*Same music as noted in previous chapter.
300 AC
Robb Stark
His force had marched from their camp and taken positions in the tree line just past the eastern hill. The battle would take place in rolling fields where two, prominent hills stood. The woods he hid in were to the east of the eastern hill.
It had taken time to ensure that all aspects of his plan were understood. It would only work if every commander knew their role and the timing of each maneuver needed to be perfect.
Ser Lymond Goodbrook was given command of the battalion of archers to be used as bait. Robb was impressed with skill during the Siege of Harrenhal, so felt justified in his decision.
Instead of a center, and two flanks, Robb had decided to only organize them into two columns. The right column would be led by himself. It would be made up of much of the Northern highlanders including; the Umbers, Mormonts, Glovers, now under the command of Lord Robett Glover. Much of the Riverlander component would be with him as well. Ser Imry and Ser Stevron held joint command of the Riverlanders joining his column.
His brother Edwyle was the overall commander of the left column. His force was mostly made up of those of the Eastern Shoulder of the North, Karstark spearmen made up the bulk of his frontlines, but the Lockes, Flints, Hornwoods, Manderlys, and the remnants of the Bolton forces joined the lines as well. Much like Robb had the Riverlords, Edwyle had the Vale lords behind him.
Holding his fist into the air, he heard the many lords and commanders and sergeants call out to halt their marching. With the flick of his wrist and not a word spoken, Robb ordered the archers under Ser Lymond to advance over the hill and take their positions.
Sitting still for a moment, he eventually looked over to his brother and nodded. They'd probably be here for a while. Getting off his horse, he noted how many of the men began to relax themselves. Some of the older peasant sergeants kept their troop on alert; no doubt having served during Greyjoy's Rebellion or Robert's. For now, he calmed himself before the coming battle.
"So…how're ya feeling?" Edwyle asked him. It was just the two of them. Many of the other lords seemed content to allow the two brothers this time of peace.
"This war needs to end Ed. I wish to see Dacey, I want to hold Samsyn, I would never want to leave Winterfell again."
"Ha! Now you're starting to sound like father. Oh don't give me that look. You've heard him. But look at us now, much like he was if you think about it. Remember Robb, what you are thinking, what you are wishing for, its normal, and no man could fault you for that."
"Edwyle, promise me something, yeah?"
"Of course, what is it."
"Should I fall…should I fall and return to Winterfell to be put into the crypts of our House, promise me you will look after Samsyn? Do not let him grow cold and distant. Make him grow up in laughter, in happiness. The holder of Winterfell is a stressful position, you and I have had to learn early, let him have his childhood."
Edwyle, a boy who had always been older than his actual age, nodded in understanding. There were no words of resistance, nor words of how Robb would never fall. Edwyle was a realist, this was war.
"Of course brother. Had you even needed me to say it?"
"I just had to make sure." Though this was more to himself than to his brother. But he turned once more to his brother with a smirk to lighten the mood. "Only…just tell me you won't go all 'Bennard Stark' on your nephew."
Edwyle didn't respond but let out a light chuckle. "Are you jesting? Your promise is the only thing keeping me in Winterfell, I'd rather be in Moat Cailin any way."
"I've been meaning to ask you…what do you wish to do with your new lordship?"
"In what regard?"
"Edwyle, don't insult me. You have been gifted the largest castle in the North behind Winterfell itself. Not to mention that your new demesne will take up a large tract of land as well."
"Ah, well in terms of the land itself, I have had some thoughts. I hope to establish at least a small village just outside the walls. A good resting point for travelers coming and going through the Neck and the marshes there. It is good land too, no doubt a number of small villages for farming could start up as well. I had wished to establish a mining village somewhere, but I think not, perhaps a quarry at best."
"And for larger projects?"
"You know, this might surprise you, but at one point, I had considered a large project of creating a canal that would connect the Fevre River to The Bite, but-"
"But what? That would be an excellent plan."
"Aye, but deeply expensive, and most likely massively unpopular with the rest of Westeros. After all, the Reach, Dorne, and the Stormlands all critically rely on the North and the Vale to go south to go west, and the Westerlands, Iron Islands, and the North to go south to go east. Besides, a project of that size would no doubt require a royal commission."
"I have no doubt about that, but King Robert adores father, he would-"
"I have no doubt that King Robert would hand out a commission and warrant for such an idea, but King Robert is an unhealthy man, and no longer a young one. Now, without any heirs born of his own seed, his official heir is Stannis Baratheon; not a bad man, but a practical and dutiful one. If he ascends the Iron Throne, he will not continue to allow us in the North to have preferential treatment."
"But we haven't!"
"Robb, you believe the largely isolationist policy that father has practiced is normal? To the rest Westeros it might as well be a free ticket for us to do anything we wish to. I know we haven't, but the North must realize that we are not alone on the continent. This game of politicking, this Game, in the south, it is not what one is, but how one appears to be."
"By the Old Gods, now I have even a lesser wish to remain in the south."
"Too bad for you I believe too." Edwyle chuckled.
"What do you mean?"
Edwyle looked at him in confusion before a face of pity crossed himself. "Robb…don't tell me that…no matter. Robb, since this conflict has started, you have single-handedly led the entire northern campaign. Stop! Do not try to deny it, you have rallied mother's land to you, and have charmed the Vale lords as well."
"That was more your doing." Robb quietly murmured.
"Don't interrupt me." Edwyle chastised amusingly. "Whether you realize it or not, when this war is over, you will be requested by King Robert to come to court in King's Landing for at least a small portion of time. Hell, you're the damned leader of basically all royal forces north of the Gold Road."
He sat silently as Ed's words finally hit him. In the stress of the past moons, it was just one thing after another. Looking back, he sees it now. After every victory, after every successful diplomatic overture; he had been establishing himself.
"Robb, you are undoubtedly one of, if not, the most promising heir to a Lord Paramount ship, currently in the realm, at least on parchment."
"Do not forget yourself brother."
"Oh don't worry, I shan't let you keep all the victory; but I'm more comfortable being the follower, not the leader, to you. Aye, I can handle battles, but my skill is in cavalry, hit and runs, and quick strikes. Although vital to warfare, to most pompous lords, it is not very glorious."
"Piss on that! If it was up to me, you'd be getting any awards sent my way."
"And I'll happily take them! But remember our previous conversation; to the south, it is what one appears to be, not what they actually are. Despite my actions in this war, they are uninteresting to the bards, to the lords, to the smallfolk. It is people like you, like King Robert, like Ser Barristan, that all the stories will be told of. And as such, you will be the most recognized."
And so, the two wolf brothers enjoyed their own company for as long as they could. But time is not a thing that is gentle or understanding. Because after a lull in the noise, they heard faint sounds. And they realized what it was. It was the sound of an army on the move.
"Must be Tywin and his host." Edwyle murmured under his breathe.
"Aye, must be." Robb confirmed.
The two brothers looked at each other before Edwyle stuck his arm out to shake. Robb shoved it aside and quickly hugged his brother. "Watch out for yourself." He whispered in Ed's ear.
"See you on the other side." He countered. Grey Wind and Phantom both yipped and circled each other, no doubt sharing the same message between the littermates.
The brothers Stark disengaged, and without another word, turned and made their way back to their respective columns. Once he reached his horse, he ordered his squire, Olyver Frey, to the crest of the hill.
"Only go so far as you can see yourself, I do not wish for the enemy to see you." The trusty Frey nodded in understanding before running up the hill, before lying flat on his stomach and crawled the rest of the way, just so he could see what was on the other side.
For the next nearly hour, they sat waiting. Until finally, Olyver crawled back and started to sprint down the hill as fast as he could, but safe enough not to trip.
"My lord! My lord. The Lannisters have sent their van to charge the archers. No doubt Ser Lymond will soon order the retreat."
"Good." He turned to the army. "March and let them hear the sounds of Northern fury!"
And so thousands of men marched up the hill, all the while playing the sweetest sound to him.
"Spears!" He heard a captain call out. "Shields tight boys!" Another sergeant shouted. He heard a number of minor commands for a half a minute, and then they came.
Like the water over a cliff, the royal force marched over the hill.
And Lannister van did not expect what they saw. Unlike the fleeing archers they expected to run down, they are instead tight, readied, formations of heavy infantry with strong shields and long spears and pikes.
All of a sudden, the Lannisters encountered heavy infantry holding the high ground. From this distance, he could even see the wide eyes of shock on the eyes of the front-line riders of the enemy van.
Before the first few riders could rein in their mounts, they crashed into the heavy shield wall. Due to the large weight, many mounts and their riders actually rolled over the first lines.
But it was not a breach that broke the lines, instead they were quickly dispatched by the lines of infantry further back.
"Reform! Reform!" Robb heard a strong voice call out. Training his eyes, he finally found the source. His tabard was of a raging boar on brown. He had reminded him of a man at Harrenhal. He had learned that the man he had slain was Ser Lyle Crakehall. Robb could only assume that this was man was related to Ser Lyle. He was older, that much was clear. Perhaps a father, or an uncle.
But despite the man's effort, his words fell on deaf ears. Too much chaos had reigned.
"Inside flanks break!" Robb shouted, his other lords and commanders relayed the command. Soon, the inner flanks of the two columns pulled back, allowing a space for the cavalry to fall into.
Once a sizable amount fell into it, the flanks reformed, and slaughtered the enemy forces. It was a gruesome, but effective strategy.
At this point, the skirmish was more mopping up the last remnants of their force. The Crakehall man had been knocked off his horse. Robb didn't know if he was killed or captured, but he lost sight of the man.
Once the mess was stabilized, Robb knew the time had come.
He let out a sigh.
He closed his eyes and prayed.
He prayed for Edwyle, he prayed for his father, he prayed for Dacey and Samsyn. He prayed for his men and the lords that followed him. He prayed for himself.
And he opened his eyes.
He could see the enemy lines swaying and faltering, the enemy horse was trying to calm their mounts. From the noise of the bagpipes and drums.
But they were eventually able to calm themselves. But his men had been invigorated by the music. A tune meant to revitalize men.
The Battle of the Rivers had begun.
"…And so it ends."
