.

"Not a present, though I will ask you what your intentions toward the lands of your enemies are, and more importantly those who work them. Far too often the smallfolk pay for the wars of their nobles."

"Not in this war, not on our side of things at any rate." Ranma said shaking his head, then went on to explain his policy of what they would do with prisoners.

Any smallfolk levy captured would have to work a year on various royal projects before being allowed to return home with room and board paid for throughout that year by the crown,or could go to the Wall and join the Night's Watch. Armsmen, Knights sworn to Houses that fought against Ranma and Daenerys would be forced to work on such projects for five years. Before being offered that choice any enemy that was captured or surrendered would have to first be cleared of further wrongdoing against the men and women of the Riverlands, such as rape, theft or murder of a noncombatant.

Those lords that followed House Lannister unwillingly or under coercion could be allowed to return to their lands after the war was over after paying reparations but they would never be allowed to have more than fifty armsmen to their name after the war. The Westerlands lords would face paying similar restitutions only somewhat less so since they were following their oaths to their Lord Paramount and couldn't be blamed for that.

Any lord from the Riverlands like Lord Bracken or Vypren who joined the Lannisters willingly would have their houses removed from the nobility, their lands seized and themselves executed along with any heir that followed them willingly. Their womenfolk would be dealt with on a case by case basis.

On the other hand Ranma's forces weren't going to go out of their way to capture lords as most armies did for their ransom. Indeed though he wasn't going to mention it now of course, Ranma was going to instigate in-battle assassination of lords in the near future. Since they were often officers as well, the chaos this would generate would make any battle much easier.

The Lannisters however, their fate would be decided after the war. Ranma chanced to look at Myrcella as he said that, though the younger girl did not catch it, having fallen asleep against the side of the sofa. Ranma turned his attention back to Septon Sparrow, smiling faintly. "Does that satisfy you?"

"And the actions of your own Army? What are the fates of those among your own men who prey upon the smallfolk?"

"Castration or death." Ranma said bluntly. "They know that too, I gave a speech about that soon after we started marching from Winterfell. No one's pushed me on it yet, thankfully."

Septon Sparrow actually smiled, his austere face seeming much kinder for a moment. "I could wish most knights felt that way, and most nobles too. I thank you my Lord, my Lady, you have answered all of my questions. With that I will take my leave."

The two royals nodded, dismissing the fellow and was about to turn to the others to say that they should break up for the night when the guard at the door who had just ushered the septon out poked his head back in. "Um, my lords, there's a man here who claims to be an Iron Bank representative. He, um, he wants to talk to you."

Ranma groaned leaning his head back. It had been a long day, and he really would like some sleep. He wasn't exhausted physically, but mentally and emotionally certainly. Towns and villages were not places for battle, and it would be a long time before he stopped remembering some of the sights he had seen today.

"I don't think most of us have anything to say to any Braavosi, let alone one from the Iron Bank." Said Arya, getting up swiftly. She had disliked the talk about the Faith, since she felt the Seven were rather ridiculous, but not nearly as irritating as money matters. She, Nymeria and the rest of the wolfsworn hurried out, not one of them very interested in such matters like that.

Motioning Dacey to wait for a moment, Daenerys gently shook Myrcella awake. The Mormont woman did so, then helped Myrcella to her feet and escorted her out of the room. Ser Barristan stayed, having remained silent throughout the discussion with the septon, moving over to lean against the wall along with Rickard and Lord Mallister.

Seconds later the guard showed in another man. He was an older man, small, and thin looking, with a bald head, and a calm deliberate manner even when simply walking into the room. He was dressed in simple yet well-made clothing, and a heavy Iron and gold torque hung from his neck down his chest. Though stamped from the same cloth he was not the Iron Bank representative that had spoken to Cersei and Joffrey weeks back. In this war-torn time the Iron Bank had seen fit to send several different representatives, along with their bodyguards, to search out the various claimants to the Iron Throne and sound them out on the payment of the debt the Iron Throne had accrued.

"Lord Stark." The man began with a faint nod of the head. "I am a representative of the Iron Bank of Braavos,I am here to ask what you will do in regards the massive debt the Iron Throne has accrued to us in the past few years if you win the throne. Lord Stark, your father, did a magnificent job in trying to offset that debt and set up a payment plan for the debt. We wish to know if you will continue his work if you win the throne and honor that lawful debt."

He smiled thinly. "Needless to say if you did agree to that, certain... aid at present can be yours." He was authorized to make that somewhat open-ended offer because Stark honor was well known to be as firm as granite, and because of the work Eddard had done as Hand before the start of open hostilities.

"No." Ranma said bluntly. "Why should we? It wasn't us who went into debt to you in the first place. We have no connection to either the queen or the former king who did so."

"But it was not the king or the queen who is in debt, it is the throne itself." The iron Bank representative riposted. "If you claim the Iron Throne, then the debt of the Iron Throne is yours."

Daenerys shook her head. "I am afraid Ser, that the Iron Throne is done. It was a magnificent symbol in its time of my family's strength and power, the unification of Westeros into one nation, but it has failed since. The throne is done, and any debt it holds as well. We are starting afresh, building on the old but not a part of it. As such, to talk of us owing money accrued by the Iron Throne is laughable."

"Such an action will set a bad precedent." said the Iron Bank representative, now in a much colder tone of voice. "The Iron Bank is due that money, and we will be paid it, one way or the other."

Ranma laughed. "Really? Would your bank really wish to stick its nose in the mire that is Westeros right now? You'd lose a lot more than you'd gain doing so. And you would be called on it after too. So is the Iron Bank willing to lose Westeros as a place where clients can be found entirely?"

Beside him Daenerys remained silent staring at the other man, wondering what the Iron Bank would do. She knew the Iron Bank was actually much more powerful than any simple bank could be. In many ways it was more powerful than the city it was based in, and it had tendrils everywhere. But I'm not going to bend over backwards to please them either, there is no lawful way the debt Robert Baratheon built up could ever be applied to Ranma or I.

"The Iron Bank will have its due, and will take any action it needs to do so." The man replied grimly. He knew that the bank needed to make certain that people couldn't think they could renege on their debts like that, even if doing so cost more than the debt itself. And he knew that the bank had some connections elsewhere, connections that could give them a force that would be able to survive here in Westeros.

"That's nice." Ranma shrugged. "Then I suggest you talk to the other would-be kings, you won't get any help from us."

"That was a little more blunt than I would have been, Ranma." Daenerys said later that evening as she and Ranma cuddled in bed. She arched her back luxuriating as Ranma ran his hands down her naked back. Neither of them was in the mood to make love after the bloody day's events, but that hadn't stopped them from cuddling for a time. "Yet it seemed to get the message across at least."

"You know the Iron Bank better than I do, Dae." Ranma replied, leaning his head back looking down into her violet eyes. "Are they really going to do anything? Or was that all a bluff?"

Daenerys shook her head,her hair moving almost sensually against Ranma's bare chest. "They'll do something but I don't know what. I think that will depend upon if any of the other 'kings' agree to pay them off in time, which I just can't see unless one of them faces major military defeats and feels the Iron Bank can help them recover. If none of them do agree to pay that debt of theirs, I have no idea at that point."

"That was my thought as well. So, do they have a standing army or anything? And if they find a backer here, what forces could they send?"

"I am uncertain if they have a standing army, though they could certainly purchase enough mercenaries to make one, possibly a sizable one given time. Though most mercenaries would not be up to the standards of most of the Westeros armies, and they wouldn't be very disciplined either, unless they pay for the Golden Company itself. They wouldn't have any trouble transporting an army however, since the Iron Bank owns or has stocks in hundreds of ships. Still, any such move as that is at least half a year down the line."

"Assassins might be more of a threat however. Especially if they are turned down, I could see the Iron Bank buying the services of the Faceless Men to simply wipe out every claimant to the Iron Throne then move in with a puppet who would organize a payment plan."

Ranma frowned thinking about what he knew about the Faceless Men. They were assassins that could apparently go anywhere and slip past the best guards, experts with poison, knife and bow. There were even tales of them changing their appearances well beyond simple disguises too, the better to sneak in and out to claim their target for their Many-Faced-God. And given what all else seems to be happening in the world, I bet those tales have some truth to them these days, he thought grimly.

After a moment he nodded grimly. "They aren't the only ones who might go that route. I'm going to assign Ser Barristan to you permanently, I think he'll do a great job at leading your guards from now on. I certainly don't need a bodyguard, not with Fenris to sniff out any poisons. But from now on, you eat either with me and the direwolves or your dragons present to sniff out anything in your meals if you think your dragons can do that. And I think you should choose a few of the Northerners to guard your dragons when you aren't around them."

"Dragons are nearly un-killable with poisons, still best not to tempt fate and I think they will be able to sniff out dangers, I'm not certain. You realize though that in a couple of months they'll reach an age where they will attack anyone around them not of Targaryen blood?"

"At that point I'll assign Fenris, Nymeria or Ghost to be with them at all times when you can't be." Ranma said with a nod. "Though I haven't noticed that tendency in them yet."

"That's because I've been very careful to not allow any adults near them except those they have been introduced to and seemingly accept." Daenerys replied, her brow furrowed. "They like children for some reason, I get the impression it's simply because they don't smell as much as adults do and can be wheedled into giving them scratches. Well, Sunfyre seems to get along well enough with children Rhaegon on the other hand is much pickier. He is the one I'm most worried about lashing out if he's startled or finds himself around strangers."

"Something to keep in mind." Ranma said with a nod.

"What are our plans going forward?" Daenerys asked.

"I'd like to go see my grandfather, but we can't take the time for that now. We need to bring the army back together, but also need to keep attacking. We've got the momentum now, but the Lannisters have too much defense in depth for us to keep it for long enough to finish them off, unless... Well, I have a plan, or at least the outline of one. All talk to Jon and the others about it in the morning. But we also need to bring the Riverlands houses east of the Green Fork to our side, which means sending you to talk to them. How long do you think it might take you to convince them to stop sitting on the defense and join us?"

Daenerys frowned, almost thinking for a moment that Ranma was simply sending her away but she realized after a moment he had a point. Some of those houses after all had proven more loyal to her house than to their Lord Paramount, so sending her to talk to them would be an excellent step in the right direction. "All right, I can understand that need. I think it should take me… well once I get there two weeks at most to bring them all to our side? But you're not going to tell me anything else just yet?

"Not yet." Ranma said with a sigh. "I need to go over the map first make certain most of its doable, and then…" he shrugged. "The tactics are workable, it's the overall strategy that's the question." He smirked then. "I'll give you a pair of hints though: First, there's an old saying, 'all war is deception'. And the next clue is, 'strategic offense, tactical defense.'"

Daenerys looked at him, her mind almost visibly clicking along behind her violet eyes. Eventually she nodded. "You're going to seemingly give Tywin what he wants, then take it away? Or perhaps dangle bait in front of him then when he tries to grab it hammer him with something he doesn't see coming, to turn one of his strategic assets against him?"

Ranma smiled, hugging her, one hand gently cupping her bare rump. "Yep, that's pretty much it. Lord Lannister thinks his defensive position is unassailable and that his numbers give him a tremendous advantage. We'll see if we can't turn them into weaknesses."

OOOOOOO

A disaster, Margaery thought to herself as she marched into Highgarden's meeting hall, that is what we're dealing with here. The raven-carried message that said Willas had been forced to retreat over the Golden River was one thing. He even sounded somewhat upbeat about it, though Margaery doubted he really was. Still Willas was obviously doing the best he could. But the disaster that had befallen the Shield Islands and the Arbor, that was something else entirely.

It had given her grandmother a heart attack, and it was only because of septa Nysterica being there that she was still alive at all. Her son-in-law Paxter's death and the worry about what about what might be happening on the Arbor to the rest of the Redwyne family, especially her daughter Mina, had broken through Olenna's normally solid as oak self-control. Even now Nysteria and Alerie, Margaery's mother, were seeing to her, leaving Margaery to act as the sole Tyrell in Highgarden, for now at least.

Margaery however was more worried about the Mander and what the Ironborn could do if they began to raid up it. The Shield Islands had so long been the staunch shield they were supposed to be for the Mander that much of the defenses along it had been allowed to fade or fall apart. Ignoring the two men across the meeting hall's table for a moment, she stared down at the map. Only after staring at if for several moments did Margaery look over at the two most senior commanders left in High Garden. "We face a crisis Sers, and I would like to hear some options on how best to mitigate it."

"Reinforce the city defenses as much as we can my lady." The older of the two said, with a shrug. Igon Vyrwel was captain of the guard of the castle of Highgarden, and though not very experienced in warfare, knew the defenses of the castle and its capabilities like the back of his hand.

"I am afraid Ser Igon's right. We don't have enough man power on hand to do more than that, your majesty. Indeed, if we are attacked we might have to pull back from the outer wall entirely and defend only the inner one." Despite her not having married Renly her great-uncle Garth, who served as the seneschal of the castle, was always punctilious about using that royal address for her, no doubt something her father had insisted on.

"But we cannot sit on the defensive either, Sers! The Mander would allow an Ironborn raiding fleet to sail right up to us and besiege the castle." As a castle and a city, Highgarden was susceptible to sieges of that nature just like most other cities. The city resided between the outer and inner walls, with the inner walls defending the castle of House Tyrell. "What is worse Sers, is that sitting on the defensive here will allow the Ironborn to raid along the Mander south of here with impunity!"

After a moment's thought, Igon shrugged. "We could fortify castle Oldflowers, it's right on the river much like Highgarden. And as a Noble House they should have retained at least two hundred or more men at their castle. But that would leave Highgarden undefended."

Margaery took a moment to find that castle on the map then frowned. "So House Oldflowers is the best position? Are you sure? There are numerous villages and settlements further out along the river before that…"

"But no other defensible position, my lady." Igon said sorrowfully. "None of the towns and villages along the river before that have any kind of keep or even a holdfast. Even House Graves' keep is in a worse position, because they didn't leave any men behind. Lord Graves took his entire complement of armsmen, knights and even his two sons to war with Lord Tyrell. Apparently he is hoping to win glory for his house, enough to offset their troubles."

"Can Oldflowers be bypassed by ships on the river?" Margaery asked intently.

Igon and Garth looked at one another, both of them trying to remember what they could of House Oldflowers' seat. Neither could however, until Igon remembered that the master-at-arms of the keep, Ser Vortimer Crane, had been there in his youth. They sent for him, and when asked the question, Vortimer replied after only a moment's thought, his accent, a legacy of a youth spent at sea, very evident. "Yes milords, milady, Oldflowers ships c'd move past it, but if'n the castle's ballista and catapults'er still good the ships'd take a right pounding."

"But my lady, all this is supposition." Garth said after dismissing the man. "We can't send enough forces to Oldflowers to hold the castle in strength when we barely retain enough men here to defend even the inner wall."

"Too many men away at war." Said Margaery almost to herself then shook her head. "We sent too much our strength out too quickly to back Renly oh-so pretty Baratheon! Father damn him and damn us for being fools!"

Garth actually gulped a little at the vitriol in Margaery's voice, letting loose one of the gassy expectorations that had earned him the name Garth the Gross from Margaery when she was younger. "I-in your father's defense my lady, no one could have anticipated an attack like this from the Iron Islands, at least not one that was so successful. The Shield Islands coming under attack yes, but the Arbor itself?! Our fleet outnumbered the Iron Fleet two to one!"

News of the battle for the Arbor's disastrous start had come with the first raven from Oldtown sent by Ser Desmond Redwyne, who was acting as admiral of the fleet for now. It was heartening news that so many ships have been able to retreat even if most of them weren't true war galleys. With them they would be able to lift enough men to retake the Arbor from the Ironborn, but that would take more men than Oldtown had on hand.

And it would take time, Margaery thought to herself, shaking her head. Will they concentrate on strengthening their position on the island, or reave deeper into the Mander from the Shield Islands? The Ironborn have always been too grasping, too eager to raid and plunder rather than hold to what they have already taken. I think…

"With the men still here we can protect Highgarden, but if we do that, we won't be able to stop them raiding anywhere they want along the Mander and I'm not certain we could defend the city from them anyway. We don't have enough trained men to man the walls against a full on assault, and I refuse to pull back to the inner wall and let the smallfolk who look to us to protect them defenseless!"

"Great-uncle, I want a proclamation calling for archers among the smallfolk of the city and elsewhere on our House's lands to go out within the hour. I want to start seeing archers coming forward today. They are to be paid as armsmen for the duration of this emergency, and anyone who comes forward is to be told that, and given the first week's wages at once."

House Tyrell's coffers would easily pay that, in fact they could pay for over 100,000 such wages without making too large a dent in their treasury, though Margaery doubted she would get more than two-thousand or so archers, but any of them who could prove that they could pull a bow in battle would be worth it. "I also want the city watch to start training to a higher degree. If push comes to shove, I want them to be able to take their own places along the wall."

"But that will be a final defense." Margaery went on. "All the armsmen and archers we have presently here in the castle are to move out by sun up tomorrow to reinforce castle Oldflowers."

"I respectfully disagree with that decision your majesty." Garth said, shaking his head almost patronizingly. "As Vortimer said, Oldflowers can be bypassed. If we send our forces there, they'll simply move on from it."

"Not if I go with them and if it is known and spread about that I did. In fact we'll bring along House Tyrell's flag and place it there in plain sight." Margaery said firmly. "I would think that the only daughter of Lord Tyrell would be a prize the Ironborn could never turn away from."

Both men looked at each other then fell over one another in their attempts to convince Margaery not to put herself in danger like that, but Margaery was resolute and rode over their concerns swiftly. "With my grandmother incapacitated I speak for my family here. Are you saying I don't?" She asked one eyebrow arching in a way that Ranma would have shivered to see, reminding him far too much of Nabiki at that moment.

Her two advisors however reacted just as much. Garth let loose a series of expectorations, while the captain of the guard looked down, cowed.

"Besides, it won't be for long, only until Garlan can return with enough men to make both Oldflowers and Highgarden secure." Margaery thought for a moment, going through the knights who she knew that were still in residence in the house.

Thankfully Horas the Halfwit was not among them, nor was his brother, who in her opinion was a little worse than him. One in particular came to mind, a man that her brothers all respected for his steadfast loyalty and perseverance. "Send for Ser Willam Wythers, and assign him five other men. I have a mission for him."

With that she dismissed the two older men despite their continued protests, her frosty and haughty demeanor cowing them both despite her being a young woman possibly with the help of Olenna's vicious tongue lashing looming over their minds. After they left Margaery turned her attention to penning a letter for her brother.

It was simple enough: 'Garlan, a catastrophe has occurred. The Arbor and Shield Islands have all been taken by the Ironborn in a surprise attack. They somehow used crew fire-ships to destroy much of the fleet in their docks, we do not know how the Shield Islands were overcome. Enough ships survived so we might be able to win them back, but we need more men both along the Mander and in Oldtown with the fleet. I trust you to do the right thing. Your sister, Margaery.'

She could have mentioned that her grandmother was incapacitated by the news, but it was unnecessary. Garlan would know what to do. Margaery put that note to the side, then began to pen another message, which was certainly not to her brother. This one was much longer, filling up the piece of parchment from top to bottom in small lettering, but it would hopefully help both her and her family in the long run.

By the time she was done Ser Willam had been found, and both he and his men were ready to go. Willam came up to the meeting hall, and bowed formally. He was a little below middle-aged, of average size though his shoulders were wide, with light brown eyes and brown hair. "Milady, you have a mission for me?"

"Ser Willam." Margaery said looking up at him with a faint smile. "All three of my brothers agree that you are a good, dependable man, one of few things that all three agree on I can tell you. I have a mission for you, should you choose to volunteer for it."

"My lady does me too much credit." Willam said bowing his head slightly, not obsequiously, simply modestly.

"I hope not, because I'm going to put that dependability to the test. She said holding up one missive. "This is for my brother Garlan. We'll be sending a raven ahead, and that might reach him if he's got to Bitterbridge already, but if not, you might be able to find him faster than the raven can. I hope you do, because that will mean that his march back won't take as long."

William bowed. "I will find your brother milady, have no fear."

"That I don't have a fear about, it should be a relatively easy task. The next one however, is the one which I ask you to volunteer for. I want you to find Ranma Stark for me and deliver him this."

Margaery passed over the next message as William looked at her in shock. "Milady, the Starks have raised their banners…."

"Against the Lannister regime, not against House Tyrell. As far as I know he has no issues with our House, and if we can keep such from happening, we might be able to convince him to ally with us further down the line. I know for a fact he doesn't wants to take the throne for himself, which will leave an opening there my father will accept."

Actually Margaery didn't know anything of the sort, Ranma might be willing to take the throne simply because he didn't trust any of the other claimants with it, and frankly at this point she couldn't blame him. Damn father and his eagerness, we should never have sent so much of our strength to war! Garlan at least and the second echelon should've remained here in Highgarden at least. The first echelon should've been more than enough force but no, father was so convinced of the bigger hammer idea just like Renly! Men!

Willam nodded thoughtfully, taking in her words, not knowing the vitriol of her thoughts. "I see, that makes sense Your Highness, but surely he's still up in the North."

"No he isn't." Margaery replied shaking her head. Olenna had received a message from one of their factors in Seagard telling them that the Northern army had been there, as well as the rumors of what had happened to the Twins. "He'll be somewhere in the Riverlands by this point."

"Are you sure you're grace? I don't doubt that the Stark boy is an exceptional warrior, but to move an army that quickly?" Willam wasn't scared of dying, but he knew the Riverlands was a war zone right now, and the Crownlands might well be heading in that same direction.

"Oh yes, Ranma is far more capable than most would give him credit for, and that extends to his ability to get the most out of his men. Just look for a victorious army celebrating a victory somewhere in the Riverlands. Trust me, that'll be him." Margaery said dryly.

Later that day Margaery was accosted by her mother as she continued to put Highgarden on a wartime footing. Alerie Tyrell was a tall, dignified woman with hair that had gone prematurely silver, the only sign of age anywhere on her face or body. Most of the time she ran the household and remained in the background, having no interest in war, politics or anything but the running of the castle and her family.

It was that second concern that made her come to see her daughter now. "I have heard a disturbing rumor Margaery, that you are going to travel with the armsmen we're sending to castle Oldflowers? Tell me this is just a rumor."

"I'm afraid it isn't mother." Margaery said, looking up from writing out the missive that would be carried into Tyrell lands. They were already getting archers from the city's smallfolk, a very good sign. "I need to go, to show the Ironborn a prize that they can't possibly ignore."

"But you'll be in danger!" Alerie said, almost losing her composure at the very idea of her daughter being that close to the raping, murderous Ironborn. "Please, just send your personal banner and a servant dressed as you. Will that not do the same thing?"

"It might then again it might not depending on if rumors spread to the Ironborn. Moreover the morale of our own men is a factor to consider. If I send a double it will appear as if this is all a forlorn hope, that I do not trust them enough to keep me safe." Margaery shrugged, then turned from her desk to take her mother's hand. "I understand your concern mother, and I don't like to distress you like this, but to be blunt these are distressing times. If I can do my part in keeping Highgarden safe, I need to do so."

Alerie looked at her daughter, or rather the young woman that had been her daughter, and sighed. "As headstrong as your father, I could wish you got more of my personality! Still, if you are set on this I will only wish you luck." She smirked suddenly. "And I will make certain not to mention your absence to mother, I doubt she could handle the strain at present."

Margaery sighed with relief at that, causing her mother to laugh, but there was an edge of seriousness in that. Olenna wasn't in the best of health now, she would pull through, but it remained in question what shape her body or mind would be in.

The next day she rode out on a horse at the head of the remaining armsmen of her family, marching proudly with her personal banner over her head. And in her bodice, Margaery had a small hold out dagger that Ranma had given her and taught her to use. One never knew, after all.

OOOOOOO

The next day, Domeric and Alayaya made themselves at home, routing out anyone who was sending out information as to what had happened in the town to anyone elsewhere. They didn't find many, only a single small scale merchant who was sending information to the Reach of all places, but was more than willing, with the damage to the town laying all around him, to leave off such. This, along with the fact the Lannister's acts against the smallfolk had cut them off from the local rumor mill, might allow Ranma to plan a bit of a surprise down the line for Tywin.

He had hoped that would be the case, hence why he and Daenerys hadn't used the banner Sansa had created yet, or the dragons except in cases where the enemy could be beaten in such a way as to keep news from spreading. The problem with armies at this level of technology was they were out of the information loop, only able to send easily not receive, unless they had partisans among the locals who had that ability.

Bracken and the other local lords Tywin had coerced or forced did not have that ability. While rumor might reach Tywin eventually about the dragons returning, he was a man who wouldn't believe such until his agents could back it up. This might allow Ranma and Daenerys an opportunity to use her dragons decisively on many different levels despite their still not being the strongest or most agile flyers.

While the two spymasters were at work Ranma and Myrcella went to see the prisoner that Jon had taken, Ser Addam Marbrand. Ranma hoped to use the man to plant some long term seeds as it were.

As the only noble prisoner (only prisoner really) they had taken, the Marbrand heir had a room all to himself in the keep though it didn't have any windows and the guards were specifically ordered not to talk in his entered first, one eyebrow quirked in amusement at the man who was lying back on his cot staring at the ceiling. "Addam Marbrand?"

The man looked up at him smirking. "That would be me, and you would be?"

"Ranma Stark. Ranma answered cocking his head slightly at the other man. "You met my brother Jon, he's the one that knocked you out if you've somehow forgotten. Head wounds are tricky like that."

"Oh I've had head wounds before, this was more of a love tap than many really. Jon was much quicker than I'd expected though." The man replied blithely, reminding Ranma strongly of Jaime for a moment despite not looking at all like the golden-haired Lannister. Though having much the same build as the Kingslayer, Addam had dark, shoulder-length copper colored hair and dark brown eyes.

Now those eyes hardened. "It is a mistake I will not make again."

"Hah, if you're looking for a rematch I suppose Jon would oblige you, though I doubt you'd fare any better against him a second time." Ranma said chuckling at the other man's bravado. "On a more serious note, I regret to inform you that I don't believe in playing that old ransom game."

"So what you're here to talk to me before sending me to the gallows?" Addam asked.

"In the North we don't use gallows." Ranma replied coldly, losing his jocular tone as he fingered Ice's hilt where it rode in its sheathe on his back. "The man who passes the sentence wields the sword."

"Ranma." said Myrcella from behind him pushing forward lightly to get him of the doorway. "Enough of that." After Ranma moved to one side and Myrcella moved in, looking at the Westerlands knight with her head cocked to one side. "I don't know if you remember me Ser Addam, but I believe we met once when I traveled with my mother and siblings to the Rock when I was… five or six I think? You and my uncle put on a show of swordsmanship for us all." She blushed faintly. "I'm sorry to say that's the only reason I remember you."

"You were quite young your highness," said the man, swiftly getting to his feet before bowing floridly. "It is good to see that these northern dogs have treated you appropriate to your station."

"I am not a prisoner Ser." Myrcella said, her own voice becoming cold for a moment before warming as she looked over at Ranma. "I am a guest of honor, and an ally of Ranma Stark." She then turned back to Addam, frowning as she took in his bandaged chest and the blood clotting his hair on one side. "Did someone actually look at that, or did they just toss some bandages on you before putting you in here?"

"Um, just bandaged me your highness, but I am not badly hurt, thank you for your concern, nothing cracked just some nasty bruises." Addam replied, then looked mystified as Merry rolled her eyes and turned to shouts some orders out the door.

Ranma laughed lightly. "Our Merry has become quite the healer since we left King's Landing. I'd just go with it if I were you."

While they waited for the supplies Merry had bellowed for, she turned back. "A lot has changed since then yes." She went on to describe to Addam what had occurred in King's Landing, which she, Daenerys and Ranma had all agreed she should share with the man if he was going to be used as a messenger to her grandfather. Ranma didn't really think anything would come of it quickly, but he was willing to muddy the waters.

"So I really had no choice but to come with the Northerners, and since Ranma returned, he has put me under his personal protection. And frankly with all I suspect I would be killed if I ever return to King's Landing." Myrcella finished, then turned back to the doorway, taking the medical supplies, some new bandages, and a small bottle of firemilk with a smile for the guard before turning back. "Now, tilt your head for me please."

Somewhat bemused Addam obeyed, wondering where this officious little thing had come from since all the rumors about her had said Myrcella had a gentle, shy disposition. He winced occasionally at her touch and the touch of the spirits she was using to disinfect his head wound, but not much.

"A princess needs no northern dogs protection or wouldn't if said northern dog knew who his master was." Addam said after a moment, looking over at Ranma and almost visibly deciding to ignore the princess's ministrations.

Ranma laughed. "If you're trying to get a rise out of me for some reason Ser Addam, you better try harder. Besides, what do you think would happen to you if you did anyway? I routinely beat Jon in our spars easily." Well not easily really, but routinely certainly.

"Can't fault a man for trying." Addam muttered, having thought he might have been able to make a break for the door if Ranma would try to move forward to attack him, or at least taint the northern whelp in the princess' eyes. It was obvious the girl liked him too much for their disparate positions. Still he didn't really want try to fight Ranma one on one anyway. The tale of Ranma literally ripping apart Gregor Clegane had spread to the Westerlands well before this. "Why are you here then, if not to gloat?"

"I said I wouldn't be asking for a ransom for you and I meant it. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to use you as a messenger. First though, can you tell me if anything new has been discovered about Tommy's death?"

Addam blinked at the sudden change of topic, then blinked again at the nickname of the dead prince. "No, certainly nothing about it had reached the Army before I led the assault force here. But, I, why, I mean, he's been dead for months now, and his murderer too." He flinched then as he looked over at where Merry had just pulled back from him, having bandaged the side of his head to her satisfaction. "My apologies your highness, of course it would be playing on your mind still, but I had thought that a cut and dried matter of the poisoner being found red-handed."

"Too red-handed," said Ranma and Myrcella as one. Ranma laughed lightly then, before motioning forMerry to talk. "I was always leery of that story, it seems too false to me. I talked to Tyene a few times, and she always struck me as rather intelligent and subtle of mind."

"For my part," Ranma interjected, "I thought that Tyene was too bright to let herself be caught with the poison still on her like that. If she even had a reason to attack Tommy. She was around Tommy dozens of times before that, why would she kill him?"

Addam scowled, looking at them both. "I don't know anything about what happened in King's Landing Stark, why are you asking me this?"

"I told you you're going to be used as a messenger. I want Lord Lannister to realize that there might be another player in this game, one that is willing to pit us all against one another. I tell you now, on my honor as a Stark that if Tommen was still alive, neither my father or I would ever have moved against the Queen. We both felt Tommy was beginning to show true Baratheon qualities, unlike Joffrey who has never shown anything of the sort. In that alone we agree with the propaganda the two Baratheon brothers are putting out, Joffrey is no Baratheon, though we have no idea why Stannis thinks he is a child of incest."

Addam glared at that slander, but said nothing and after a moment Ranma went on. "Tommen on the other hand, while not having any of the physical features of his father, was beginning to act a lot like him. And before his death, my father and Robert wished to name Tommen the heir, indeed they had decided on that a bare five days before Tommen was poisoned."

For a moment Addam was silent staring at Ranma. "The timing was that close? You swear that on your honor as a Stark?"

"Yes. Interesting coincidence isn't it?" Ranma said sarcastically.

"But if not the Martells, then who would want to pit the Lannisters and Starks against one another? The Tyrells?"

"Doubtful, maybe they could have schemed against Sansa and Joffrey's upcoming marriage, but they couldn't gain anything from Tommen's death. No, it was someone else within the court, someone who is willing to play that kind of underhanded game and had the resources to do it well."

"So either it really was the Martells and they were willing to sacrifice the Sand Snake, or the eunuch or the master of coin?"

"Someone who didn't want the Lions and the direwolves aligning that's all I know." Ranma replied with a shrug. "At the moment, we're still playing their game. I'm not going to stop, I won't say that I will, Joffrey isn't legitimate, nor worthy of the throne even if he was, but this war would never have broken out if Tommen was still alive."

"How can you stay with a man who…"

Merry shook her head before Addam could go on. "My brother is not a Baratheon, I've seen the proof of that. Besides, would you want a boy who doesn't know the difference between shooting water at a cat and ripping it's stomach apart to look at its babies on the throne?"

Addam gulped a little at the coldness in Myrcella's tone, startling from one of her lineage though her emerald eyes glared so much it reminded him starkly of her mother for a moment. "I, I see. I'll certainly pass your words on to Lord Lannister. What else do you want me to do to earn my freedom?"

"I want your word on your family's name that you will not raise your blade against the forces of House Stark, Tully or our allies for the remainder of this war."

"Just your forces?" Addam said with a smirk, recovering some of his attitude then laughed aloud as Ranma smirked back at him.

"It's a good offer my lord, especially since the Ironborn are on the move to judge from their predations into the Cape of Eagles. I have no doubt that a blade of your skill will be better used elsewhere." Ranma said with a laugh. "We'll let you go tomorrow morning, but remember what I said. I want Lord Lannister to think really hard about who benefited the most from Tommen's death, in the long and the short term."

With that, Ranma led Merry out of the room, leaving Addam to his thoughts. Once they were well away from the prisoner's room, Ranma put his arm around Merry's shoulders gently. "Sorry to bring up bad memories Merry, and sorry we couldn't come out and say that Joffrey was the one behind Tommy's death. But no one would believe it, not without the evidence staring 'em in the face."

Merry nodding nuzzling slightly into Ranma's side for a moment before the two of them were joined by Daenerys, who put her own arm around the younger girl from the other side. "I take it your bit of acting went over well?"

"I think so." Merry replied, smiling up at the only slightly taller Daenerys. "I hope it works, but…" Merry hoped that this bit of information might add up with all the other occurrences that Tywin had already heard from King's Landing and possibly convince her grandfather to back off from armed conflict with the Starks. After all, there were so many enemies elsewhere.

Ranma on the other hand knew there had already been too much blood spilled, not just in King's Landing but here in the Riverlands for that to happen. No, he wanted to just add a little more worry to Tywin, to make him spend just a bit more time worrying on what could be happening elsewhere. That kind of thing could add up over time. "We planted a seed at least. Now we just need to make certain he is sent on his way without hearing of you or your little ones, Daenerys."

The next day, while Ranma's men continued to aid in the rebuilding of the town and the reinforcement of its defenses, eight Stark men took Addam Marbrand out of his room. With Daenerys out with her little ones on the other side of the Blue Fork, they quickly left the keep and headed south for half a day. There they cut Addam loose and sent him on his way with three horses taken from the force that had attacked the town. He went on his way none the wiser about the Targaryen girl or her dragons but with his mind a-boil about other matters.

Later that same day, while Merry and her new bodyguard had returned to her work in the hospital, Ranma and Daenerys led a war council. Ser Grell and Ser Paege had arrived, racing ahead of their men by a good half a day, a move that might have had disastrous consequences if the Lannisters in the area hadn't been routed so badly. Still they were here now, and listened as Ranma described the bare bones of his plan to his senior commanders.

Newly arrived just in time for this conference, Desmond Grell stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Ambitious my lord, possibly too much, besides, what you're describing is pinpricks, not killing blows. Tywin's army might not be able to move as fast without supplies, but they'll still be able to live off the land. Worse, every successive attack will take more of your own strength away from the main battles."

"We don't need every part of the plan to work perfectly. Besides, I think Tywin is arrogant enough to set tactics over strategy, much like you Ser Desmond. Those pinpricks as you call them will cut his army off at the knees." Ranma replied.

Desmond scoffed, but seeing none of the others agreed with himdidn't speak up again, admitting to himself he didn't really understand logistics either. Still it seemed farfetched to him.

"I like some of it nephew, but that bit about the second attack group splitting off, that might be too… well too good to be believed. Tywin's a cagy man, he might see through that, and besides, I don't know how much damage they'd be able to do on the other side of the Red Fork, not with the amount of men Tywin has and the smallfolk either serving him or having already fled." Rickard warned.

Jon was silent as was Daenerys both of them going over House Paege's map of the Riverlands.

But Jason Mallister shook his head and when he spoke his tone was impressed. "In politics, Tywin is cagy, as a general that is something very different. He didn't take part in Robert's Rebellion until the very end, his campaign against the Ironborn on Great Wyk didn't show any particular skill simply a high level of brutality, and the battles against the Houses he tore down when they challenged him in the Westerlands were simple affairs. Logistics and long term strategy didn't matter much if at all in them."

"You're talking a grand strategy, and moreover attacking him in such a way that none have done in the past. Like Desmond, we are all too used to thinking in terms of armies assaulting one another openly, of battles for position and head on clashes. This is an oblique approach, one I doubt he will see coming because, well it is so Un-Stark-like, forgive me for saying so."

"It's a crooked way, I'll give you that," Ser Paige murmured, his eyes on Ranma, something a little like bemusement in them, as if he wasn't certain what he was seeing. Rickard was looking at him too, lips quirked in a very odd grimace. "But are you certain you can pull off even enough to give us a slight advantage in the field?"

"With this strategy my lords we have four arrows in our quiver." Daenerys murmured, not looking up from. "If one works we will gain a strategic advantage and at least split Tywin's attention then with each successful arrow going home, the damage becomes worse. It's a magnificent strategy, and I think it will work at least enough for us to gut Tywin's forces."

"What forces were you thinking for my role in this grand strategy yours, brother?" Jon asked.

"House Grell's men and seven hundred 'll make most of those numbers up with men from mountain clans along with two hundred archers. No horse though, the way you're going they would slow you down." Ranma replied.

His brother nodded, smiling grimly. That would give him a thousand men give or take, local guides plus excellent irregular infantry, the type that wouldn't be good for a shield wall, but in the woods…"I was going to ask for the clansmen in any case. They'll be perfect for this."

Jon's orders were to head down the Tumblestone, a river that ran down from the mountains of the Pendric Hills to meet up with the Red Fork at Riverrun. It was wild, utterly unnavigable by boat thanks to constant rocks, shoals, and a very fast current, which was one reason why there were no villages or farms along it, that and the fact most of it ran through heavy hills and dales. But that kind of terrain would pose no problem to Northerners, particularly mountain clansmen like the Wulls and the Burleys.

His objective was to follow it west then cross it and take Wayfarer's Rest, shutting down the logistics train from the Westerlands to Tywin's army. "Close the River Road any way you can." Ranma reiterated. "I don't care how much supplies they're getting from the traitorous Brackens or anyone else, that will hurt them. And if the rest of the campaign goes off as it should, then it will loom even larger in the stomachs of Tywin's troops…"

After that the meeting went on to more particulars, but after the battles he had won so far, none of Ranma's Northern fellows were willing to argue overmuch. The Riverlanders would have, but Jason actually agreed with Ranma that his strategy would work, which took the bite out of the other's argument. That very night Jon and his forces set out, marching through the night with House Grell's newly arrived men guiding them, heading west towards the Hag's Mire. After that they would cut straight south to make for the Whispering Woods.

The next day, with Ranma unwilling to wait for House Paege's scouts to get back to them, the rest of the army set out at midday moving quickly toward Shawney castle, ready for anything. They were accompanied by a force of woodsmen and carpenters, who would be useful to create barges that would carry a force of men further down the river to the Ruby Ford to link up with the defenders there as well as, by this point, the Northern army.

OOOOOOO

A few days after Ranma's force left Fairmarket, another commander was thinking about barges as well. Garlan cradled the message from his sister in one hand, thinking hard as he gazed at the map in his other hand. "We have another week's worth of marching before we reach Bitterbridge… I want two men to take four horses, ride ahead of the army, tell whoever Caswell left in charge to start constructing as many barges as he can. We'll use them to barge down the Mander back to Highgarden, further if we can safely though I know not how deep in the Mander the Ironborn will be willing to raid so quickly after taking the Shield Islands."

Around him some of the other lords and nights nodded grimly. The Florent boy, Alekyne looked scared but given his lack of experience even in tourneys Garlan wasn't surprised by that. Garlan himself wasn't very experienced, and he knew it, but, at least he'd squired under one of the best generals in the Reach, which made up for it. The others, especially the Redwyne twins, looked worried, angry and determined.

Not all of them seemed to understand the danger though. "My lord, we are due to join the assault on King's Landing!" Said Steffon Varner, a Noble House whose seat was east of Highgarden. Steffon was Mace's age, and was eager to join the battle with his friend.

"We took too much of our strength off the defenses." Gunthor Hightower replied, his dark eyes narrowed in thought. He was another young man of Garlan's age who was known more for being bookish than any martial air but, as Willas had been quick to point out to Garlan, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. "We need to reclaim the Arbor and the Shield Islands quickly, who knows how much damage the Ironborn can do to both the towns and the people there if we don't? And their ships can go deeper into the Mander than any war galley. Highgarden itself might be in danger if we don't turn back."

"Yes my lord, but we can't take the full army, your father's orders were explicit." Lord Martyn Mullendore said. Ostensibly sworn to House Hightower, they were a minor Noble House who had chaffed under that oath many a time. Here and now however Martyn, another man of Mace's age, and his son Mark were both eager to prove their House's worth on the field of battle. That was why their House had fielded a little over four thousand men, half of whom were heavy cavalry.

And of course, cavalry is useless on ship-to-ship actions. Garlan mused, a thought very few Reach knights would have been able to understand, let alone acknowledge. I find it interesting though that he and lord Cuy both put forth nearly their entire strength, while Lord Hightower sent a bare two-thousand, five hundred or so, mixed infantry and cavalry. On the other hand, his infantry are all trained well above the rest of the 'infantry' the other houses provided…

Out loud Garlan said, "You are right of course my lords, so we will split our army once we reach Bitterbridge." Over the next hour, while the army continued to march the lords began to hammer out how the army would split as well as who would command the force continuing to King's Landing.

Garlan decided to put Lord Arthur Ambrose in command of that force. Arthur had seniority and he was a thoughtful, intelligent man who had served with Lord Randyll Tarly in the vanguard of the Reach forces during the Robert's Rebellion in the only battle which the Reach really won in that war. The composition of the two forces went easily save for Cuy, Mullendore, and surprisingly Florent insistence that they and their forces keep going.

Florent was surprising because Garlan thought Lord Florent would have given his son orders to avoid any battle that might pit them against Stannis, given his niece's marriage to Stannis. Mullendore and Cuy too should have turned back with the Hightower contingent, as their Houses were sworn to Hightower. But since Gunthor didn't say anything, Garlan decided to not make an issue of it in Mullendore's case, unlike Lord Cuy whose keep, Sunhouse, could be in danger from an attack from the ocean. However he wasn't able to convince the man of that danger.

He had at least 'convinced' Mullendore and Cuy to send their infantry back with him. Actually both of them were happy to foist their infantry off on Garlan, since neither saw the levies that made up their infantry force worth anything at all. Garlan might have thought the same if not for Lord Tarly's teaching, and while he wasn't very good at using them, he knew they would be of use in any ship battle.

In the end, Hightower, Blackbar, Costayne, Bulwer, and the levies from Cuy and Mullendore would join his own House's men in turning back. This would give him over 13,000 men in order to protect the Reach from the Ironborn and take back the Arbor and Shield Islands, a tall order possibly, but doable. The rest of the army, made up of the vast majority of the second echelon's heavy cavalry with only a smattering of infantry and a somewhat decent archer contingent, amounted to a little over 19,000.

"If we could, we should take the Mander as far as House Oldflowers, then march across to Brightwater Keep then take the Honeywine down to Oldtown. It will save us at least two months of marching." Gunthor Hightower murmured.

"Agreed, but I doubt we'll be able to get that far before we run into opposition on the Mander." Garlan replied grimly, then at last put his map back in his satchel before looking over to Ser Willam, who had kept up with the rest of the commanders as they rode along. "You have my thanks for delivering this so quickly Willam. Are you to ride back with us, or did my sister order you to ride on to inform father of what has occurred?"

"I have other tasks my lord yes," Willam said, mindful of lady Margaery's orders to not share his mission with Garlan. "But I will ride with you if I may to Bitterbridge."

Garlan nodded, turning away from Willam already as his mind grappled with the problems that would face him.

OOOOOOO

Frowning thoughtfully Tywin put the message from his brother down on the small field table. "Interesting." he murmured. At a wave of his hand his nephew Daven reached out and picked it up. Reading it quickly Daven stood back, not saying anything allowing his uncle to gather his thoughts first, one of the many little things that Tywin approved of in the young man.

The older Lannisterstared off into the distance, his fingers tapping on the hilt of gem and jewel encrusted sword at his side in a very slow staccato rhythm as he thought. If the Ironborn have attacked Lannisport, where else have they attacked? Where was Westeros weak before this war began? The Cape of Eagles, portions of the North, possibly Fair Isle, where else?

"My pack." He ordered without looking around. His servant hurried to obey, retrieving a large satchel pack. It was not like one a normal soldier would use, this one was made to hold scrolls and parchment and keep it watertight. "Find me the reports from our spies about the readiness of the Shield Islands, Greenstone, Tarth, and the Arbor."

A moment later he frowned thoughtfully several small pieces of parchment, each covered with small tight script spread out on the table in front of them. Greenstone and Tarth would be excellent targets, but it would take time to get to them and such an assault would not matter to me in the slightest save for it taking more of the Ironborn's strength away from their islands. The Arbor is a question, and the Shield Islands are prepared, the houses that hold them have always taken their duty seriously. Would Balon be willing to avoid them by goin further out to sea, could he overlook the challenge they represent?

After a moment Tywin decided that Balon hadn't become anymore intelligent or thoughtful, believing in his people's martial strength despite being taught otherwise. Especially since he'd decided an attack on Lannisport would be a good idea after the last war. He should've known that we would've been prepared for that. So he might well have attacked the Shield Islands rather than a softer target. Could he have taken them? Doubtful, but possible if he had enough strength on hand…

Now, if I was Balon, I would have concentrated my strength on the North, that would have suited me both because it is not nearly as defensible as elsewhere, and because it would fit Balon's personality. The Northmen were the spearhead when Robert took the castle of Pyke, as well as in charge of taking Harlaw.

He smiled thinly at that thought, amused that this latest disaster could be laid at the foot of Eddard's softness. During Balon's rebellion the lords present for the invasion of the Iron Islands had each been assigned an island to assault. Eddard had been assigned Harlaw, the Reach forces Blacktyde and Saltcliffe, the Stormlands Pyke and Orkmont, which slowed them down enough on Pyke for Eddard's forces to join the assault on the castle of the same name. Eddard had used a soft hand, letting his enemies surrender when he could, and trying to mitigate the damage to the island or it's populace while being very thorough in the destruction of their ships and ship building capacity.

Tywin had been assigned the attack on Great Wyk and had brutalized the families there, nearly wiping out several before the others had been ordered to surrender due to events on Pyke. And he would've continued it afterwards if not for the King's order to leave off. Fools, they should have known the Ironborn only respect power and brutality. If you don't have your boot on their neck, they will always lash out, the Ironborn are no better than beasts really.

Still they did cause a lot of damage in Lannisport, and that must be answered. Moreover, if they've gone to war then their main strength will be elsewhere. There is an opportunity here, or… perhaps more than one.

"My Lord?"

Tywin looked up at the interruption, his cold emerald eyes locked on the unfortunate messenger who gulped but went on gamely. "My Lord, Lord Moreland has asked me to inform you that Ser Addam Marbrand has arrived, alone. He begs leave to speak to you."

For a moment Tywin continued to glare at the man, then nodded his head coolly. "Send for him."

A moment later Addam Marbrand was led into his tent, looking much the worse for wear those his injuries looked as if they were healing well. Tywin stared at him for a moment, while the younger man fidgeted under his gaze. Addam could all too easily remember the times when he was younger, and he and Jaime got into trouble and were stared at just like that.

"You look as if you had a bit of an adventure." Tywin said finally his voice cold yet somehow bitingly amused. "Did your assault on Fairmarket fail so miserably then?"

Addam licked suddenly dry lips but answered him. "Well my lord, it was going well but luck was against us. A force of Northerners arrived during the battle and turned the tide. I would assume that some of the stragglers are still trying to make their way back here though I don't know how many."

In fact that number was precisely zero. Roger and Hathan had been very thorough in their chase. Those few they hadn't found had gone to ground, and were no longer interested in fighting for anyone other than themselves.

"I see. Well, it was always a chance proposition at best given your force strength and the fact the Mallister force had arrived already. I had report from Lord Estren who was leading the infiltration of House Shawney's castle that he didn't even try seeing its defenses. But on the other hand, you can see Lolliston fell easily enough."

Considering the army was camped around the open and gutted keep of House Lolliston, that was rather a redundant statement. Normally Tywin would have punished the man, Lord Regenard Estren, severely for not following orders but he had given the man leeway in those orders to pull back if he felt the assault couldn't work.

"And you were released to us as a messenger." Tywin stated, his voice certain. From the fact his wounds had been seen to despite the younger man's general dishevelment that was the only conclusion he could reach. "What is Ranma Stark's message to me?"

"Your granddaughter the Princess Myrcella spoke to me personally. She is being well-treated, and seems to think that the Starks are her allies. They are treating her as a princess, and have stated that they do not believe Stannis's lies about…" Addam trailed off as his lord's eyes became noticeably colder. When those chips of emerald latched onto you like that, you could almost see your life flashing before your eyes, but it wasn't nearly as pleasant.

He went on hurriedly, relating the story that Myrcella had told him about events in King's Landing which had led to her willingly going with the Starks. The fact that Ranma had put Myrcella under his protection and the rather astonishing fact that she seemed to have continued her studies in healing, which Tywin hadn't even heard of because she personally saw to Addam's wounds. "Rather efficiently too my Lord, I've gone to better healers but more often far worse ones in the past."

"That is interesting, but it cannot be all you were left out to tell me. And no doubt you were personally forced to give your oath about something?"

"I have vowed not to raise my hand or blade against the Starks or their allies for the duration of this war. That is all my Lord, I am free to wield my blade against any other enemies of the Crown, just not them."

Tywin raised an eyebrow at that, rather amused though it didn't show on his face of course. Amusement never showed on Tywin's face, nor did he ever laugh, and he mistrusted those who did so in his presence. The Cape of Eagles has been attacked then, and Stark is wishful to leave me a weapon good enough to be used against the Ironborn. Addam may not be my most capable commander but he's decent enough and my army's best blade, which will matter rather more in a sea action than any skill in leading men on land. "I see, and what else?"

The younger man went on to describe Ranma's thoughts on Tommen's death, the reason behind it, and his oath that on his name that if Tommen had lived the Starks would not have rebelled against the crown as they had. And he reiterated that both Ranma and Myrcella stated unequivocally that the poisoner had hundreds of moments where she could've done something to Tommen before his death.

Unlike with the Shield Islands and the rest of the Ironborn's possible targets Tywin did not need to get out his notes from his spies in Kings Landing or the messages his daughter and grandmaster had sent him, he could remember them offhand. Of course they wouldn't have, they had influence over Tommen, if he lived he would have been easy for the Starks to influence, as I noted long before this. One part of his mind said. And whatever else, the poisoner must have suspected that Ranma at the very least would suspect her, so waited until he was out of the city. Nothing simpler.

Yes, but would I care which grandson was sitting on the throne so long as it was one of my blood? Another part of his mind said. Besides, by all the reports from the Pycelle and Cersei, before his death Tommen was showing a marked degree of intelligence and growth whereas Joffrey by all neutral accounts of the boy has only shown a certain base cunning. Which would have made the better king?And I already didn't believe that the Sand Snake was really behind it, if only because I know Doran would never be a party to it. The Dornish play the game of thrones subtly and with great ability, Tommen's death would have been far too blunt for them. That part of his mind went on.

"Who does Ranma believed to have truly been behind Tommen's murder then?" he asked aloud.

"He hinted at it either being the Master of Whisperers or Coin. The princess said that Baelish seemed to've been growing close to Joffrey before Tommen's death, though she didn't know how close he was."

Tywin slowly began to tap the hilt of his sword once more, not looking at Addam now rather staring off into the distance as he thought. Ranma's opinion matched his own when he heard of his grandson's murder, yet hearing it now brought that back to his mind and made him think about the long term ramifications of either of those men attempting to manipulate the crown through Joffrey.

He shook himself of those thoughts as well as numerous 'might have been 's' with difficulty. There is nothing I can do about anything in King's Landing from this far removed. He had to deal with the here and now. And here and now, Ranma Stark is my enemy and possibly the most dangerous one.

"Tell me… he said looking back at Addam. "How close are the young Stark and my granddaughter?"

"Very friendly, she seemed to trust him implicitly, and vice versa. The princess could've passed a message on to me at any point during that conversation when she was looking at my wounds, but she didn't."

"So if I sent a few men to try and sneak in and get her out of their camp you are afraid that would not work?"

"I believe that the princess would not willingly go, no. She is very frightened about King's Landing and returning there. She bluntly said that she would probably be killed if she returned."

The idea that Myrcella would think her mother and the crown couldn't protect her startled Tywin somewhat. But another part of his mind said it's already been proven that it can't, hasn't it?

"Very well," he said aloud, shaking those thoughts out of his head once more. Once this war was over he would have more than enough time to plumb the depths of the cesspool that was King's Landing, and burn all the shit in it away. "While interesting and informative, indeed it clears up several minor mysteries it does not help us right now. Do you intend to keep your word to Stark?"

Addam stiffened slightly. "Ser, I am a knight, and I gave my word of honor."

Tywin refrained from rolling his eyes with difficulty. Seven save me from honorable fools. Tywin thought that the given word was something that should only be given out sparingly, and even then if it had to be broken or manipulated to gain an advantage, that was simply part of the game. Addam unfortunately was one of those knights that took his vows seriously. Still, that doesn't mean he can't be of use. "Very well, leave me and see to yourself. I will be sending you orders in a few hours."

The man bowed and left and Tywin turned to look at his nephew. "What do you think of all that?"

This was a test, Daven realized. He wasn't an idiot, nor was he blind. He knew that his lord uncle had seemingly begun to favor him since this campaign began, and Daven had made certain to step up his game in return. But this was the first time Daven had been asked about his opinion on something even slightly political. So he took the time to think his answer through before speaking.

"I think it's another reason to watch Petyr and the eunuch closely, but that's nothing new. What is new is that one of them might have been willing to act in such a manner. Surely both of them must know that regardless of their scapegoat they will be viewed with suspicion irrespective of any proof. If they were really part of this, the gain must've been large enough for the danger to seem worth it."

"And you don't think open warfare between the Starks, the Baratheons, the Tyrell's and us is enough?" Tywin asked rhetorically.

If he didn't know how his uncle would react Daven would have replied that it would depend on whether or not the Queen could have been convinced to set aside her oldest in favor of her youngest as heir in return for evidence of her infidelity not coming out. If that had occurred, Stannis might well have faced the united front of the Starks and Lannisters, and so would, to use a smallfolk phrase Daven had heard recently 'be up shit creek without a paddle'.

That topic however would not be helpful at this time. Instead he said. "Neither of them are military men, or have any kind of power base where they could reasonably assume they'd get anything out of a war between us and the Starks regardless of which side wins. So they must be playing for something else. Some other goal that will allow them to wield more power from the small council."

Tywin nodded thoughtfully, having considered and discarded that idea already. The Master of Whisperers is not one to take chances, it's extremely doubtful that the man would've been involved with Tommen's death in any way. Petyr however is a possibility, especially if he could gain larger influence over the crown. I wish I had better communication with King's Landing, but with the army on the move I have too few ravens to waste on a message that would tell Pycelle and Serret nothing they don't already know, and it's doubtful any messenger I sent would ever arrive.

"Enough," he said aloud shaking his head. "We have enough to concentrate on here and now with the Northerners. "We'll keep all this in mind for later when we move down to King's Landing to battle the Baratheon brothers, but we can't let ourselves become distracted."

"Yes my Lord," Daven said though he said it in such a way that Tywin cocked an eyebrow at him. The younger man shrugged. "I'm just worried about King's Landing my Lord, it's a decent defensible position especially if Lord Serret reached it. But even so with the numbers the Reach can bring to bear, and it's lack of internal supplies…" He shrugged uncomfortably. "It just seems as if we would be better served to head down there ourselves even if the Starks come after us later."

"If the Starks hadn't split their forces as they have I would be inclined to agree with you." Tywin replied honestly, something he would not have done in front of any non-family member in hearing range. "But they did, judging from the reports of the few spies we have on the eastern side of the Green Fork that have been able to send messages to us. Judging from the notes of one spy from House Wayn, the talks there aren't going well which means that more than a half of the Stark's army will have to backtrack all the way up to the Twins in order to get across the green fork in any substantial number."

For most of its course the Green Fork was too wild for any kind of barge to get across, only stabilizing somewhat near the Ruby Ford judging from the note from his spy in old Wayn's house it was doubtful that the defenders there would allow any army across even well away from their own lines, fearing that it would break the treaty they had clandestinely agreed to with Tywin.

"That defense is one I don't want to take on, but if the young pup is with another portion of his army coming out of Fairmarket as Ser Addam just confirmed, that might allow us to defeat them in detail. Why else did you think I let our own defenses behind?No, Stark made a strategic blunder there thinking he could reform his army later on while devoting time to first destroy the Freys and then meet with Lord Mallister. Send out our scouts, good trustworthy men. We need to know where his army is, I have no doubt he's already moved on from Fairmarket but where is the question. We need to bring him to battle and crush him then we can leave a holding force at Harrenhal and the position back at the ford and move down into the Crownlands."

Daven nodded as Tywin continued, outlining further orders.

Two hours later the Army was once more on the move, leaving behind the current forward position that they had established in the ruins of House Lolliston. It had been taken by subterfuge, bands of men dressed as smallfolk ostensibly fleeing from the path of the Lannister army infiltrating the keep and then attacking the defenders from the inside while the swiftest moving portions of the Lannister army arrived to attack the outside.

Not all of the army was going in the same direction. Half of House Marbrand's forces, along with a thousand more pulled from other houses marched back down to the defensive position on the other side of the Red Fork then onwards, heading back to the Westerlands, picking up a further thousand from the holding force left at the defense across the Kneeling Man's ford, which had initially been composed of the forces stationed in Stone Hedge before the main Westerlands army set off.

In total this gave Ser Addam around four thousand and five hundred men. They would march back to Lannisport, there to be placed under the command of Kevan Lannister for whatever task he wanted to put them to. Tywin had already sent a raven back with some suggestions, but as man on the spot Kevan would have final say, something Tywin would never have allowed to anyone but his brother.

This left nineteen thousand men directly under Tywin, who had recalled his portion of the forces besieging Raventree Hall weeks back, replacing them with further Riverlands forces. He knew that was a side show, if the Starks lost the Blackwoods would surrender and it kept Jonos Bracken and the other Riverlands lords busy. He didn't want anyone with his army who might feel they had divided loyalties or could gain their House something by switching sides as Lord Vypren had done in the crown's favor.

Lord Vypren and his men stayed with Tywin however. While Tywin had sent a thousand men up to reinforce castle Vypren, he had retained the lord because he and his scouts were excellent local guides. That force was under Ser Lymond Vikary, the head of a knightly house sworn to House Lannister.

The massive army moved northeast, heading for what Tywin felt was the most logical place for Ranma to head to, Castle Shawney.

OOOOOOO

There was fire, fire taking the Red Keep. Stannis, grim, cold, haughty Stannis was standing there with a blade of flame in his hand and contempt in his eyes. Her son Joffrey, her darling boy, his body falling into a shadow that was so deep nothing inside could be seen. Myrcella's body, used and abused, being tossed onto the flames. Then the fires came for her…

Cersei shuddered awake as someone knocked on her door, gasping in relief as the images faded from her mind. "Who is it?" she barked out, using anger to cover her quaking voice.

One of the keep's maids on the other side of the door replied, her voice stuttering in fear. "Y-your highness, the sm-small council is due to meet in half an hour. Y-you asked to be told?"

"Yes, well done. Send for my handmaidens to help me dress."

A moment later two young women entered, both Westerlander ladies who had served her for years. They moved to help her out of bed then quickly dressed her, working efficiently and expertly while Cersei simply stared off into the distance, her mind slowly coming out of her post-sleep stupor. Cersei had not been sleeping well lately to say the least.

Almost every night she had dreams like that, of fire and shadow, of rising floods, of simple elemental forces coming to claim her and her family, or of Stannis and Renly and the dragons killing them. Sometimes the dreams were intermixed with more positive images, of Myrcella standing with a wolf made of gold and blue flame and silver dragon against the shadow, or of her and Joffrey standing over the two Baratheon brother's bodies. But most of the time they were far nastier than that.

She knew what was behind these of course. Varys had confirmed that Stannis burned his enemies at the stake at times, and that he had given himself over to the worship of the R'hllor. His victories down in the Stormlands had even reached the news of the smallfolk, as was the news his army was marching out from Duskendale. He was moving slowly but he was coming with fire and shadow.

Even her brother was taking those rumors seriously now. In consultation with Varys who had travelled in Essos, and the grand maester, he had scoured the city for any Valyrian steel he could find, coming up with four knives and a single sword, which had been stored in the High Septon's own treasure vault. Jaime bought it off the Fat Man for a king's ransom, but it was worth it if they worked on the Shadow creatures as they were supposed to. Yet even Jaime knew that was scant comfort.

So it was no wonder that Cersei wasn't sleeping well. She had even attempted to cozen Joffrey, keeping him close. Her brave lion however didn't have any of her fears about the future, and complained about it being confining, but put up with it for her sake.

Despite that Cersei refused to relinquish all control to Lord Serret, and wanted to always be present when decisions were made even if these days she didn't really have much input into them. The time for politicking and the game of influence had subsided. Now it was the organization of the city and preparation for war that dominated the small council, areas where Cersei's knowledge was sorely lacking.

OOOOOOO

Cersei was not the only one who was being summoned to the small counsel. Petyr too was being summoned, and he wearily got out of bed. Normally the small counsel would have met in the afternoons, but Rupert was one of those deplorable people who enjoyed getting up in the mornings and demanded that everyone around them get up as well.

Yet that was not the biggest change that had occurred since Lord Serret had arrived in the city. Lord Serret was now firmly in control of the small council and the city, his men and the backing of Cersei and Jaime as the King's Hand allowed him to run roughshod over every other faction in the court and the various smaller powers throughout the city. Petyr was pleased with some of that, since it had cut the knees out from under quite a few of the merchants and thus allowed him to expand his holdings in turn. However, his power on the small council had slipped badly.

Rupert was very blunt in stating that he did not trust Petyr or Varys and had stated their positions were not secure, indeed he seemed to nearly be waiting for an excuse to remove either of them. He also had them watched all the time. Of course Petyr could slip such watchers easily enough and he had no doubt that Varys could do the same but even so it had curtailed his activities.

And of course I still can't get out of the city! He thought to himself as he grabbed up a cup of mulled wine that one of his servants had prepared for him then splashed his face with warm water from the washing basin to further wake himself up. I need to get out of the city and head to the Vale!

The last message from Petyr's agents there had said that the Vale was slowly slipping into anarchy. With only Lysa at its head House Aryn wasn't strong enough to command the other noble houses of the Vale any longer, and word of the fall of the Three Sisters had reached both his ears here and the Vale proper, causing much consternation and anger. Despite only being nominally under the command of the Vale at the best of times it was still technically part of the Vale lands, and the Houses there resented the Northerners annexation of them, and their own inability to field a navy that could do something about it.

If I was there I could use that,Petyr thought angrily, pounding one hand on the porcelain washing basin as he stared at his reflection, absently noting the new wrinkles under his eyes. There's only so much I can do from here, even if my factors there are among my most loyal and capable. Lysa herself should've been a perfect pawn, but without him personally being there to give her orders, that wasn't possible. Instead she had descended into a paranoid sort of madness that saw enemies around every corner.

But Serret refused to even consider sending him, and the news that had reached them yesterday was an example of the reason why. It was also probably why the small counsel was being summoned, though what Petyr could offer to such a discussion he didn't know.

Enough, Petyr thought looking at himself still in the frame of the mirror. "Enough," he said aloud. "That plan is no longer viable, and I have to let it go at least for now. I need to regain some power in the city, and I need to make certain that I keep it."

I also need to begin to think of moving against Serret. It's obvious that he is merely waiting for an opportune moment to remove me, and he won't use the law or anything else, he'll simply order me killed. He's pragmatic like that. That thought was almost grudgingly respectful. Rupert Serret was not a politician, and refused to play that game or to care about who had what information or knew who had skeletons in their closet or anything of that nature. If he had to clean out the corruption of the city, he would start by mounting Varys and Petyr's heads over the Golden Gate.

But the only way I can offset his influence is by influencing Joffrey further. Petyr shuddered a little. Like most people who have no morals of their own, there were some things that still repulsed him. There should be pleasure in an enemy dying, but there should not be pleasure in the torture of random people. But that might be the only card I can play now! My power as master of the coin isn't enough now and my paid-for Houses aren't powerful enough to give me security from Serret, not if he can call on the crown...With a sigh, he pushed himself away from the wash basin.

The small counsel gathered in the queen's meeting hall, finding Lord Serret already sitting at the head of the table. He rose as Cersei entered with them, bowing his head to her. "Your Highness," he murmured. She nodded her head slightly to him, then sat down in the seat alongside his.

When they all sat Rupert began without preamble. "Jaime and I sent out scouts on two days journey for a man over the Blackwater, and a few of them reported back late last night. There is an army marching slowly towards the city. It's flying the Baratheon and Tyrell banners, so we can assume that we will be facing a siege within a week and a half. How are we set for food?"

Jaime smiled thinly from where he sat next to his sister wishing, not for the first time that they dared take some time just for themselves. But with his position in the city defense and commander of the Kingsguard and her own duties, plus her desire to have Joffrey near her as much as she could, they simply didn't have the time, not even for a quick one. "We're better than we were thanks to you sending out men to the nearest castles and demanding food from them the moment you arrived."

That wasn't the only addition to the defense that had occurred since Serret's arrival. More Crownlands forces had arrived to reinforce the city, all of them carrying their own supplies. Byrch, Buckwell, Cressey, Edgerton and Harte had all sent men, amounting to a little over three thousand, five hundred. This had given Lord Serret enough men to send them out into the countryside in search of foodstuffs and scouts to watch for the approach of Renly's army.

"We're still not in a very good position though, the city is simply a massive sieve for food. The pirate fleet's blockading of the port has only made worse a problem that began months ago when food stopped coming in from the Reach. The nearby Crownlands are barely able to feed a quarter of the city's population, and until we put one in place there was no centralized system of distribution. We lost control of at least half the foodstuffs coming into the city while we were still organizing the food depots." Petyr spoke up.

"The ration system is not making us many friends, true." said Varys nodding his head in agreement. "The smallfolk resent us both coming and going as it were. They resent the need for the ration system that they blame on the nobles, and they resent us for the ration system itself."

That had been one of Lord Serret's major changes since he had taken command of the small counsel. The Goldcloaks had moved through the city, taking command of the grain stores and the rest of the foodstuffs that had been built up in the city here and there. All of the foodstuffs thus found had been gathered in a few nodal points, those points under control of a few of the Noble Houses that had rallied to the crown's defense. The smallfolk were then forced to come to them for food, or fend for themselves. Needless to say, the lowest echelon, and indeed much of the middle class, did choose to fend for themselves, making the ubiquitous 'bowls of brown' the primary food for parts of the city and not just Fleabottom.

The depots were all commanded by Lord Edgerton, who had become one of the crown's staunchest supporters, bringing nearly a thousand men to defend the city. He had even become a friend of Joffrey's since his arrival because of shared interests, though only Petyr had an idea of what those were. Serret was aware that Joffrey seemed to be building his own faction among the men in King's Landing, but felt that, since those willing to follow him outnumbered them four to one, that it was simply good practice for him.

Edgerton and his house were doing a decent enough job keeping the smallfolk somewhat fed for now while also making certain the armsmen and Goldcloaks got enough to keep their strength up. That would change once the city was truly under siege, but it was good to have the template in place already.

So the defenders would have enough food for a time, which was all Rupert cared about. "Take care of the defense of the city, then when the war is over throw enough gold at the city-folk and they'll love you again." He had said when he created the food depot plan.

Rupert and Jaime took command of the meeting then, passing between them suggestions and orders for the army and the disposition of the defenders, including Varys and Cersei only when they began to talk about the numbers the enemy might be fielding, if any of the merchants in the city had ties to the Tyrells or the other families from the Reach or Stormlands, and if any of them had connections to the much reduced court.

Serret ordered every gate but the Gate of the Gods shut, with stones and rubble piled in front of them. That still left the houses on the outside of the walls as defensive cover, but Cersei spoke up then, telling Rupert about how the Pyromancers had been hard at work well before the 'Stark's attempted treason', making a certain substance. Some of it had been sent North to the Wall, but more of it was still stored inside the city, available for use.

All the while Petyr watched, worried and at last… decided.

OOOOOOO

With Cersei busy that afternoon helping Lord Serret write up the proclamations for the city to further organize it for the coming siege, Joffrey was for once able to have a midday meal without his mother there.

Petyr heard of this, and his decision having been made, acted on it with alacrity. "I note your highness that the queen is not with you this afternoon?" Petyr said, sitting across from Joffrey and pulling a plate of dried meat towards him.

"Now she isn't thankfully. I realize that she is worried about me, and she should be of course with coming troubles but I am a man grown." Joffrey said slightly pouting though there was something dark rather than childish about it. "And of course I'm not allowed to head out of the Red Keep at all, let alone out of the city. There's only so much I can do to occupy my time here in the Red Keep."

Not that Joffrey hadn't found some ways of enjoying himself even so. There were now several prisoners who would not leave the dungeons with all the body parts they went into them with, and he had butchered several dogs as well, imagining them to be those damned direwolves of the Starks. He had actually enjoyed that though surprisingly not as much as watching the heart tree in the godswood cut down on his orders, knowing how Ranma and the other northern heathens viewed the monstrous trees. It had actually one him some small praise from the High Septon and a few of the devout, though certain other acts had worked against that.

"I can understand that, especially with Lord Serret handling the duties of the small counsel so ably giving you even more time to your own devices. No doubt you are becoming bored?" Petyr asked blandly, looking around.

"Quite yes, I have taken to exercising as much as I can, yet that too is rather dull." Joffrey asked, now with his eyes locked on Petyr's face, sudden supposition flickering in them. "Do you know of any amusement that can be had?"

Petyr leaned forward slightly, smiling as he noticed that the only servants in sight were those answering to him, and that Joffrey's Kingsguard were the only ones within hearing. "Well it would depend on your ability to keep silent. I would not wish to get in trouble with the Queen Regent for putting you in danger."

"That will not be an issue." Joffrey replied, nodding his head slightly over to where his chosen guards were standing by the doorway. "So long as the entertainment is worth my time of course."

"I'm certain we can find something that will peak your interest." Petyr said, while the inside of his stomach began to crawl as Joffrey's eyes lit up with eagerness.

That very evening Joffrey slipped out of his chambers with his two Kingsguards behind him, making their way quickly to Petyr's rooms where they were met by Petyr himself and a few of his own man. "Come this way your highness, and I will show you a bit of a secret."

Petyr lead Joffrey and the others to the nearest passageway murmuring how he had found all the passages of the red keep, and how a few of them could even take one outside the red keep. "Of course, most of them can only be opened on the inside, or else they would be a deadly weakness in it a siege of the keep but they can be used to get you out into the city where any kind of pleasure you wish can be found, if you know where to look and how to hide…"

OOOOOOO

Ranma's army was able to move far faster than the Westerlands forces, which was why that by the time Tywin's army was on the move Ranma and his army had already arrived at castle Shawney. They were spotted hours out, and outriders had gone forward to mark their passage so when the gate opened they were greeted by cheers from both the smallfolk and the armsmen around them.

Lord Shawney came out of his keep to greet Ranma and the others personally as they dismounted in the center of his castle. Not the entire army of course, the castle wasn't big enough to house that many men, even after Ranma had sent Jon and his forces off back at Fairmarket. Ranma, the wolfsworn and the other lords however could be housed in relative comfort. Daenerys joined them after making sure that the dragons were still hiding in the carts assigned to them, with Fenris and Nymeria watching them alongside Merry.

Silas Shawney was a swarthy man of average height and build yet seemed to have a nervous sort of energy to him, his hands and fingers constantly twitching. The stamp of Essos however was easy to see in his tan and a small tattoo on his bared upper arm showing the flag of the Windblown which he must've served with at some point. His grip was strong and his eyes calm when he nodded to Ranma. "Glad to see you my Lord, for many reasons." He looked over taking in the wolfsworn with a glance, nodding cordially to them all.

"It is good to meet you Lord Shawney, though I wish it could be under better circumstances." Ranma replied shaking the man's hand firmly. "Do you have any new information about the Lannisters and their movements?"

"I'm afraid not" Silas replied shrugging. "I pulled nearly all of my men into my castle after we retreated here, and I'd ordered my smallfolk to be ready for a similar move before I left for the ford in the first place. Still, come inside and you can tell me what our future plans are."

Daenerys joined the group as they were walking up the staircase to the dining hall and Lord Shawney looked at her quizzically before, when the door closed behind them, she pulled back her hood revealing her hair and eyes.

Silas' eyes widened and he bowed formally. "You must be Daenerys Stormborn. I heard about you while I was in Essos several years ago. The tales said you were growing into an amazing beauty, I am amazed that rumor was understating things for once." He glanced at Ranma and then across at Jason Mallister who he knew had suffered losses under the Mad King. "Though your presence here is astonishing to say the least."

Ranma chuckled, slapping the man on his shoulder. "You don't know the half of it." Then, with Hathan and Ser Barristan on guard outside the door, Ranma outlined what had been occurring, as well as his in Daenerys's position.

After he finished Shawney looked at him contemplatively. "I can't say I'm enthused about the return of the Targaryen dynasty my lords, but I won't jump to conclusions about you personally either Your Highness." he said almost unconsciously using the royal address. "However, my oaths are to lord Tully and I will Seven as my witness keep to them. You are his representative, and if something happens to Edmure you'd be Lord Tully's heir in any event so I will follow you."

"However, I can't give you that many men." He grimaced angrily. "My men and I were hammered hard in our retreat from the ford, and I'd like to retain a strong force here to defend my family and our smallfolk. May the Father strike down Vypren for his betrayal!"

"We'll be crushing that toad soon enough my Lord, in fact if we can swing it that'll be where we'll strike next." Ranma said grimly. "I don't really need that many men of yours. A hundred or more who know the lay of the land and are fit enough to travel quickly will be enough."

"Those I can give you and I'll go lead them personally. My castellan is one of my former subordinates from my time in Essos, he can keep the castle in my stead."

"Then, tell me what you know about Tywin's forces." Ranma said looking down at the map. "We'll see if it matches what we already know. Then tell me where the nearest place where we can put a barge in the Blue Fork."

It turned out that the Blue Fork actually dipped slightly nearby coming much closer to House Shawney's seat than Ranma had thought it did going by the map. Thus it was decided that the Army would split again there. Daenerys would take seven hundred men from the North and a thousand men from House Mallister as protection led by Lord Mallister and Smalljon plus the carpenters to the Blue Fork where they would create enough rafts to get the men down the river. She would then go across at the Ruby Ford, linking up with the rest of the army under Brynden and Greatjon, then begin discussion with the Houses there.

Jason would ostensibly be in charge of the mission, or at least would be the visible person giving out orders, while Daenerys would remain with her dragons keeping them under cover. The two of them had been flown to exhaustion every day on the march from Fairmarket so would hopefully be willing to remain undercover once they were within sight of the defensive bulwarks that the Riverlanders had thrown up on the Ruby Ford.

Who else was going with her however engendered some discussion.

"What do you mean you're not coming with us?" Daenerys asked slowly, looking at Myrcella in shock. "I need you along to watch over Rhaegon and Sunfyre when I can't for one reason or another, you and Fenris are the only people they'll listen to, and Fenris can't be spared."

"Nor can I, remember my main job isn't to help you with your little ones, I'm in charge of the healers, which will be needed with the rest of the army." Merry replied stoutly, staring back at the older girl, violet and emerald meeting.

"You're assumed job Merry, maester Martyn…" Daenerys paused, remembering her run-ins with the irascible healer, then shrugged. "Alright, he needs someone along to organize things and to make certain he doesn't insult his patients too badly, but that doesn't necessarily mean you."

"But no one else is as good at organizing and can also help him with the actual patients. The men he and I have chosen over the past few weeks can perform their tasks well, but that's not saying much alas."

Daenerys looked at her for a moment, frowning as she took in the set of Merry's shoulders, and the hard light in her eyes. It was clear that she wasn't going to budge on this. Daenerys leaned in slightly, despite the two of them being alone at present, Alayaya was off talking to the castellan for a moment. "This isn't because you don't want to leave Ranma, is it? Because if it is…"

"No!" Merry nearly shouted flushing red, then blushed even further while Daenerys continued to look at her and she went on somewhat self-deprecatingly, but firmly. "I mean, no, I believe that I can do more to help people by staying with the army. Not everything I do revolves around Ranma, I truly do love healing people, and you shouldn't need any help in that regard."

"I see. I could order you, you know I am the presumptive queen in these parts." Daenerys went on staring at the younger girl, wondering why that had even occurred to her, considering that she had known for months how seriously Myrcella took both her duties as a healer and her continued learning in that profession. A flash of jealousy perhaps?

"You could, but you won't." Myrcella replied, reaching forward and hugging the older girl, or was Daenerys now a young woman? When did that change over actually occur Merry idly wondered. Putting that thought aside for now she went on. "You're not like that, you know how much my duties mean to me and besides, you know I'll be safe enough. You, um, you also should know I won't do anything, well anything until you're okay with it."

Daenerys' arms went around Myrcella as well, and she sighed, kissing the other girl on her forehead, deciding to be honest with the other girl. "I know that in my heart, my head says different. My head is telling me to send you back to Winterfell, to keep you away from my husband. But my heart knows that's both not necessary and would be bad for the army's morale given your work."

She smirked suddenly, pulling back just slightly form their embrace. "Not to mention I'd miss your help with my little ones, and that both Ranma and I would miss your company. I trust you Merry, never fear." There was something in her eyes however that said 'don't make me regret this, or else you'll regret it quite quickly.'

Myrcella nodded, both hearing her words and seeing the message in those eyes, not taking offense. If anything, she loved Daenerys even more for her trust, and respected her more for the hidden warning. Rather reluctantly the two girls moved away from one another, then began to repack Merry's bag for her as Alayaya entered the room behind him.

Later that night Daenerys basked in her husband's embrace after their first bout of lovemaking of the night, there would, she was certain, be more. She loved this, absolutely loved this, feeling his chest move under her, his arms around her. Daenerys had seen those hands shatter stone, tear apart men in armor with an ease that should have been terrifying. Yet despite his massive strength Ranma was possibly the gentlest man she had ever even heard of, let alone met. Look at how he treated the ex-Frey children, or Sansa, or Merry, or Daenerys. And at moments like this, Ranma allowed his inner tenderness out with her and his possessiveness too.

She felt a low rumble make its way through her own body as she felt Ranma's hand trace down her back to grip her rear for a moment. That rumble turned into a moan as he began to knead her pliant rear then she laughed as a sudden thought struck her. Ranma's hand stopped its loving ministrations and his other hand gently raised her chin, turning her face up to him, his deep blue eyes laughing at her. "Sorry, did I find a ticklish part or something?"

"No, just a random thought. Besides, even if you had, you don't think I'd actually admit to that, do you?" Daenerys asked, her own violet eyes dancing, and her mouth twitching from a smile to a smirk.

Ranma cocked his head quizzically, and his wife, and by the old gods that felt good even thinking it in his head, laughed again. "Care to share Dae?"

"Oh, I was just thinking being queen and king would probably cut into moments like this, and then I thought that would have been a wonderful reason not to make a grab for the crown, just stay in the North with you like you would have if Tommen hadn't died and the war hadn't begun in King's Landing. Then I imagined my brother's face at the very idea of me using such an excuse and… well it was just funny." Daenerys shrugged. "You can't expect humor to make sense all the time can you?"

Ranma laughed then nuzzled into her hair, moving down the side of Daenerys' face then into her neck, breathing deeply. "Ya know what I think, I think I'm doing something wrong if you're thinking of your brother right now."

With that he began to nip and lick at the side of her neck, and Daenerys could feel herself responding. She moaned her hands tracing their way down his abs to his rising arousal, then lifted one of her legs over Ranma's body, moaning even louder as she felt his length slowly slide into her once more.

Later as Daenerys lay there nearly exhausted she shook her head, slightly irritated for once at Ranma's sheer endurance. Not once since they had married had she felt that she had actually tired him out in bed. It was immensely pleasurable to try, but embarrassing to fail at, striking at her pride as a woman.

Right now however even as Daenerys waved Ranma's hands away from her sensitive breasts pushing him lightly away with one weary thigh, she had something else on her mind. She reached above her, touching his face gently. "You will come back won't you?" For just a moment the queen in the making was utterly gone, taking with her the woman Daenerys was becoming.

All that was left was a young girl, who was, for the first time since they had married, watching her husband go marching off without her. This was vastly different from the time he had left her behind with the army at Moat Cailin as he faced the Freys, this time he would be away for longer, and was facing a much more dangerous opponent, one, moreover, that was one of the boogeymen from her childhood. Admittedly, the Starks themselves had been another one, but the point remained.

Ranma smiled at his wife gently, tracing her face with one gentle finger. "I promise Dae. I'll come back, I promise. We both have our roles to play love, but trust me, whatever else happens, I'll come back to you."

Daenerys nodded, leaning up to kiss him gently on the lips before realizing, as their tongues caressed one another in her mouth that perhaps she wasn't totally exhausted just yet.

The next day Daenerys had to be roused by Merry letting her dragons into the bed she and Ranma had shared. Their morning breath woke her up faster than anything else could have. She groaned, pushing Sunfyre's snout away from her face for a moment, growling as she saw Merry behind them, smirking at her. What threats she uttered Daenerys didn't know, but they were enough to chase Merry off, then she came back with a loaf of fresh bread and some mulled wine and Ranma, who kissed Daenerys one last time, murmuring 'I love you Dae', against her lips, before moving off resolutely to prepare to leave.

Hours later Daenerys was still out of yet somewhat, yet despite this she kept on looking back at the castle and the army marching out heading in a different direction from her own force. Under her, her horse moved on with the rest of the column with no input from her.

"He'll be all right my lady." said Smalljon quietly from where he road next to her on his horse.

"Was I being that obvious?" Daenerys asked wistfully, yawning fitfully every other word, thought her wits thankfully had returned to normal. "I know I am not the only woman to watch her man march off to war, but still, I can't help myself."

"No fear there, I doubt anyone'd begrudge yer worries." Smalljon laughingly replied. Indeed, the obvious love between Ranma and Daenerys was a major morale boost to the army. "Ya shouldn't worry though, the gold humper's army ain't near big enough to kill Ranma. And it's always better ta concentrate on what you can do, rather than worry about what you can't control."

"Philosophy Smalljon? I didn't think you had that in you." Daenerys quipped, looking at him quizzically.

Smalljon laughed. "Oh, I have hidden depths!"

"I don't doubt that, I just thought they were empty." Daenerys replied wickedly and Smalljon guffawed. Nearby Jason rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless, realizing that Smalljon had done that just to break the Queen from her maudlin thoughts. Alayaya joined in quickly, and between the two of them they were able to keep Daenerys' mind off of the danger Ranma and the rest of the army were marching towards.

OOOOOOO

Ranma's army force-marched all day that first day, resting at night and then starting out late the next day before picking up the pace again. They had to keep moving, that was part of Ranma's plan: attract Tywin's attention on him, keep moving, don't get bogged down and brought to a decisive battle. Just like in his last life where he fought Ryoga, Herb or anyone stronger than him, taunt and move.

Of course, that doesn't mean we're not going to be striking back. Ranma thought to himself as he raced alongside Fenris at the head of the army, with Arya and Nymeria on his other side.

When Lord Shawney and the local guides said they were coming into Vypren land, the army rested for an entire day before marching on quickly, covering the remaining distance by marching through the day and night. This put them within striking distance of the castle, though most of the army was too exhausted to take advantage of it. However Ranma and the wolfsworn were not. While the rest of the army rested far enough away from the castle that the defenders didn't realize they were in danger, Ranma and the wolfsworn moved forward.

Fenris stalked through the night, his senses at their highest level. He was one with the surrounding land, even if this wasn't the forest of the North where he had been weaned, much more open, much more shrubbery and small trees rather than the giants that ruled the northern climes. He paused suddenly, one ear pricking up at an odd silence in the cacophony of the forest at night.

Somewhere nearby there was no birdsong, and there hadn't been for quite some time. He moved lightly, circling the area of silent until he stopped sniffing the air slightly. Human, hiding under leaves from a tree, the one humans called oak, hadn't bathed recently.That last was most distinct, and Fenris' nose wrinkled at the smell.

He stalked forward, his movements easy and controlled, not a single sound or whisper of leaves betraying him. The man he was stalking was a veteran thief taker who Lord Vypren had placed in charge of scouting out around his castle after being told he wouldn't be in charge of its defense. The scouts scattered around the castle were supposed to give warning before going to ground. They would then wait until the army surrounded the castle and began to siege it before going to work on doing whatever they could to hamper the invading army.

That was the plan anyway. For this man in particular that plan stopped mattering when he heard a faint rustle in the grass behind him. He turned in his small hide under a covering of oak leaves, expecting to see some small animal or other. His eyes barely had time to widen before he died when Fenris ripped out his throat. The giant direwolf wrinkled its muzzle irritated at the taste. Humans always tasted foul for some reason unless they had bathed recently. Still, stalking like this was fun, even if the outcome was simply killing an enemy rather than feeding his stomach.

Elsewhere Ranma opened his eyes, having ridden Fenris' mind as it stalked through the woods. He stood up, nodding his head to the other wolfsworn around him save for Arya, who he placed on his back since she was too busy with Nymeria to really concentrate on her own body at present. With one raised hand he pointed with two fingers forward, and with Meera in the lead they made their way through the woods.

Eventually they stopped however, and Fenris appeared out of the woodlands around them, while Arya woke up on Ranma's back. She quickly pushed herself away then pointed to one side of the woodlands they were moving through silently, gesturing with five fingers twice to indicate that there were ten enemy scouts in one place, then gestured to her mouth before holding up four fingers, then moved her fingers back and forth, their movement barely visible in the starlight. Then she held up six fingers and motioned as if she was laying her head on her hand like it was a pillow.

Ranma nodded, then pointed at her and then away towards the sound indicating she and Meera should take the lead. Both of them grinned, and with Nymeria in the lead, moved off through the woods moving quietly. Ranma followed quickly with the rest bar Roger and Hathan who had never learned how to move quietly being cavalrymen. The two of them waited several moments before following as quietly as they could move.

They soon came upon the small, very well hidden camp, which looked to be a meeting place for the scouts so that they could get some sleep while their fellows guarded them. There were indeed ten scouts there, six of them asleep curled up by a small fire pit. Four were on guard walking around the perimeter.

While Daryn created a distraction causing one guard to turn in that direction Dacey crept up on him, an arm swiftly going around his throat from behind. With one hand over his mouth and nose and the other arm clamped around his throat she locked her hold in, hanging on beat at her arm futilely, but that faded quickly. Arya and Nymeria took out another guard between them, while Meera took out the one Daryn had distracted, a small skinning knife stabbing into the side of his throat, as her hand went around his mouth and nose.

On the other side of the small camp Ranma had made his way up into the trees, moving from one branch to the other with as much ease and noise as a squirrel. Such a natural sound didn't register on the last guard, who kept on glaring out into the woodlands until he felt a hand grip him around the throat lifting him up into the air and into the trees for a moment. He tried to kick out, but Ranma block it from impacting both himself and the tree as his other arm went around the man's neck in a sleeper hold. A moment later the man was unconscious and Ranma gently dropped him back down to the ground.

I know I should kill him, but by the old gods, I've already got so much blood on my hands and I know that I'll multiply that by ten before this war is over. Killing a man like this, from ambush and when he had no chance against me whatever, no, I'm not willin' to do that. And I hope I never am. He was also unwilling to kill the sleepers. He and the others moved over and thumped them all over the head. Such a blow might cause brain damage, but they would still be alive after this night's business was done.

With that accomplished they tied the survivors to another and a tree then gagged them just in case before the two direwolves took off through the Woodlands again, searching for more scouts. They found a few, but they were all scattered around the castle and fell easily enough to the warging beasts while Meera led the rest of the Wolfsworn towards the castle proper.

It took another forty minutes of travel before they were near enough to see castle Vypren, which was more of a keep really, looking for the watchers they knew would be there. Lord Vypren's castle had a few farms abutting it on all sides, but they were empty, the families inside having moved into the protection of the keep. There were at least three dozen guards manning the wall over the keep's main gate and a further eight men patrolling the rest of the wall in two groups of four. There was also torchlight showing in the two towers on two corners of the keep's wall.

That's actually a good sign, Ranma thought. The watchers are using too many torches, they won't have much in the way of night vision thanks to that. With a gesture he sent Fenris and Nymeria forward to smell out the smallfolk houses between them and the wall. Then Meera led the wolfsworn in a full circuit of the castle, meeting up with the direwolves there, neither group having run into further trouble.

Fenris stalked forward, with Ranma riding his mind as closely as he could to stare up at the wall at the back of the keep, trying to see if there was any movement there that might have been hidden in the shadows the torches. Wolf eyes were of course much better than human eyes at night.

Finally Ranma nodded. Signaling 'wait here' to the others he raced forward, crossing the distance easily disappearing under the Umi-Sen-Ken for a moment. , Once close enough he leaped up grabbing onto the wall halfway up its three stories, then flipping himself further up to grab the edge of the wall. He waited there a moment hanging in midair by one hand as one of the patrolling groups moved around above him. But as he had suspected their torches had killed their ability to actually see out into the darkness, so unless the light hit Ranma directly their odds of actually seeing him were close to nil.

"I tell yas boyo, the Northerners aren't on their way." One voice said, slurred with drink despite being on guard. "They's couldn't even be arfway 'ere from Fairmarket if der army is as big as rumors tell it."

"Yeah, but all of those northern direwolves can run like the damn beasts they resemble." Another younger voice replied morosely, the voice of a constant worrier the sort who aged prematurely. "No telling where they'll show."

"Bah, They'll never want to face us here, we're too strong for them to take quick, and if they take too long, Lord Vypren and the royal army will be crawling right up their asses." A third voice stated dismissively. "Nah, they'll bypass us, count on it."

Tonight is not your lucky night boys. Ranma thought as he hung there, amused. Soon the guards on marching along the parapet moved on, and Ranma slowly, carefully and above all quietly began to pull himself up by his one hand. He waited a moment his other hand having come up and grabbed a hand hold, until the guards were well away along the wall, then flipped himself up and over the wall landing as lightly as he could before leaping down into the castle's courtyard.

His landing however caused a light hiss from the ground in front of his feet, and Ranma froze, staring down at two luminous eyes staring up at him. Ranma raised both hands to his mouth, as he fought back the urge to shriek and jump away. Nonetheless he couldn't stop himself from backing away so abruptly he smacked into the bottom of the wall. Luckily neither the hiss nor the thump of Ranma's back carried very far, but that didn't help Ranma's current predicament. Damnit, a whole new life on a whole new world and I'm still scared of ca…ca… furry demons from hell! I hope Fenris eats you slowly you damned fiend!

The cat was a large fat tabby, his body scarred in places, obviously a cat that had lived it's nine lives to the limits. Right now it was staring at the strange human that had nearly landed on him as he lay there, sleeping off a nice juicy rat he'd found in the guardhouse. It was rather amusing to see a human skitter back from him like that, most of the time all he got from male humans were kicks unless females were around. After a moment however he sniffed haughtily and flounced away, looking for another place to continue his interrupted post-dinner nap.

Behind the tabby, Ranma breathed a sigh of relief still holding his hands over his mouth thankfully else the noise might have been loud enough to give him away then ducked into the corner of the wall between the wall and one of the corner towers. The deeper darkness there covered him while the next patrol passed by over him.

While he waited, Ranma took in the castle's courtyard at a glance. There were no tents anywhere, which meant the men, however many there were, could be kept inside the main keep or the barracks building set next to it along the back wall.

I'd guess at most a thousand or so then, that's a lot for just the wolfsworn, but if we can take the walls and the towers, then we can bring in the rest of the army to help easily enough. Luckily there aren't any signs of people on watch in the keep's upper floors. Also thankfully the keep itself wasn't any taller than the walls, indeed the guard towers on the wall were the tallest portion of the castle.

After they passed, he moved to a small door set into the outer wall of the castle. It was probably a servant's entrance, many older keeps and castles had were several barrows full of stone ready to be dumped down to block it but that had obviously been planned as a last minute defense.

Feeling at the hinges however Ranma noticed that they were badly rusted. He carefully lifted up the wooden bar over the door then began to grease the hinges as well as the lock before gently opening the door. There was a faint squeak and Ranma stopped quickly, looking around then up at the wall. He waited a few more moments for the next group of guards to move away then oiled the hinges again.

After that Ranma waited until the next groups of sentries were coming back along the wall facing away from the small door before opening it quickly. The wolfsworn had already covered the distance one at a time, hiding nearby in the abandoned houses or flattening themselves against the outer wall. With Arya in the lead they entered moving through the doorway while Ranma held it open.

Using the gestures they had developed over the march to communicate at times like this Ranma assigned each of them to a different tower at the four corners, then assigned Dacey and Fenris to wait here, before moving over to the keep's door. Then he gestured to his lips with his fingers, indicating they needed to keep the battle as quiet as possible.

They all nodded, and moved off quickly and silently, using the bushes and trees, which were probably laden with fruit of various kinds, as cover along with any other patch of shadow. Even with the guards patrolling the walls destroying their own night vision with the torches, a classic mistake, they couldn't take chances.

A moment later they were all in position, with Ranma waiting for the next group of guards to pass his current position, the wall across from his former one. A moment later the two of them heard a bit of commotion from the main gatehouse, which Ranma had assigned to Arya, Fenris and Nymeria.

The guards making their rounds above him had only a moment to register it before he had jumped up onto the parapet among them. There was no time now to knock them out, Ranma had to take them down quickly and silently, and that was what he did. His hands flashed out, crushing the throats the two men not holding torches and throwing the bodies of two men over the outer wall, then he turned hands flashing out again.

Two more bodies fell, and Ranma caught their bodies with his shoulders before turning swiftly with them over his shoulders to grab the torches before they could clatter on the parapet. Slowly he lowered the bodies to the parapet, then doused the torches one after another.

The other patrol had entered one of the towers, which had been a signal for the attack to begin. That tower had been assigned to Dacey and Roger. Hathan and Meera was assigned a second, Daryn and Edd a third. Ranma himself rushed on toward the fourth, moving as fast as he could.

The men inside hadn't noticed any of the noises outside, busy getting drunk and playing dice. Still there were ten of them, and again Ranma had to strike ruthlessly lest they have time to raise the alarm. A moment after he entered, Ranma was the only man alive in the guard room. Sighing sadly he shook his head, then resolutely turned away, racing along the parapet to the next guard tower.

Daryn and Roger looked up at him. The guards in this tower had been much more awake, but it hadn't saved them, with the two of them coming up the staircase placing Roger between them and one door to that wall and Daryn able to rush to the door Ranma had just come through. Both men nodded at him, and Ranma leaped down and then off again, arriving at the next tower just as that attack went in, while the two of them ran off to the last tower.

Hathan and Meera came up the stairs moments before Ranma arrived to slam into two men who had been about to rush out to spread the alarm. Ice gutted one man while a kick caved in the other man's face, flinging him back into the room.

Inside Meera stabbed the last of the four men who had been facing them, while Hathan's long sword took the head off of a man who had tried to rush past them out onto the opposite wall from Ranma's entrance. He need wearily at Ranma shaking his head. "They nearly got away for a moment."

Ranma nodded grimly then looked over at Meera, who was shaking a little. This wasn't her first battle, but it was the first one where she was up close and personal with her enemies. "You alright Meera?"

"I'll get there, I suppose. Just, Just different this way you know." The young crannogwoman said, gesturing with her bloody trident for a moment. "Don't worry about me Ranma, my father told me about this, I'll be alright."

Ranma nodded, gripping her shoulder for a moment before moving on. By this point the other tower had fallen as well. Ranma gathered the wolfsworn together, then sent Arya and Nymeria off to the rest of the army, where the remaining mountain clansmen and Karstark men were ready for the call. They were the best at moving silently, the rest of the army would be coming after them. And while waiting, Ranma amused himself by sending Fenris around to see if he could find that damn tabby…

An hour later Rickard and the three hundred men arrived, moving quietly throw the side gate which had been opened once more. They and the wolfsworn entered the barracks, but there luck failed them. A group of guards inside had just woken up possibly to take their turn on watch and shouts of alarm quickly abounded. Yet with the Wolfsworn and the northern army already inside the barracks, and fully armored, the battle was never in doubt.

The defenders held out through the rest of the night despite Ranma trying to call on them to surrender but by the next morning castle Vypren was in Northern hands. They had lost men certainly, over two hundred dead in the vicious fighting in the barracks and the keep itself, but the Riverlands and Lannister men on the other side had died in far greater numbers, only a hundred and fifty surviving to surrender.

Worse however was that Ranma had been forced to execute his first troopers. He and Dacey had battled their way up to the top of the keep where the lord's quarters were, only to find men in Hornwood colors there before them, holding down the lady of the House and a girl who had to be her daughter, a young boy unconscious on the floor. Ranma ripped them off the women then tossed them so hard against the wall they nearly died from that. However they lived to be brought before the army the next day.

Ranma stared out at his army, bunched in so much they couldn't move easily in the courtyard of the castle, his eyes hard as he addressed them. "You all have heard me speak of the penalty for rape or murder. These two men thought that I wasn't serious, or that they would not be caught. They were wrong. They now stand accused of attempted rape, witnessed by myself and Dacey Mormont."

The two men looked over at Daryn and their fellows beseechingly but Daryn stared back, his own eyes dark with fury and they subsided, knowing now that no one would speak up on their behalf. Behind them Ranma raised Ice. "The sentence is death, to be carried out immediately." Ranma swung Ice twice, and two heads fell to the grass of the courtyard to a murmured susurration among the men, though none spoke up.

After that Ranma set fifty men of House Karstark to guard the still shaken lady Vypren and her two children sending them back to Castle Shawney while another seventy from Hornwood took the prisoners in shackles back to lady and her children, both younger than Arya, were to be treated well. While their House would be destroyed for its treachery in backing the invaders, they personally hadn't done anything wrong. Something would have to be done with them in the future, but not yet.

"So do we invest the Castle and wait for Lord Tywin to arrive?" asked Lord Shawney, scratching at his beard thoughtfully, smiling slightly at how Ranma had enforced his discipline so ruthlessly. After an example like that he doubted many men would try anything further for a long time.

"No. Set fire to take out the supports, burn it to the ground." Ranma replied. "Then we'll move on. This was only the first battle of this campaign, we can't afford to be bogged down."

OOOOOOO

Tywin had anticipated Ranma would move to Shawney castle but the speed of Stark's army was much faster than he had anticipated, though his move to attack castle Vypren had startled Tywin, who felt he'd try to move down to the Ruby Ford and across to meet up with the rest of his his scouts, which he had out in their hundreds, had reported that castle Vypren was on fire he had to almost sit on Lord Vypren, who wanted to push ahead with his men, a bare nine hundred, but thankfully they were well back in the army's ranks as they marched.

"I sent a thousand men to secure your castle, yet this is what I hear happens. Who did you leave in command?" Tywin asked Vypren coldly.

"I, I left Ser Orme in charge, my lord. He, he is a knight from the Reach, and I, I thought…" Vypren stuttered, his bravado leaving him. He had raced forward to speak to Tywin the moment the news of his castle's destruction reached him. He had been all aflame to demand that he and his men be let to go ahead of the army but Tywin's face and voice had the effect of being dunked in ice.

"Evidently your belief in his competence was misplaced." Or could Stark have used that weapon he used against the Freys again? No, I can't assume that alas. If he could get into the castle, Ranma's own skills would have let them win the day, possibly even against those numbers against an inept commander. Still, we're close, and if the fool boy is offering me the chance to defeat his army in detail, then who am I to turn him down? Yet, better safe than sorry. "I want the scouts pushed out further, find us the Northern army, but their orders are to report back to us here while keeping in sight of them if possible."

Tywin motioned to his senior commanders. "Plumm, Brax, Lefford, our objective is to find and pin the Northern army then bring our full force down on it. This will not be easy, since the Northerners can seemingly move much faster than ours, but it needs to be done. You will each take a thousand men ahead of the main army on a different angle. If the scouts find them you are to move to engage them while calling in the rest of the army. Take five hundred archers each, use them to try to pin the northerners down but don't try to fight them alone, unless you can entice them to attack you in a position that gives you some chance of turning their numbers against them. Other than that, I'll leave it up to you how you go about doing it."

Daven had pulled out a map of the Riverlands, which was a worse copy than the one Ranma had been using from House Paege, but still accurate enough. "Stark has to know he can't take us on with the numbers he's got, so what is he trying to do?"

"Good question," Tywin said, nodding his head sharply at the younger man. "We'll keep that in mind, and keep track of where the Northern Army tries to march. We will also keep between them and the Red Fork, just in case they are trying to merely pull us out of our defensive position and then attack us from behind somehow. The rest of their forces however are immaterial for now, they won't be allowed to cross the Ruby Ford, not with the Riverlanders over there desperate to stay neutral, and if they march down the Kingsroad, they'll run into the blocking forces we have in Harroway, Darry and the rest."

His nephew nodded, knowing that even if the northerners could move around those defenses, no general in his right mind would willingly leave forces like that in their rear. Tywin nodded in turn and went on. "For now, let's see if we can net the Wild Wolf then spear him to death before going after other game."

OOOOOOO

Barely a week after Petyr had taken another step in his friendship with Joffrey, the combined armies of the Reach and the Stormlands came within sight of the capital walls. Despite his mother's protests, Joffrey rode out to the wall to view the approaching army. With Rupert there to watch over him the queen was forced to concede that it would be good for morale to see the King in attendance. As Joffrey watched, the army spread out slowly across the Southwest on the other side of the Blackwater, not actually coming close to the city yet. "They're not crossing?"

"I ordered the nearest bridges destroyed two days ago, your highness." Rupert Serret said smiling thinly. "This way they'll only be able to attack one side of the city, unless they want to devote enough time to build their own bridges. There was no food crossing them after all, so why not?"

Joffrey nodded officiously, as if he had been the one to come up with the idea and Rupert simply carried it out. "How long do you think?" he asked. "And if that is the case, should we try to meet them on the riverbank?"

"If we had near parity in numbers possibly." Rupert said diplomatically rolling his eyes when he knew the youngster couldn't see them. Joffrey had not impressed him at all, and that comment was part and parcel of why. There was also something all about the boy, something subtle but there nonetheless. Something about the eyes and those rumors he'd heard about how the little bastard treated animals bothered the hell out of him.

Joffrey sighed. "So nothing's going to happen today?" He said, his tone somewhere near a whine and a question. "I'd hoped that they at least would come within range of our trebuchets."

"Thankfully no, we've probably bought ourselves another week or so, and I don't doubt that Renly knows we've built trebuchets, it isn't hard to realize where the outer range of them would be and stay out of it. Frankly Your Highness, I'm hoping that Lord Stannis arrives soon, and the two of them battle it out weakening one another before either think of attacking us here."

Joffrey smiled, liking the idea of getting to of his enemies to fight and kill one another. "An excellent idea." He enthused, then sighed again turning away. "But one that we can't do anything to bring about. I'm going to head back to the Keep."

Rupert's prediction was proven correct as it did indeed take the combined army five days to build a makeshift bridge that was strong enough for them to send troops across. Soon after that however, they had invested two-thirds of the city's landward area, well out of siege range for now, but building their camps and preparing for battle to come, while teams of carpenters and levy forces were sent south to the kingswood.

Soon after that, a messenger was spotted coming towards the outer walls, coming straight down the Gold road. Below the white banner of parley flew his own, a white dolphin on aquamarine. Cersei actually had to think for a moment to remember the house that was from: Lowther, a knightly house sworn to the Tyrells whose lands were northeast of Highgarden. "In other words, someone who wouldn't be worth anything to ransom, but someone with connections all the same," she explained to Lord Serret, who had never made a study of the Reach houses.

The Lion Gate was open for him, and he was escorted through the city up to the Red Keep. Ser Lowther, the head of that house, was a young man of Renly's age, though he didn't run in the same social circles. Renly had chosen him because the youth had impressed Renly on his eye for detail, and because he was unassuming, plus, as Cersei had guessed, not important enough for anyone to try and capture. Renly had impressed upon all his commanders how dishonorable Joffrey was, as well as Cersei, so even the Stormlands lords with him, all of whom felt they could have done the job much better 'than this nobody', didn't make waves.

Ser Lowther knew why he had been chosen but he didn't let it bother him. Instead he did what he did best, notice things. He noticed both the numbers of the defenders and the glaring looks from the smallfolk, and paid particular attention to the fact that he only saw a few inns and taverns open, and none of the food carts that usually lined many of the main roads of King's Landing.

After being searched thoroughly for hidden weapons Ser Lowther was allowed into the King and Queen Regent'spresence. Of course Lord Serret was there as well, standing beside the large, gaudy, and above all, padded, chair that sat at the foot of the Iron Throne which Joffrey used as his throne.

No matter what he tried, the Iron Throne was simply uncomfortable to sit on regardless of the number of pillows you try to place on it. So he had commissioned this work of art. His throne was made of oak, with gold paint and glass gems studding it here and there, the padding a vibrant Lannister red. Of course it was merely a stopgap, Joffrey planned to replace the Iron Throne as soon as the war was over and commission a throne made with real gold and gems, but his mother had convinced him weeks before Serret arrived they could not afford the expense at the moment.

Cersei said next to him a small, much less ostentatious chair, as befitted her status as Queen Regent. Along one wall waited the rest of the small council, and the Kingsguard were stationed both at the door and on either side of the royals. Jaime had made certain that his appointees were mixed equally with Joffrey's just to make certain nothing would happen. He was concerned with how fanatic Joffrey's chosen appointees were to his orders and Joffrey wasn't the most diplomatic of kings after all.

Ser Lowther took the throne room in at a glance, then bowed formally holding out his missive at after standing upright again, deliberately facing Cersei rather than Joffrey. "Your Highness, I am here under token of parlay to share with you King Renly the First's…"

Joffrey scowled angrily. "King Renly! He is no King, I am my father's heir! Your Renly is simply an usurping rebel!"

"Indeed." said the Cersei motioning to one of the Kingsguard to step forward to take the terms from the messenger. Ser Balon did so, passing it over to her quickly. "Even if we were speaking of merely becoming the regent for my son, Renly would not have been considered, his rebellion has nothing backing it in law or custom, so your words, Ser, have no basis in fact."

More than one man there inwardly chuckled at that. After all while some might say Robert's Baratheon's kingship was based on the vaguest of connections to the Targaryen line, it was really about might making right: he won his rebellion and the crown. Renly was simply attempting the same.

Cersei opened up this roll of parchment and began to read while the messenger replied to her words. "We believe otherwise, we believe that the fact that King Robert, forever hallowed be his name, named Renly as Lord of the Stormlands means that he would have wished Renly to be his heir. And Joffrey is illegitimate, one only has to look at him to know that."

"I should have you flayed alive for that!" Joffrey shouted, bounding out of his chair. Rupert's hand however clamped down his shoulder pushing him down while Jaime glared at Ser Blount and Ser Buckwell who had made to move forward at their King's bellow. Both of them backed away, taking their hands off their hilts.

Joffrey shrugged off Rupert's hand but remained sitting, glaring angrily at the messenger. "That is slander! Lord Stannis has always hated the fact that Robert had children, and hated the fact that my father loathed him! The Starks too thought that none of us were legitimate, but it was a power-play, nothing more! I am the lawful heir to Robert Baratheon that is indisputable, as is the fact that any who follow Renly or Stannis have broken their oaths to House Baratheon!"

"Indeed," Cersei said, looking up from the parchment to stare hard at Ser Lowther. "The evidence of the Maesters in Oldtown do not match with the Maesters here and in that of House Baratheon lands themselves have found. There have been numerous occasions where Baratheon looks did not breed true. We have proofs here, and can send for more from Storm's End."

Those proofs were forgeries, all maester Pycelle's work and Varys, and of extremely good quality. The Baratheon looks not breeding true was still rare, they could do nothing with the vast majority of the names the Maesters in Oldtown provided as proof of Cersei's infidelity, but there were a few names of children in marriages to other houses, and one or two in past Baratheon and Lannister marriages where they had been able to… modify the history to serve their ends. Varys had even been able to get copies out to a agent of his, who would pass it on to another in Storm's End where it would be placed in the historical tomes there.

"Thus, let us face facts, Ser Lowther. Lord Renly is simply ambitious, he grasped that bit of calumny from Stannis and from the Starks to give him a reason to rebel. Everything else is simply excuses to cover his act of treason. As for your lord's offer of terms, I reject them utterly." These are not terms you give to an equal, these are terms you give to a supplicant! Full capitulation, opening the city's gates immediately and offering my son and myself up as hostage to my father's good conduct! To freely admit to that spurious bit of propaganda, never!"

Cersei's voice had become strident for a moment, but she controlled herself with difficulty before going on. "However I have a counter offer. Not for Renly Baratheon, his actions are inexcusable and nothing can change that. No, my offer is to the Reach and House Tyrell. The Reach has not done my family any true harm as yet, and there is no need to do so now since, according to rumor, the alliance between House Tyrell and House Baratheon has not yet been made permanent."

She held up a hand to one of her handmaidens who was standing obediently along the back wall. The woman moved forward, placing a roll of parchment in Cersei's hand which she in turn handed toSer Lowther after motioning the Kingsguard to let him come close. "Because of that I offer my son's, the King's, hand in marriage to Lady Margaery."

"I believe that will give Mace exactly what he wants, his little girl on a throne, and moreover I can guarantee the marriage will actually produce an heir which will not occur if she is forced to marry Renly. His preferences are known to me and to most of the royal court. Or is there some other reason why he has not married the girl already? She was certainly a beautiful young lady the last time I saw her here in King's Landing, why any young man should jump at the chance, irrespective of what her hand brings in terms of alliance."

Actually, Cersei was slightly understating things. Margaery had been a magnificent young lady when she was here, and if not for Robert Cersei would have quickly changed the marriage contract to her rather than Sansa in a heartbeat. Moreover, she knew there was a brain in that pretty little head, so above and beyond the strength of the house that it would bring into alliance with the Lannisters the marriage itself would probably be a good one.

She was not about to mention the fact Joffrey had passed a law allowing for the royal house to practice polygamy however. That bit of idiocy had infuriated her when she first found out about it, but he had passed it so quickly, with Varys and Petyr's help for some reason weeks before Serret had arrived, and it had passed with nary a whimper from the Faith, that she hadn't made an issue of it.

Since then she had found out why that was: Joffrey had promised that the law would only remain on the books for one generation, and that he would, upon winning the war against the Starks, use it to gain a foothold in the North, from which he would begin to convert the north to the Faith, by the sword if need be. That, the rumors about Renly's preferences, and the rumors quickly becoming fact about Stannis and his own faith, had won him and the throne the support of the High Septon and the Most Devout, which would be of immense value in the long term.

"If Mace agrees to my terms, all he need do is to retreat from this battlefield. Go home to the Reach, we understand that his realm is having issues of its own right now after all, and we would like our new ally to see to his own… House." She smiled thinly as did Varys and Petyr from where they stood along the wall.

Ser Lowther looked at her in puzzlement, not understanding that. The news of Willas and his campaign along the western front had not reached the army, nor had the news of the destruction of the Shield islands and the Arbor. But they had reached Varys, and he had shared them with the small council. He had not shared the arrival of Viserys or anything from Dorne however.

After a moment the man realized that Cersei wasn't going to say anything more and he bowed stiffly. "If that is your final word I will take my leave."

Joffrey nodded, having lost much of his anger in the face of his mother's cool control of the moment. "You may go, I hope that the next time we see one another that you have learned to curb your tongue when it comes to certain rumors, and that you bring good news from House Tyrell."

Ser Lowther bowed again stiffly then retreated from the throne room. The moment the door closed behind him, Rupert turned to Cersei. "That was well done your Majesty, though I wish you had talked to me about it before this. It'll give Mace something to think about, and the Reach forces outnumber the Stormlands two to one or more. But did you really think they would be able to break off?"

"Of course not." Cersei said waving one hand in the air. "It would be nice if the two armies out there were to separate, but I doubt they will. No, I wanted to give him something to think about, both him and his people."

She looked over at Varys who took his cue. "His Majesty is correct, with the issues that the Reach are facing on their own ground, their second echelon will not arrive here at full strength, if at all. The western front is in danger of being overwhelmed by what should have amounted to only a probing attack, the Shield Islands are gone as is the Arbor, and many of the lord's out there must worry about their homesteads now especially those fools who took nearly all their forces to war."

"Moreover, Renly has not exactly covered himself with glory since his little rebellion began. And I was speaking the truth, while for most men the Lady Margaery would be a prize almost beyond any, it is patently not so to Renly. Worse, Mace, or at least his mother Olenna, will realize that if Renly cannot perform in bed, that this will not be the last war of succession the realm faces. If there is not a clear line of descent, there would be room for others to argue the point especially with the precedent that has already been set here." Cersei concluded.

And before this with Robert's Rebellion,Varys thought to himself snorting internally at the sophistry of Cersei. Still, it was all to the good from his perspective. The more the Westeros houses fought one another, the more they weakened themselves before his true patron could take the field. He would have preferred things to not have come to open warfare, stability was what he really craved. But House Baratheon had never offered that, not with their throwing off all precedent by taking the throne from House Targaryen while doing all they could to butcher that line, and that didn't even consider the fact that the dragons had returned. With them the Targaryen Dynasty would be secure once more, regardless of which dragon took the throne.

"She is a beautiful young lady." Joffrey mused his eyes lighting up. And thanks to that law I passed I can have my cake and eat it too. I wonder if I should keep Ranma alive just long enough for him to watch as I take his sister, or make his head a wedding present to her? Those images caused an atavistic thrill to go through him, and he felt himself respond. Controlling himself with difficulty he vowed to head out to the city that evening and find something to use up some of his energy.

"What are the odds that Lord Tyrell will go for it though?" Rupert said looking at Cersei. "I've only met Mace once that after Roberts Rebellion, so I don't have a very good idea of his personality."

"Bluff, arrogant, childish, rather stupid." Cersei said succinctly. "That is his attitude my Lord. However, his stupidity will work against us here. He'll think he holds all the cards, simply because his army is the largest, and he will assume that a bird in the hand as it were is better than two in the field. No, I'm rather afraid that this was simply something to give him thought, their army will need to suffer severe casualties before he thinks about truly backing away from his current alliance with Renly."

OOOOOOO

Renly received Ser Lowther in his command tent, a large affair that was three times the size of any of the common type used by the rest of the army, and was silk rather than cotton or wool, a gift from one of the more southern Reach houses. He, the Rainbow Guard, and his advisers were all there when Ser Lowther returned, drinking and laughing amused at how the Lannisters hadn't even tried to contest their crossing the river, a sure sign that they didn't have the numbers to beat off a real assault of the city.

Only Randyll was silent at that. Seeing that even his fellow older lords believed that was the case, he knew it would serve no purpose for him to naysay it now. He was mindful of the Olenna's 'suggestions' as well: "let the young fool get blooded, let him see what the real world is like, then if he falters, step in and take control." She had even given him a message to give to Mace upon that occasion.

While he didn't know it that message simply said "shut up and let the true warriors take over!" Short, simple and to the point, which Olenna had always felt was the best way to get through with her son's thick head.

When he heard that his terms had been rejected Renly shrugged philosophically. "I thought that was a long shot, but I had to try. It certainly would've made bringing the rest of the Lannister force to heel much more easily."

Unnoticed Randyll shook his head. If it were up to him, he would never have marched on King's Landing this quickly, not with the full army they had at least. No, he would have immediately assaulted the southwestern front of the Westerlands. With most of their forces in the Riverlands they would be open to an attacking force, and that would neatly remove the long term power base of the Lannisters. Of course besieging Casterly Rock would have been difficult, but putting the rest of the Westerlands to the torch wouldn't have been hard, and might have forced the other Westerlands Noble Houses to overthrow Tywin if he seemed to be reluctant to turn around and face Randyll in the open field.

Now I can only hope that the wolves hold the Lannister army in place at least. Given the size of the two forces, Randyll had decided that the Starks couldn't really defeat the Westerlanders, not completely. But they could hold them in place which would be just as good for the Reach.

"I could have wished that Cersei would see reason but it isn't as if we weren't prepared for a siege. Start building the siege weapons, Lord Cafferen, you are in charge of that. Lord Tyrell, I believe we should also spread the army out all around the city just in case. After that, we'll launch a few probing attacks using our light cavalry and archers before our siege weapons are ready. That way we'll be able to see of the defense has any weaknesses we can exploit, a commander on one wall or the other that isn't as quick to react as he should be or something of that nature." Renly went on.

Even in that he shows his lack of experience, Randyll thought darkly. Probing attacks on walls like that very rarely worked if the defense had enough men, archer assaults could work if you could keep them up long enough, but we don't even have wooden palisades for our own archers yet, while the parapets would provide the defenders cover of course.

Loras spoke up. "Wait a moment my liege. Ser Lowther said something interesting, that the city is already showing signs of a food shortage. I think the defenders might be weaker than we thought. So instead of doing probing attacks, let's set simply spread the army out, lull them into a false sense of security for a few days, make the defenders think that we'll wait until our siege weapons are ready before attacking. Then we send in a night assault. Or better yet, send it in right away, this very night on a segment of the wall that we haven't encircled yet!"

"An excellent idea!" Renly enthused. "If we can get through the outer wall of the city, then we can push them back into the Red Keep and besiege them there! And the Red Keep isn't nearly as tough a nut to crack as the rest of the city."

Mace nodded, looking proudly at his son, ignoring the official document Ser Lowther had passed to him outside the tent. "I agree, an excellent idea my boy! And, once we break the walls defenses, the smallfolk of the city will no doubt rise up. If they are already feeling the pinch against the Lannisters, cutting off the defenders on the wall."

The idea of relying on smallfolk made Randyll sneer internally, but it sounded as if it made sense. Of course that suppose that the defenders are idiots, and Rupert Serret isn't an idiot, nor is Jaime Kingslayer. Randyll looked around noticing everyone's enthusiastic expressions. I'm not going to win this argument, let's see if something can be done with it. "I agree the idea of launching a night attack is a good one my lords, but I think we should add a little more to Ser Loras' most excellent suggestion…"

Over the next few days Renly's army spread out around the northern edge of the city, still staying well out of siege weapon range while they built their own from wood taken from the Kingswood. The main concentration of the army faced the Lion Gate but they sent tendrils out covering all of the landward sides of the city. A second heavy concentration was built on the other side of the Blackwater as well, while scouts were sent down every road leading into the city. For the most part over the next few days there was no rush to battle, no skirmish. The besiegers simply enclosed the city while waiting for their siege weapons to be finished.

After a few days of lulling the defenders into a false sense of security, Renly ordered the sneak attack Loras had thought up. Lord Tarly however had added quite a bit to the plan, though Renly and the other Lords had not listened all of his suggestions.

Shanty towns had sprung up all around the city pressed up against its walls, most of whom were worse than even Fleabottom save the areas closest to the main gates. These shanty towns were empty of people yet they remained standing around most of the city. Though Renly and the others could see where work had begun to tear them down starting from the Gate of the Gods and moving out from there.

Now two catapults that had been built in the kingswood came forward, taking up a position at the outside of their own range in relation to the wall on the other side of the Blackwater. There they began to fire at the walls. At the same time streams of infantry made their way forward along the river's edge into the Fishmarket. This included thousands of the army's archers, who took up cover everywhere they could in the houses and former market stalls to fire at the defenders on the wall who had already begun to fire at them.

Behind the walls, the massive trebuchets were painstakingly turned on their axis as watchers on the wall began to shout out aiming information about the attacking catapults. The man on the trebuchet had practice fired them before, and all of them from the watchers to the men turning the huge things around knew their jobs.

While that battle was going on the southern side of the city, Loras was leading a small elite force of around two thousand men from the portion of the army nearest the Iron Gate. They moved as quietly as they could, entering the shanty town there. Here it was even grubbier and shabbier in comparison to any of the others, since the road out of this gate was the least used, and the area was also where a lot of the trash from the city tended to accumulate thanks to the tide of the bay.

They moved this quietly as possible, and didn't follow any kind of set order or path as they moved forward, barely keeping inside of one another. That was how Loras found himself at the back of the unit when he had started for the front. He felt himself wondering idly if the inhabitants of the town had fled entirely, or simply fled into the city. If they fled into the city, that simply means more mouths for them to feed, which is all to the good. If they fled entirely, well at least they'll be out from underfoot.

Looking ahead, Loras saw one of his men waving him down, then pointing up at the wall. There looked to be some dozen men still patrolling this portion of the wall, visible because of the light of braziers set here and there along it. Though the men themselves were not near enough to said fires for it to ruin their night vision, and at least a few were attending to the business of watching their front rather than turning to watch the battle occurring towards the harbor. Loras went to ground, lying in the dirt and mud next to a shed of some sort, thanking the Seven he had left his cloak behind.

A moment later the men on the wall turned their attention away, joining their fellows to stare across the city over to where the battle was going on the other side. Getting the all clear signal from one of the men in the lead, Loras stood up dusting himself off before moving around the small hut. Moving circuitously through the shanty town towards the walls, Loras followed his men each of whom were carrying rope ladders, all of them that the army had built in the last days.

Moving around what might have been a very low class stable, Loras came to another one though this one was much better built than most, having some actual stone here and there, plus all the wooden slats actually seemed nailed together. It even had a window. How extravagant. Loras thought to himself, laughing internally. Though why anyone in this pestilential place would want a window is beyond me.

He idly looked inside,cocking his head quizzically as he noticed what looked like a very large container of some kind set directly in the center of the one room that made up the building. It was very large, much larger than any family would need to keep water in, and a family living in a hut like this they wouldn't be able to afford that much wine. The incongruity of it struck him as odd, and he frowned thoughtfully.

Up on the wall Lord Harte was the one in charge of this section. He was angry because he had hoped that the Reach and Stormlanders would attack here so he could use the little surprise that the Queen had come up with to add to the defense. Of course he understood Serret's orders, that such a thing should only be used at the most opportune moment to destroy the most of the enemy it could. But still, a show of force at the very beginning might force the attackers to not try any other physical attack for fear of what might happen.

"There it is again." one of his men muttered, turning back from where he had been looking toward the sounds of battle occurring elsewhere to stare back over the portion of the wall he was in fact supposed to guarding.

"What are you talking about?" barked Lord Harte. "And if I catch any of you turning away from your posts again I'll have you flogged."

Around him his fellows hastily turned back to stare out into the night as alertly as they could appear, leaving the unfortunate armsmen to his fate. "Um, mi-milord I thought I heard something down below, but, but I can't make it out."

Lord Harte looked over the wall as well staring intently into the darkness of the shanty town far below. With the number of buildings down there clustered together so tightly and with no fires down there to see by the odds of spotting anyone moving were almost nil.

However as he leaned against the parapet he heard something as well. "Couldn't be more Stranger- damned squatters could it?"

"Most of them fled when the Queen began to remove the hovels around the God's Gate. Smallfolk might be stupid, but they can see what's happening as well as any."

"Then we might have some attackers moving down there hmmm…." He smiled wickedly. "You know what boys, I think we so need some more light down there." He turned to a nearby archer. "You, see if you can find one of the jugs down there, and light it up."

The man looked shocked for a moment. "Bu-but my lord, that's only supposed to be used on command of the Hand."

Harte growled at the man angrily. "Obey me man, or else I'll have you tossed of the wall."

The archer gulped, but nodded and took out an arrow, fitting it to his string.

Below Loras was still closer to the Blackwater Bay then he was to the city's walls. He was moving slower now, trying to puzzle out the mystery of that jug, and why he had seen two more like it in the last few houses he'd passed. They were worrying him, and he was just about to double back and open one of them up to see what was inside when he saw a fire arrow streak out from the top of the wall, just one. W-What?

Suddenly he heard screaming nearby, and there was a whoosh of flame. He raced around the corner of the building he had been using as cover from the wall, and stopped staring in horror. Wildfire! Those jugs were full of wildfire!

The fire arrow had hit a small jug that had been set in a dark alleyway between two huts, where light couldn't reach even when the sun was high overhead. After all, the Queen didn't want her little surprise to go off early. The wildfire spread quickly, racing up the walls on either side the heat of it igniting two larger jars set inside those two buildings.

Soon a conflagration began, spreading everywhere all around the small shantytown, engulfing hundreds of Loras men, including him. But Loras was still well away from where the fire began, and he was wearing full plate armor. It had made moving quietly through the night difficult, but now it protected him from the heat of the fire for a little bit as he turned, racing away and towards the water of the bay. He was almost there when a splash of wildfire impacted his armor from the back and side, covering his back plate, shoulder and a portion of his helmet with the noxious substance. He screamed as the heat from the flame quickly began to penetrate his armor, searing his skin. "GAHHHH!"

Coming to the shore he swiftly pulled off his helmet and dove in, trying desperately to put out the fire. "EYYAHHHHH!" It was only when he fully dunked himself in Blackwater Bay that the flames at last went out, but the searing heat from the steam from the water caused him to scream again as it burned him further. Even so, he was able to retain enough sense to push himself out of the water and stumbling north along the shore away from the city.

Thankfully the conflagration had been seen by the rest of the Army, and dozens of men race forward on horseback getting as close as they could to the flames to shout the names of various comrades who had been part of Loras' forces. Several of them saw Loras and raced forward as soon as they saw he wasn't covered in wildfire, pulling him further away then up onto a horse before they tied him there. Then they raced off, taking him straight to a healer.

Having heard about the disaster Renly and Mace raced through the army from their command post near the Lion Gate. It took them several hours to find the tent where Loras had been placed, by which time the healers were working on him desperately, having recognized him the moment he was brought in. One of them turned to the tent flap as Renly and Mace barreled through, a few of the Rainbow Guard following in Renly's wake.

He moved over to them speaking quietly. "My lords, Ser Loras is unconscious at present, we gave him something to keep him comatose while we work. His life is in no danger but…"

"I want to see him." Mace replied, growling the words. "I want to see my son!"

Renly nodded agreement and the healer sighed. "It's not a pretty sight my lords, burn wounds never are especially when they're brand-new, and especially when they are caused by wildfire." The healer spat to one side muttering about how all alchemists should be slaughtered and sent to the Stranger who no doubt would know his own.

"I want to see my son." Mace reiterated.

The healer sighed again but moved to one side allowing them further into the tent. Loras laid on a cot at the far end, along with a few other survivors. There hadn't been many. Caught in the close confines of the shanty town while the wildfire raged all around them they had no place to go. Only the ones on the outskirts in particular the ones nearest the water had survived a bare fifty out of the original two thousand.

Mace choked off a sob as he saw his son. The skin of one side of his face looked badly scalded. Despite not actually having been touched by the flames the sheer heat had done its deadly work. His shoulder too looked raw, as if it was a slab of meat rather than something belonging on a living human.

For his part Renly looked at his lover in shock and horror, shaking his head. "Whatever you need to heal him you will have, healer." he said, looking over at Mace. "Will you wish to stay with him, Lord Tyrell?"

The older man nodded jerkily, and turned to order one of his men to go fetch him a chair. Renly reached over gripping the older man's shoulder, not looking down at his lover again, the sight was just too sickening.

He quickly left the tent followed by his Rainbow Guard. They moved back through the camp towards his tent, his mind almost blank, sickened by what he had just seen. Suddenly this whole affair seemed far more deadly and real than he had previously thought.

Back at his command tent Renly told the other lords gathered there what he had seen. "Needless to say we need to rethink our strategy here. If all of the small shanty towns in the fish market have such traps in them."

"Could the alchemists have made that much wildfire?" Asked Lord Appleton.

"Even a little is too much." Renly barked back, most of his normal easy-going manner having fled him. "We will wait, retain our siege lines and send out scouts to safely dispose of the wildfire jugs before we try another full on assault." He carefully did not look over at Randyll, who had suggested sending in scouts initially, along with the feint idea.

For his part, Randyll was philosophical about things. Yes, he was saddened to hear how Loras had been injured but the loss of 2000 men in an army their size wasn't exactly a high price to pay for Renly being forced to listen to him. It would've been worse of course, but the moment he heard the screams and saw the flickering flames Randyll had sent runners to the commanders of the feint, and ordered them to pull their men back out of Fishmarket. With the trick already played he had no doubt that Serret would have ordered that portion of the wildfire trap to be ignited as well, which would've cost the army much more dearly.

Indeed Serret and Cersei, who had come up with the plan in the first place, had been most angry that it had been sprung with so little return. Lord Harte had been stripped of command of the wall and Serret had Jaime beat him black and blue in a spar for his idiocy.

With none of the lords in any mood to socialize or drink, most of them left Renly's tent quickly after being given their new orders. Only Randyll remained and he moved over to where Renly was sitting slumped on a field chair. Renly looked up at him coldly, but when he spoke, his voice was calm. "So what would you suggest we do now, my Lord Tarly?"

OOOOOOO

Ranma and his army had not been idle since putting castle Vypren to the torch. They had moved swiftly southwest, as if making for House Lolliston's keep, moving as quickly as the army could while not completely exhausting themselves. Thanks to the training the northern contingent had been put through this was decently quick for a force their size even with the Mallister contingent not having gone through the same training.

They were several days travel away by the time their scouts began to find themselves sometimes taking fire.

Well ahead of the rest of the army Meera was racing along the path of the army through the woodlands, with several of her scouts/hunters around her. Here it really was woodlands, scattered dense copses of trees and heavy bushes set on small hills filled with small streams interspersed with flat, open areas, many of which had been farms at one point. Though of course, the farmers had fled long since with numerous armies so close. Farmers tended to be uneducated but they were not stupid, and they could read much more than a change in weather on the wind.

It was interesting territory, very different from any Meera had been through before, but hunting andscouting were the same…At that moment an arrow buzzed by Meera's ear, and she flung herself forward, thanking the old gods for Ranma and Arya's training. She landed, splashing into a small rivulet before rolling while she shouted, "Ambush, 'ware left!"

Another arrow slammed into the ground an inch from her head in the muck of the rivulet, but this time she saw where it was coming from. Pulling out an arrow from her quiver at her thigh, Meera fired back with the recurve bow that she had been given made from the bones of the lizard lion Ranma had killed.

It had a very heavy pull, but she had trained for years on a normal one, and then months on this bow. Her arrow flew out slicing through foliage to bury itself in the chest of the second archer to fire on her just as dozens more arrows flew out from around the same area.

Her scouts weren't all armed with bows, and only one of them had a northern longbow. He ducked behind a tree, holding his bow diagonally for a moment then leaped out, firing back while around them men went down, dead or injured from the sudden arrow assault.

Meera gestured to one of the nearest scouts. "Head back to the army, tell them we've run into trouble!"

The man, a Karstark armsmen, nodded, crouching low and crawling away through the foliage while Meera and the longbow man began to duel with their attackers, none of whom seemed to be in any rush to leave their position and close with them. Not five minutes later she heard a howl and grinned viciously.

As soon as the report got back to them Ranma and the wolfsworn had raced ahead of the army on a diagonal, intending to take the ambushers from the side quickly before they could escape. They ran into a lot more opposition than they had anticipated however, with over two hundred men hiding there ready to ambush the army.

They had also created small, simple bulwarks using downed trees and other things and despite being taken in their own flank, they responded with alacrity. Daryn was hit by an arrow, which went deep into the meat of his thigh, while Ranma was forced to block or smack aside over a dozen arrows. Roger and Hathan were even forced to break off theircharge, being on horseback they were much larger targets than the others, and they couldn't close quickly enough thanks to the foliage.

Despite this, the other's went through the Westerlanders like a thresher through wheat. Ice hewed them apart, sending limbs, heads and bodies flying. Dacey's greatsword hewed a path to one side, while Arya leaped and bounded everywhere, using the trees above as springboards, showing she had truly become at home with the Aerial Style that Ranma had been teaching her. In fact thanks to that and her own shorter stature she was doing as much damage as any of the other two wolfsworn combined.

Nymeria and Fenris howled in from the other side of the Westerlander defensive position, ripping and tearing at the men, who now were trying to break off and run. They had left it too late however, and with the wolfsworn in among them they had to stay and fight, a losing proposition despite their numbers.

"Meera, you okay?"Ranma shouted over the din of battle, bringing ice around one handed to block a sword blow from someone wielding a longsword, riposting quickly, the tip of his blade catching the other man in his gorget while at the same time his fist lashed out, catching another man in the side of the head.

"I'm alright!" Meera replied, firing an arrow at an archer trying to aim further down the trail at Roger, one of many clumped in the middle of their position who was still trying to fight as best they could. Her arrow struck the man in the side, causing him to cry out.

Then he and the other men who hadn't yet put their bows down began to wish they had, because Ranma and Edd had broken through to them. They dropped their bows, scrambling at their sides for their holdout daggers, but too late.

Moments' later the battle was over and Ranma moved to help Daryn, who was leaning against a tree, grimacing at the arrow in his thigh. "Hold on Daryn, we'll get that out of you in a second.

"Don't, it's a broad head, not a bodkin, you'll do more damage if you yank it out too quickly." The Hornwood heir gasped. "Just wrap it up, we can take it out when we get back to the rest of the army."

"Fine, but you're going to be sitting on one of the baggage animals for a bit my friend." The army had ditched all of their wagons and were now relying on pack mules to lug around most of their supplies.

"Fine by me." Daryn responded, wincing as Ranma went to work bandaging him with a bit of torn cloth from one of the dead. "You think we're likely to run into more of these little ambushes?"

"Probably." Ranma grunted, pulling the makeshift tourniquet tight over his friend's wound. "If I was Tywin, I'd try anything to slow us down, pin us in place and then wipe us out before we can 'wise up' and try to head down to the Ruby Ford again."

At that point Meera and Arya joined them, with Meera apologizing profusely for not having spotted the ambush in time. "You did Meera," Ranma corrected her, reaching over to ruffle her hair. "Scout's are supposed to either spot or spring ambushes, it's just the first is, y'know, better than the other."

Hefting his friend easily onto his back, Ranma went on, ignoring Daryn's mortified expression of the smirks the rest of his friends and even the scouts were sporting at his predicament. "Let's get back to the army, then, we'll change our route a bit, head slightly further north."

This worked for a few days and the Army advanced without further incident. But soon blocking forces began once more to ambush their scouts along the southern side of the army and at the front. This time however, Meera, once more in the lead, spotted them. She reported back quickly, switching out with one of the Shawney men. "They're ahead of us again, at least four hundred men this time, and they've taken up a position along a ridgeline, I don't think we could get close to them without taking fire. We could bring up our own archers but…"

She went on to describe the blocking position this group had taken. The ridgeline was actually the remains of a large hill that had been worn away at some point in the past to barely anything. But the top if it was still tall enough to give a commanding view of the surrounding lands, most of which were flat rolling fields and small rivers, with only a few trees in this particular area. There were a dozen cottages, all empty of course, and the fields had been picked clean.

"Then we need to swing wide." Ranma decided, frowning for a moment then he smirked. "Let's swing south, we haven't done that yet, and I bet we'll surprise whoever Tywin put in command of these holding actions."

His order went out quickly, and the army once again changed its line of advance.

OOOOOOO

The sudden move southwest did indeed surprise the Westerlanders for a few days, but then the Northerners and their Riverlands allies ran into even heavier blocking forces, forcing the army to fall back along their path before once more heading northwest. Their own scouts reported that the main Westerlander army had also kept between them and the Red Fork regardless of their own maneuvers.

This time they were at last able to come within sight of the House Lolliston's keep, but as they feared it was in enemy hands. Ranma scowled at it staring at it through a spyglass. "Damn, so much for that hope. Ah well, it was faint at best."

He looked over at the lead Shawney scout, a man who had previously served as a Lolliston armsmen before the battle at the ford where he had joined the more organized Shawney forces in their retreat. "You said there's a hill or something nearby?"

The man nodded. "It's a decent enough position, if'n ye've got the numbers fer it, though it don't have anythin' like cover."

"How much you want to bet that they've got a blocking force set up there?" Asked Roger sardonically.

"No bet," Ranma said shaking his head. "No bet on that anyway but… I bet they'll think we'll try the same thing we've been trying the past few days, trying to get around them, or try to take them in the flank. So instead, we're going to take them at the run."

Moments later as fire arrows flew out from the woods surrounding the old Lolliston Castle Ranma's army quickly moved on. The archers and 200 of the Mallister men were left with a few of the remounts so that they could catch up.

Within another hour of marching the Army was in sight of the blocking position the scout had warned them about. It was a natural ditch where some long gone stream had carved out the land enough to give the defenders some cover. The land around it was also somewhat more barren the normal in the area, and a few stones here and there seemed to indicate that it had been worked farmland at one point or another before the river dried up and with it the land around them.

With enough men this could be a very dangerous position, provided you understood the use of polearms anyway. No one besides Ranma and his men however truly did understand that, at least not to the level necessary to make a simple ditch a defensive bulwark against attackers. Yet there were over 200 men in that position, spread out along the empty streambed. Though only 50 or so were archers.

With the fire in the Lolliston castle visible in the distance the men here had been warned of the army's coming, but they were not prepared for the army to simply keep on coming the moment it hit the open area around the ditch. Normally the army would've fallen back, the archers would've been brought up and a long range duel between the two would've begun. Ranma wasn't doing that this time. Instead he ordered his men to charge with the cavalry in the fore, plus Fenris himself, Nymeria and Arya in the center of their formation.

The bows of the Westerlanders and the scattered Riverlanders who had joined them were not the longbows of the North. Tywin had understood he needed to break up the Vypren's remaining people to make certain that they didn't run off. He needed the local lord's knowledge of the land too much to let that happen, and so had spread his men out among all the smaller forces searching out the enemy. The Riverlanders bows were better than the Westerlanders, made of better wood and larger in the main, but they weren't as large as northern bows nor did they have the more powerful draw of the Northerners, lacking the slight recurve at the tips that made the Northerner's bows stronger even in proportion to their size. This meant the enemy's bows lacked the necessary penetrating power to fight full plate armored knights under fifty yards. Nor were the men as well trained as the Northerners.

With the heavy cavalry in the lead the men in the ditch couldn't get at the more lightly armored men behind them unless they shot arching style, which was unaimed, and easily blocked by simply having the infantry raise their shields. Then as the men in the ditch thrust up their weapons, makeshift spears for the most part, to receive them, the knights veered off to either side. The men in the ditch were still gaping at that when the infantry that had been charging behind the knights slammed into them and into the ditch. The archers got off one volley at close range that cost the northerners a good dozen men.

Ranma had left Ice behind on purpose, able to tell there wasn't enough space in the ditch for him to swing it, but his hands and feet were just as deadly. Arya was with him, holding a long dirk in either hand but she was also using her legs to good effect. The rest of the wolfsworn, and Patrek, who was armed at the moment with a short-hafted mace smashed their way into the ditch with relative ease at the head of the infantry. They lost only a few more men getting into the ditch due to simple surprise at the knights veering off as they did plus the fact the spearmen weren't bunched up enough to stop the infantry from getting underneath their weapons.

All of the men who had attacked the ditch were armed with shorter-hafted weapons rather than the pole arms and the regular longswords of their enemies. In the ditch, that proved a deadly advantage. Even Roger, who was much more at home with his long-hafted axe than any other weapon, had opted for a morningstar, which he used to smash aside two men in a single blow, before a kick from him shattered the leg of another man, opening him up for a pommel strike from Dacey, who was guarding his back in the melee of the ditch. That man's skull shattered under that blow, and Dacey's return blow opened the guts of another.

Those few men that tried to escape the ditch at either end of the former riverbed ran straight into the heavy cavalry that had circled around them. A few escaped jumping out of the ditch away from the attacking army before the heavy cavalry could fully encircle them, but they were very few and far between.

Ranma leaped out of the ditch, looking down at his blood-soaked hands shaking his head. It wasn't getting any easier for him. Still, would I really want it to be? Shaking his head clearof such thoughts he looked over at Roger and Hathan, who had swiftly joined him. "Reform the cavalry," he ordered, "Uncle, you and Patrek do the same for the infantry."

He turned looking over at where Meera was leading up the scouts out into the open area along with the archers and Mallister men who had been left behind to burn the castle. They had lost a few men, but as he had thought, there weren't many men left to guard the ruins of the castle. The fire had merely finished the work the Lannisters had already done. "Meera, get your men out in front, I want us at least twenty leagues from here before sundown." Around him the men groaned, but complied, their morale high from the relatively easy victory.

OOOOOOO

The army did indeed march the twenty leagues Ranma wanted yet even so, they hadn't gone far enough to escape the scouts that Lord Plumm, who was in charge of this angle of the chase, had set out. Like the other lords in charge of pinning the northerners in place, he had broken up his archers and a portion of his armsmen into smaller groups, sending them forward, while keeping half of his strength in a more central location well ahead of the main Lannister army.

Plumm's scouts were slightly better than most of the skirmishers Meera and her people had been dealing with. They were comprised mostly of former poachers and bandits that Lord Plumm had forced into his service with a simple choice of serving him or being sent to the Night's Watch well before this war began. Since the start of this campaign a few had attempted to run, but he had made the rest of them watch as he drew and quartered them when they were captured. That had enforced their loyalty, and they served him well now.

"They're heading straight west?" Philip Plumm asked sharply looking at one of his he felt anything for the death of over a third of his command in the two clashes that had occurred he gave no sign.

"Aye milord." The man said nodding his head not looking him in the eyes as he knelt in front of him.

"Where in the world are they going then? I thought they were trying to get back to Fairmarket but if they're heading straight west, that takes them away from the straight line back to Fairmarket from here."

The man didn't answer, knowing his Lord would not appreciate a lowly scout's thoughts on that matter. Inside however, he was wondering if the Stark-led army was simply leading them around for some reason. Over a week had passed since the fall of House Vypren's castle and the northerners had been very cagy about seeking battle, yet never tried to pull away entirely or return to Fairmarket.

Lord Plumm thought for a moment then he nodded decisively. Turning to one of his knights he ordered, "Get the men ready for a forced march. The Northerners have marched all day and fought a battle as well. If we can move fast we can catch them off-guard and exhausted."

The knight looked hesitant. "My Lord, Lord Lannister said we were not to try to fight a pitched battle merely slow them down enough for the main force to catch up."

"We're not fool, we're going to try a night attack. If we can attack them by night and destroy their supplies, we'll force them to either retreat straight back to Fairmarket, which means Lord Lannister might be able to get ahead of them with the rest of the army or simply besiege the town and wipe them out that way."

At the moment Lord Lannister was two days south and a little east of the former Lolliston Castle, and if he tried he might be able to get in front of the Northerners by simply marching for Fairmarket on a straight line.

Lord Plumm honestly didn't think they would be able to accomplish that, the Northerners were too Seven-damned fast on the march, and for all his youth the Stark boy had proven to be a wily tactician. Still, the Northerners had been having all of these small skirmishes almost entirely their own way, oh there had been one or two excellent ambushes that claimed a dozen or so of their men here and there, but on the whole it had been the Westerlanders that had been slowly bleeding lives.

They desperately needed to pin these Northerners down, then bring up the rest of their army and crush them as Lord Lannister had said. "If we need to take a chance to do it, I'm certain Lord Lannister will understand."

OOOOOOO

That night the northern army camped out in one of the small copse of trees that dotted the Riverlands. Despite not being large enough to be called woodland, there were still more than large enough for the army to hide in.

Everyone was tired, including Meera and her scouts except for Ranma who was in his tent. He was ready for bed but he needed to go over his plans. Ranma didn't want to show it, even to his friends, but he was getting worried. While the idea of splitting up some of his force and trying to create little holding actions here and there to slow the Northerners down wasn't exactly revolutionary, Ranma had hoped that it would take a while for Tywin to think of it. In fact, he had hoped that Tywin would try to march to Fairmarket straightaway, which would allow him and his army to attack the Westerlanders supply line and then force the Lannisters to retreat to their fortification on the other side of the Kneeling Man ford.

Lord Tywin hadn't even tried that, and what was worse he was keeping his main force on the move yet always to the south of Ranma and his men enough to keep them from marching on the Red Fork. He knows I want to try and get around him, then try and cross the red Fork somehow Ranma thought, frowning as he looked at the map. Has he realized what I'm trying to do, or does he just 'know' that I don't want to face that fort he threw up on the other side of the Kneeling Man's ford?

Worse, we haven't been able to break off contact with the scouts that have been tailing us. I can't break off the next attack group if they'd be spotted right away! He reached down absently, rubbing Fenris on the muzzle while the giant direwolf rumbled in pleasure, uncaring of his human's worries.

Ranma continued to look down at the map, thinking hard as he went over the information that the scouts as well as Lord Shawney and the rest of the Riverlanders who knew this area had told him. At the speed we can go, we're within four days of the Red Fork from here if we head straight for it, but Tywin is within two or three days travel with his main force and he is within our line so could cut us off with a large enough force to hold us in place for the rest of his army, damn it! I need to do something, Jon's attack is important, but it can't do enough damage on its own without follow up attacks, not right away. At least the first phase is working, but even there, I can't afford to…

Just then Fenris sat up, his ears twitching and he growled his teeth bared. Ranma looked down at him, their minds instantly linking. At that moment he heard what Fenris had heard, the jingle of harness, and movement from the south. But Ranma had put his tent up at the southernmost edge of the camp…

When the implication of that hit him Ranma instantly grabbed up Ice and ran out of the tent shouting "To arms! To arms!"

Ice in one hand he turned just as a dozen riders rode out of the surrounding night making right towards him. Ranma didn't hesitate, Ice coming around in a smooth ark to smash through one man's lance cutting deep into his horse and leg before continuing on as Ranma turned in a full circle while jumping into the air. His next blow came in at head height, slicing a man's head clean off armor and all before his leg lashed out at a third rider slamming into the man's shield with enough force to shatter the shield and the arm that had been holding it flinging the man out of the saddle with a cry.

Behind him Fenris howled aloud, before ripping and tearing at another horseman and horse. All around them the horses heard that terrible howl and skittered away in terror, something that affected even the mounted attackers elsewhere. But further away in the camp the attack continued, overwhelming the men on watch quickly and getting into the camp itself.

On the outer edge of the camp the defenders however were slightly more rested than the rest of the army, having bunked out while their fellows had made the camp. They held just long enough for many of the rest to grab up weapons and shields. Most of them however were still unarmored, and a ferocious melee erupted all over the camp.

"The North and the Riverlands!" Ranma bellowed, charging towards the nearest clump of men. "The North and the Riverlands!"He didn't know how many attackers that there were, the firelight from the fires of the camp wasn't enough to tell, but he knew that this attack couldn't possibly be that large, or else his scouts would've warned him that such a force was nearby. That means this is just another kind of holding the attack… they'll go after our supplies!

Putting one man down, Ranma spotted Meera and Arya coming out of their shared tent, and shouted, "The supplies! Grab some men and guard the supplies!"

No normal ears could've heard that bellow through the clamor of battle and the screams of the wounded and dying, but Arya was linked with Nymeria who was guarding her back tearing savagely into any of the attackers that tried to circle her. Thanks to that she did hear, and she shouted back an acknowledgment grabbing Meera whose trident had stuck in one man's armored stomach. "Come on!" she shouted, pulling at her. "Leave it, we need to get to the supplies!"

Arya raced on through the clamor of battle, killing any man who came at her, but ignoring most of the clumps of combat around her to get to the supplies. She grabbed as many men as she could along the way, and by the time she reached where the supplies were stored in the center of the camp she had a good fifty men, most of whom were unarmored but armed. They took the main force of attackers who had pushed through the camp to the supply train in the rear, and Arya led the way howling like Nymeria. "King in the North! King in the North!"

Roger and a few of his men had been bumped down near the horses. Over a dozen of the attackers had attacked from up out of the dark nearest the horses intending to scare them off. When Fenris howled however, their own horses shied and tried to bolt despite the best efforts of their riders, and they were forced to spend precious seconds trying to get them under control.

This allowed Roger and the rest of the cavalrymen to bolt upright and get back into the saddle. Roger himself bellowed "The Rills, the Rills for the King in the North!" as his ki-infused ax flew around, shattering one shield and slicing into a knight's chest before coming back around to parry a sword blow with so much strength that he nearly threw that man out of the saddle, allowing Roger time to get up into the saddle of the nearest horse.

Beside him Hathan and his squire were both in the saddle quickly, with the boy following his knight closely as Hathan slew three knights in quick succession, their horses still shying as the howls of the direwolves rebounded around in the fire lit night. Hathan's next ki-enhanced blow decapitated another man who was wearing what looked like better armor than most in the firelight, though Hathan had no time to notice as four more came at him, forcing him on the defense until another man was able to get into the saddle and relieve some of the pressure.

Arya's Fang flew left and right, slicing into two men before she leaped up on top of another man's horse pulling his head back and snapping his neck with a wicked wrench of her arm. Then she urged his horse into another man's horse, Fang flashing out to bury itself deep in the man's armored side right where his plate armor joined along his side. She wrenched it out with difficulty, then turned still on horseback and shouted orders, trying desperately to organize the defense of the supplies.

Patrek's voice soon joined her, and he led a force of Mallister men into the attackers from the other side, getting in front of them now and pushing them away from the bags of supplies. "Form shield wall!" he bellowed "Form shield wall, Seven-damn you!"

The sergeants took up his bellow, and soon enough there was a ring of shields around the supplies. With more and more men from the camp around them joining the battle that signaled the turn of the tide.

Nearby, Merry hid in her tent, shuddering a little as the sounds of battle reached her from outside but knowing better than to rush out just yet. In one hand she held a holdout dagger Alayaya had given her and which Ranma had trained her in somewhat during their voyage up to White Harbor. She gasped when the tent flap was flung open, and two men wearingunfamiliar colors rushed in, looking over their shoulders fearfully.

One of them looked at her, and Merry gulped. Since she had been in her sleeping bag (which was really just two small but heavy blankets stitched together) she was wearing her night shift, which was rather small on her these days, clinging to her like a second skin.

The man smirked at her evilly. "She mus' be some kind o' camp slut, still with the battle goin' agin us, she might make a good shield!"

While the other man turned to watch the entrance to the tent the first man reached for her, but Merry struck out with her dagger cutting into his hand. "Don't touch me!"

"YA bitch!" the man gasped, then gasped again as Merry's knife came back, slicing into his forearm, which began to bleed heavily. "Stupid whore!" He grabbed at her, but Merry retreated and a moment later the man collapsed to his knees, the blood running down from his forearm in an unending stream. "What the…"

Merry held up her blade watching as the man bled out from where she had cut one of his primary arteries. The other man however turned to her, his longsword raised. "You fuckin' cunt, ya killed me mate, I gonna gut ya like a fish fer that!"

He moved forward, smacking Merry's blade out of her hand. He pulled his blade back to stab her but then gasped as a sword point burst out from his armored chest. The blade receded then a hand grabbed his body by the shoulder and flung it out into the night. "Are you alright Merry!?"

Merry nodded, staring at him with relief. "Thanks to you, Ranma."

Taking her at her word Ranma nodded, though he couldn't stop himself from noticing how her nightshift clung to Merry, emphasizing her budding curved. He gulped a little flushing as he looked away. Damn, Merry isn't a little girl any longer is she?"Um, ya might want ta get dressed before ya come out, okay? I don't want a riot on my hands on top of everything else."

Merry gasped, covering herself with her hands though she also smiled a little smile at how Ranma had noticed she was growing up. I promised Daenerys that I wouldn't do anything but it's still nice to know I can affect his Stark self-control. "Of, of course!"

Nodding at that Ranma left the tent, sighing slightly with relief. He began to bellow orders again and soon began to instill some order in the chaos of the continued clamor of battle. The attackers didn't break off however, grimly staying and fighting to the last man.

Ranma didn't know this at the time and wouldn't learn it for a few months, but this was because Lord Plumm had died in the first few moments of the battle, along with three more of his knights thanks to Roger and Hathan. With him and most of his commanders dead there was no one left to order a retreat, and Lord Plumm had long since either elevated men who showed initiative or crushed such if the man wasn't the right sort, IE noble.

Thirty minutes after the battle had begun it ended, with Edd killing the last man standing as he tried to run off.

Ranma let the point of Ice fall, grounding it in the ground at his feet as he sighed sadly looking around the fire-lit camp, hearing the shouts of the sergeants calling their men to order, over the screams of the wounded and dying. Thank the old gods that the fires didn't get out of control and that the attackers didn't think of using it. He looked at Patrek and the others who were nearby. "Get a count of the wounded and dead." He ordered simply. "Let's get this camp organized again."

Behind him Merry came out fully dressed now, looking around at for her helpers and began to shout her own orders. "And someone find maester Martyn."

It turned out that Martyn was dead, killed in his tent by one of the men who had snuck in before the cavalry hit the outskirts of the camp. He and two of his chosen helpers were dead but the majority of the supplies were still intact. Merry quickly began to organize the wounded into the same system she had run back in Fairmarket, splitting the injured into groups of severity and working furiously to save those she could while one of her helpers made the passage of those they couldn't save as easy as possible.

The sun was peeking over the western sky before the camp was back to normal. Once again the commanders gathered together to go over what they learned. Meera reported first. "They snuck up on some of the guards on the southern edge, killed two of them, I found their bodies, their throats were slit from behind. They then snuck some of their men into the camp from that side. The rest of the guards didn't notice." she went on grimly shaking her head. "But there were only a few men inside the camp before you shouted your warning, Ranma."

"It was bad enough." Merry replied sharply, her eyes showing her tiredness as she leaned against Fenris. "We lost at least 690 dead, and another 29 won't make it through another day. I've made them as comfortable as I can, but another 203 are injured, 70 so severely I'd recommend that we send them back to Fairmarket, and twenty more are so injured that we can't move them."

"Do all you can Merry." Ranma said patting her on the head gently sighing sadly at the look of grief in her eyes from, well, being human really. She can't save everyone, but Merry doesn't seem to have realized that, has she? "How many of the sergeants did we lose?"

"Only two thankfully." Rickard replied to that question. "Both of them were on the southern side of the camp, and they and their men died there to the bastards who had snuck in before you shouted your warning."

"How many of the attackers escaped, do you think?" Asked Dacey.

"Not many." Roger replied shaking his head. "They stayed and fought for some reason even when the game was blown. Surprising, I didn't think that the Westerlanders were that fanatical."

Ranma shrugged unconcern at that, pulling at his ponytail thoughtfully as an idea occurred to him. "Get me my map," he said thoughtfully. "This might work to our advantage."

Everyone looked at him in surprise, but Luke who was standing respectfully behind Hathan rushed off to do his bidding, and came back with his map quickly. "Show me where we are on this again?" Ranma asked.

Nursing a broken arm Lord Shawney pointed out where he thought they were, then called over one of his chief scouts to make certain. Eventually Ranma nodded. "That's what I thought, good. I think it's time to break off the second force. Given the size of the force that hit us I bet they used all their forces nearby on this. And after an attack like this, even though we beat it off there's no way that the Westerlanders will realize how badly they hurt us. Even if they do have scouts still watching us we might fool them if we also send off our most severely injured up to Fairmarket."

Merry smiled grateful that Ranma was taking her suggestion even if he was doing it for more pragmatic reasons than she had put it forth for.

"Daryn pick out your men from those who can swi…"

"No." Daryn said shaking his head.

"What?" Ranma asked looking up and him in shock.

"I'm good at this sort of role,but I'm also injured." Daryn said. "I should stay with you."

"True, if your injury gets wet you risk getting it infected." Merry said, nodding her head.

Ranma thought for a moment the nodded. "That's a point. I'll send you with the wounded to lead their guard then. Dacey in that case you're in charge. You've got the most experience in leading infantry, sorry Roger, Hathan, but that's true."

Both men nodded equably, though Dacey frowned. "I'm not certain I'm the best for this, I'd prefer to put Arya in charge. You two don't seem to realize it but you Starks have built up a tremendous well of trust among the armsmen, even the Riverlanders now especially after this last battle."

"No chance of that." Arya said waving her hands in the air wildly. "I'll be the first into battle, that's fine but I'm not about to lead other people. I don't have the experience, the age, or the temperament. You've got all three Dacey."

"Are you calling me old, girl?" Dacey glared at the younger one girl who smirked back at her.

"Enough." Ranma laughed amused at his sister's attitude. Still, eventually Arya would be leading other people. This attack had shown that she had the temperament to do it if she tried. It had been Arya gathering men and leading them to the supply area that had really saved the day and would allow Ranma to continue with his campaign. "In any event, pick out your men then lead them straight west, then find a place to hide out until we're well away. Daryn, you'll head north for Fairmarket with the injured, while the rest of us will head straight south for a day, then northeast drawing off any attention."

"We'll be down to a bare four thousand men totalif we send off enough of a force with Dacey to do any good." Patrek, who had quietly become Ranma's aide-de-camp since Jon had left, warned. "I'm not arguing against it, I'm just telling you that we won't have enough men to perform any miracles."

"We don't need miracles, we just need Lord Tywin's attention firmly on us. That we can do." Ranma smiled, clapping the other young man on the shoulder.

Within an hour the army was once more organized and ready to march, with Merry frantically running every which way, trying to organize the injured, their stretchers and their caretakers. Taking care of the injured from this latest battle had nearly run through the army's medical supplies, but despite that Merry refused to go with them, sending off two of maester Martyn's more senior helpers to watch over them.

"With maester Martyn dead, you'll need someone here, and while I'm not fully trained, I'm the best we've still got!" She replied firmly to Ranma's subtle attempt to suggest she go with them.

At the look and the younger girl's eyes Ranma backed away his hands in the air placating me all right. "All right, all right Merry, I won't push."

Rickard and Patrek organized the supplies, giving Dacey enough to let them head off. She, the remaining wolfsworn and four hundred men broke off and headed west within the hour. The rest of the army with Ranma, Meera, Patrek, Silas and Rickard still leading them headed straight south, to once more prick the lion's tail.

Ranma didn't push the army very hard that first day heading straight south, and they stopped and put up camp almost within sight of castle Lolliston again. He let them rest for the rest of the day and into the night, before moving off again. Thankfully, Lord Plumm had indeed used all of his men in that night attack leaving only a few scouts, none of whom were inclined to try and get the army's attention. So it was easy enough movement for that day and the next, where they were in sight of the Red Fork.

At that point Ranma's scouts warned that they were beginning to run into more and more of their opposite numbers. One of them however, was able to break through and come back. "They've got a major camp up there my Lord," he reported staring over at Ranma and his own Lord,Shawney. "I saw a lot of banners, including the Lannister lion."

"Gooood…" Ranma smirked. "In that case, I think it's time for us to go east again."

"Northeast, or just east?" Silas asked.

"We'll mix it up, but we want to move east regardless. We want to give Dacey and her crew at least four days to get over the Red Fork, let alone to actually get to where they can do some good. And we need to keep Tywin's attention completely on us, on what he is trying to do to us. So much so he isn't worried about his own defense."

Over the next five days the army backtracked slightly then marched east, but almost immediately they began to run into more blocking forces. For now however, Ranma and his army did not seek out battle, trying to wend their way through them. It got so bad however that their options were slowly disappearing. Meera's scouts, with strict orders to avoid action, had found that Tywin was closely following them, his army broken into smaller groups, each of which could move faster than the total could. The one Meera's scouts' reported was larger alone than Ranma's remaining men. And Ranma and his officers knew there were more out there, each one moving in a slightly different direction in an attempt to catch or at least take away some of Ranma's choices on where to lead his army.

Eventually Ranma had to make the decision to punch through one of the holding forces quickly rather than going around it. Meera found the one in the worst position, but even so, it cost his army over two hundred dead, and slowed them further with even more injured. Still they kept going with Tywin and the others on their heels.

Tywin thinks he's almost got us, that we cut it too fine when we turned away from the Red Fork. Ranma mused while loping along at the front of the army, Fenris beside him. Good, or rather it will be if we can keep from actually being caught. That however was going to be a tall order now that they were practically retracing their steps, heading further east towards the Ruby Ford. The line is set, now we just need to keep out of the lion's jaws long enough for the trap to spring.

OOOOOOO

While Ranma and Tywin were conducting their gains, Daenerys and her force had reached the Ruby Ford after the carpenters built enough barges to get the small force down the river. It was slow and very irritating going in terms of river travel, yet it might be worth it in the long term considering this way allowed them to build the barges, which could be useful later, and to stay away from the Ruby Ford for long enough for Ranma and his force to drag every scout Tywin had after them.

Daenerys had also used this time to thoroughly exhaust both of her dragons so that they were willing to remain hidden in their carts for a few days after their arrival. Her own presence would come out quickly, but the dragons, they were a hidden card for now, or at least, both she and Ranma hoped they were. Since Tywin was with his army and away from anyone who could send him rumors, this was a possibility they both thought worth pursuing for a time.

Nonetheless, Rhaegon began to act out barely a few hours after they boarded the barges. By the end of the day Sunfyre had joined him. However Daenerys chanced upon a solution. While warging with them she sent the growing draklings the image of the two of them from her perspective hiding in the carts prepared for them, then superimposed it with one of the direwolves stalking a bear through a forest.

After that the two dragons had thankfully realized what was going on and settled down somewhat, another sign they were much more intelligent than any of the books Daenerys had read when she was younger. She idly wondered if it was a side effect of her connecting mind to mind with them, but she certainly wasn't complaining either way. Though Rhaegon still grumbled occasionally, he did so while hiding in his cart, and Sunfyre seemed content to laze about for a few days after having been worked so hard for a few days prior to that.

As they came close to the Ruby Ford they began to see both more signs of habitation and of the presence of an army. Several dozen riders began to follow the barges down the river, and one or two of them cheered seeing the banner of House Mallister. About a day after that they reached the actual Ruby Ford, an almost mile-long area where the Blue Fork met the Green Fork. Both rivers slowed down here and were not nearly as deep as normal for most of their length, the water of the Ford coming up to only need knee height on most men.

The ford had been created by the Riverlords long ago, though the name 'the Ruby Ford' had only been given it after Robert's Rebellion where he fought Prince Rhaegar. Rumor (and pro-Baratheon propaganda) said Robert slew Rhaegar with a massive blow from his warhammer, which had shattered his armor, sending the rubies that had been inset into it into the water of the ford. Jason said that was accurate, having been there in that battle with the Riverlands forces arrayed behind Lord Tully. He then went on to say that the rumor refrained from mentioning how people from both sides stopped fighting to try to dive into the water to pick up the rubies.

That was rather beside the point at the moment however.

Smalljon was on the lead barge, with the banner of House Umber flying next to him alongside Jason Mallister and his banner. He looked on the defenses thrown up on the northern side of the Ford and smiled approvingly. Several lines of ditches and several bulwarks had been thrown up, combined with five raised platforms further back from the line and what looked like four catapults set up to hammer any force coming across the Ford. It was an impressive display.

"Very nice." Smalljon murmured. Then he shouted aloud as men from the defenses came out to greet them. Many of them wore House Umber colors, and the banner of house Umber, Greatjon's banner, and the Stark banner flew on a camp he could see in the distance behind the defensive lines. "My complements to whoever designed this place!"

"That would be me!" Said a young man, coming forward. He was dressed as a worker, and would have disappeared into the crowd if not for his voice, which was one that had been trained for war. "Vincent Ryger at your service! You would be Smalljon correct? Lord Jason needs no introduction." By that point the men had reached the edge of the defensive area, and he was waving then forward to help pull the barges to the side of the Ford.

The barges clattered together, grounding on the Blue Fork section of the Ford, and the men began to haul themselves out while more men from the defensive lines came forward to help them.

"Well met Vincent." Said Jason, leaping over the side to land knee-deep in the water of the Ford. He moved forward clasping the younger man's arm warmly. "I should've known you would be the one to have designed the defenses here. Your father always did say that you preferred to think up construction projects rather than riding or hunting."

"Not so much anymore, alas." The younger man replied laughing and Smalljon took a moment to watch him. Vincent was dressed simply like any normal armsmen would in camp. His hair was a light brown color, shaggy at present with a scar cutting across his chin which might be why he hadn't grown a beard. His shoulders were decently wide and his hand, when he held it out to Smalljon to shake looked calloused, though Smalljon couldn't tell if that was calluses from sword exercises, or from something else. Either way Smalljon approved of what he saw.

"How many men do you bring with you my Lords?" Vincent asked.

"A little over 1,700, the rest of my House's men are marching with Lord Stark at present, doing what they can to make life uncomfortable for the Lannisters."

"Something I could wish we would all be doing." Another young man who had come up said darkly. "I am pleased to say that I count myself among Ser Edmure's friends, and it pains me to sit on the defensive like this while he is kept captive by those treasonous bastards in King's Landing! I would rather have us go on the attack with you my Lords. You'll have to convince the other Houses however, which is a tall order my lords."

"My older brother Tristan, my lords." Vincent introduced him.

While this discussion was going on a cloaked and hooded figure, with a luxuriant beard, came up with another, much smaller hooded figure leading two horses each, causing Smalljon and Jason to nod at it, Jason chancing a glance at the servant for a moment before nodding. "Where are Lord Wayn and the others? I would have thought your father at least would be here."

"Our father has allowed Vincent and I to command our men here. Indeed if not for the other lords insisting he be here, I doubt he would have left the comforts of Willow Wood at all, but our seat is too far away from the ford to make a good command position. He and the other lords have commandeered a inn nearby, I'll escort you there now if you wish. Could you ask your men thought to follow my men, they will guide yours over to the camp the rest of the northern army has set up?"

Vincent nodded agreement. "We are still two separate, 'unallied' forces my lords, as much as my brother and I would prefer otherwise." He nearly snarled the words for a moment before calming down." The other lords have been most particular about keeping most of your men away from the defensive line, though obviously that hasn't worked over much."

After the newcomers nodded agreement to that he went on. "As I said, it will be a tall order to convince any but my brother and I to act against House Lannister. Lord Wayn and Lord Roote parlayed the current nonaggression agreement we have with the murderous scum, and they control the majority of the men here. Our own House is weak as you well known lord Mallister, and of course our father is… ambivalent about backing Lord Brynden thanks to 'past wrongs'." Vincent and Tristan both looked like they wanted to spit for a moment there. "That despite our uncle's work to regain Lord Tully's trust in our house. I'll be astonished if you can get any further than Lord Brynden or Lord Umber has."

"We will see." Jason said smiling thinly. He was actually going to enjoy this Jason realized, on top of the effect of her actual presence watching other lords run into Daenerys and her powerful personality would be interesting. He didn't know when it had happened, but somewhere along this journey he had gone from being a skeptic even antagonistic towards her, and shifted into a supporter somehow. He was still very leery about the connection she had with her dragons and the dragons themselves, but no more than he was about Ranma and his family's connection to their direwolves.

Tristan and Vincent both looked on in confusion as the servants who had brought up their horses pulled themselves into the saddles of the two remaining beasts, never letting their hoods fall. Both young men's intrigue was further roused by seeing a flash of a hand that was far too dainty to belong to a man from the second figure. Watching Smalljon and the other servant take up unobtrusive positions on either side of her Vincent decided to wait and see what was going on here.

Tristan smiled at the intrigue and asked lightly. "Would you care to let us in on the secret my Lords?"

Smalljon laughed. "Trust us, you'll get the joke eventually and I think it will be all the better for waiting."

With that the five of them began to move through the defensive works while behind them the lead the rest of the men into on loading and moving their stuff to the northern camp. A few moments after they left the last bulwark behind they met up with Brynden and Greatjon who had come out from the northern camp.

"Smalljon!" Greatjon bellowed. "We've heard all about how the Freys fell, ha! I wish I could've seen it! What did that old windbag look like when he realized that the Twins had fallen?"

"I think he nearly had a heart attack frankly, he looked like a frog that had swallowed a boulder!" Smalljon replied. When Greatjon pulled his horse up alongside his son's the two large men reached across and pounded one another on the back with blows that would've broken a lesser man's bones.

"I agree with Greatjon." Brynden quipped, smirking slightly. "I wish I could've seen it too. Actually no, I don't wish that. I wish I could be a fly on the wall when news of the Twins' destruction reaches those Freys that are already serving with the Lannisters or worse married to them! Their howls of agony would warm my heart."

With that he turned to the third person in the group from the Blue Fork, one eyebrow raised in amusement. He bowed his head like slightly, then he ignored her for now joining with the others to inveigle Smalljon to tell them about the battle in the Twins.

Smalljon did so, keeping their attention firmly on him as well as all their watchers as they rode on. None of the Riverlanders noticed when two carts began to move in their wake, with several young squires racing alongside them. They soon came to the inn that had been commandeered as the home for the lawyers wildly held the Ruby forward. "Of course," Tristan said shaking his head in amusement, "none of them are happy to be here."

"That's true enough." Brynden replied shaking his head. "I had forgotten how set in his ways Old Wayn is, but then again he's as old as my brother, and almost as feeble. Both in mind and body…" He went on, speaking under his breath but still audible to those nearest him.

"Jason!" said a voice as they entered the inn's interior. Lord Ryger set up from where he had been sitting at a table, where he was going over some kind of paperwork. "I'd heard your banner was seen coming down the river, but I didn't think it would actually be you. Last we'd heard you had sent your son off to Fairmarket, while you stayed behind."

"Events forced me to march to war myself Donovan." Jason said smiling thinly at the other man. They were not exactly friendly, indeed they had only met a few times and Donovan had always been rather bitter about the punishment handed out by Lord Tully for his House's backing House Targaryen.

From a nearby table Lord Roote also stood up. He was a small fat man, who looked much more like a merchant or banker of some kind than a lord. This fit house Roote to a T, considering they had never been a powerful House until awarded Harroway, and after that they had become more merchant than lord.

Old Wayn did not get up from his chair by the fire, he simply looked at them coolly. "Jason." he said nodding. He was an elderly man who might have been tall in his youth, but who was now stooped with age. He had a long beard, and deep rheumy eyes, and unlike the other two he didn't wear armor or a sword, instead wearing good if faded linen doublet and hose.

"Elistares." Jason replied, nodding back just as coolly.

"While it's nice to see you" the older man went on, his tone giving his words the lie. "I have to say that if you're here to join young Brynden in trying to convince us to take the field against the Lannisters you won't have much luck. The agreement we've reached with Lord Tywin is that so long as he stays on his side of the Ruby Ford we won't take the field against him. The Lannisters are too strong, even with your Northern army with us to take in the open field. And besides, while there might be some question as to the Lannister boy's right to the crown, it's not as if the Starks have any claim on it either! I'm not willing to fight for them, but neither am I willing to fight against them, not without a lot more reason then I've already heard."

"So says a man who hasn't seen their predations on the Riverlands first hand." Ser Halmore Blanetree growled. He was a tall, spare man, with a series of scars running down one side of his face that looked recent, and a burning rage in his brown eyes.

"We've already had this argument Ser Halmore." Lord Roote said, waving one somewhat pudgy hand as if to wave away the knight's words. "And while we sympathize, we have to think of our own people first. And while there is some question about the boy-king's right to his throne, there is just as much question as to who began the battle against the Lannisters when they began their march. If you, the Vances and the other hotheads hadn't begun the war, the Riverlands could have remained neutral, and the king might even have returned your precious Lord Edmure."

"As much as I hate to admit it, Lord Roote is correct. We need to think of our own people, and until there is a clear case of who is in the right here, we will continue to follow Lord Tully's last command to us, that we follow our own consciences. I'm sorry, but there you are." Lord Ryger said, sounding as if he really meant it.

"My husband and I thought you might think that way my Lords." said a female voice. "That is why I am here."

Vincent and his brother exchanged a glance, wondering where this was going to go while their father leaned forward wondering as well.

"And who would you and your husband be, miss?" said old Wayn now looking at the hooded form that had spoken with surprise.

Daenerys raced her hands pushing back her hood to reveal her face and features. Beside her the other cloaked figure did the same, revealing an aged, lined face, one that more than one man had seen before. "I am Daenerys Stark-Targaryen, wife of Ranma Stark, King of the North and lord Tully's representative until this current crisis is dealt with." The words 'and Lord Tully's grandson' hovered in the air for a moment, unspoken, before she went on. "And I'm here to convince you to join your banners with hours for the sake of justice and your oaths to Lord Tully and his house."

Over the next several days Daenerys went to work on bringing the lords of the eastern Riverlands over to their cause. It was not, alas, as easy as she had hoped. It gave Daenerys her first real experience with the world of politics, that is, the need to juggle various people's demands/needs with what needed to be done. Worse, for three of the five lords here, her legitimate claim to the throne mattered not at all, nor did Ser Barristan's siding with her, which should have added more legitimacy to her and Ranma's cause. It appalled her that the lords, in particular Roote and Wayn, were so self-serving, so blind to the long term ramifications of doing nothing, though admittedly for very different reasons. Eventually however, she was able to charm, browbeat or otherwise convince the various lords to side with them.

Wayn was the hardest to convince. He was old and very tired of war. He had no direct heir of his body, his three sons all having died in the War of the Usurper. He was tired, and had no desire to see his men off to die in another war. Daenerys however convinced him to defend his House's land and not stop allied forces from crossing them. Further she guaranteed his brother and nephew would be allowed to return home from Riverrun, where they were currently serving, his brother as steward his nephew as a page, immediately after the Lannisters were driven out of the Riverlands.

For a very different reason Roote was also hard to convince. Given the fact that they didn't know if the houses near the Trident had been coerced or join the Westerlanders willingly, Daenerys refused to guarantee anything behind the return of Harroway, but even that had conditions. Since it was a town, Daenerys wanted to make certain Harroway had crown representation in the future. Eventually she convinced him that if Darry had followed Tywin willingly their lands would become House Roote's in return for concessions in the running of the town.

Lord Ryger and Ser Blanetree were the easiest though they had very different motives. Ryger saw Daenerys, her dragons and her marriage to Ranma as vindication of his father, the former Lord Ryger's, decision to follow the crown. Daenerys didn't think in that manner, but for some very complex reasons, and while very willing to repay House Ryger for its service couldn't truly give them much, which angered him.

On the other hand, Blanetree she could do something for, which neatly led to a solution to Ryger's angst. Their house had been on the other side of the Blue fork, right in the Trident on the side of the river away from Harroway. Their people had mostly escaped over the Ruby Ford, though Blanetree and his men had been mauled in the retreat from the battle at the Kneeling Man ford. While not having many men to add to the cause now, the loyalty of the house to their Lord Paramount had to be awarded, and Daenerys had promised them House Vypren's land and money enough to rebuild its seat, assuming that Ranma's attack on it had left enough of it standing.

While Daenerys was discovering the joys of politics on a small scale Domeric and Alayaya went to work. With Brynden's aid by the end of four days the two of them had rooted through both the northern and Riverlands forces here, pulling out what information they could not just about the various house's readiness for war which helped Daenerys in her discussions, but other bits and pieces of information that would help in the long term.

But their main task was to ferret out anyone passing on information to anyone else. They found several spies from Lord Lannister, and Domeric even caught two couriers well out from the Riverlands encampment. These were men who were good enough at sneaking about in the forests and woodlands to get away from the army and cross the ford before travelling down to where the Lannister Army wasn't camped on the other side of their fortifications. Their skill at sneaking however did not translate to skill with weapons' craft, and Domeric killed them both when they tried to run away from him when he came upon their small hideaway.

Thanks to their efforts the dragons had been ensconced in the into the northern camp with no one save the northern army the wiser for several days, and the northerners weren't going to share anything with the Riverlanders. This was because the portion of the northern army here had come to resent the Riverlands nobles, rightly blaming them for stopping the army from from crossing the Ruby Ford and going to their King's aid. And more than one armsmen had realized that the dragons were a powerful token, and should be played with the most amount of surprise to get the most out of it.

Now the dragons were watched by the majority of the youngest pages led by Cley, who Ranma had sent with them, when Daenerys could not be with them, which alas was most of the afternoons. Since none of the spies had access to the northern camp in the first place, they were relatively out of sight, though Danny started to hear some rumors about giant bats for some reason after she allowed the dragons out to fly at night.

Unfortunately even, Brynden, Alayaya and Domeric didn't know all the tricks and they missed a few spies. Most particularly, they missed the fact that Lord Wayn's steward, who was the most powerful person in that house given Lord Wayn's declining health and mental acuity, had been trying rather desperately to poison the old man against Daenerys. Ser Crenlock Shett was a rather large man, almost of a size with Smalljon in height though not in breadth, he looked as if he could have been used as a gigantic coat rack in fact, and his hair was completely gray.

He was used to having it all his own way, since he had been running Lord Wayn's keep and lands more and more in the past few years. Of course for most of that time he didn't have anything much to report to either of his two masters, Lord Lannister and Varys, but the stipend they both paid him and the money he was able to launder allowed him to keep his mistress in Gulltown very happy indeed.

Unfortunately, Crenlock's ability to control Wayn's actions was based upon there being both no crisis and having access to him while decisions were being made. Since Daenerys' first move had been to insist that only the Lords be present during their discussions, she had been able to dominate the discussions without Crenlock being able to interfere.

It was that desperation, and the knowledge that both of his couriers had been found that caused Crenlock to start poking his nose around, though not his own of course. He had six trusted men, men whose loyalty ostensibly was to Lord Wayn, but who were truly loyal to him. He had them listen to rumors and watching for anything unusual, while he began to think about ways to remove Daenerys.

Right now his hands were worrying at one another, and he was furtively glancing from side to side. He'd lost quite a few contacts the past few days, and he knew that most of his fellow spies had been found out thanks to the Summer Island whore and that damn northern bard working with Bryndan, whose intelligence Crenlock had long suspected was rather higher than he was happy with. But that was but a patch on the real reason he was nervous, because one of his men had gotten a young Northern page drunk, and found out that Daenerys had far more going for her than just her last name.

"Dragons, the bitch has two dragons, young yet but, gahhhh!" He said, his tone low but almost manic, and very much afraid, his eyes on the door to his office. It wasn't really an office,he'd simply commandeered the room that had belonged to the innkeeper's young daughter. It was a small threadbare place, worse even than Crenlock's room back in Castle Wayn let alone the magnificent apartment he kept in Gulltown. He hadn't been there in months, not since old Wayn had been forced to divest himself from Castle Wayn and come forward with his men. "We, we need to act, and I know of one way to turn those dragons on the fucking northerners…"

Unfortunately, the guard on Daenerys was too much for any subtle plan Crenlock came up with to work. SmallJon and Ser Barristan never left her side save when she was asleep in the room she shared with Alayaya, and Ser Barristan had retained the services of a crannogman as a food taster. The ladies room was also the furthest along the second-story passage of the inn, only reachable by walking past all the others, which included the room Smalljon and Barristan shared, whose door was always open. So he was forced to go with a brute force approach, one that was much more of an all or nothing proposition than he would've liked.

So Crenlock, knowing it was only a matter of time before he was found out, couched his bet. While two of the men who were loyal to him would carry out his assassination plan, the other four left early in the night with five very good horses, heading toward the Kingsroad then down toward the Trident and beyond that into the area of the Riverlands controlled by the Lannisters. There he met them on his own horse, having ostensibly been sent off by Wayn back to his family's keep to check on things.

This was a route that was too long to have been used up to this point to send spy messages along, but going in that direction allowed him to get away from the Army in a direction that the Northerners weren't watching as closely. The defenses in that direction of the earthworks wasn't nearly as built up either, since they would have a lot of warning of any Lannister incursion coming up the Kingsroad.

The men Crenlock left behind moved that very night. They moved around the inn to the back, where they stood directly underneath the window to the room that Daenerys and Alayaya had taken over. While one of the men stood there his fellow climbed onto his shoulders reaching up for the windowsill. With difficulty the assassin pulled himself up, and opened the window, which Crenlock had stealthily unlocked earlier that day.

Daenerys and Alayaya were not in there at that moment. Daenerys was downstairs talking to the other lords and having an evening meal, while Alayaya was out and about with Domeric. This allowed both of the men to hide themselves in Daenerys' room, closing the window and pulling the blinds closed as well. One hid in a corner behind the door between the inner wall and a wardrobe, while the other man hid between one bed and the wall.

The two men waited there in the dark of the room for he didn't know how long, until eventually he heard a set of three footsteps and a female voice murmuring followed by a chuckle. The one nearest the door heard his target murmur "Good night Smalljon, Ser Barristan." Then watched as Barristan opened the door first, glancing inside. Both held still while the veteran's eye's scanned the shadows, not even daring to breath for a moment.

Then Barristan was pushed to one side, a female voice murmuring "Oh give over my lord, I doubt that there is a horde waiting in the shadows waiting to jump out at me."

"You never know my lady, assassins can find you at the most astonishing of times. And as queen your safety is not something I'm willing to take chances with."

"Carry on then Ser."

"Thank you milady, I will."

The assassins held their breaths even more as Barristan entered the room, glaring around him before turning toward the door, but didn't find the assassins, who were both wearing black and gray clothing that let them hide very well in the black of the room. Just as they both felt that Barristan was finished his inspection, the man moved with far more speed than his age would suggest. Jumping to one side, his sword came out of its sheath before thrusting into and through the chest of the man who had been hiding in the corner. "Assassin!"

At that cry and the scream of his companion, the other assassin bolted up from his own hiding place, rushing toward the doorway where Daenerys was standing holding a small candle for light. With his sword stuck in the first assassin Barristan couldn't turn to face the second man, but Smalljon quickly grabbed Daenerys, pulling her out of the way. Even so the second assassin had reacted so quickly, and the room was so small, that he had been able to get close enough for his long dagger to slice into Daenerys' arm despite the speed of Smalljon's response.

Stumbling from Smalljon's pull Daenerys winced as the pain of the slash to her arm hit her, clamping her hand down on it. However her mind was still working, and she growled "Alive Smalljon, I want him alive!"

Smalljon, who had just smashed the second assassin's knife out of his hand with blow from his gauntleted fist, snarled, but complied, lowering his sword while bringing his unarmed hand around again, catching the assassin on the chin. His blow lifted the shorter man off his feet, throwing him across the room to slam into the opposite wall. "You never said he had to be in one piece Daenerys."

By this point Barristan had finally wrenched his sword free of the dead man's chest, rushing over to his queen. "Are you alright milady?"

"A new scar for the collection perhaps, but it might be best to send for a healer as well as someone to take our prisoner to Brynden, I want him squeezed, and squeezed hard." Daenerys replied smiling at the man who, she was swiftly realizing, had just saved her life. "Thank my shield, and if I ever question you again about being too paranoid, feel free to ignore me."

"I will hold you to that milady," Barristan replied, smirking behind his beard as Smalljon laughed while shouts from below indicated the uproar had been noticed.

OOOOOOO

Jon and the men he led didn't have any kind of baggage train because in the territory they were going even mules would have slowed them down. The Whispering Wood was not named that because the woods were easy to get through. After all, a lot of the Riverlands had scattered copses of trees and foliage. The Whispering Woods however was as dense and as unclaimed as almost any forest south of the Neck.

To Jon and the Northern mountain clansmen with him however, it was just like coming home. House Grell had long lived on the outskirts of the Whispering Woods, their armsmen were used to moving through its verdant foliage. So Jon led his force as quickly as possible, because they had quite a lot of territory to cover. Though Ranma hadn't really given him a date or anything in which to take their target, Jon felt that a month and a half was the maximum amount of time he should allow.

None of the men were armored as they moved, that would simply have worn them down, and would have made noise. The jingle of chain and the stamping of feet could cover a surprising distance even in a forest. So their armor and weapons were carried on every man's back, along with each man's food supplies. They added to this by stopping occasionally in the midafternoon to send out hunters, and because there are only 700 of them they were able to sustain themselves in the Woodlands.

Several days after they left House Grell territory smoke in the distance indicated they were coming close to Riverrun, and Jon led them even further to the west putting more distance between them and the city just in case. He doubted that the Lannisters had any scouts on this side of the Red Fork, but he didn't want anyone to see them, regardless of who they served. Rumor could carry to Lannister ears just as much as a scout's report after all.

Nearly a week after that Jon opened his eyes, coming out of his warg state with Ghost. He stretched grumbling slightly as he got out of his bed roll at the edge of his force's camp, having unknowingly rationalized that in the same way as his brother. So that is the Tumblestone, joy.

Jon had sent Ghost ahead of the rest of his command to see if he could find and follow the Tumblestone which they would have to cross eventually someplace well down the course of the river. Or rather up, considering they were heading towards its source. Now however he knew why there weren't any farmers near the Tumblestone as there were near the Red Fork or even the other rivers in places. The land around the Tumblestone was nasty, and even just a few days away from Riverrun the river itself was a deep frothy nightmare of massive stone boulders jutting out from a fast current. I hope it gets easier as we go along, or…

It didn't. As the curve of the river slowly turned westward it got deeper, and thankfully the rocks began to slowly disappear worn away by the current over time, but the current itself was still massively fast, too fast to attempt any type of crossing. Eventually Jon called a halt, and he, Ser Desmond, and the mountain clan leaders, Torag and Muldan of the Wull and Flint clans respectively, went forward to view the Tumblestone for themselves.

Here there was a slight curve in the Tumblestone. Here you could tell the river had receded somewhat from its highline, indeed the river only took up about half the gorge it had cut out of the land here. Yet the current still looked more than enough to overwhelm a man in chain mail, or even a normal man in leather.

"We'll never get men across that," grunted Desmond, sounding almost but not quite pleased. He had after all thought this idea was folly back in Fairmarket.

"Our men can't swim," said Muldan, spitting to one side, his mouth a sneer under his full beard. "Where we come fr'm, swimmin' can't be done." There were rivers and the occasional deep pool in the mountains, but they were freezing cold year-round, not quite cold enough to freeze, but more than cold enough to kill anyone who went into them for any length of time. A few mountain men could stay afloat, diving into those pools was often used as a challenge to prove one's courage, but there was a vast difference between that and facing this kind of current.

"We don't have to get everyone across, just one person to set up a rope line." Jon pointed across the river. On the other side there was a large boulder jutting out of the side of the river, with a tree growing at a diagonal next to it. "If we can get some ropes across to that we can make a makeshift rope bridge, one below, two above. Why do you think I've been carrying so much rope all this time?" The northern army actually had commandeered enough rope to supply a war galley when they were in Seagard, and about half of it had been split up among the men with Jon.

More than one manlooked a little queasy at the very idea, but none of them were going to say anything that could be taken as cowardice in front of their fellows. "Who?" said Desmond, still looking skeptical.

Jon shrugged philosophically. "Me. I'm the strongest here, and I can swim." The other officers protested this, saying that as commander Jon shouldn't risk himself like that. But Jon refused to listen, knowing he had the best chance of getting across without being swept away by the current.

The rest of the Army came up while Jon tied a thick line of rope around his waist and then over his shoulders. The end of it was being held in the grips of several of the men, as well as Ghost holding the very end of it. The direwolf was watching his master worriedly, but did not argue or try to convince him not to go. Jon patted him one last time on the head then slowly climbed down the side of the gorge and into the water below.

Almost immediately Jon realized that he had underestimated its current, and he had to stand there for a moment, wrapping his arms around a boulder for a moment as he got used to the current. Slowly Jon moved forward deeper into the Tumblestone. Even as strong as he was Jon was almost carried away several times, and despite the best he could do by the time he got across Jon had moved down the riverbank about fifty feet from the target boulder. He was also exhausted, as if he had sparred with Ranma for an entire day.

The men who had been holding the end of the rope however had followed him along and they cheered as Jon, looking and feeling like a wet rat pulled himself up out of the water to lean gasping against the far side of the crevice. He waved at them wearily, then turned to climb upwards.

Moments later Jon was back at the boulder, tying it off. Two more ropes were flung over, and he grabbed from both tying them up to two different trees, then looping them around the boulder just in case. This way the three ropes made a very crude rope bridge, with one rope at the bottom of a triangle for a person's feet, and two on either side for their hands.

With that done Jon leaned against the boulder, wearily watching as Desmond began to organize the men. Over the next few hours the men came across slowly, with only ten on the rope at any time. Despite the ropes they still lost several men who lost their footing and were unable to hold themselves up on the ropes long enough for their fellows to grab them. At one point, one man falling had produced a chain effect, taking four more of his fellows into the water below. Burdened as they were with their packs none of them surfaced again.

Eventually however the entire force was acrossbar Ghost. Desmond looked over at Jon, who had just stood up, looking across the river at his bonded direwolf. "Are you going to go across and carry your pet over?" the knight asked dubiously. Desmond had yet to realize how deadly or intelligent the giant direwolves of the Starks all were.

"No, I'm not that strong, and he's not that small." Jon replied dryly, shuddering inwardly at the very idea for many reasons. "No, I think Ghost will have to get himself across. "Leaning once more back against the boulder Jon stared across at Ghost their minds connecting through that strange doorway that was the warg ability.

After Jon got his thoughts across Ghost shook his head, as if pitying his human. A second later Ghost moved, biting through two of the ropes and letting them fall away. They were quickly pulled in by the men on the other side, since they could be of use later that done Ghost bit through the last of the ropes then grabbed the end of it with his mouth, rushing forwards and leaping out into the gorge and into the water.

Ghost was actually quite a bit stronger than Jon hence his confidence but much to Ghost's chagrin this did not equate to a greater ability at swimming. Jon had to help him, pulling him across the river with several other men. The power of the direwolf's jaws and the men pulling on the rope allowed him to get across despite having been carried away slightly.

Once his animal had joined him, looking very wet and very irritable Jon turned to his officers. "We'll continue up the Tumblestone on this side of the river for now, I want us to do at least two more leagues today, then we'll pause for the rest of the day."

Later, while the rest of the men were resting doing the things armsmen needed to during quite moments such as checking their equipment and other matters, Jon once more road Ghost's mind, and the direwolf moved off through the woods. A direwolf at full lope could cover more leagues in a few hours than a man on horseback could cover in a day and could certainly move through the woods far more easily. Even stopping to hunt at one point didn't slow him down. This way Jon used his bonded animal to find the trails they could follow as well as scout out the area for enemies.

Luckily there was still no one around. This area of Westeros had nothing whatsoever to draw people to it, no resources, no arable land, not even much game, it was very much like most of the North in that manner though obviously the weather was different.

Jon's force kept following the Tumblestone for another week, then split off when the area they were travelling too changed from hilly to mountainous. At that point the mixed force stopped moving during the day, and moved through the woods at night with the mountain clansmen in the lead following the trails that Ghost would find them the day before.

In this manner they soon came out of what Desmond and his men called the badlands and into more settled territory. The next day, with the rest of his command hidden among a group of trees and rocks Jon, Ghost and his officers went forward to allow Desmond to get the lay of the land and determine where they were in relation to Wayfarer's Rest.

After a moment Desmond nodded. "We're further up into the hills and mountains than Wayfarer's Rest is, we'll have to go northeast for a time I think."

"You think?"Jon asked.

Desmond shrugged. "I've only been to Wayfarer's Rest a few times, and I've never been here before. That is my best guess, but that's all it is."

"In that case, I'll go forward with Ghost." Jon held up a hand forestalling Ser Desmond's protests. "Can you name someone else who can move as quietly and as quickly as I can?"

Desmond and the mountain clan leaders growled, but knew they couldn't. It just seemed strange for their leader to be doing so much of the scouting but they couldn't argue with the fact that he was the best they had at it.

With that Ghost and Jon were off once more, but they were back that very day, and Jon was grinning viciously. "You were right Desmond, we're somewhat further up into the mountains than Wayfarer's Rest, but we're only within a few days of it! And better, this continues for another day." he said gesturing around them to the hilly woodlands dominated by trees and rocks. "After that we'll be in the open, but we'll be so close we can rush the keep from there."

Jon's words proved prophetic. Another few days' travel, with every man now moving as quietly and silently as possible through this hardscrabble territory brought them to the edge of the mountainous area on the western side of where Wayfarer's Rest sat at the front of the passage through the mountains the River Road followed into the Westerlands. They rested there throughout the rest of the day, with Jon, Ghost and several dozen others on watch just in case someone had spotted them.

No one had, though Jon didn't know if that was because of their cover or because of complacency on the part of the Lannister forces that had remained here. Regardless, Jon's raiding party rushed out of their cover that evening, falling upon the Lannisters patrol nearest them, slaying them quickly and almost silently before rushing on to their target, the way clear for now.

Ahead of them the keep's main gate wasn't even closed, but the defenses had been upgraded somewhat. Around the central holdfast a new stone wall was going up, though only the first few feet of it had been completed anywhere along its length, and there were large gaps in it too.

Jon vaulted this wall while shouts of alarm at last began to be heard from the top of the keep's wall, where several dozen men had been patrolling with torches. "The North!" he shouted, now that the time for subterfuge had passed. "The King in the North! Winter is Coming!"

The men guarding the entrance into the keep proper were still gaping as he fell upon them swords flashing. One man went down with a gurgle his throat slit, while the other backed away rapidly holding the stubble of a hand that had recently been holding a longsword. Ghost slammed full on into a third man, taking him down to the ground and then ripping his head off with a mighty jerk of his jaws.

That was when it began to go wrong. Tywin had left more men here than Jon or Ranma had thought he would and though they didn't outnumber Jon's forces, they were much closer in parity than he had expected, and after that initial shock wore off they responded quickly. Men boiled out from deeper with the keep, slamming into Jon and the outriders of his force trying to regain control of the of the keep's gate while more of Jon's men poured in behind him.

Jon was forced to duck under a flail then fell backwards to avoid a broadsword blow coming in from his other side. One sword caught his opponent's blade guiding it past him while his other short sword thrust out, punching through the other man's chain mail guarded chest. Then another blade nearly took him in the side, but Jon dodge that by the skin of his teeth, feeling it skitter across his breastplate for a moment.

For a moment it was all Jon could do to defend, holding the doorway as more of his men came up, taking out the men that had gotten past him before he could reach it as well as from several small camps set up on the other side of the keep. A vicious melee was happening all over what had obviously been planned to become a courtyard all around him, men dying on both sides in the torchlight.

Arrows also began to fall from above, answered quickly by the archers among Jon's men, who had taken position along the rubble of the planned outer wall. Other Westerlander armsmen tried to break off and rush them, but were stopped by a force under Desmond. The element of surprise was gone, and now it was down to just numbers, steel and fury.

Ghost came out of nowhere, biting into a man's leg and tearing it off in a welter of blood, the man's screaming in agony. Not lingering over that man Ghost moved forward, head-butting another man backwards into three of his fellows. This gave Jon time enough to move back a half-step setting himself for the next charge.

Ten men came at them in a rush, but Jon darted forward again, getting in among their blades before they could respond, his shorter swords serving him in good stead. Two men died, one with his throat cut neatly the other with his intestines bleeding out from an equally neat cut below his breastplate then Jon stepped back, dodging a cut from one side blocking another from the other and kicking out at a third.

One man went down under Ghost, his blade skittering across the ground before the direwolf leaped away, dodging a spear. He then lashing out with a forepaw shattering it to the man's visible shout of dismay. "Monster, a white-furred monsteGAHHH!" At that point he had no life left to scream as Ghost's forepaw came back, smashing his face to flinders despite his helmet, while he dodged a blow from his other side.

This man wore the full plate armor of a knight, but this availed him not at all. Ghost dodged a blow from his large broadsword, then his head darted to one side, striking almost as quickly as a snake, gripping the man's arm. With a wrench of tortured metal he twisted, ripping the man's arm out of its socket despite the plate armor covering his arm and shoulder. The man cried out in agony echoing the other man's death scream, even as Ghost turned to jump over a spear thrust, lunging forward over the spear to take the spear-wielder to the ground, his fangs seeking his throat. "AGGHH, m-monster! Monster!"

The two of them held there, killing over two dozen men in the next few moments, while all around him the men who had been camped outside the keep were slowly overwhelmed despite the archers on top of the keep helping them as best they could. Soon the fear that Ghost engendered in the men facing him began to tell, and the men trying to get out of the keep Instead they fell back no doubt intent on fortifying its interior.

Jon however wasn't about to let them have any respite. He shouted aloud one short sword held up above his head. "Rally to me, rally to me!"

All around him mountain clansmen gathered, their short hatchets and broadswords bloody, their eyes afire with eagerness. "In and at them, boys!" Jon growled. "Keep up the pressure!" All the men around him nodded grimly, and Jon and Ghost led the way howling, "Winter is Coming!"

OOOOOOO

Hours later, Jon winced slightly as he stalked into the small prisoner's area to stare at the small number of prisoners among the Westerlands armsmen they had taken. He kept his wince well-hidden of course, for what he had planned right now that would be a hindrance. Ghost padded beside him, and Jon could tell that the prisoner was staring at the direwolf in horror.

At Jon's 'suggestion' Ghost hadn't yet removed the blood that practically coated his muzzle from nose to neck as well as his paws. The blood stood out starkly against his white fur, making him look all the more terrifying. Not that Ghost cared about that, direwolves were surprisingly fastidious creatures. He desperately wanted to find some water to get his fur clean, or a few moments to lick the blood off in a pinch. Now Ghost began to growled low in his throat moving forward to sniff the man who was chained to the wall.

"Now Ghost, I said you can't eat him." Jon's said mildly then went on, looking at the prisoner staring into his wide terrified eyes. "Not yet anyway. Of course that might change if I don't get the answers I wish. So tell me… friend… why are there so many supplies here, and why were there so many of you armsmen here? I would have thought that Lord Lannister would want every man he could get up with his army on the other side of the Red Fork by this time, I know my brother you see."

After only a second's frightened staring the man began to gabble. Jon held up a hand. "Calmly my friend, calmly. As long as you tell me the truth the answers don't actually matter, I just want the information. But don't try to lie. I don't like it when people lie to me and there are a dozen other prisoners I'm going to be questioning after you. And anyone of you who lies well…" Jon sighed sadly. "I haven't been able to feed Ghost well lately on the march, and he's given feeling a might hungry."

OOOOOOO

The next day dawned bright and cheery despite the bloodshed and carnage that had occurred the night before. Jon sat on the parapet right over the keep's gateway,Ghost curled up next to him as Jonhoned the edge of one of his short swords, thinking hard about what he had heard from the prisoners he had 'interrogated'. The news that even with House Blackwood having pulled their men back to Raventree Hall months back, there was still groups raiding the Lannister supply lines was excellent, as was the timing of his raid in one way, having taken Wayfarers Rest right before another convoy was due to go out.

It had explained both why there were so many supplies here, and the number of men the Lannisters had kept here. The losses among his own troops had been severe, sixty of the archers dead, along with two hundred mountain men and seventy-seven men of House Grell, not even counting the hundreds of wounded. He had barely three hundred men fit to defend this place.

That bit about a few of the raiders wearing Stark colors was interesting. Jon wondered if they were survivors of the men that his father had sent out with the force under Lord Dondarrion and the Red Priest to destroy the bandits raiding along the Westerlands and Riverlands border. Still, my job isn't to hunt them down and see if they would like to join up with us, my job is to hold Wayfarer's Rest. That might be a tall order in the long run if Tywin responds too quickly to Ranma's strategy and sends enough men back to reclaim this place.

Still, we've got that group of Westerlands stoneworkers here, and I bet they'd be willing to work for us if we promised to pay them and, you know, not torture them. Jon smirked remembering the act he and Ghost had put on early that morning. Indeed they will probably be most eager to work for us. And I don't see any of them trying to bargain a price for their services.

A moment later, Jon's thoughts turned somber. If the worst occurs I want that outer wall at least partially completed everywhere along its length, and enough stones brought in to close the entrance to the keep entirely. We've got enough supplies to last out a siege, we just need to make sure that the defenses are up to that task as well. And, I want to start building some catapults too. That way even if Tywin simply retreats down the pass unwilling to get bogged down in a siege here we'll still be her able to hurt his army.

Jon stood up, staring to the north and east. He wondered what was going on out there, wondered if Ranma had bitten off too much than even he could chew and a dozen other things that could affect not only what occurred here, but the course of the war in general.

Ghost bumped his head against Jon side from where he was laid out next to him. Jon nodded understanding the message and turned resolutely towards the staircase down from the keep's crown. He had work to do.

OOOOOOO

Stannis had not been pushing his army very hard from the moment they set out from Duskendale. For one thing, the troops he had taken off of the royal navy's war galleys needed training in land tactics and fighting in larger groups. Devoting half the day to that training of course slowed the army down. It time was well spent though, since even now only two weeks out from Duskendale their progress in their training was visible. They could now hold a decent shield wall at least in practice, and obeyed orders rather well.

He had also taken the time to begin building siege equipment near Duskendale. The further towards King's Landing you got, the less there was woods from this direction. He wouldn't have the ready source of timber that a force coming up from the south would have in the Kingswood. When this had first been ordered however, several of his lords had protested.

Stannis had replied stating, "I want us to move slowly, I want the Lannisters and Renly to soften one another up for us. We do not have the numbers necessary to take the combined Reach and Stormlands army my lords, but Renly is no general. I have no doubt that his losses will be high in any kind of siege battle, indeed I have no doubt he has already taken severe losses." Stannis's eyes did not flicker over to where Melisandre was standing, by this point he had trained himself to not let that happen.

Melisandre's visions had told him of a battle in front of the walls of the city, and of a Rose being badly burnt. He didn't know if that meant that the army had taken losses which included the men of House Tyrell in particular, or if it meant the Rose Knight Loras had been hurt in some fashion. Either way, it worked to Stannis' advantage to let his enemies continue to fight it out between them.

"And this way, we can reduce Stokeworth and Rosby, letting the troops gain valuable experience using our siege weapons and in siege warfare before moving on to the city. Remember my lords, it isn't who takes the city or even the throne, it is who can hold on to it." And that didn't even consider his wife's plans.

"I mean for us to be the ones to hold onto it. With the Navy supplying us, we would be in a good position to wait out any other army that tries to retake the city, and if the Queen can be made to confess your sins, both the Lannister and the Stark forces will have to pull back. Making peace with the Starks might be difficult at this point given certain recent events."

And here are Stannis couldn't stop himself from glaring over at Melisandre. "But when given the opportunity and so long as we can free Edmure from his captivity I have no doubt that they will be willing to retreat to the North in return for peace in the Riverlands and the Lannisters no longer having any claim on the throne." After that there no one questioned his orders further, and the army continued its slow way further south towards Rosby and then Stokeworth.

Rosby was the first to fall. Having sent most of their men to the capital, there were few left to protect the castle, and it fell in a single day. After putting together the siege engines from the parts made back in Duskendale his archers were able to sweep the walls for the precious few moments that it took to bring up a siege tower, and then his men were across. After that it was all over, though Stannis and his lords had a hard time controlling the men enough to take prisoners even so.

They succeeded in this of course, but not as many as Stannis had hoped. Worse, none of the prisoners were from House Rosby, which was a pity, as was the damage done to the hall when someone set a fire in the dining hall. This forced Stannis and the rest of the men to bunk out in their tents again.

That evening Melisandre walked into Stannis's tent. "Did you know we captured one of the fake priests of the demonic Seven?"

Stannis looked up from where he had been resting in his field chair, a canvas and wood affair that was very light and easy to move just like everything else in his tent. In that area he and Ranma were very alike, they refused to allow themselves creature comforts on campaign when their men could not. "Yes, what of it?"

He did not comment on Mellisandre's calling a follower of the Seven a demon worshipper. To followers of R'hllor, all other gods were demons, and their followers either dupes or willing demon worshippers. Though Melisandre was the first follower of R'hllor Stannis had ever met that actually believed that.

"I wish to sacrifice him to R'hllor." Melisandre said bluntly. "The sacrifice of a demon worshiper like that would give my visions much more power and possibly clarity." Melisandre was becoming increasingly frustrated by the need to interpret her visions these days rather than simply watch as events unfolded. Symbolism was something that she used and understood of course, but interpreting her visions through the lens of such was a different story.

"Are you mad woman!?" Stannis bellowed, getting to his feet and towering over Melisandre despite her own formidable height for a woman. "Most of my army still believes in the Seven! They're willing to ignore you and your R'hllor worshiping fellows, but there's a reason why I've never pushed for them to convert as I have, just as I've stopped you from creating any more Shadow Warriors since that first time, it wasn't just a logistical decision."

Carrying those large wooden boxes that the Shadow Warriors had to stay in during the day would have taken up valuable space in their supply train. For something made out of shadow they had a significant weight to them, just as if they were the men whose soul had been sacrificed to make them.

"I understood that, and I understand that men are weak and will believe whatever faith they were born into despite the truth staring them into the eyes. I agreed then and agree now with the need to wait and slowly reveal the truth to them. But I must have a more powerful, more significant sacrifice to power my visions."

"You never needed a sacrifice to power your visions before." Stannis retorted.

"I know." Melisandre said calmly, moving further into the tent. She sat down on Stannis's chair staring up at him. "But something has…shifted. Reading the future is no longer like reading a tapestry, it is like… like reading a gigantic ball of yarn made up of thousands of different colors, while you are only interested in following a few threads. It's even worse trying to scry far away events. The chaos of the moment of now is affecting the distance from which R'hllor can send my vision. If you want precise information, I must begin to sacrifice people and use that power to further my ability to scry."

Stannis ground his teeth, looking away for a moment as he thought. The information Melisandre could provide him about distant lands was invaluable in shaping his long-term strategy, and could even be extremely useful on a short term level. They were why he was in no rush to claim King's Landing, he knew that the food shortage had begun even before the true siege, and had no wish to deal with fighting his way through a hungry populace which may or may not be on his side. They were also why he knew that he had no fear of being attacked from behind or the flank, that the lion and wolf were still snarling at one another up in the Riverlands.

But are they worth the loss of trust in me that will occur if her powers are rubbed into my army's face? There were enough rumors about Melisandre's powers already. The army as a whole seemed to be ambivalent towards them, and there was no septon amongst the men of course. The healers with his army were all maesters, and such men tended not to believe in any kind of faith. But the men did, especially the levies and the armsmen from the Stormlands. One or two of the Lords were also firm believers, and they were watching Melisandre like so many hawks.

"No," he said finally, the word coming out with reluctance, but certainty. "No, I cannot afford to create the internal enemies such a sacrifice would cause to spring up." He held up the hand as Melisandre began to speak. "I know that your visions could possibly weed out such, but I can't protect you from everyone in the army that might be willing to attack you after such a move, or attack me because of my backing you. Unless you can assure me that you can sacrifice him elsewhere and make certain that not even the rumor of it could get back to the Army, I cannot allow you to do that."

Outside the tent Ser Seaworth moved away from the tent's side, certain the discussion wouldn't go anywhere. When Stannis made a decision trying to change his mind was like trying to get water from a stone. Yet despite that, Davos was frowning heavily as he walked off, trying to figure out if he was happy that the Red Witch hasn't convinced Stannis to go through with her plan, or unhappy that the reasons she hadn't been able to were so prosaic rather than simply the fact they were disgusting.

Pragmatism and the need to keep morale up is all well and good, but I would've preferred him to simply say no, I will not be party to evil like that. Pragmatism can too easily swing the other way, and when that happens will Stannis still be the man I swore allegiance to? And when that happens, will my oath to him still hold?

Back inside the tent Melisandre scowled, but after a moment she spoke up hesitantly. "If I can think of a way to sacrifice him without it seeming so, would that suffice?"

"What do you mean?"

"The false priest in question is old and very feeble." Melisandre shrugged. "Such a man could have a heart attack and go at any time. I could hasten such, and still use the power of the demon worshiper's death to power my ability to see current events further away than I can on my own. Future events would take more power and a true sacrifice to the fire of R'hllor." she finished sternly. "We will need to do so at some point."

"That point is not now." Stannis replied firmly. "As for your suggestion, such a decision can wait until after we take Stokeworth and have turned toward King's Landing. At that point I'll need to know precisely what's been going on down at the city, which might require your visions. If so, you may have your sacrifice, but not before."

Melisandre scowled, but nodded her head. "It shall be as you say, Azor Ahai."

OOOOOOO

Willas stood up from where he had been sitting in the hall of Old Oak, castle of house Oakheart as one of the servants entered. "My lady will see you in the solar my lord, please follow me." Willas nodded, trying to keep his weariness from his face and body language.

It was hard. His men had crossed the Golden River almost a week back and kept right on marching making for Old Oak as quickly as they could. To call it a retreat might be a little too harsh, but in his head at least Willas knew that was what it was. After the battle in the apple grove Willas no longer had enough men to take on the Westerlands forces in the area, and knew it.

His total losses amounted to half of his heavy cavalry, they had been lost in the ferocious melee among the apple trees, their heavier armor and weapons unable to defend against the numbers or mobility of their enemy. Their sacrifice however was all that had allowed his force to retreat in relatively good order, thus his heavy infantry hadn't suffered nearly as much, only losing about 100 men all told, though a further 70 had been so badly wounded they had died of their wounds later in the march. The levy force, the light infantry that had actually been part of the battle had lost half their number along with nearly all his local guides and several of his own scouts. He hadn't lost many archers or light cavalry but that was scant comfort.

On that same note was the fact that the Westerlands forces had pursued him across the Golden River. They were no longer attempting to head further into the Reach, seemingly intent on wiping out his small army. This didn't stop them however from ravaging the lands they marched through, and this side of the river was now feeling their depredations as well, though not to the extent of their initial victims. Smallfolk could tell the way the wind was blowing, and hundreds of families had already fled before they finished crossing the river.

Still despite my losses if this conversation goes the way I wish it, I might be able to reverse my fortunes. Willas thought to himself grimly. If it didn't, well he was prepared to remove Lady Oakheart and commandeer her men as the heir of the Lord Paramount of the Reach, regardless of his father's initial respect for her position.

Willas was led through Old Oak up to the solar on the fifth floor of the main keep. By the time he was ushered in, his maimed leg was performing its familiar refrain of pain so when the lady Oakheart ushered him into a seat Willas collapsed into it rather less gracefully than he had hoped.

Lady Oakheart sat there, and besides waving Willas into a seat didn't seem to register his presence. Instead she was reading slowly throughout a raven message, which looked quite a bit longer than most messages by ravens were. From where he was sitting Willas couldn't see any of the words, but whatever it was it was engrossing to the woman across from him. She had light brown hair like her son Arys, though it was touched with hints of grey here and there. She was small, almost delicate, yet pleasant to look upon with a comely face, and deep, intelligent eyes.

After a moment Lady Oakheart set the message down, then looked across at Willas, though her eyes were didn't seem to be registering him, simply staring through him at something else. After a moment she shook her head focusing on Willas at last. "This," she said tapping the message. "is a letter from Princess Myrcella, who apparently is traveling with the northern army. She sent it from Seagard. It's an apology of sorts and a thank you."

Myrcella had actually written that message while on the ship. She had wanted to send it off from Winterfell, but none of the ravens there trained to search out anything beyond the Neck but the Eyrie, Highgarden, Seagard, Riverrun and King's Landing.

In it Myrcella spoke about Ser Oakheart, thanking his mother for his service to her, detailing a few of the fun times they had, and her personal feelings about the man, who had acted at times as more than a knight, almost a father to her when her own was lacking in that regard. Then Myrcella described events in the city during the battle of Two Truths. Myrcella went into much greater detail than she had ever had before save with Ranma about how she had been forced to run away from the mob, how Oakheart had helped her over the fence and stayed behind, wounded sorely by that brick to the face to give Myrcella and her friend enough time to get away.

"She thanks me for my son's service, as well as telling me more about how he died in far more detail than the queen regent had. She then goes on to say that she is with the Starks by choice, and that she knows Joffrey is not legitimate."

That wasn't all Myrcella had said on that topic. She had stated 'I know no one will believe me, I know it will be my word against his, but he is a monster above and beyond his bastard origins. Even you would not believe me if I told you why in this letter, it would simply be his word against me, but he is a monster! A beast in human clothing! He has not changed in the years since he was a young boy who disemboweled a pregnant cat in order to pull out her unborn children and show them to our father as if it was something to be proud of. He was glad our brother died, I could see it in him!'

Lady Oakheart had met all three of the royal children in the past having gone to tourneys in King's Landing many a time to see her son in action and though Joffrey had never impressed her one way or the other Myrcella had always been a sweet, gentle, and observant child. She had no idea what Joffrey could've done to be called a monster, but with the accusation of incest being thrown around plus the last bit about him being glad Tommen was dead, Lady Oakheart was very much afraid she could guess.

And if that was the case, her family would never serve the Lannisters again, who were keeping that beast on the throne. Indeed, she was now more than willing to take the field against them, though she hoped to meet Myrcella in person and discover what act Joffrey had committed that had turned his sister so against him. "What would you wish of me and mine?"

An hour later Willas walked the interminable route back down, then out of the keep to where his commanders were waiting in the hall for him. "Well?" asked Ser Graceford. "Is the lady willing to pledge her men to our aid?"

"Her men will leave with us on the morning. 2000 all told, 400 heavy horse, 600 heavy infantry, 200 light horse, and the rest are scouts and archers."

Graceford whistled appreciatively while Toulev simply smiled grimly. "That more than makes up for our losses my Lord, though we might still be under strength in comparison to the Westerlands forces."

"I doubt it." Willas said disagreeing with a shake of his head. "I think they were hammered just as badly as we were in that apple grove, if not worse. Certainly the raiders they were using were. In all likelihood this will give us force parity. And Lady Oakheart shared with me that Lord Crane kept half of his force at home. We'll be able to get at least another six hundred men from him when we turn northwest."

Willas stared around at his troop leaders, his eyes hard, his face set in a grim line that none of his family had ever seen him wear back in Highgarden. "We're going to hunt those Father-damned fucker's down, then after we slaughter them to a man we're going to march up into the Westerlands and take the war to them on their own ground. I will allow for nothing less." Both men nodded grimly, agreement plain on their faces.

OOOOOOO

While Ranma was leading the lion around by the nose, Dacey and the rest of the wolfsworn and their raiding force had marched straight west, moving further and further away from the main Northern forces and the scouts from the Lannister forces that quickly began to shadow it once more. Thanks to the chaos of that night battle, and the fact that there was another force heading straight north with the wounded and the Lannister losses in that fight, they got away clean.

Still, Dacey forced them to keep moving westward away from the rest of the Northerners and therefore away from any interest from the Lannisters for now before striking out south towards the Red Fork. It didn't matter after all where along the Red Fork they intersected the River. They weren't about to go for one of the Fords anyway, they were going to swim across.

When one of their scouts reported that the Red Fork was in sight, Arya and Nymeria moved forward with the scout to look at the River. They hid along the bank for a moment as Arya looked across into the distance. From here they could see the smoke of the castle of Riverrun in the distance to their southwest and Arya decided they were too far west. If the Lannisters had any scouts on the other side of the river they would be concentrating on Riverrun and besides, it would put them closer to the supply lines they were supposed to raid.

Keeping well back from the river edge they followed it east, becoming more and more nervous with every day because that was the same direction Ranma had traveled, and they had no idea where his army or the Lannister force was at present. Thankfully Ranma had led the Lannisters well eastwards of their original position which was even further east than Arya and her force's present position.

Soon after a few days careful travel they were well enough away from Riverrun to attempt to cross, and Dacey ordered the men to stop and build a large makeshift raft which would carry their armor and weapons across. Despite the fact the Red Fork was a slow, lazy river for most of its course, the bottom of it was deep and muddy. If a person put a foot wrong in even chain mail getting him unstuck would be strenuous, noisy and dangerous work.

The following night Arya, Nymeria, and Dacey moved forward. Arya had divested herself of her chain mail, her helmet and shield, leaving even Fang behind. She only brought along a very sharp stiletto that she stuck between her teeth as she reached the river bank, gently easing herself into the river. Beside her Nymeria whined, but Arya's glare over her shoulder silenced the direwolf who hesitantly moved forward into the water as well with nary a splash.

Dacey waited for a moment then moved forward himself, her own weapons left with Roger and the others. Not only as the leader of this expedition but as the only other wolfsworn who could swim, she had to go with Arya on this. When she entered the water she made a little more of a splash than Arya or Nymeria, but not much of one despite being so much larger than Arya, who hadn't grown much since they had left Winterfell.

The two Northerners and the direwolf made their way across the river as quickly as they could without splashing too much. The Red Fork was wider here than any portion of the Green or Blue Forks they had seen on the march, but it was also much slower, and therefore they could swim it. Even so, when Dacey had nearly stuck her foot into the deep silt of the bottom she had trouble extricating herself. And in the center it was well above even her head.

Eventually however they did make their way across, pulling themselves up onto the river bank. Arya wordlessly pointed in one direction while Nymeria moved straight ahead, ignoring her wet fur for ranged out for several hours, finding and killing five men who were watching the River, as well as a few more further away who were heading towards Riverrun along the River Road, which was a little too close for their comfort.

As the noises of birds and other animals waking up began, Arya and Nymeria met up again quickly joined by Dacey who nodded. "I think we're good."

"For now anyway, I am really not happy with how close the River Road is to this place, we need to get the men across and over the road as fast as possible, we can hopefully find someplace to go to ground nearby." Arya said. Dacey nodded agreement and they moved back to the river.

Back at the river Dacey stood out in full view from theother bank, waving one hand up above her head. As they watched Daryn, Roger and the others came out up from where they had been hiding moving towards the river. They had all removed their armor already and quickly carried up the makeshift raft.

Roger through across a rope, which Dacey and Arya grabbed, with Nymeria grabbing the end of it in her jaws. While the men made their way across in groups the three of them pulled over laden raft over, with Roger and Hathan on the other side to pull it back the other way. They did this several times before the first group of men wereacross and took over.

They took over the work on the raft and Arya stretched her arms above her head, shaking her head. "That was irritating. How many days do you think we have before we get to Bracken land?"

"We'll have to keep heading south for a few days even at our best speed to get well away from the River Road before heading west to enter Bracken land. Remember their land is southeast of Lannister fortifications at the Kneeling Man's Ford, we're northwest of that now, I think." They checked with the local guides, Shawney and Mallister men who had come with them for this because they could swim. All of them agreed that was likely.

Arya nodded, then moved over to where her equipment had been laid out. She pulled out Fang testing the edge while she smiled grimly. "Four days straight south, let's move, I hate how vulnerable we are here."

Dacey raised an eyebrow at the young girl, amused that despite her protests about not wanting to lead she was so forward about giving her opinion but nodded and began to organize their men. Within an hour the raiding force was marching off, exhausted form a hard day's work already, but needing to get away from the River Road as far as they could before resting.

The small raiding force continued to travel forward, hiding however they could during the day, mostly up in trees or down and among the fallen leaves, though at one point they had to hide their entire force on an abandoned farmstead to avoid Lannister patrol, which was much more difficult. Nonetheless, they were making excellent time and Arya was almost positive that no one had spotted them yet.

Soon enough they turned further west, and entered Bracken land, finding a former riverbed to hide in during the day. Here there were even fewer patrols than elsewhere, with most of the House's strength devoted to the siege of Raventree Hall. Still, those there were wore the tabards of that family, which was enough to tell them they were at their destination, which didn't even consider the fact that for the first time since they had left Fairmarket they saw smallfolk around.

Everywhere else the smallfolk had fled ahead of the Lannister forces, here only a few families had done so, with the majority of them fleeing to Riverrun. Most however had enough faith in their lords to remain where they were, though several of them had paid for that. The Lannister army had not been kind even on the lands of their ostensible allies, the burning and pillaging was just not authorized there.

Even so the smallfolk here did not travel at night which allowed Nymeria, with Arya riding her mind, to scout all over the land in a single night, the speed of the direwolf only matched by its stealth. Nymeria was even able to get close to Stone Hedge itself, a large castle that was at least a quarter again the size of House Vypren's former seat.

Arya could see through Nymeria's eyes, and more importantly she was somewhat better than Ranma at interpreting the information Nymeria's nose took in. It was something that she had practiced with in Winterfell whenever she could, while Ranma had to concentrate on other things.

A direwolf's nose was even more sensitive than a regular wolf's which put every breed of hunting dog in Westeros to shame. Circling the castle, Nymeria could tell in a vague way how many people there were inside it, and the number shocked Arya. There were the scents of only a bare hundred and fifty men in there, and two dozen females or so. That astonished her so much that she nearly came out of her trance. Nymeria could tell that even over the smells of steel and leather that all the men stank of, like most armsmen did.

Arya kept Nymeria there, moving around Stone Hedge throughout the rest of the night then helped Nymeria find a den for the day before opening her own eyes to stare across the riverbed at Dacey. "I think we need to wait on hitting the supply lines for now." She blurted. "Nymeria found out something, something that might let us take out an even more vital target."

Over the next few days Nymeria and Arya scouted out all around, while the men stayed put, trying to not be noticed, and succeeding.

Meanwhile Arya watched through Nymeria's eyes as the men of House Bracken went out from Stone Hedge once to take what looked like a lot of foodstuffs from the local smallfolk, gathering it into the keep. The very next day a group of armsmen wearing the tabards of various Westerlands houses arrived with several carts. They left that same day, their carts now laden with far more supplies then the House Bracken men had gathered in. Two days later, while the men around her were getting restless, Arya and Nymeria watched as a large group of Lannister men arrived from the southwest, with several dozen laden carts.

"The stuff the House Bracken armsmen brought in must be just fresh bread and other things like that." Arya explained to Dacey and the others. "House Bracken must've already gathered as much foodstuffs as they could into the keep, and Stone Hedge has also become a major point along the supply line from the Westerlands. Ranma was right, the Lannister army can't live off the land very well, if at all! We need to take it, now!"

"Our orders were just to raid the supply lines, not try to take a castle on our own." Dacey protested. "Even a hundred men could hold that keep against us if they were prepared, and you said they were much more alert than the men Vypren's seat had guarding it."

That much was true. The Bracken armsmen were much more experienced, and they patrolled the walls day and night, and not with torches to take out their night vision either. The towers were also manned, and they did have lights inside, but the archers in them would be easily able to spot any attacking force coming out of the farmlands around the keep, which was the other issue: there was very little in the way of cover anywhere around Stone Hedge. The Bracken keep had been besieged several times, while Vypren never had. All in all it was a much tougher target despite the defenders lack of manpower.

"Yes, but I think the gains are worth the risk!" Arya argued back, practically growling as she stood across from the older woman, the rest of the wolfsworn moving backwards slightly to let the two women argue it out. "If we raid the supply lines, we'll only be able to do so much damage before they assign too many men to protect their supply convoys! If we take Stone Hedge and Jon's taken Wayfarer's Rest, they lose the two most important points along their supply line, and you know Ranma's going to be coming from the west, they'll either have to fort up and starve or retreat out of the Riverlands south."

Dacey scratched a small scar on her arm for a moment, thinking while staring hard at the younger girl. "That's all well and good, but do you have a plan that might let us do that without being mauled? It won't do any good if we take Stone Hedge without enough men to hold it."

"Yes, I do!" Arya replied, now actually moving closer to Dacey so they were almost standing chest to chest, or rather stomach to head given the disparity in their heights. "We use the same trick the Lannisters tried to use at Fairmarket, only modified a little. Also remember, there'll be hostages to be taken in there as well, if we can get into the castle itself, I bet the defenders will surrender." Arya went on describing her plan, and eventually Dacey nodded, realizing it actually was workable.

Later that night, Dacey, Arya and Nymeria moved out with a few of the local guides. They moved through the scrubland that marked this area of Bracken land they moved north, intending to cut off the road leading to Stone Hedge from the fortifications at the Kneeling Man forward. They had all spread out, which made it easier for them to move silently with Nymeria well ahead of the Arya and the others.

For now the two northern girls, or rather one woman and one girl were alone as they moved through the brush, silent and quiet is only the wolfsworn could be after months of being trained for times like this by Ranma. That thought made Dacey pause for a moment, wondering how long Ranma had been planning to have the wolfsworn act as… she didn't know the word for it really, special raiding force? The fact of the matter was that all of their training had put them on a pedestal well above any normal opponent they could face, though the real, long term implications of that hadn't truly sunk until this war. They had become a tactical and strategic resource, not just warriors several cuts above the norm.

However Dacey pushed that thought to the back of her mind, she had something else she needed to do right now. The two of them were now moving through the night closer together now thanks to having passed through a bit of brush and were now into a small copse of trees. And the other scouts were well out of hearing range, there would be no better time for it. "For someone who didn't want to be in charge Arya you pushed hard for this change in our plans."

"It makes sense," Arya shrugged, keeping her own voice low. "Stone Hedge doesn't have the manpower to face us in an open battle. If we can get inside we win. We win a lot more than we would if we were just raiding the supply lines."

"I know that, and I agreed with your reasoning or else we wouldn't be out here right now." Dacey said slowing her pace down and reaching out to touch Arya on the shoulder to slow her down in turn.

The Mormont woman's voice was a whisper in the dark of the thicket, but intense and stern for all of that. "But I was the one given this command, I am in charge. When we go into battle, I need all the men to look to me. I can't have them up pause even for a second wondering whose commands they should follow or who they should look to for orders. Don't challenge me like that again, not in front of the troops."

Arya's bared her teeth reflexively at the admonishment in Dacey's voice and she knocked the older woman's hand away from her shoulder growling. It was a very wolf-like sound, which made Dacey scowled. She had been afraid of this. Arya crouched, almost as if she was about to lunge at Dacey, Fang forgotten at her side.

However Dacey was much faster than most would assume looking at her, and while she wasn't up there in strength in terms of the wolfsworn, neither was Arya. Arya found herself lifted out of the air and slammed back against the tree behind her. "Control it." Dacey growled in her ear. "Don't let the wolf in that far! You're human girl, remember that."

Arya growled a little, but she slowly got control of herself. After a moment she nodded shakily, waving off Nymeria, who had appeared out of the trees growling deep in her cavernous throat at the site of her bonded human being manhandled by the bear woman. "Sorry." Arya grunted. "I've been warging with Nymeria too often lately. Jon and Ranma warned me something like this might happen, but I didn't believe them. Sorry."

"I don't need an apology, girl." Dacey said backing away and cuffing the younger girl in the back of the head. Arya grinned, having always enjoyed have Dacey simply treated her like a young boy rather than a young woman to tell the truth, regardless of her status as a Stark. "I said the plan was good, and it shows that you might be ready for command whatever your reflex reaction might have said. But if you want the command, you can't just challenge me like a wolf would challenge the alpha for the leadership of the pack. Humans don't do it like that understand?"

"I just needed to be reminded." Arya muttered, nodding her head. "And I'm not ready, I don't have the situational awareness you need to be able to give orders in battle, I didn't do that when the Lannisters attacked that night no matter what anyone thinks. I simply shouted at people and gathered them to me, after that I didn't try to organize them or anything."

"That sounds a heck of a lot like giving orders in battle to me." Dacey replied dryly. "If you think you can do a better job, we'll transfer the command to you, tell the men about it, and be human about it, not like a wolf. And you're cutting back regardless on your warging times with Nymeria."

Arya nodded, drooping a moment in weariness. Crisis averted Dacey moved off again through the copse of trees with Arya and Nymeria following behind.

At one point the trail they were following at a distance might have been barely used, but since the Lannister forces had begun to dig in on their side of the Red Fork that had of course changed. Now it was pitted and rutted with use, all of the nearby plants having been chopped away. There were very few places along its edge where an ambush could succeed now, but Dacey and the others persevered. They found a place eventually, where the drovers would stop about a day and a half is out from Stone Hedge.

There wasn't much cover there, but the northerners were good at this game. Certainly better than the Westerlanders, especially here in territory they knew they and their allies controlled. It wasn't like the bad area nearest the Mummer's Ford, where there was still cases of brigandry. So there were only twelve guards, and five drovers. Following them even during the day was child's play for Nymeria and Arya, even without Arya riding Nymeria's mind to it.

A little while after the next the convoy arrived at the watering hole, the Northerners and their Riverlands allies came out of the scrub brush all around, dropping down from one or two trees that were near the watering hole, or in Dacey's case bursting out from the small pool of water.

Dacey's claymore also came up out of the water, gutting a man who had just been about to drop a waterskin into the water. His body fell to the side, and Dacey absently kicked it away from the water so that it wouldn't pollute it before charging forward. Roger and Hathan came in from both sides, leading ten of the Northerners apiece to make certain that there wasn't any way the defenders could get away.

However instead of being armed with swords or anything within edge, all of them were armed with long clubs which made the battle a little more difficult than it would otherwise have been. But only a little. The man who had been marching alongside the wagons fell quickly, and then a few Northerners leaped up onto the wagons, knocking unconscious the drovers before pushing them off the carts.

Two men on horseback at the back of the small party tried to turn away, but Nymeria was there snarling. The sight of a monstrously huge wolf and the sound caused both horses to rear up in abject terror, throwing their unprepared riders off. One landed awkwardly on his neck, then fell limp, and the other one found itself facing Nymeria face-to-face as his horse ran off. A second later only both horses were hit by arrows from a few archers who hadn't participated in rest of the attack. Horses after all would return to the herd, and that could give the game away just as easily as anything else.

"And now we strip them or all you strip them," Arya said, growled, somewhere between irritated and embarrassed, looking away suddenly. "I don't think any of them have anything that would fit me."

It turned out that none of them had anything that would fit either Arya or Dacey. For all that she was a warrior and had been trained as such for most of her life Dacey still had feminine curves and a generous chest, far too much of one to even fit into either the guard's armor or wear the drovers clothing and look like anything but a woman. Arya of course didn't have any chest yet, something she was glad of. But she was also short, far too short for any of the clothing they had just taken to fit her.

So both women hid in one of the carts at the back of the convoy, Nymeria barely fitting between them, rumbling discontentedly at the tarpaulin over them. Arya tried to shush her bonded direwolf, succeeding for several moments at a time while the convoy wound its way down the road towards Stone Hedge.

Each of the convoy's carts had five men lying under the tarpaulins. The rest of the raiding force were waiting near Stone Hedge, hidden here and there in small groups three to ten men strong, ready to rush forward the moment the castle's gates were taken.

On the front cart Roger and Hathan were sitting together. Roger wore the uniform of one of the guards, whose colors, a blue rooster on a yellow background, was from one of the Westerlands Houses, a Knightly House if he was remembering it right. Though why any self-respecting knight would put a rooster on their banner is beyond me. Hathan on the other hand hadn't fit anything the guards had so he dressed up as one of the drovers instead.

"A thought occurred to me just now." Roger murmured, as they began to see Stone Hedge in the distance. Hathan grunted, which Roger took to mean he could keep speaking. "What if the guards in Stone Hedge know the guards on the convoy? We only watched one convoy after all, it could be the same guards every time, or it could be a set amount of guards all of whom the Bracken men might know."

"That is not a thought I want to hear at this moment." Hathan said, breaking his habitual silence, reaching across and thumping Roger on the shoulder. "You were all for this plan when Arya came up with it, you could have said something then."

"Yes, but it didn't occur to me then. Did you notice the bit of tension that started between Dacey and her, rather interesting I thought. The little wolf has grown up quite quickly."

Hathan grunted noncommittally. "She's still got a bit of growing to do."

"Yes, but the plan was good. The details, they are not pleasant to contemplate."

"You mean the part where it might be the two of us against over a dozen archers on a four-story tall wall?" Hathan murmured, the cart having trundled on during their discussion.

"Exactly that detail, yes." Several moments later, that moment happened, as they came close enough to hail the archers up on the wall. Roger did so, the only one of them who didn't have a distinct northern accent, hence why sitting in the front cart.

A few of the archers actually waved back, then both men held their breaths as the portcullis slowly began to open and the cart began to trundle into the gate area, which was barely a cart's length long. It was only a few seconds before the portcullis at the far end of the gateway began to open, but even so for both men they stretched on like years, the murder holes above them so potent with threat. Yet none appeared.

The inner portcullis and the gate there opened allowing the convoy through the gate area and out into the courtyard of the castle. As the last cart trundled under the portcullis a dozen servants began to hurry towards them from the stables, and even a few guardsmen were also moving towards them from the barracks area. There it began to go bad. One of the guards said "Here, you're not Lawrence, where's the regular lot?"

At that the men in the carts all boiled out, with Dacey and Arya being the first. "Winter is Coming, traitors!" Arya shouted.

Immediately the men on top of the wall turned and began to fire. Several of the Northerners went down to their bows, though a few others also pulled out their own longbows and fired back, taking out a few of the defenders, since the wall lacked any cover on its interior.

Nymeria bounded out of the cart, causing cries of dismay and fear, which were exacerbated a second later when she began to howl loudly. After which she joined Arya, rushing over towards the gatehouse.

That was the signal for the rest of the Northerners outside the castle to start rushing the gate. Seeing that, several of the archers on the wall turned and took them under fire, but the Northerners and their Riverlands allies rushed on.

Arya and Dacey slammed into the inner doorway leading into the gatehouse, taking the archers stationed there from behind. Fang slew the first man who turned, slicing his leather armor from side to shoulder in one swift movement before coming back to sliced through another man's arm as it was hastily raised in defense, Fang's edge glowing slightly blue. Dacey barreled in after her, her claymore out and piercing one man through the shoulder causing him to scream aloud while she turned to her next opponent.

Outside more of the Northerners had fallen to the bows of the Bracken men, but the first two groups from outside the castle had raced into the courtyard, their own archers firing back against those on the wall while Roger and Hathan led the charge forward over the bodies of the nearest guards, ignoring the screams of the servants as they scattered. Roger shouted, "I'll hold the door to the keep, you head for the barracks!"

Hathan didn't bother replying, simply veering off at the head of a dozen men. He winced as an arrow slammed into his shoulder and almost penetrated his ill-gotten leather armor, the only type that could fit under his disguise. He lamented his plate armor's loss for a moment then he had no more time to do so as the men in the barracks boiled out. However for the most part they hadn't been wearing their armor either.

Hathan dodged one man's blow who was wielding a heavy axe that almost looked as large as Roger's, before punching the man hard enough in the stomach to make the air whoosh of his lungs while he blocked another blow from someone else's sword with his own longsword held in his other hand. He tried to thrust forward to catch the other man, but he was too used to his own weapon and misjudged his lunge. The greatsword he wielded from horseback had to be left behind with the rest of the men after all it would have stood out in an infantryman's hand.

He felt his armor rip along one side, the leather parting as another man tried to open up his side, but Hathan had twisted away at the last moment. Hathan's arm came back, his own sword slashing the other man's leather armor and cutting deep into the area between his shoulder and neck. "The Mander, the Mander for the King of the North!"

Roger was having similar difficulties, only worse. There were five men who led the charge out from the keep. There were only six other men with them, but the five in the lead wore the plate armor of knights, and the men behind them also wore chest plates of the better sort of armsmen. Roger and his men met them in the open area right before the keeps doors, and the defenders held for a precious few moments as the doors slammed shut behind them.

"Old God's damn it!" Roger bellowed even as he blocked a blow from one man's greatsword changing its direction enough to come up inside the man's range and slamming his elbow into his gorget with enough force to crumple the plate there and crush the jugular beneath. That man fell and Roger let his own blade fall to the ground, grabbing up the man's greatsword, coming around with a blow that blocked another man's greatsword pushing him to one side.

Around him three Northerners were already down, for only one of the Bracken men, but more Northerners were racing forward while more and more of them entered the gate, which was now firmly in the Northerners hands. "Surrender!" Roger yelled, going chest to chest with one of the other knights and then throwing him backwards in a show of strength that no one but another wolfsworn could've matched. The man actually left the ground for 15 feet before slamming into another man carrying him into the now closed gates of the keep.

That gave the other Bracken men pause and Roger raised the greatsword pointing it at them. Behind him Arya and Nymeria came up, blood on Fang and her fangs. "Surrender! You will be well treated, you and your charges inside."

Even with the sight of the monstrous wolf baring down on them they didn't surrender and the battle in the courtyard continued, with another knight falling as Nymeria bore him to Earth, while Roger cut an armsmen almost in two with his borrowed blade. For some reason however he couldn't push his knife energy into the edge.

Above them in the keep a few archers began to fire down at the Northerners in the courtyard, their fellows having already been swept from the walls. The battle was particularly vicious in front of the barracks, and Hathan took a blow from a mace that cracked several of his ribs and a cut to his thigh that only a last-minute turn kept from taking his leg off entirely. His return blow however split the man from shoulder to crotch despite his plate armor, and by that point Nymeria and Arya were there, having left Roger and Dacey to guard the gate of the keep.

The northern and Riverlands archers raced up to the castles walls, half of them looking out while the other half began to fire into the keep from a much more equal position despite the fact that they were open to return fire. Several more died then, but they also silenced the defenders in the keep.

The last group of Northerners entered, a force of five that had been working on a small battering ram. Once they entered, Dacey and Arya ordered the portcullis closed. This castle was not like house Vypren's seat, there was only the one outer gate, and it was now firmly in the Northerner's hands.

Dacey turned from the entrance to the keep with Roger, moving over to see to Hathan. "You lead the attack inside." she ordered, looking at Arya. "Remember, we want prisoners and we don't want this to turn into a slaughter."

"A little late for that." Arya murmured, wiping Fang on a dead man's tunic, the man had not even had time to pull on his armor. "Still I understand what you meant."

She moved over to stand in the open in front of the keeps doorway, shouting aloud. "Open your doors and surrender, we don't want to slaughter here! You will be well treated if you surrender now, but we can't guarantee your safety if you keep fighting!"

For a moment she seemed to hear an argument going on, a man's voice and a woman's voice arguing shrilly, the woman's voice demanding that they surrender while the man said the they could hold out. Hearing that, Arya shook her head and gestured at the men carrying the battering ram. "Knock it down."

She then looked over at the rest of the men who were waiting around the keep's gate. "After me." She growled, her teeth bared almost like Nymeria's, who was standing behind her, as tall now at the shoulders as a horse. "And if any of you even think of killing a servant, I will gut you and feed you to Nymeria."

With a true bonded's ability to get the timing just right Nymeria turned with her teeth bared in a snarl. The Riverlanders and Northerners all nodded, the thought of taking a little bit of revenge for their dead friends disappearing from their minds for a moment. It wasn't anything personal, they were just men. But even that the best of men, after they had just seen friends die, could commit acts that they wouldn't normally.

It only took five swings of the small battering ram to smash the gates of the keep open. Stone Hedge's defenses had been so good that an interior defense hadn't seemed a priority. Arya and Nymeria entered quickly, cutting down two men who had been trying desperately to stack some furniture in the way with a group of male servants who backed away hurriedly.

One of them even screamed so loudly Arya stopped for a moment. "Are you a man, or a little girl?"

The man actually had the courage to look insulted for a moment while the rest of the Northerners raced inside.

"Never mind." Arya grunted. "On your knees and your hands above your heads and stay that way." With more northern barbarians entering the servants surrendered quickly, showing much more sense than the remaining defenders.

There were only about fifteen or so of those remaining defenders, led by an old knight with white hair and a walrus mustache that reminded Arya, after she pulled Fang out of his stomach, of Lord Manderly. But the man obviously hadn't had even a quarter of that Lord's intelligence if he thought they could've held out. She glared over at a statuesque woman standing in front of three daughters of various ages ranging from older than Arya to one who was younger. The younger girl was watching her avidly, her eyes wide and staring.

Arya knew that look, she had seen it in the mirror often enough and she wondered if maybe she'd just found another girl who wanted to be a warrior rather than any of the roles her genders set for her. For now however she couldn't take the time to find out. "Lady Bracken?"

"I am she, and you are?" The lady almost contrived to sound contemptuous, but there was a bit of a tremble to her voice that told Arya how terrified she was.

"I am Arya Stark, granddaughter to your Lord Paramount and brother of his current representative." Arya replied bluntly, watching the woman pale slightly. "This castle is ours now. You and your daughters will be well treated, so long as you make no attempt to escape, both you and your servants."

"And what will happen in the future?" said one of the daughters, moving around her mother to face Arya squarely, more self-assured now that they weren't about to be raped.

"That will depend on what happens elsewhere." Arya said shrugging. We'll hold this castle until we're relieved, but you can bet your house will be punished for backing Lord Lannister."

"The crown." Lady Bracken said cool coldly. "We backed the crown and the crown's representatives. Lord Lannister is the current King's grandfather, and the evidence of Lord Edmure's treason was telling."

"And it gave your husband the chance to do what he always wanted, try to move against House Blackwood." Arya replied sarcastically. "Besides, evidence is always compelling if you only see one side of it! I'm not here to discuss politics with you, you're not intelligent enough and I don't care enough. You may retain your rooms, but there will be guards on the doors at all times, and the servants will only interact with you when guards are present. Do I make myself clear?"

All the women there nodded, cowed slightly by Arya's wild eyes, although the youngest was no longer staring at Arya. She was staring at the direwolf that had padded through the doorway behind the strange, short warrior woman. She pulled at her bigger sister's dress and pointed. "Can I have one of those?"

Arya laughed, shaking her head and rubbed at Nymeria's muzzle for a moment as she came up directly behind Arya. She winked at the youngest girl, then moved off leaving the family to themselves while she placed guards outside the room and then ordered another man to drag the body of that old knight away.

Thanks to Arya's bloodthirsty threat there hadn't been any kind of slaughter among the servants, though the defenders hadn't been so lucky, killed to a man. They only took 22 prisoners among the armsmen of the house mostly from the barracks, but only two servants had died, one when he tried to attack a Northerner from behind with a kitchen knife, and another from a heart attack when the Northerners had barreled into his room.

By the time the sun was starting to lower, the Northerners were ensconced in the castle, their injured were being seen to by their own men and the servants, and the walls were more defended than they had been before the attack. Stone Hedge had fallen and with it and Jon's assault though Lord Tywin didn't know it, his army's supply line.

OOOOOOO

Loras sat outside of his tent, watching in the distance as catapults once again began to fire on the city. From where he was sitting he could see over a dozen of them, mostly of mid-size for the breed. They fired rocks the size of a man farther than an archer could shoot. They slammed with thunderous force into the outer walls of the city, but their thick stone withstood the punishment with ease.

The same could not be said for the catapults, a few of whom were hit by return fire as he watched, the defenders much larger pieces of rock, which were larger than the catapults boulders slamming into or around the catapults with devastating results. The trebuchets of the defenders were incredibly accurate for some reason, and much longer range than anything the army had been able to build thus far. They had their own trebuchets being made near the Kingswood, but they were weeks away from being completed.

While the men around the catapults went to work trying to repair what they could, Loras turned away in disgust, wincing as the move aggravated the wounds on his shoulder and neck. His wounds were nowhere near healed, but already Loras could tell that he would be scarred for life. Indeed when he looked in the mirror Loras could only remember how many jokes he had heard or taken part in talking about Sandor Clegane and his burned face. Not much fun on this side of joke, is it? Loras thought darkly.

The loss of his good looks was not the only thing bothering the Knight of Roses, more worrisome was the fact that since he had been injured he hadn't seen his lover Renly. He had seen his father often, practically every other day, but Renly had not stopped by. Despite being king, Loras knew that Renly could've made time to see him if he wanted to. No, Renly was deliberately avoiding him. That hurt, that hurt a lot! And what does it say about our love that when I'm injured like this he doesn't find the courage in himself to come and see me? Was our relationship that shallow?

Filled with dark thoughts Loras took one last look at the city in the distance then moved back into his tent determined to drink himself into a stupor.

OOOOOOO

"The fire of the defensive catapults is amazing my lords," said Lord Risley, who had been put in charge of the siege equipment along with Lord Cafferen, who was in charge more of building them rather than using them. "We lose one or two of our own every time we use them despite trying our best to move them after each launch. No matter how hard we try, the trebuchet's can range on them anywhere around the city."

"We've battered portions of the wall, but we haven't done enough damage to cause a breach." Renly murmured. "We know that the siege is working. There is no way that the defenders can keep feeding themselves and the smallfolk, and eventually the smallfolk will turn on them but it galls me to have to sit here and wait like this. Do we have any further news about the second echelon, or where my brother is?"

"Your brother seems to have turned aside from a direct route to the city,your majesty" said the leader of their scouts, Lord Steadmon who was also in charge of gathering information from the smallfolk settlements that were well away from the besieging army. There weren't many smallfolk courageous enough to remain on their land so close to any army, but there were a few. It was that aspect of his job that allowed Lord Staedmon to keep a tab on where Stannis was in broad terms. "He's making for Castle Stokeworth my Lord, should be there within another week or so, he's going very slowly for some reason."

"Interesting," said Renly murmuring to himself, "I wonder why he's moving so slowly?" No one there, not even Randyll knew the answer to that one and Renly shrugged his shoulders. "The second echelon?"

"They should have reached the edge of the Kingswood by now and coming up the Kingsroad my liege, I estimate another one or maybe a week and a half before they arrive." Mace said, knowing his second son Garlan would be pushing them hard.

"Good. That will give us enough men to both keep the siege going and turn to engage Stannis if need be."

"You assume that he is going to fight us your Majesty?"Said one lord from the Reach.

"Yes I do for two reasons." Renly replied, smiling thinly. "Stannis is a prideful man, and very certain about his rights. He will not wish to bend the knee to me, whatever the size of our army, or the fact that all know he would make a horrible king. He believes himself our older brother's heir, and he will act upon it. Moreover, there are the rumors of his changing to fire worship to think about. Madness!" Renly shook his head. "Sheer madness! Could any right thinking follower of the Seven consider such a thing?"

There were firm headshakes all around. The Faith of the Seven had the most hold on the people of the Reach, even the lords there believed in some of its tenants if not all of them. What rumor said about the Red Witch horrified them.

"No, Stannis will fight. Oh, I'll try to parlay with him, but it's doubtful it'll get anywhere. Best to assume the worst after all, and plan accordingly."

OOOOOOO

At the same time that Jaime was leading the defense of the city against this latest assault, the small council were meeting to discuss other problems. "The food situation is becoming grave your majesties." Petyr said, for once simply stating the truth without having any ulterior motive. "Your decision to cut rations even further to the smallfolk my Lord has had a hugely detrimental effect on morale in the city."

"It had to be done." Rupert replied his face like stone for a moment. "If they're not involved in the siege, they don't need to keep up their strength like those who are."

"The city is still receiving some food, but not much. The Lyseni pirates are after all pirates, and their various captains have set up a black market to make some money on the side, selling food to anyone who can meet their price." Varys said. "I have moved to take control of that and I've done my best to keep the prices down, but even so I know that some of the pirates continue to trade directly to the smallfolk who can pay for them. The smallfolk have begun to prey on one another even more than usual in order to get the money to pay for food, but that is like an animal eating its own tail. Eventually they will turn on us if we don't start allowing more food to pass on to them."

Rupert frowned rubbing at his face. The fact of the matter was you could not prepare a city for siege. It was simply impossible, unless the city had been built with that in mind. King's Landing certainly had not been, and this led to problems. The food was only one factor, the shanty towns built up outside the walls had been another, but that had been solved by this point. But that left the sheer numbers of smallfolk, the general clutter of the city and the fact the walls demanded nearly all of his men and the gold cloaks to defend them. The Red Keep had its own garrison, as did all of the food depots, but Rupert was beginning to fear he would have to move the food someplace else. Once that news spread, well…

The Queen and Joffrey both frowned too. Lord Serret had forced both of them to cut back on their own food, as well as the rest of the court here in the Red Keep and to say that had been an unpopular decision was putting it mildly. Still Cersei had understood the reasoning, and with her backing even Joffrey had been forced to accede to Rupert's demands. Of course they still ate far better than the common soldiers let alone the smallfolk, but at this point that wasn't saying much.

"If the Pirates are willing to sell foodstuffs to us, would they be willing to turn their coats entirely?" Cersei asked. "I know you said before that such would demand too high a price Varys, but at the moment we are in a cleft stick."

"It would depend upon what the so-called 'Prince of the Inland Sea' has been offered." Varys replied shrugging his shoulders. "As the sale of foodstuffs have been from single captains here and there, I haven't been able to discover whether or not the Saan is even aware of them. If he was, that could be a clue that he could be persuaded to change sides, but I don't think we have enough time to wait for that. I do know Saan is friendly with the Onion Knight, who is Stannis' right-hand man, so his breaking with Stannis is unlikely in any event."

"Nor is food the only thing that is harming the morale of the smallfolk my Lords." Varys went on. "While the Faith might have backed us initially, the Most Devout's ardor has since cooled dramatically. Lord Renly is proclaiming his own position as a defender of the faith, and promising to bring in enough food to feed the entire city if the gates are open for him. It's a shrewd move on his part, and it is slowly gaining momentum among the smallfolk, despite mine and Varys best efforts to combat it in various ways."

"Which doesn't even consider the atrocities of the one the smallfolk have taken to call by the Vile One." Around Varys the small council members all sat forward, this was something new.

At this Varys smiled thinly, but there was no humor in it. "For the past two weeks, possibly more, there have been murders committed in the city, far above the norm of everyday city life. Some of the victim's bodies have been mutilated in horrible ways, then left out on the roads for anyone to find. Whores have gone missing only to be found dead, used in a horrible manner then their bodies abused further before they too were left like so much trash. This is happening all across the city my lords, not just in Fleabottom, and it is effecting morale of every class of smallfolk.

To one side Petyr very carefully let no trace of his thoughts show on his face, merely looking attentive while inside he squirmed, cursing himself for getting into bed with the devil and Cersei and her brother for bringing said devil into the world. He had thought that he could redirect Joffrey's urges into whoring, he had been wrong. Oh, he took up that too, even saw it as a way to prove he was his father's son by showing how good he was at rutting, but afterward, he always 'played' with the whores he found, beyond simply giving them to his men. And he sometimes simply grabbed a random person off the street to torture for pleasure.

Thankfully he knows how to keep his identity secret, the clothing he wears and not actually talking while outside the Red Keep, plus having his guards always wear different sets of armor, none of which have anything that could identify them. And while it's disgusting, helping to feed Joffrey's appetites have allowed me to insinuate myself into his power base, which gives me some measure of protection against Serret, and that makes it all worth it. Petyr very carefully squashed the small voice in his head that another person would have called his conscience when it tried to argue against that sentiment, but he couldn't quite silence it entirely.

"I have not been able to find any clues as to his identity, but rumors make him some kind of noble with a group of ten men at most who follow his every commands, partaking in every dark deed. They are also able to move around the city freely, disappearing during the day to come out at night and prey upon the smallfolk. The rumors have even given him a name, the Vile One."

Joffrey's eyes narrowed, having hoped for some more powerful name. The Vile One was interesting, but he wanted to be known as the Cruel, or the Deadly. Those had some kind of power to them that the Vile One lacked. Still, no one can control rumor to that extent, he thought philosophically. The idea that his actions could have a negative effect on him or his family never occurred to Joffrey. The smallfolk were animals, animals he as king owned. They were there to be used in whatever manner he wished to use them.

"I want that stopped." Rupert growled. "We have too many problems already with keeping the smallfolk under control for that kind of villainy to be added to the ledger. I want this Vile One found, then I want him executed in public." He paused for a moment, thinking hard. "As for the food situation, I'll meet with Jaime and he and I will devise some way to defend the barracks along the walls, making the walls and the gates in particular able to defend themselves from internal attack. After that, we'll talk about moving all the foodstuffs we can to the wall and the Red Keep as quickly and circumspectly as we can, as well as the forces we have defending them. I doubt we'll get away with it, but the defenders need to keep their strength up, and as I said earlier, the smallfolk don't. We can win back their loyalty after we win the war."

"We should also ask the High Septon and the council of the Most Devout to move up to the Red Keep, it's certainly more defensible than the Grand Sept of Baelor." Petyr spoke up, understanding what Serret was planning for.

"Agreed." Serret answered grimly, shaking his head at the necessity of planning for a smallfolk rebellion. Most of those around the table were wondering how bloody it would become, thought Joffrey was simply thinking morosely that he would have to cut back on his playtime.

Over the next four days, the defenders of the city got to work, destroying several hundred houses that were near the wall on the inside to create open fire areas, building up defensive walls around the trebuchets, and manning them, while secretly moving the food in the supply depots to the Red Keep and to the walls in small lots. All but the last were noticed by the smallfolk of the city, but that was enough, and small scale riots began to spring up throughout the city. They grew larger over time.

OOOOOOO

Since the last clash Ranma and his forces had been heading westward towards the Ruby forward as fast as they could. Their speed however at this point was much less than it had been initially, they had a lot more wounded, and the army it in its entirety was exhausted from the constant moves marches and battles. Their morale was still high however, and their trust in Ranma was absolute.

Despite the morale of his force still being high however, Ranma knew this was the make or break moment of his entire campaign, the gamble of all gambles. They had to keep ahead of their pursuers now, the army could not afford to be stopped or even turned aside, they were too low on food and energy. Luckily the chance he had taken by seemingly forting up a few days before paid off, having sucked in all the small forces that could get in front of his army.

Two days after that battle the army marched over the crest of a small hill and left behind a small copse of bushes and trees and suddenly Ranma that knew that his gamble had paid off. Because at that moment, while marching at the back of the column, Ranma could hear the cheers begin. Suddenly the men weren't so weary anymore, like racers who had just spotted the finishing line they summoned up some last vestige of endurance.

Ranma looked at Rickard and Patrek, who were riding beside him. Rickard was nearly drooping in the saddle with weariness after the past few weeks but the older man laughed quietly shaking his head. "It would appear as if your wife did it Ranma," he murmured shaking his head. "I didn't think she would honestly."

"I had faith." Ranma said laughing and reaching up to slap the other man on his thigh before racing off. Soon enough he and Fenris were at the front of the column.

About twelve leagues ahead of them directly on this side of the Ruby Ford there was an army camp, with the grey wolf on white banner flying over it at the front, and several other banners alongside it including Umber, Tully, and all the houses from the eastern side of the Green Fork. Ranma laughed. In all honesty, he had thought that Danny would only be able to get a few of the houses from the eastern side of the Riverlands to agree to stand with them,he had not been impressed by what Brynden had told them of Roote or Ryger, let alone Wayn. But the only banner that wasn't there was House Wayn. That was amazing.

Ranma turned to his men, a wide grin on his face. "Alright you louts! Let's get a move on, I don't know about you, but I hear a damn good meal calling my name!"

The soldiers all around him laughed, and the troops marched forward with a will as they began to hear the shouts and cheers of their fellows and even the new Riverlands forces. Units of light cavalry began to ride toward them from the camp, circling the northern host where shouts and greetings were exchanged. Watching that Ranma fell back to the end of the column, ordering Lord Shawney and Rickard to take command and to keep the men moving while he fell further and further back to meet up with Meera.

"You're not going to come forward with us to meet your lady?" Rickard asked one eyebrow rising in surprise.

"We need to make certain that the Lannisters aren't doing anything surprising, who better than me to do it?"

"You need to learn delegation Ranma." Said Rickard seriously reaching down to grip his 'nephew's' shoulder." Tell Meera to do it, she's proven her worth over the last few weeks, and you know I didn't want her with us. You cannot risk yourself like that any longer unless no one else can perform the job, and in this case Meera can. Besides, I think you and your lady should have some time together after so long apart."

Rickard didn't say that because he was a romantic. He didn't want to come out and say it, but he and he thought the other lords would very much like to see Daenerys pregnant already. Yes, he knew all the reasons why she had to be with the army, but in the end he felt that as a sign of stability you couldn't beat solidifying the line of succession.

"There are others that have been separated from their loved ones for far longer than us, uncle." Ranma said though the words came out weakly as he really did want to see Daenerys. He had missed her dearly of the last few weeks.

"But none as important as you and the queen, and again you cannot continue with this habit of risking yourself without truly good cause. Being in the forefront of the battle is one thing, leading the scouts from the front, or simply scouting around by yourself at night could also be excused considering your skills with that wolf of yours at times. But not now, not when everything is riding on the next battle, especially not since you've set the whole campaign up like that."

Ranma sighed but nodded, and waited with Rickard for Meera to catch up with them.

That was much easier than he had expected, because Meera was already coming up with the last of her scouts. She waved her bow at him, shaking her head when she saw Ranma waiting for her. "The Westerlands scouts fell back, I think a few of them got around us enough to spot the rest of the army."

Ranma nodded then when she joined them gave Meera her new orders.

Meera sighed but turned waving her hand again as she ordered the few scouts in site to fall back into the scrub with her. The last week or so had been hard on her men even in comparison to the rest of the campaign, and they had taken serous casualties. In total she only had fifteen or so trained scouts left, when she had started out with over a hundred, though thankfully half that number were missing not because they were dead but because they had been wounded and ordered to retreat to Fairmarket with Daryn.

Ranma walked at the head of his army into the combined Riverlands/Northern camp, exchanging greetings with Greatjon, who reached down out of the saddle to grasp the younger man's arm. "Damn lad, I can't believe you managed to do it, but you did!" Ranma grinned back at him then nodded greetings at the Riverlands lords and the two younger men who were probably their heirs, standing with Smalljon and Ser Barristan.

However his eyes were all for Daenerys, who was already hugging Myrcella, the two of them standing in front of a small tent. Daenerys turned to him, her violet eyes clinging to his face for a moment before she shook herself then deliberately stepped back into the tent. Merry, not noticing Daenerys look at Ranma followed her, still talking, one of her hands making a slashing motion as if describing something.

Ranma was almost in a daze as he followed her, waving his hand occasionally to acknowledge other greetings or cheers. These quickly turned into wolf whistles as the rest of the army noticed how out of it he was and where he was walking.

He entered the tent and found Daenerys and her two little ones there. Both of the dragons raised their heads, staring at him for a moment then lowering their heads once more. Neither of them had warmed to Ranma as they had to Fenris, to Sunfyre and Rhaegon Ranma was simply their mistress's mate, not their friend in his own right or anything of that nature.

But that lukewarm welcome was more than made up for when Daenerys practically leaped into his arms, her arms going around his neck and pulling his mouth down to hers. After that Ranma rather lost track of time, only coming back into himself when they pulled back from one another their foreheads resting lightly against one another. "Hello, my lady." Ranma said, his voice coming out deep and throaty, his blue eyes shining with love and other, baser emotions.

"Hello my husband." Daenerys said, a tremble in her own voice as she nuzzled into his neck, her lips slightly bruised from the force of their kiss. "I realize I should be asking you what you've been up to and where the wolfsworn are or how well you think this campaign is going, but for some reason…" she laughed, "I am really having trouble caring about all that right now."

Those words brought Ranma back to himself for a moment, though his arms for some reason were refusing all his brain's commands to let Daenerys go. "We should get out there, make some show at least of still being in charge of ourselves rather than our hormones."

At that point Myrcella spoke up from one side, her face flushed from the passion she had just witnessed, as well as her own desires which had nailed her feet to the floor despite her best efforts to turn and leave the two alone. "I doubt that the army will care if you two spend some time together in here, so long as you can, um…" she blushed even deeper. "K-keep the noise down?"

"That isn't going to happen." Daenerys said shaking her head moving away unwillingly from Ranma, shivering slightly as Ranma's hand's traced her sides for a moment before reluctantly flailing away. "It would set a bad example for the troops."

"Besides," Ranma put in, one hand tracing Daenerys's back for a moment before he too grudgingly moved away. "Daenerys tends to be loud in any case."

Daenerys mock-glared at him for a moment while Myrcella laughed, and Daenerys turned to her, glaring slightly. "As if Myrcella isn't already well aware of that, or is there some other reason why you always get a room next to ours?"

Merry flushed further, stuttering for a moment, while Daenerys laughed and Ranma merely looked bewildered. Daenerys reached out, pulling Merry into another hug then turned to Ranma, her arms still around the younger girl, who's company she had missed dearly. Turning to Ranma however, her voice and face became serious again. "How long do you think it will take the Lannisters to attack us?"

"Two or three days, maybe as many as four." Ranma said, shrugging his shoulders. "We'll have that time to rest the men who were with me, believe me they need it, and not just their bodies, their minds and gear have suffered as well. All of them performed above and beyond, and we'll need to make certain they know that. Even three days is going to be pushing it. It's not only my force that's been run ragged after all."

OOOOOOO

Tywin was indeed gathering his forces together again, and had assembled his lords once more to give them their marching orders. "While I am displeased that our scouts have seen so many new banners, the army out for there simply does not have the size necessary to fight us on an even footing. At best they can only have 13,000 excluding the Riverlands forces who will no doubt surrender or turn their coats if we can smash the northerners and their true allies decisively."

For the northern host augmented by the forces of House Mallister that was actually a very accurate estimation. Given the various forces Ranma had split off since reaching Fairmarket and the losses his men had sustained, Ranma's army was a little over thirteen thousand. But as Tywin had said, the men Ranma had been leading personally up to this point had been run ragged, and would add little to his total strength.

"Moreover, the northern force we've been chasing are exhausted, they won't be ready for a pitched battle in three days or even a week. They will add nothing to the force already gathered. While we can field a force of 20,000 since we've continually made good our losses on this side of the Red Fork by pulling men up from our reserves down at the Kneeling Man's Ford." That had left the force at the Ford with a bare three thousand after the men at Stone Hedge had been moved there, but that would be more than enough to hold the ford given the defenses they had built there.

"That's true uncle." Daven said cautiously when no one else spoke up. "But they can still hurt us. Ranma has proven himself to be a wily tactician, and I'm leery of assuming that he is desperate at this point. This meeting between their two forces seems far too… lucky to be true chance. Also look at the place they've chosen to meet us, we can't flank them, which means we will have trouble bringing our numbers advantage to bear."

That was true. The area where the northerners had decided to fight was a small strip of land where the Red Fork and Blue Fork were only about half a mile apart before once more turning away from one another until they met at the Trident. Worse both rivers were deep here, so there was no chance of truly flanking the northerners. "Moreover, even in victory if Ranma hurts us too badly, we will become dangerously understrength to take on either of the Baratheon brothers."

"Not so much." Tywin disagreed though he nodded at it the younger man, respecting him slightly more for having spoken up. "Remember we still have all of the smaller guard forces in, Harroway, Harrenhal, Darry and the other castles near the Kingsroad, as well as the majority of our Riverlands allies besieging Raventree Hall. His lips twitched slightly at the younger man scowl as if he wasn't wishful to rely on such, though he understood the point. "With them we can make up any losses we might take among our army later on."

The other matter Tywin went on his voice and manner becoming much more serious is time. "This campaign is taking too long. If we give Ranma time enough to recuperate from the past few weeks, he may well cross back over the Ruby Ford and start another war of maneuver, constantly moving here there and everywhere trying to force us to break our army up again in an effort to pin him down. With the Baratheon brothers both moving on King's Landing we cannot afford to wait. We need to crush this Army quickly, and then begin our march southwards."

"While the northern army has had it almost all its own way, the portion we've been chasing have paid for it, and from what our scouts reported the other half is comprised mostly of levies that haven't thought any true pitched battle yet. They are well armored true, and their weapons seem more uniform than I expect, but such men will break at the first sign of true blood."

Beside Tywin, Stafford spoke up as well. "Also consider that the eastern Riverlands houses made that initial deal with us because they didn't have the stomach for war. If they start to take losses, they may well retreat entirely. One sharp battle here, and the Northern/Riverlands alliance could crumble."

Tywin didn't like the man but he had a point. "Indeed, so that is what we will do. The second and third echelons are only a day and a half's distance if they force march to join us. I've already sent runners to them, we will gather our forces through the rest of the day and the night, then attack at dawn."

Tywin didn't know it, but even his thoughts had been influenced by the long, somewhat fruitless campaign so far, which his men had taken to call hunting the wolf. The northerners had never allowed the Westerlanders to pin them in place, and had won all of the small skirmishes, though they had obviously taken losses, particularly from Lord Plumm's night attack.

But the fruitless chase had ground on Tywin's nerves, particularly when he knew that Renly had reached King's Landing weeks back. His daughter and son were trapped in this hellhole, and here Tywin was, chasing after an enemy that would rather dance around and avoid battle than fight! No, Tywin felt it best to end this now, show the young Stark that there was a difference between small scale battles and real ones then move south as quickly as possible.

Actually, Tywin had underestimated the amount of time it would be necessary to allow for his army to come together completely. The two other echelons were still trickling in well into the evening of the next day, so he was forced to put off a battle for four days, giving the portion of the northern army precious time to recuperate from the past three weeks..

That wasn't good, but,Tywin reflected that the numbers and moreover the composition of the two forces were heavily in his favor. His scouts reported that the Eastern Riverlands houses only had added about three thousand to Ranma's army, the majority of which were infantry and archers, and only House Blanetree's troops, of which there were a scant hundred, were veterans. Whereas Tywin's army was mostly comprised of veterans, and had a massive force of heavy cavalry with which to shatter the Northern line. Once that was done, his numbers would tell, and the Young Wolf would finally be brought to heel.

OOOOOOO

Four days after the northern army reformed the sound of drums in the distance signaled that the Lannisters were preparing themselves for battle, and were quickly answered by the horns of the northern and Riverlands army. Ranma sat on Fenris' back on a small rise in the army camp, staring out through his spyglass at the Lannister forces that were preparing their lines.

He smiled grimly. You seem to think bigger is better Lord Tywin, something I'd thought seeing your past campaigns, but I'm about to prove to you once and for all that quality beats out quantity every time.

Without looking away from the view, he began to give out his orders for the coming battle. "I want the archers on either flank with the Riverlands forces to protect them. Smalljon, you and I will command the irregular infantry. We'll go forward to meet their initial charge, but I want every sergeant to know the signal for retreat, and when we do I want that retreat to be an organized one, not a rout."

Now he turned fixing, Smalljon with a glare. "Make certain they understand that. That will be the most dangerous part of this battle when we have to retreat through the pike."

Smalljon nodded grimly and Ranma turned to his friend's father. "Greatjon, you and lord Rickard are to take command of the heavy. Split them into two formations and station them behind the archers on either flank. Keep them back, I don't want them called in until after the Lannisters have been broken."

"You're making the assumption that they will break." said Ser Blanetree dubiously. "I have to tell you that whatever you think you've seen, the Westerlanders do not lack for courage."

Ranma shook his head. "You haven't seen what a pike regiment on the attack can do, no one has really. Trust me, the Lannisters will break, or die. Patrek, I'd like you to be my signalman for this battle."

The heir to house Mallister paused, cocking an eyebrow as he seemed to read more into that question than the actual words. He was right: Ranma had been impressed by Patrek, who had stood by his side in several of the battle they had fought already in this campaign. While his skills were nowhere close to a wolfsworn, he was decent enough, and better young enough to keep learning.

Eventually Patrek nodded and Ranma turned to Lord Mallister. "Jason, you'll be in charge of the reserves, they'll be your man and those of mine that have already been in battle these past few weeks. I don't want them committed too soon to the battle, so keep them back at all if at all possible. Whatever you do, keep your force between the front and Merry's hospital center."

Jason nodded, not showing any of his own worry. He hadn't seen the pike regiment in action yet either, in fact even Ranma hadn't, but he knew they would work. You created a weapon for me Jon, he thought to himself. Now it's time to show Westeros what the word 'soldier' really means.

"When do you want the crossbowmen committed?" Daenerys asked, once again wearing a concealing hood as she stood behind Ser Barristan.

"Push them forward with the hikes," Ranma said after a moment's thought. "They know what they're supposed to do?"

She nodded. "Lord Mallister, Ser Barristanand I have had been training them with the crossbows ever since the weapons arrived." Those men had been chosen from among the best of the archers from the Riverlands, and while they hadn't exactly taken to their new weapons the striking power of the crossbow had seduced them.

Ranma nodded grimly. He did not give any commands to any of the Riverlands lords that his wife had brought to their banner. He'd gotten to know them over the past few days, and agreed with Daenerys on her impression of all of them. Ranma liked Ser Blanetree, a thorough going professional warrior, but he had the sort of anger in him that would make controlling him tough.

He also liked Vincent and Tristan. The first, he had potential the kind of potential that Ranma was eager to put to work on various projects. Tristan wasn't a deep thinker, but he was loyal, and more importantly loyal to the Tullys, specifically Edmure, which was enough for Ranma. Their father though, Ranma didn't like him very much, far too self-serving and a bit of an ass-kisser, much like Roote only somewhat better at hiding it. Old Wayn, well he was old and tired, Ranma couldn't hate him, but couldn't like him either.

Ranma looked off into the distance as he heard the bugles of the Lannisters bellowing once more. "Let's get to it gentlemen, ladies."

With that they all raced off to their positions, though Lord Roote and Lord Ryger took a moment to pull Silas to one side. "Why is the youngster so confident? Do you know? I've seen his Pike regiment's doing their pretty marching, but surely he doesn't think that's going to translate into a battle."

Silas Shawney however laughed at his concerns. "There is one thing I've learned from watching Ranma over the past few weeks, it's never to gamble against him. Trust me, he'll win this."

OOOOOOO

About an hour later the battle began. Archers on both sides began to pepper one another and the front of the infantry lines, while the Lannisters began to advance. Despite their advantage in numbers the Westerlands archers had the worst of it from the get-go, not just because they were advancing with their army into their opponent's fire, but because their bows were of such poor size and power in comparison to the northern ones. While the Westerlands bows were actually better for skirmishes, because the size of the northern bows made using them in dense forests a little more difficult, the northern bows simply had far more power and range.

Against the light armor of the infantry and the archers this was proving deadly. At long range of course even northern bows couldn't penetrate plate, but only one in ten infantrymen had plate armor among the Westerlands forces. More than one archer among them noticed that the armor of the Northerners seems to be of much higher quality than was normal for any infantry force, though many had already reported this.

The Westerlands forces advanced, those who had them holding up shields to block the arrows coming at them marching on waiting until they were in charging distance to pick up the pace. Halfway towards the northern army, the northern army responded, the irregular infantry moving out forming its own line of battle.

Behind the irregular infantry the pike regiments began to form from the clumps and clusters that they had been kept in before this in order to not get even a hint of what they really were to the Lannisters. Even now the pikes were held dragging along the ground so that their true size could be discerned from a distance.

It worked too. Behind his army Tywin was once more set up on a small platform and he smiled grimly. The Stark brat doesn't trust his levy forces to hold instead he's using them as his secondary line there, but he's underestimated our own numbers I think. If we can win the initial clash with the better trained armsmen of that first line coming out to meet ours, we might be able to sweep the board quickly.

Moments later the two waves of infantry met, the Westerlands forces having the numbers, but not the training or the armor of their opponents. Ranma charged at the center of their forces with Patrek beside him. Fenris for once was not with his bonded human. He had stayed to help Daenerys keep her dragons under control when the sounds of battle reached him. Ice carved a bloody ruin while he roared. "Winter is coming!"

This shout was taken up all along the line, and for a moment the light infantry held their fellows. Then more Westerlanders came up, pushing through here and there and even encircling small clumps of Riverlands in northern infantry. The northern infantry began to give way grudgingly. At the center Ranma looked to his right as a bugle from the northern flank sounded, signaling that they were being in danger of being cut off on that side. He nodded at Patrek and said "signal slow retreat, then signal the light cavalry in on the northern flank."

Patrek nodded, his bloody sword falling to his side for a moment as he grabbed up the horn that had been riding at his hip, putting it to his lips and blowing out two long blasts then five more short one in quick succession. All around them the light infantry began to slowly give ground, but seeing Ranma still there, snarling at their enemies not a one of them broke.

With Smalljon holding the south side and Ranma holding the center the northern side was really the only flank that was in danger of breaking. Unfortunately Tywin could tell that just as well as Ranma. He ordered his men in on that side, almost breaking the infantry line there before the northern light cavalry smashing into them from their own flank. That part of the battle devolved into a general melee for a few seconds, but Lord Shawney, in charge of the light cavalry, understood the plan well enough to keep his force under control and pulled them back after the infantry line stabilized. He still lost hundreds of men however.

Even in the midst of his own battle at the front of the line Ranma could feel the sense the tide of battle, the balance of it. He and Patrek held the line for a moment, while around them the shield wall of both sides clashed, both sides taking losses as Ranma let his body move by itself for a moment while he concentrated on reading the flow of battle.

After another moment Ranma held up one hand and said "by the numbers Patrek!"

Ranma stepped forward slightly to one side guarding Patrek who fell back allowing wringing out his shield arm, wincing as the pain of a broken bone hit him. Even so he was still able to lift the horn to his lips. This time he blew one long blast followed by two short ones and another long blast.

Around them the light infantry forces of the Northerners, trained constantly drilled on the march down from the north and even more so when they were in camp on the other side of the Ruby Ford, responded with alacrity. Each group leader or sergeant as Ranma called themhad been assigned a number. Now those with odd numbers fell back, much like when Daryn's force had been ambushed by the wildlings north of the Wall.

Yet at the same time the archers, who had been splitting fire along the entire front as well as against their fellows suddenly changed fire aiming only at the infantry along the front ranks. Men fell screaming as hundreds of arrows began to sluice down like rain into their ranks, the Northerners combined fire in one area of the battle proving disastrous to the Westerlanders.

Ranma grabbed Patrek shoulder and shouted in his ear in order to be heard over the continued clamor of battle and the screams of the wounded. "I think it's our turn my friend!" Patrek laughed, in the two of them fell back with the last groups.

On the other side of the battle Tywin grimaced angrily but then bellowed orders. "Their center is breaking, call up the heavy cavalry and get them in there! If we can break them, and their levy forces behind them, the Riverlanders on their flanks will break as well, and this battle will be ours!"

Orders went out to that effect, and the Westerlands infantry gratefully moved aside for their betters.

By this point Ranma and Patrek had reached the first line of pike, passing through their ranks like the rest of the light infantry. After they passed, the pikes closed ranks and Ranma stopped, handing Ice over to Patrek for a moment. "Don't lose it." He said semi-seriously.

While Patrek raced on with Ice in its sheath under one arm Ranma reached down to pick up a pike and take his position with the rest. That sight won a round of cheers from many of the pikemen around him, who had of course been nervous. This was not only going to be their first battle for many of them, but all of them knew that Ranma's entire strategy was based off how well they would perform. That was quite a load on their shoulders, all of whom were smallfolk levies or had been before Jon molded them into the soldiers they were now: men who had been trained from the start to work together, to see themselves as parts of a unit, not individual warriors.

Ranma didn't have enough time to make a speech, nor did he have the inclination. He simply raised his Pike, holding it upright on his shoulder. All around him and all throughout the regiments the pikemen changed their grips to match his own, the flashes of steel radiating outwards for a moment. Ranma looked around and simply said. "Here they come boys, who will stand with me!?"

He was answered with a roar, and a moment later he bellowed "Pikes down!" That shout was taken up by all the troop leaders and sergeants, and the pike regiments of the North lowered their blades. "Prepare to receive!"

When the pike shafts came down, the Westerlands heavy cavalry was no longer faced with what they had thought was a week line of barely trained levies armed with polearms, but a trained and prepared force who worked together and stood their ground with a level of discipline that had never truly been seen in the Westerlands or even in the eastern lands. The only comparison could be made to the Golden Company or the Unsullied, but even they didn't have the mix of weapons and armor of that the Houses Stark and Cerwyn had created.

A Pike regiment wasn't a simple line of pike, but a wall of steel made up of four rows of pikemen thrusting their pikes forward. Even if you got past the first row of Pike, you couldn't get past the second or the third or the fourth, you could get at the people wielding the Pike.

A pike had even longer range than a Lance wielded by a cavalry man, and now the Westerlands nights and mounted arms man learned this to their cost. Hundreds, possibly thousands died in that brief clash. Then it got worse.

"At the March!" Ranma bellowed, his pike out thrust, slamming into a knight with such force it penetrated his plate armor and threw him out of the saddle. His horse tried to bolt, but they were packed so tightly that the horses couldn't get away. Then all around him the pikemen began to follow Ranma's relayed orders and began to move forward, their pikes outstretched in front of them, hammering slicing and thrusting into the cavalry who were no longer trying to break their lines but were instead trying to get away.

However, the crossbow men had also gone to work at the same time. All of them had been ordered to follow the pikes as closely as possible and aim at any mounted man who was wearing better armor than most or was riding directly under a banner. Their rate of fire wasn't anywhere near what an equal number of archers could've done, but their quarrels hit with punishing force, penetrating even the best plate armor, which could've turned even the arrows of the northern longbows. The Westerlands lost over a dozen Knights, Heirs and more than a few Lords in that first few ferocious moments of combat. Heavy cavalry had always attracted such, and an in-battle assassination like this was an entirely new tactic.

Twenty minutes after they charged into the pikes the Westerlands cavalry broke. No, it didn't break, it shattered. One moment it had been charging forward certain of its power and victory, then their fortune had been completely reversed. The men were shocked, astonished at the brutal way their momentum had been halted, a fifth of the number had died in those first few moments. The horses were terrified by the smell of blood and the screams of the dying horses all around them, and dozens of their leaders were gone as well. They shattered, streaming away in ones and twos from the battle back through their own ranks of infantry

Behind them the Pike regiments marched on. Here and there the Westerlands cavalry messed up their own infantry's line, their horses out of control, or their riders so panicked they didn't realize they were now trampling over a few of their own men.

And then those lines of infantry him were also faced with two pike regiments on the march. Even against infantry, the sheer number of pikes, the density of the regiment's front worked their deadly toll. Here and there men could get under the first line or even the second, but not the third or the fourth, and even in the few places that occurred, they ran into the men of House Mallister who Jason had ordered forward to guard the Pike regiments up close. And behind them were the archers, still firing at the Westerlanders, and Ranma's heavy cavalry, only about two-thousand, five hundred men, waiting to be unleashed while cheering on their fellows.

Tywin watched all this in shocked horror, and he suddenly realized, or thought he realized, what Ranma's goal had been all along. Stark wanted me to attack him here he thought his thoughts cold yet shocked at the same time. He didn't want to face me at the fortifications we threw up at the Kneeling Man's Ford, all that dancing around even his initial split of his army possibly was to entice me to come out and attack him. After all, the Young Wolf doesn't care what happens further south, he must've known I was feeling the pinch of time and would jump at the chance to defeat his forces in smaller lots. And he wanted to use those polearms against us. By the Seven, where did he get the idea for those?

Even as he watched the sides of the Pike regiment sprouted even more Pike thrusting out on a diagonal protecting its flanks while its front crunched into his army's middle. The archers of the North had also won their dual with his own, forcing his own archers to fall back in disarray though his troops ranks with hundreds dead in comparison to only dozens on the other side. And Tywin could see panic beginning even at the outskirts of the army.

"Sound retreat." Tywin said his voice like ice.

"My Lord, we still outnumber them." Said Stafford.

Tywin turned, slapping the other man hard on the face sending him sprawling to the ground of the platform he had been using to survey the battle. "Fool! Those polearms have ripped the heart out of our army! We have nothing that can get through to the men behind them, the only way we can battle them is by exhausting them, surely those weapons are too long for them to be very quick on the march. No, we'll pull back entirely, then dare them to come at us on the other side of the Kneeling Man forward.

"That's days away from here my lord, but you're right I don't think those pike units we very good in in the chase. We'll still have to deal with the northern cavalry though." Lord Brax said, ignoring where Stafford had been sent sprawling.

"If we don't start to pull back now, we won't have an army left regardless. Do as I command." Tywin said coldly.

The Westerlands reserve force was comprised of about 3000 infantry and another two hundred heavy cavalry which Tywin had husbanded up to this point. Now they served as a rallying point for the rest of the army, falling back in good order and setting an example for their fellows, though many of the Westerlanders weren't in a position to respond. Even so, breaking off the battle was tough, made even harder when the heavy and light cavalry of the Northern army was loosed to do it's deadly work.

Beyond the general flow of the battle Ranma couldn't tell that much detail from where he was in the front line so he had switched out with Smalljon only a few moments into the pike regiments' advance. His going hadn't caused any sort of consternation, his joking shout of "you boys have got this, but I need to kick the rest of the army in the ass!" had actually won him a few laughs from the embattled men around him.

Now he stood on his own raised platform, frowning angrily. "Send a runner to Greatjon and my uncle. I want the cavalry to go around the edges of the pike regiments but I want them to be controlled. Tywin is keeping too much control over there, we won't finish that army off today."

Daenerys stood at the back of the platform, looking over it with her own spyglass hitting even now. Below her hands were Sunfyre and Rhaegon, pressed down lightly with both of her hands while Fenris lay in front of them growling slightly aiding her in controlling them. The sound of battle in the blood smell had reached even back here was getting to both dragons, and their instincts were urging them into the air but their time had not yet come. "We've broken them though, that army knows it's been beaten, and beaten badly. Should we use my dragons now, do you think?"

Ranma shook his head. "No, I don't want your dragons to be used in the field, not against a foe that's already beaten. Remember that our own men might come to fear them if we seem too eager to use them. We'll keep with the original plan for their debut."

Daenerys nodded grimly, remembering that part and inwardly happy for another few weeks to keep training her little ones on dodging. After all, they were so young their scales didn't offer much protection, and their wings would be extremely vulnerable to enemy archers. Plus, they would have to come much closer to target men who could no doubt see them coming and dodge. Besides, Ranma's right, just think of how Lord Mallister would react.

For his part Ranma was wondering how the rest of his strategy was going. "Now it all depends on what Jon and Arya have been able to do, and what Tywin's reaction will be. If Tywin retreat from that position on the other side of the Kneeling Man's Ford, we can harry him out of the Riverlands. If he doesn't," he looked down at Daenerys grimly, "Your little ones will be used against him there."

It would have surprised anyone else, but Daenerys understood why that thought horrified Ranma. Ranma didn't want to slaughter his enemies, well not their men anyway, he would have no problem gutting Joffrey like a fish, or ripping Stannis' head off and tossing it into the ocean. But he saw no reason to extend that hatred toward the armsmen who were simply following their vows, or to the levy forces who'd had no choice but joining up. He wanted to break Tywin, he didn't want to slaughter his army to a man.

On a more pragmatic level there were two considerations. First, if Ranma could force that army to surrender, or even portions of it, he would immediately have a ready force of workmen for any projects he needed work on. In the back of Ranma's mind there was always the fact that he knew winter was coming, when food and transportation of said would be of paramount importance. He needed at least the two canal projects they were already working on to be finished before winter came, and he needed enough people to move out into the fields after this war and start farming again. This was especially true since autumn had been declared while he was baiting the lion.

Second, Ranma had learned back in Fairmarket that the Westerlanders had both suborned and reinforced several of the castles on the other side of the Red Fork and Trident. He did not want to get bogged down in the same kind of battles he'd been facing these past few weeksand he hoped that by letting Tywin go for now he would be forced to call in those small holding forces. Whether or not he would then seek battle again, or would still remain on the defense and force Ranma to use the dragons against him, or if the rest of Ranma's strategy took, Ranma didn't know yet.

Daenerys nodded grimly, and two of them went back to watching the rout continue.

OOOOOOO

There was a dead body in a small alleyway in Fleabottom. This wasn't abnormal in the best of times in Fleabottom, and now was not the best of times. But what was abnormal, had anyone noticed it, was that this body didn't seem to have a mark on it, save for some blood around the mouth. It lay there in its own sick, and rats began to eat at it, unremarked by any. But soon, soon it would be important for thousands.

End chapter

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I have some five thousand words of the next chapter done, but I feel that I wasn't doing the next few battles/events justice in my head. The strategy and flow of this chapter were very hard to work out, but I think I did it justice. Arya started to shine here, and she will do so even more in the next chapter.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please leave a review, the soup and salad of the writer.