Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Game of Thrones characters in the story or from the novel, A Song of Ice and Fire. Only the OCs included are mine and any original plots.
Chapter 5: Cold Winds Rising
A force of twelve thousand men had departed from the walls of Winterfell. That number had risen to eighteen thousand on their way South through the Moat which was still under the process of reconstruction. Cregan had been pleased to see that five of the nine towers and the main keep of Moat Cailin had already been built up along with the great basalt curtain wall. Soon, the ancient stronghold would once again be hailed as the fearsome Crown of Winter it had once been.
Once they emerged from the Neck and onto the fertile plains of the Riverlands, the northern host continued traveling for a day before finally making camp on the bank of a river. Tents had sprouted up everywhere, with the largest one serving as the venue for the War Council.
Cregan found himself standing inside the tent next to Robb. Theon stood on Robb's left while the Northern Lords, both the ones he had met in Winterfell and the ones who had joined the host in Moat Cailin, were fanned out all around them. A map of Westeros was spread out over a table with little pawns carved to represent each of the armies. Wolf heads for the Northmen, lion heads for the Lannister army and a fish to represent the Tullys of Riverrun.
"The Riverlords are falling back with Jaime Lannister at their heels." Robb began, bringing a lion head to where the Kingslayer was marching on and slamming it down. "And Lord Tywin is bringing around a second Lannister army from the South. Our scouts have confirmed that it's even larger than the Kingslayer's." The eldest son of Eddard and Catelyn Stark reached out and grabbed another lion head, bringing it to the point Tywin Lannister had reached.
"One army or two, the old Kings in the North threw back hosts ten times this large." The Greatjon bellowed boastfully.
"Strength in numbers is not what decides victory or defeat, Lord Umber. My Lord Father taught me that tactics and strategies were what won wars, not a few extra men." Cregan finally spoke up, his eyes trained on the map of Westeros. It was a smart strategy, he noted, for the Lannister Lord to command an army to take on the North's, while his son slowly but surely took hold of the Riverlands. His thought process was interrupted when a figure entered the tent. A wide grin broke Cregan's features as he spotted the familiar auburn hair of Catelyn Stark.
"Mother!" Robb exclaimed, his eyes widening in disbelief. Catelyn just looked back at both her sons for a long moment, seemingly unable to express her emotions in words.
"Lady Stark. You're a welcome sight in these troubled times." The Greatjon sighed remorsefully with a nod of respect to her.
"We had not thought to meet you here, My Lady." Theon added.
Catelyn glanced at the Greyjoy before speaking. "I had not thought to be here." Her blue eyes, which she shared with her eldest son, drifted over to the others in the tent. "I would like to speak with my sons alone, My Lords. I know you will forgive me."
"Of course, My Lady." The Greatjon said in the gentlest voice Cregan had heard from him. The Umber Lord then scowled and turned to look at the other Lords. "You heard her! Move your arses! Come on, out!" Cregan sniggered as he watched the Northmen quickly shuffle out of the tent. The snigger turned into a full-blown laugh when the Greatjon roughly shoved Theon out as well.
Once everyone else had exited the tent, the Lord of the Last Hearth turned to Catelyn with a large grin, putting his crooked white teeth on full display. "Have no fear, My Lady! We'll shove our swords up Tywin Lannister's bunghole and then it's on to the Red Keep to free Ned."
With a final bow, the Greatjon departed with Ser Rodrik who had accompanied their mother. As soon as the men left, Catelyn rushed forwards and pulled both her sons into a crushing embrace. After a while, she pulled away but still kept a hand on each of her sons' arms as if she was afraid they would disappear if she let go.
"I remember the day when both of you came into this world, red-faced and squalling. And now I find you both leading a host to war."
Robb pressed his lips together. "There was no one else."
Catelyn raised an eyebrow, her hands falling to her side. "No one else? Who were those men I saw here?"
"None of them are Starks." Cregan cut in, narrowing his grey eyes. "They may be seasoned commanders but none of them carry the blood of the Direwolf. The Lannisters forced our hand, mother. They started this conflict but we will end it. We will rescue father and the girls and if you mean to send us back to Winterfell..."
Catelyn sighed, cutting him off. "Oh, believe me when I say I would if I could."
Robb stepped back from their mother and plucked a scroll that lay on the table. "There was a letter. From Sansa."
Catelyn scoffed. "From the Queen you mean." She corrected her son, taking the letter in her hands. She spread it open and sat down on a stool beside the table. After a while, she looked up, glancing between her sons with a worried frown. "There is no mention of Arya."
"No, there isn't." Cregan muttered darkly.
Catelyn sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly before placing the letter back on the table and looking at Robb. "How many men do you have?"
"Eighteen thousand." Robb replied as he and Cregan sat down on either side of their mother. "If I go to King's Landing and bend my knee to Joffrey..."
Cregan's face twisted in anger at his elder brother's words but Catelyn placed a hand on his to calm him. "If you go to King's Landing, you will never be allowed to leave. Our best, no, our only hope is that you can defeat them in the field."
Robb's expression faltered. "And if we fail?"
The matriarch of House Stark glanced between her sons, desperation and fear burning bright within her Tully blue eyes. "Do you know what happened to the Targaryen children when the Mad King fell?"
"They were butchered in their beds alongside their mother, Elia Martell." Cregan chose to answer his mother's question.
The secondborn son of the Quiet Wolf had heard many tales about Robert's Rebellion over the years. His Lord Father had never talked much about the war which led to the end of the Targaryen dynasty but others around him were more than willing. There was not a soul in Westeros who didn't know what happened to Aegon and Rhaenys Targaryen, the children of Prince Rhaegar. Their fates sounded like the stuff in nightmares or Old Nan's frightening tales.
Catelyn looked at him and nodded. "On the orders of Tywin Lannister. And I assure you, the years have not made him even the slightest bit kinder." She leaned in closer to her sons and spoke with a more stressed tone of voice. "If you lose, your father dies, your sisters die and we die."
Robb pursed his lips before his body slumped as the breath he had held left his lungs. "Well, that makes it simple then."
Catelyn sighed. "I suppose it does."
"Seven Hells mother, you really know how to motivate a man!" Cregan barked with a wolfish laugh. Catelyn couldnt help but smile at his words while Robb chuckled.
Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West strode through his camp, flanked by ten loyal Lannister soldiers, nodding silently as he was greeted with bows and greetings that befit his status. He entered his private tent, leaving his men at the door. Inside, his younger brother was standing next to his desk, waiting for him.
"What news, Kevan?" The Old Lion asked, walking around his desk and lowering himself down into his seat.
"Our scouts report having seen Tyrion leaving the Vale with a band of mountain savages. He was last seen heading in this direction." Kevan informed.
Tywin hummed somewhat uncaring. "Any news of Jaime?"
"He is besieging Riverrun as we speak and will soon have the entire Riverlands under his control."
"Good." Tywin responded with a firm nod. Before he could say anything in response, Tyrion Lannister waddled through the tent flap with savage looking barbarians on his tail. Kevan instantly put his hand on the grip of his sword, moving in front of Tywin.
"Uncle." Tyrion greeted Kevan with a jovial grin before his gaze drifted over to the Lord of Casterly Rock. "Father."
"The rumors of your demise were unfounded." Tywin said gruffly, casting his youngest son the briefest of glances.
"Sorry to disappoint you." The Imp replied smoothly and sat down on a chair opposite of his father, waving to the barbarians behind him. "I would like to introduce my lovely companions. This is Shagga, son of Dolf, the chieftain of the Stone Crows. Timett, son of Timett, ruler of the Burned Men. This fair maid is Chella, daughter of Cheyk, leader of the Black Ears. And here we have Bronn, son of..."
The foul mouthed sellsword grinned toothily. "You wouldn't know him."
Tyrion shrugged then turned to the barbarians. "May I present my father, Tywin, son of Tytos of House Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West." Finally done with the introductions, he reached for the jug of wine on his father's desk. "Kind of you to go to war for me."
"You left us no choice." Tywin seethed, moving the jug out of his youngest son's reach. "The honour of our House was at stake. Your brother would never have submitted to capture so meekly."
"We have our differences, Jaime and I; he is braver, I am better looking." Tyrion mocked.
"He's been covering himself in glory." Tywin remarked.
"Jaime smashed the River Lords at the Golden Tooth, and now lays siege to Riverrun, Catelyn Stark's homeland." Kevan boasted, a clear sense of pride for his older nephew shining in his eyes.
"And the Starks? What of Lord Eddard?" Tyrion questioned thoughtfully.
"He is our hostage. He will be leading no armies from his dungeon cell." Tywin asserted.
The Imp of Casterly Rock chuckled. "And how did my sweet sister persuade the King to imprison his dear friend Ned?"
"Robert Baratheon is dead. Joffrey rules in King's Landing." The Old Lion revealed with a hint of satisfaction.
"Cersei rules, you mean." The dwarf muttered, clearly stunned by the new information.
"Stark's eldest son has called his banners." Kevan informed Tyrion. "He and his brother move South with a strong host at their back."
"Green boys." Tywin muttered, his voice devoid of emotion. "One taste of battle and they'll run back to Winterfell with their tails between their legs."
"Maybe." Tyrion muttered, unconvinced. "Though the eldest son does have a certain belligerence to him." He looked up at his father. "I think you and he would get along splendidly. Also while we are on the subject of war, I made a promise to my friends here and as you are well aware, a Lannister always pays his debts. We shall require three thousand helms and shields, plus swords, pikes, gorgets and maces-!"
The dwarf was abruptly cut off when a scout burst into the tent and promptly fell to his knee, breathing heavily. "My Lord Tywin. Ser Addam has bid me to report that the Northmen have crossed the Neck."
The Lord of Casterly Rock's weathered face twisted into something ferocious. "The wolf rushes into the lion's jaws. So be it. Kevan, command the drummers to beat assembly and send word to Jaime that I am moving against Robb Stark."
"At once, My Lord." Kevan bowed before taking his leave. Once he was gone, Tywin rose to his feet and walked over to the mountain clansmen.
"It is said that the men of the Mountain Clans are great warriors. Ride with me against my enemies and you shall have all that my son promised you and more."
"Only if the half man fights with us." Shagga spat gruffly. "Until we hold the steel that he pledged us, the little lion's life is ours."
Tywin tilted his head before glancing at his youngest son who looked absolutely terrified at the prospect of fighting.
A few hours later, the Northern Lords had all reconvened in the large tent. This time, however, Catelyn Stark, Ser Rodrik Cassel, and much to Cregan's surprise, his grand-uncle Ser Brynden Tully, had joined them. Last he had heard, the younger brother of Hoster Tully had returned to the Vale to resume his service as the Knight of the Gate for House Arryn.
During his fostering in the Riverlands, Cregan had met many different sorts of people, but none had stood out more than Ser Brynden. Throughout the four years he had stayed in the castle of Riverrun, it had been the younger brother of Hoster Tully who had tutored him in the art of combat and swordplay, helping him hone his skills and perfect his craft. It had truly been an experience to learn from him. He was a seasoned warrior, after all, a veteran of half a hundred battles.
Even at his old age, the Tully knight was still a very intimidating figure. Tall and lean, his once-auburn hair had now gone grey. He was clean-shaven, but his facial features were wind-burnt and craggy. Donning black fish-scale armor, he certainly lived up to the moniker which most of Westeros knew him by: The Blackfish. Although he was not as renowned as others his age – such as Ser Barristian Selmy and Tywin Lannister – he was still a very dangerous man and someone Cregan was glad to have as an ally.
At the moment, the secondborn son of the Quiet Wolf was staring at the map of Westeros in silence; he had been doing so for some time now. While the Lords around him argued about their battle plans, he was devising one in his head. His Stark grey eyes darted between the wolf and lion heads, his mind going over every tactic he had been taught, every piece of strategy his Lord Father had made sure to drill into his head.
"The scouts report Lord Tywin is sitting near Harrenhal and the Ruby Ford." Ser Rodrik began, as he placed a meaty finger on the map. "We need to get him on broken ground and put his knights at a disadvantage. Cut the head from the snake and clear the way to King's Landing."
The Northern Lords were, however, quick to disagree with the old knight as was Cregan, who shook his head softly, his stare never breaking away from the map. If they marched along the Green Fork, then they were banking everything on a single battle with Tywin Lannister.
"What we need to do is get around the old cunt and break Jaime Lannister's siege on Riverrun. Do that and the Riverlords will flock to our cause." The Greatjon's voice boomed throughout the tent.
"In order for that plan to succeed, we need to cross the river and the only crossing is at the Twins." Robb replied, his Tully blue eyes flitting from one Lord to the other before they finally landed on his mother. "Lord Frey controls that bridge. He is grandfather's bannerman, is he not, Mother?"
Catelyn Stark's brow furrowed as she made a face of disgust. "'The late Lord Frey' my father calls him. At the Trident, he didn't appear until after the battle was done. Some men take their oaths more seriously than others."
Everyone from the Wall to Dorne knew that Walder Frey was not a man to be trusted. Cregan had met him once during a feast at Riverrun. He had never spoken with the man himself, but his grandfather had voiced that the Lord of the Twins was a whore who cared little for what people said and more for what they could do for him. Many Riverlords regarded him as black spot on their noble homeland and Cregan believed that once he passed, people all across the Riverlands would rejoice.
Robb refused to let his head bow, however much he felt like it. Cregan understood why. Their Lord Father had always told his sons to be strong, and now they had to be stronger than ever because Eddard Stark's life depended on it. "I should talk to him."
"You'll be as likely to end up in chains as anything else," Lord Bolton spoke up, his voice soft and eerie. Cregan felt shivers run down his spine every time he laid eyes on the Lord of the Dreadfort. He had heard rumors of the man's doings in his castle; how he flayed his enemies alive and fashioned their skin into a cloak. As boisterous and fearless as he claimed to be, even he had to admit that he felt uncomfortable having such a man around him. "Lord Robb, if you go to Lord Frey yourself he can send you to the Lannisters or the Queen as he wishes."
"I'll go." Catelyn suddenly voiced and Cregan's head snapped in her direction in alarm along with Robb's. "I have known Lord Frey since I was a child. He wouldn't harm me, and I believe that I can get him to open the bridge for you."
"Expect nothing of Walder Frey and you will never be surprised." Ser Brynden muttered under his breath, a look of disgust on his face which was mirrored by many of the Lords around him.
"There is still a decision yet to be made, My Lords." Galbart Glover stated, glancing at the gathered Northern Lords. "What is our plan? Do we move against Jaime or Lord Tywin?"
"We move against them both." Cregan announced, bringing all eyes onto him. He looked up from the map and met his eldest brother's blue eyed gaze. "Tywin Lannister has split his army in two. His strategy is to destroy us while his son takes control over the Riverlands. I say we use his own tactic against him."
"What's your plan, brother?" Robb asked as he leaned forwards in interest.
"We divide our host as well." Cregan began to explain, his voice firm and exuding confidence. This was what he had been taught to do. Warfare had always been his strength and now it was time for him to put all the lessons he had learnt to good use. "One army will consist mostly of our cavalry and the other will consist of the foot. The horsemen will be tasked with riding against the Kingslayer. The host of footmen will march down the Kingsroad to engage Tywin Lannister. Their job will be to hold the old cunt and keep him from rushing to the aid of his son."
As soon as he was done speaking, his eyes flitted across the room, taking note of the Northern Lords' reactions. His eldest brother placed his hands flat on the table, staring intently at the map and contemplating the plan. When Cregan's gaze fell on his mother, he found her staring right at him. A small smile rested on her face and her Tully blue eyes glowed with pride. Cregan smiled at her before his attention was grabbed by Ser Rodrik.
"It could work..." The Master at Arms of Winterfell mumbled, his brow furrowing in thought.
"What if Lord Tywin suspects a feint?" The Master of Deepwood Motte voiced in question.
"It wouldn't matter." Cregan replied, casting a quick glance at Galbart Glover. "As long as there is a host on the Kingsroad, he cannot simply abandon his post. If he does, that will leave King's Landing ripe for the taking."
"You're a bloody genius, boy!" Lord Rickard Karstark barked out with a laugh, slapping Cregan on the back. It felt more painful than the Lord of Karhold probably intended though.
"We would be leading the host of footmen to their deaths." Robb muttered, a conflicted glint in his eyes.
Cregan contemplated his brother's words before speaking again. "How many footmen do we have?"
"Roughly fifteen thousand." Ser Wyllis Manderly announced.
"Then the plan of action is simple." The secondborn son of the Quiet Wolf continued after nodding at the heir of White Harbor. "Out of the host of footmen, only a thousand should engage the Lannister army at the Green Fork. If the second host sets up their defenses on this hill..." Cregan pointed to the cluster of hills near the Green Fork drawn on the map. "…the Lannisters will believe that the men being sent to engage them are the vanguard. As soon as blood is drawn and the battle begins, the rest of the host will retreat and reform the army at the Causeway. That way, we can keep the losses to a minimum."
"How can we be sure that Lord Tywin will not give chase?" Lord Medger Cerwyn questioned.
"Lord Tywin values Jaime Lannister, more than he does the rest of his children." The Blackfish answered in Cregan's place, eyeing the secondborn son of the Quiet Wolf with a large degree of pride in his gaze. "He was greatly angered when the Mad King appointed him to his Kingsguard, effectively stealing him as his heir. If Tywin learns that Ser Jaime is in danger then he will likely break of any assault or pursuit of us to go save him."
"We are at war, brother." Cregan tried to reason upon seeing that his brother was still not entirely convinced. "Losses are to be expected and sacrifices have to be made. I do not like it either but it's better than engaging in open battle with the Lannisters. This is the best course of action we can take with the fewest number of casualties on our side."
The rest of the Northern Lords all directed their gazes onto Robb, awaiting to hear his command. Cregan kept his hands clenched in anticipation.
"Very well then." Robb announced firmly. A wide grin split Cregan's features and he relaxed his hands as his eldest brother cast a small smile in his direction. "I will take the cavalry and lead them to Riverrun. Lord Bolton…" The Leech Lord of the Dreadfort looked up at the mention of his name. "…you will command the host of footmen."
Roose did not smile or boast at the order given to him, but simply nodded. "It will be done."
Robb nodded in response before he dismissed the council. One by one, the Northern Lords filtered out of the tent, some of them clapping Cregan on the shoulder as they went by, until finally, only he, Robb and their mother were left.
"You did well." Catelyn announced after a moment of silence. "Both of you did well."
"Cregan is the one who came up with the strategy. A brilliant one at that." Robb said, not wanting to take credit away from his younger brother. "But a part of me still wonders if I'm doing the right thing. I always imagined what it would be like to go to war. I thought it would be glorious. But now, here I am giving orders and all I feel is…terrified."
"You can't afford to show fear or doubt, brother." Cregan spoke up, meeting Robb's blue eyed gaze. "I've told you before, and I'll say it again: you are the Lord of Winterfell now. You saw how all the Lords looked to you for approval of the battle plan. You have the last word and the moment you start doubting yourself, so will the others. Don't give any of them the chance to do so."
"Those words apply to yourself as well, Cregan." The matriarch of House Stark stated as she glanced between her sons. "Neither of you can afford to seem indecisive in front of men like Roose Bolton and Rickard Karstark. Make no mistake, these are your bannermen, not your friends. The two of you should make that very clear in your heads before making any decision."
"Yes, mother." Cregan and Robb uttered in unison and Catelyn nodded, satisfied with their answer.
"Good. Now I must make my way to the Twins and meet with Lord Frey and you two need to rest."
"Make sure to tell the old cunt that if he lays a finger on you I'll rip his entrails out and feed them to Sif." Cregan said, making Robb laugh at his threat.
Catelyn's lips curled upwards in a thin smile and she cupped her secondborn son's cheek in her hand. "I don't think I will be passing your threat along, my sweet boy. But regardless, thank you."
