Shield sat beside him like an obedient hound, looking down alongside him at the village in the valley below. More specifically, looking at the line of villagers moving away under escort to the north.

"Are you sure this is wise?" Domeric asked from his other side. Of all of them Domeric had been the one who had objected most to this final ploy to track down the Brotherhood. But Daryn and Cley had accepted it as necessary.

After Redhill and the following chase and battle, Tristan had taken the offensive. Supported by fresh soldiers from across the Riverlands, wandering hedge knights and free riders, as well as support from the various houses who had men to spare. Lady Blackwood could spare none of her own guards but she did send him half the men he had left to reinforce her garrison. Lady Bracken had supplied a hundred men at arms and ten lancers. Riverrun's garrison had detached a further fifty to support him, and the force at Harrenhal had sent him a full half of it's detachment. Overall he raised another four thousand men to join his force, but in doing so had stripped many castles down to the bare minimum number of defenders. He'd been surprised that some, like House Bracken, had supplied so many. Several of these castles he had visited and he didn't think they had the men to spare.

But it would be worth it. The new soldiers had brought him news as well as arms. Brotherhood attacks were diminishing across the Riverlands, and it would seem that he now had them pinned in this area to the south. Still a large area, but no longer the country wide scourge he had been dealing with before. And his previous victory had emboldened the men to strike harder. Bands of brotherhood soldiers had been killed at Waterford, Little River and Sevenmills, and with every defeat came fewer attacks. But it hadn't all gone their way. A hundred men had been lost attacking a brotherhood position at Towerhill, and when Tristan had arrived to avenge them, the enemy had long departed in their wagons.

Even with such defeats, the net was tightening around the Brotherhood. Now, when Dom, Daryn and Cley entered a village and demanded information about the brotherhood it was given, informants rooted out and collaborators hanged. Now he was evacuating the loyal peasants. It was hard, but necessary. He needed to clear trapped area of peasant populations that the brotherhood could fade into. He had taken note of everyone's names and houses, the information recorded, so that once the brotherhood, and their Handless, had been hunted down and defeated, everyone could return to their homes safely.

He was broken from his vigil by the horsehoof beats of an approaching rider. "My Prince," the freerider said, bowing in the saddle. "We've taken another band of the brotherhood, just to the west."

"Is it close?"

"A few hours ride, my Prince."

Tristan nodded. "Very good, pass my congratulations on to the men."

"Actually, my prince, there is something my captain wanted to show you." Tristan raised an eyebrow. "He says it's important."

Tristan nodded and Shield rose to his feet. "Show me," he commanded.

The soldiers of the north, a mixed band of Hornwood, Bolton and Bracken men, waiting at a fork in a dirt road, in the shadow of a huge, leafless elm. Already some bodies were hanging from the tree, the rest of the Brotherhood were strewn across the path and the grass to either side. Apart from one free rider nursing a wound to his shin, it looked like his people were all unhurt.

"Another victory," Tristan smiled, swinging down from his horse.

"You expected any different from my men?" Daryn asked, dismounting beside him and shouldering his axe. Daryn gestured to the men in the tree. "Getting started already."

Tristan had thought the same as they approached, but now he wasn't so sure. Shield's heckles were raised as he approached the tree, and through his bond to the wolf, Tristan could feel the decay. They weren't fresh kills.

"Not yet my lord," the Hornwood commander replied. "These ones," he gestured up to the hanging bodies, "we hanged two days ago."

Tristan frowned. "They must be desperate to escape us if they're using the same path that we've publically marked as unsafe."

The Hornwood commander shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. "They weren't fleeing, my prince. This lot," he gestured to the bodies, men and women, littering the floor, "came down that road," he pointed to the northward turning fork. "That lot," he gestured to the bodies in the trees, already starting to rot and attract carrion, "came from that road," he pointed to the southward fork. "They weren't fleeing our picket, my prince, they were heading into it."

"Into it?" He had anticipated that members of the brotherhood might try to flee and abandon the cause, to slip out with the peasant evacuation. In truth, if the fight had been beaten out of them and they were happy to slip away, then he was happy to let them. The Brotherhood was only one of the problems plaguing the Riverlands, and he had to tend to them all while the truce held. But even after the defeats, the hangings, the trials there were those still looking to join the Handless and his cause.

This was a worrying development. Tristan had called up extra men to enforce this picket line because he thought they were nearing the end of Brotherhood resistance. But if what was happening here was repeated across the picket, then clearly it was not working.

"Keep watch here commander," he ordered. "I want to know if more people try to enter the area to join the brotherhood."

"Of course, my prince."

The mood around the campfire that night was dark. Tristan stared out into the dark, wondering how many campfires were lit across the south, how many clutches of Brotherhood fighters waiting out the cold to continue the fight tomorrow.

"Tristan," Daryn's voice broke him from his idle thoughts. "Come on, we need your input."

"Sorry," Tristan replied, sitting up straight. Shield circled the fire, just out of reach of the light, Dom, Daryn and Cley were sat around it with him. "The Brotherhood."

"Yes," Dom said in his usual soft voice. "The picket was a fine idea, but clearly it hasn't worked."

"It didn't work along this one stretch of road," Daryn replied. "That doesn't mean it failed."

"Sieges have failed if reinforcement can reach the garrison."

"But reinforcements didn't reach the Brotherhood, they were caught and killed" Daryn insisted.

"They were caught and killed here, and only because they used the roads," Dom replied. "How many have moved across country, or on roads that were less well watched?"

"We can't know that Dom," Cley pointed out.

"But we can't know that no one has either, and I always prefer to plan for the worst."

"Of course you do," Daryn shook his head.

Tristan said "in this instance, I would side with Dom. This picket was supposed to keep what remained of the brotherhood in place so we could hunt them down, not announce to the world where they were so that others could come and join them."

"So what are we going to do?" Cley asked.

Shield finished his circuit, padded over and lay down, resting his head between his forepaws. Tristan absently reached out to stroke his ear. Shield needed to rest before he headed out into the dark again. He didn't like it, and slept far worse when the wolf was gone, but it was necessary. "That's what I'm asking you. You've all always had good advice before. What should I do?"

Dayn spoke first. "Just because the picket isn't going exactly as we planned, doesn't mean it isn't working. We know the Handless is still here, and so is most of the Brotherhood. Let's just close the net. It might be slow, but it will be thorough. Draw everyone in from all directions, search every wood and village and valley until we've found what's left of the Brotherhood and wiped it out."

"We'd need another ten thousand men to try that," Domeric said.

"If we were against hardened soldiers, but the Brotherhood are a peasant mob, we can outmatch them even outnumbered," Daryn countered.

"But you would still endanger our men. Peasants can overcome knights if the terrain and surprise is in their favour. This doesn't need to put anyone else in harms way."

"What do you mean?" Tristan asked.

Dom turned to face him. "Let the Brotherhood eat their own. Offer full mercy and a bounty to all the Brotherhood if they turn over the Handless to us. Then no mercy until they do."

"You'd let a thousand go to get one of them?"

He nodded. "Yes, he's their leader, their inspiration and the name on their lips. Their confidence in him must be knocked after their recent defeats, so we give them this path, once the Handless is dead, the rest will fall back to their old lives."

Cley spoke then. "Like you said Dom, he's their leader and their inspiration, you think they'll turn him over for gold and peace?"

"Most won't, but we only need one of them to do it. And if they try to stage a rescue before the execution, then all the better, we'll draw them into a single battle and shatter them."

"I agree with that last bit," Cley said. "But we don't need to chance that one of the Brotherhood will try and succeed to do it. Or risk stiring up more anger with repression until that happens. We can lure them in another way."

Tristan raised an eyebrow. Cley always had good advice, but rarely a strategy of his own. "What do you suggest Cley?"

"It's simple as I see it. We call this a picket but it's really a siege. We've driven off the peasants, now we just secure the food sources. Let them come and try to take the food from us if they want it, the longer they wait the more desperate they'll be, and the weaker when they finally do attack us."

"Not a plan without merit," Domeric replied grudgingly.

"But still leaving too much to chance." Daryn said. "They'll still be able to hunt, and locking away food is hardly going to endear us to the people more than Domeric showing Bolton mercy."

Dom shot a glare at Daryn, but said nothing.

"What do you think, Tris?" Cley asked.

Tristan sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. "I think you all raise good points. But the Brotherhood is only one of the challenges we face, and time is not on our side. We need to defeat the Botherhood quickly, before they inspire more rebels, or one of the other troubles facing the Riverlands boils over." There were already other concerns that required his attention. Lost mercenaries from the Mountain's band threatening Maidenpool again. House Mallister struggling against ironmen raids on the coast. Some of House Piper's men had taken hold of some of the fortifications around Ploughman's Keep, the hold of the now extinct House Darry, while knights of House Frey had moved to expel them. Both houses had blood claims by marriage on the lands, and the Castellan of Harrenhold had been able to do little to stem the violance with his depleted garrison. Indeed it had been the soldiers he had requested from that garrison to combat the Brotherhood that had brought him the news. Every soldier he had taken to crush the Brotherhood had drawn away from those other concerns.

"Speed is not easy on this hunt," Daryn said. "We've picketted this area that takes days to cross. Any search of an area that large will take time."

"And we can't force them to come out. Even with the bounties or food plans, the Brotherhood won't move immediately," Dom added.

Tristan shook his head. "No, the Brotherhood will move, it's how they've kept one step ahead of us, taking castles and towns while remaining forever out of reach. The Handless always acts. He exploits openings. The castles he attacked were poorly held if they were held at all. He attacked out forces where they were scattered. All of your plans were good, but they focussed on closing down paths. I think we should be trying to open them."

"And how do we do that?" Cley asked. "Without giving him an opening to slip away."

"I have one idea," Tristan replied.

It took three days for his orders to filter out and to for a reply to come back to him. But when the news came, Tristan hurried to take advantage of it. A band of Brotherhood warriors had been caught by his riders trying to cross fallow farm fields. Most had been killed, but five had been caught, just as he had ordered, and were now being held under tight guard.

"We have them for you my Prince," the Stark commander told him, guiding him to the prisoners, kneeling in the mud ringed with spearmen who all looked ready to take their heads at a moment's notice. "But I was surprised to receive your order that they be taken alive. Another few hours and it would have arrived too late I fear."

"Then the gods are on our side." Tristan replied.

One of the prisoner's spat.

"I'll take it from here," Tristan squatted down before the five. "Where is the Handless?" He demanded.

"We are the Handless," they replied. It was a clumsy mess of words, not spoken in unison or in pitch, but the belief was still there. He waved it away. "I'm not interested in your spectacle. Tell me where he is."

"He is wherever you aren't," one of the women said.

"He is wherever we need him," said another.

"And yet you are here in chains, and he has not come for you."

One of the other women snorted. "We know what you will do to us. Set us to swing, rape us women, slaughter them men, and you will find a hundred more enemies coming for you in the dark."

"And you think the Handless can stop us?" Tristan asked, curious. "When he isn't even here?"

"I know he's fighting for us. That's enonugh for me."

Tristan nodded. They would do. "Cut them loose," Tristan ordered, getting to his feet.

Prisoners and soldiers were united in surprise. "My Prince," the commander began.

"What did he say?" One of the prisoners said at the same time.

"I said I'm cutting you loose." Tristan replied. "You will continue on your way. And you will deliver a message to the Handless for me."

"A… message?" The second woman asked, confused, the fire of her previous outburst faltering.

"Yes. A message. You will tell the Handless that I want to meet with him."