"Shall we send the demands?" Ser Addam asked him.
"No," Loren insisted. "He will come."
"My lord," Lord Florent said from his other side. "Our scouts have ranged out a day in all directions, there is no sign of him, and he had to be here by dusk tonight or Cider Hall would submit"
"It's not dusk yet," just nearly, but nearly was enough time for a battle to spin on it's head, for a hero to die. There was no reply, perhaps because they accepted his point, perhaps because they saw there was no point arguing with him. "Order the outriders to remap the terrain in all directions. Keep the net tight, I don't want so much as a single knight slipping through our lines."
Ser Addam, who had taken command of the outriders, bowed and left to give the order. "Lord Florent, keep the siege lines tight, walk them again before sunset."
"At once, Lord Marshall."
Loren heard him leave. He didn't look back at Cider Hall. Most days he barely cast it a single glance. It wasn't important, as long as the siege lines held, which he could trust to Lord Florent, the small garrison wouldn't post a threat to his army. No, he kept his eyes out on the fields and hills beyond. For Stannis' army was the threat, and it was out there, somewhere.
"My Lord," Tyland said quietly. "I don't think he's coming."
"I can't believe he won't," Loren replied. He couldn't let himself believe it. Not yet.
"Lord Stannis is many things, but no one could slip an entire army past scouts you trained, my lord," Tyland said.
"I would hope not. But I will not sleep lightly on that hope." So he would keep the watch as sharp as a sword edge until he knew for certain.
He returned his focus to the fields and hills. Even in a scene as peaceful and serene as the Reach could ever, there were clear signs that all was not right in the world. Villages were empty, not a flicker of light shone from them. The roads were empty, apart from his own scouts and pickets riding them. More fields were fallow than should have been. Every now and then, the telltale signs of a body hanging from a tree.
And once again, the thought slipped into his mind, one he had been trying to keep at bay since before Marrenmarsh. When would this end? He tried not to think about this, because if he did, he had to think of what had led him to besiege this castle. That led to hope and hope he couldn't bare hoping for.
It had been several days after the truce at Marrenmarsh ended that Loren had received the news. In that time he had marched south to secure the Roseroad. From there he had received supplies and some reinforcements from Highgarden, though not nearly enough to replace his losses, and transporting his wounded to friendly castles for treatment. Then he began his pursuit, knowing that he would have to bring Stannis Baratheon to battle again.
Stannis' army did not turn to face him, despite coming across several locations where he would have had favourable terrain if he had done so. Had Stannis suffered too many losses to risk another battle? How far back was he planning to withdraw? He was certainly moving fast. Loren's scouts were struggling to keep up with his rearguard.
Loren's hackles were raised higher when they came across Lylefort, a castle formerly held by Stannis' forces, now completely vacated, stores emptied and home only to squatters. Loren put a garrison of fity men in it and moved on. Abandoning castles without a fight? Did Stannis truly need soldiers that badly. Perhaps things had gone better for Loren than he had thought at Marrenmarsh. Or perhaps it was a trap.
The night the news first came, he was dining alone, as he had done since Marrenmarsh.
"The Lord Marshall is eating," he heard Tyland say from outside his tent. He looked at his bowl through his fingers, the spoon resting in the stew that was steadily getting colder the longer he left it untouched. Why did it have to be stew? The last night before his army had entered the Marrenmarsh they had eaten stew, he and Gerold had…
"He needs to see this," he heard Ser Addam say.
"Come back after he has eaten then."
Loren pushed himself to his feet and trudged over to the entrance to the tent.
"Listen Tyland, this can't wait."
"The alarm bells aren't ringing, it can wait."
"It's alright Tyland," Loren said, sticking his head outside the tent flap. "What is it?"
"We've captured one of Stannis' riders my lord."
"And?"
Addam gestured for Loren to follow him. "Please my lord, you need to hear this."
Loren nodded. "Tyland, watch the tent, help yourself to what's left of my dinner if you're hungry." Addam wouldn't have come to interrupt him unless it was truly something that Loren needed to see.
The scout was being held just beyond the edge of the camp. He was tied to a tree. His face was bruised several of his fingers were stumps, the digits lying in the grass at his feet. Several knights stood around him, one of them, a Tarly by his surcoat, held a bloody knife in his hand. "What has he told you?" Loren asked.
Addam raised the scout's face with one hand. "Tell him what you told me."
"King Stannis," the scout said with a thick tongue. "He's dead."
There was a long silence, broken only by the laboured breathing of the captive. "Say that again," Loren said quietly.
"King Stannis was killed," the scout said.
"How?" Loren demanded.
"Wounded… in the battle… died on the march… please."
"He's lying," Loren said stepping backwards. "If Stannis thinks I'll fall for this ploy, then he underestimates me."
"My lord?" Addam asked.
"Put that man out of his pain, we continue the march tomorrow."
"My lord!" Addam followed him and caught him between the prisoner. "My lord, wait."
"What?"
Addam gestured back towards the tree. "You think he's lying?"
"You think he wasn't? We haven't heard anything to hint that Stannis was wounded in the battle."
"This was the first prisoner we've taken, my lord. You yourself told us that Stannis did not come to the parley."
"Stannis has plenty of reasons to avoid a parley." Loren had given them to him, after all.
"So we won't do anything with this?"
Loren seized Addam's cloak and turned him to look over their camp. "Look at them, Addam. This army has one more battle in it. One! I will not give it to Stannis at a time of his choosing." He released Addam and took a few steps back. "Tomorrow we march as planned. No more than that."
The next evening, Loren was partway through his soup, different enough to stew for him to be able to eat it, when once again, Addam came to his tent.
"I hope you're not bothering me with more lies from Stannis' planted scouts," Loren said as he emerged from the tent.
"They haven't said anything yet, one could say they aren't even captured yet," Addam replied.
"What do you mean?" Loren asked.
"We have four enemies surrounded in an old logging cabin," Addam explained as they headed for the horses. "They have haven't surrendered yet, but they say they have news to share in exchange for their lives."
"And this news is?"
"They say they'll only share it with you."
"Why haven't you dragged them out yet."
"They swore to fight if we attacked, if they die, they can't tell us anything, and who knows how many of ours they would kill in turn."
Loren stopped in his tracks. "You want them to confirm what the scout told you yesterday, don't you."
"Confirm or deny, either way we'll know."
"Fine, let's go."
The logging cabin was surrounded by nearly fifty soldiers when Loren and Addam approached, clutching spears and shields tight. Lights flickered from the cabin windows.
"Alright, I'm here, let's get this over with." Loren said.
Addam nodded at one of the soldiers, who approached the cabin, hidden behind a tower shield. He got to a window and stopped. He seemed to be speaking, but Loren could hear nothing at this distance. Not long after, the soldier returned, walking backwards, his shield held towards the cabin still. When safely far enough away, he set the shield down and came over to him. "My lord, they will speak with you," he said with a bow.
"WIll they come to me?"
"No, they want you to come to them."
Loren sighed, but he had come this far. "Two soldier ahead of me with their shields." He commanded.
He crouched behind the soldiers, making sure his body was hidden behind the heavy linden boards as they approached the cabin. When they got to one of the windows, Loren called out. "My name is Loren Lannister, King's Marshall to King Joffrey Baratheon. You wanted to speak with me. Here I am."
"You are?" A gruff voice asked.
"I am."
"You give your word?"
"On my wife's life."
A pause. "Alright, we'll speak to you."
"What did you want to say?"
"We want out," the voice said. "We're done with this war. We just want to go home."
"You asked me, the commander of an army, to come here just to tell me you don't want to fight anymore?"
"We need you to tell them to let us go," the voice pointed out.
"And why should I do that, how do I know you won't just go running back to Stannis?"
"No one can run back to King Stannis anymore. He's dead."
Loren's breath caught. "Is that why you won't fight anymore?"
No reply, but he knew it was. "You aren't the first to tell me Stannis is dead. I didn't believe them, why should I believe you?"
"We aren't lying! If King Stannis was still alive, we'd be with him now."
"If you're so certain, then you can tell me how he died."
Another pause. "We don't know. I heard he was hit by an arrow, but Tomar here heard it was a lance. They didn't tell us he was dead, we just learned."
"If they didn't tell you, then how do you know?" Loren asked.
"We never saw him after the battle. But people started talking, muttering from the lords, the smell from his tent and the wagon he was suddenly riding in."
"So you don't know he is dead. You want me to spare your lives on a maybe?"
"He's dead," came another voice. "Lord Fossoway demanded three meetings with him, but Lord Caron refused to allow him access."
"You have no proof," Loren said again.
"He's-"
"Tell me again that he is dead without proof and I will have this cabin burned down with you inside." Silence. "As I thought. I'm going to think on your words, wait right there and try nothing. If you do, you die."
Loren and the shieldmen headed back to safety.
Addam looked at him inquisitively. "I don't know," Loren replied. "They also claim Stannis is dead, though none of them claimed they saw the body. They have no proof."
"Is the lack of proof not proof in and of itself. If they were selling a lie, would they not come with at least a claim that they had seen Stannis' body."
"Not if Stannis thought I wouldn't believe it if they claimed to see his body." How would he have reacted then? Would it have been credible, or would he have looked for and found inconsistencies. That had been at least one consistency so far, no one claimed to have seen his corpse.
"So what do we do?" Addam asked, sounding dejected. "March as before."
Loren shook his head. "Now I need to verify this, which means we must force the issue."
"How?"
"Find me the nearest castle sworn to Stannis' cause that is too big for him to ignore. We're going to lay siege to it. A king would have to defend them."
And when Stannis came, he would at least have time to prepare the ground for his own battle.
"My lord, it's dawn now, he isn't coming." Addam said. "If we don't go to the castellan now, he may not believe us.
And so Loren had come to Cider Hall and dug his siege lines. He made an agreement with the Castellan. The siege would be maintained for two weeks. If King Stannis came in person to relieve the castle, Loren would break off the siege. If he did not, the Castellan would surrender, or Loren would tear the castle down to the foundations.
Fourteen days had passed. Stannis had not come. Surely he would not have allowed the castle of House Fossoway to fall without challenge? Cider Hall sat close enough to the Roseroad to disrupt travel along it. Also, they were one of the most prominent Reacher houses to remain loyal to Stannis, one of many with a claim to Highgarden as great or greater than the Tyrells. But he wasn't here. Loren had spread word far and wide, allowed the Castellan to despatch all his ravens with news of the terms Loren had struck. There was no way Stannis hadn't heard, if he was alive.
"Send the message," he said quietly. "Tell the Castellan to act as we agreed and surrender the castle. And Gerold, have word spread, I want it known in every castle held by Stannis' forces that their king is dead."
There was a pause. "Addam," Ser Addam said quietly.
Loren turned to him. "I'm sorry?"
"My name is Addam, my lord."
"I know."
"You called me Gerold."
Loren froze for a second where he felt everything. "My apologies Addam, please go spread the word."
"You're certain, my lord?"
"As I can be." Stannis would have come. This close to his front line, with this valuable political and military target, he would be obliged to come. He didn't. There is only one reason.
