Robb Stark's army marched through the Riverlands as they arrived at the ancient and ruined castle of Harrenhal. The fortress was massive, a sprawling behemoth stretching on for miles. Its walls were blackened and twisted, a testament to the dragonfire used to destroy it during the War of Conquest. Yet, despite its ruined state, Harrenhal still held a sense of foreboding power, as if the stones were cursed.
"We should set the siege lines 1,000 yards from Harrenhal," Roose Bolton told Robb.
"There won't be a siege," Robb retorted. "The Mountain can't defend a ruin."
"The Mountain will defend whatever Tywin Lannister tells him."
"The Lannisters have been running from us since Oxcross. I'd love a fight. The men would love a fight. But, unfortunately, I don't think we'll get one." Robb gestured for his horse to approach the ruined castle and entered through the main gates of Harrenhal.
As Robb Stark dismounted from his horse, his eyes scanned the castle's courtyard with curiosity and trepidation. His trusted lords and bannermen accompanied him, each with their swords drawn and ready for any sudden attack. The silence that greeted them was unnerving, broken only by the constant buzzing of flies that hovered over pools of blood. It served as a macabre reminder of the recent violence in the very spot. The gruesome sight of Lannister prisoners' lifeless bodies decorating the walls and the presence of other corpses scattered around made Robb's heart heavy with sorrow and anger. Yet, he knew that their journey had not ended, and the dangers they faced would only increase from here on out.
Roose Bolton and Lord Karstark stood side by side, surveying the gruesome scene before them.
Lord Karstark's voice was heavy with grief and anger as he spoke. "Two hundred Northmen slaughtered like sheep," he stated bitterly. His loss was severe on his shoulders, and he couldn't help but think of his two sons, who had met a similar fate.
Roose Bolton's eyes were grim as he turned to face Lord Karstark. "The debt will be repaid, my friend," he assured him in a low voice. "For them and your sons."
Lord Karstark's voice was thick with doubt and bitterness as he replied, "Will it? They rot in the ground while their killer runs free." The pain of his loss was still fresh, and he couldn't bear the thought of their murderer walking free.
Roose Bolton's expression hardened, his eyes glinting with determination. "The Kingslayer won't remain free for long," he vowed. "My best hunters are after him." His words were a promise, a pledge to avenge the fallen and to restore justice to the North.
Catelyn walked slowly through the courtyard, her steps measured and heavy with grief. Her eyes were fixed on the bodies lying on the ground, their lifeless forms a grim reminder of the recent battle. Rumplestiltskin trailed behind her.
Rumplestiltskin's voice broke the silence as they surveyed the scene before them. "They didn't deserve this," he muttered, his words weighted with sadness and regret.
Catelyn nodded in agreement, her heart heavy with sorrow for the fallen soldiers. She was about to speak when a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts. It was her son, Robb, striding purposefully towards them.
Robb's gaze fell on one of the fallen soldiers, and recognized the crest on the knight's armour. "A Mallister?" he murmured, his brow furrowing in concern.
"Ser Jeremy," Catelyn said. "My father's bannerman," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She had known Ser Jeremy well, and seeing him like this was a painful blow.
Robb turned to a group of his knights. "Find my mother a chamber that will serve as a cell," he ordered them curtly. Catelyn felt a pang of anxiety as she realized what was happening. She knew her recent actions had put her in a precarious position with her son, and she still had to face the consequences.
"She's your mother, dearie," Rumplestiltskin told Robb.
Talisa Maegyr had arrived just in time to witness the exchange. "She freed Jaime Lannister," Robb reminded him, his voice laced with disappointment and frustration. "A choice that you backed entirely."
Rumplestiltskin's eyes met Robb's, and for a moment, they locked in a silent battle of wills. Despite knowing that the man couldn't be held in a cell, Robb still harboured resentment towards him for his role in his mother's decision.
But Rumplestiltskin wasn't one to be easily cowed. "Only to free your sisters from the Lannisters," he countered, his voice ringing with conviction. "She did what she thought was right, just as we all do."
"The same Lannisters who robbed them of their sons. Freeing Jaime Lannister robbed them of their justice," Robb said with a tone of anger and despair.
Suddenly, a cough from the corpses on the ground startled them all. Robb, Talisa and Rumplestiltskin looked around, trying to locate the source of the sound. That's when they noticed a maester moving among the dead bodies. The man seemed to be in a terrible condition, his body wounded and his voice hoarse. "Water," he croaked, desperately in need of hydration.
Without hesitation, Rumplestiltskin materialised a goblet of water in his hand and passed it to the man. The maester eagerly drank from it, his eyes closing in relief. Talisa noticed the wounds on the maester's body and immediately knew what needed to be done. "This needs to be cleaned and closed," she noted, her voice firm and commanding.
Robb turned his attention to the maester. "What's your name, friend?"
"Qyburn," the man replied, his voice weak and feeble. Rumplestiltskin waved his hand over Qyburn's body, and a light purple glow emanated from his fingertips, healing the wounds on the maester's body. Qyburn felt part of his strength returning to him, and he couldn't believe he was still alive after the massacre.
"Lucky?" he asked, looking at the scattered corpses around him, the memories of the brutal battle still fresh in his mind. The scene was a reminder of the price of war and how it leaves behind a trail of death and destruction.
