Reviews make me write faster! - I use the quatermaester interactive game of thrones map when writing.
shadiversity's 'The True WINTERFELL according to the books' on youtube is an epic video that clearly shows the difference between Winterfell in the books and in the show. He makes a mistake in saying Riverrun and Casterly Rock are bigger than Winterfell, when in fact only Harenhall has that honour. Casterly Rock has more volume than Winterfell, but it is inside a mountain. The actual external defences are much smaller. Riverrun is just a straight up mistake. Otherwise it's fucking epic – you can actually fit 100,000 soldiers on Winterfell's walls! Now, back to the story.
Renly Baratheon
My plan had worked like a charm.
Presenting Ned with something as close to a straight-talking, honourable, Northerner as he could expect to find on the small council had caused him to warm up me considerably. And nailing my colours to the mast with regards to Cersei and Joffrey at supper had just sealed the deal. Hence why I had been invited to the Hand's solar after supper had finished.
Granted speaking out against Cersei and Joffrey like that was going to cause me problems, but they would only be major problems if things weren't already going to go to hell in a matter of weeks.
Robert would rant and rave at the disrespect at court, but he would not remove me as Master of Laws any time soon, not when I'd just be replaced with yet another Lannister puppet. It wasn't as if he cared what I'd said anyway. He hated Cersei, and he had said to Ned the only reason he didn't pack it all in, abdicate, and go and fight as a sellsword in Essos, was the knowledge that Joffrey would become king. He was no doubt hoping pinning all his hopes for the future on Sansa whipping his firstborn into shape – the bloody fool.
Being so obviously in the king's disfavour would be a blow to my social standing and the respect I commanded. But that wasn't going to be a problem long term either, as I was pretty sure I wouldn't be able to save Robert. Not even if Ned ended up co-operating fully with me. He didn't listen to Ned, let alone me, so one of Cersei's assassination plots was bound to make it through whatever I did.
Joffrey despising me himself was no problem, as I had no intention of bowing to the sadistic and capricious little shit. That was just asking to lose my head for 'looking at him wrong' or 'breathing too loudly'. If he actually ever got any power, I'd already be in open revolt.
Cersei, however, was a problem.
I had no doubt that I had just painted a very large target on my back with her. But at the same time, it was unlikely that she had any immediate plans ready to go for Renly as she had for Robert, so it would take time for her to set something up. Especially as it actually had to look like an accident as my brother was still alive and wouldn't take my death well, no matter his opinion of me was. She'd run out of time before managing to strike at me if my guesswork on Robert's date with a boar was even vaguely correct.
Siding against her so publicly had the potential for a long-term payoff as well. Once everything went up in flames and Cersei was let loose, people who were sullenly obedient now, but would be pushed to actually move against her when she finally got the power she craved, would remember that it was me that had stood up and nailed my colours to the mast when they were all keeping their heads down.
It would likely get me back the respect I had lost in their eyes and more besides. Even if it didn't, it was certainly a bolder move than would have been expected from Renly. Removing some of the lingering impressions of squeamishness that still hung around my reputation at court.
I forced myself out of my self-congratulatory daze as we finally reached the top of the seemingly never-ending spiral staircase and entered the Hand's suite at the top of the Tower of the Hand.
"Lord Renly…" Lord Stark began speaking once the door to his solar closed behind us, but I put a finger to my lips and gestured for him to be quiet.
Obviously confused, he thankfully still indulged me as I strode towards one of the two other doors present. The one which hopefully led to the Hand's bedchamber, not the privy. I had a 50/50 chance.
Lord Stark looked offended once I entered his bedchamber and opened his mouth, no doubt to berate me, but I simply strode confidently over to the thankfully empty fireplace and began my search before he could begin speaking. Running my fingers over stone revealed nothing so I poked, prodded, pulled, pushed – and on one very painful occasion punched – until finally, with a 'click', my efforts were rewarded. A half meter wide and one-and-a-half-meter tall hatch in the sidewall of the fireplace slid back, revealing staples set into the wall of a tight shaft that plunged into darkness.
"Is that…." Lord Stark trailed off; his voice as awestruck as Arya's had been earlier as he stuck his head in the shaft and looked down into its unknown depths.
"A secret shaft? Using each floor's fireplace to run the entire hight of the Tower of the Hand, before continuing down through the bedrock and finally ending in the biggest nexus of the entire Red Keep's secret tunnel network? Yes. Though gods preserve the poor bastards that have to use it to spy in winter when all the fires are lit." I probably sounded inordinately pleased with myself. But in my defence, I had every right to be. If I hadn't discovered how to open the passage I knew of only from the books, me striding into Eddard Stark's bedchamber, with Renly's reputation, would likely have meant becoming acquainted with Northern fists.
I took a candle and gently pulled Lord Stark's head out of the shaft so I could take a look with better light and make sure that our conversation would go unheard. "There's a chamber beneath the foundations of the Tower of the Hand. I call it the Chamber of the Dragon Mosaic because of its floor. As I said, it's the biggest nexus in the secret tunnel network. Six of them meet there and you can supposedly get to any other secret tunnel in the keep via one of those six. Apparently when Maegor built the Keep, he really didn't trust his Hand. Mind you he also had his nephew tortured to death over eight days despite the boy being a perfect squire in every way just to inflict pain on his sister, so it really shouldn't be surprising he spent most of his time in the passages spying on the most powerful man in the realm he wasn't related to.
I made sure Lord Stark saw the method for making the secret hatch swing back into place as I closed it. "These days it's more difficult. Those six passages are all blocked by locked iron gates that neither Jon Arryn nor I had the keys to. We never had the time to get the locksmiths, blacksmiths, and map makers required to start sorting things out. There was always something more pressing to do, and we could never have guaranteed secrecy due to the noise."
That was a blatant lie. Jon Arryn was dead by the time I arrived, and Renly had never truly interacted with him beyond the small council meetings. But just as there was no-one left to tell Lord Stark about Jon and Stannis's investigation, there was no-one left to tell the Lord of Winterfell that I was lying when I made it seem as if I, not Stannis, was his surrogate father's confidant and ally.
The Warden of the North looked like he was recovering as we walked back into his solar, so I decided to keep him off balance.
"So, did you have a nice meeting with your wife yesterday?"
"How did you know about that?" He hissed, gripping the back of his chair as any thoughts he had of interrogating me came to a screeching halt.
"Oh, I wouldn't be surprised if everyone in the city knows. Littlefinger picked an interesting hiding place, and he made a credible effort at getting you out of the keep without anyone noticing. But really, none of it matters if Lady Catelyn was spotted the moment she stepped off the ship. I'm afraid she isn't nearly as good at the game as she thinks she is. There're only so many auburn-haired women with highborn manners and a bag of silver stags for the ship's rowers that have a sudden need to come south from White Harbour right now after all. I'd be surprised that Littlefinger even bothered with the charade; if I didn't know he enjoyed humiliating you by leading you around like a lost puppy while hiding your wife in one of his brothels as she thanked him for it. All of it utterly pointless apart from for his own pleasure, and to hide this from the king of course. But as long as none of the many people who already know of her presence tell him, you could hide her here in the Tower of the Hand and he'd never find out."
I simply waved my hand and put on an indulgent smile during my explanation, as if humouring a boy having his first swordplay lessons. Which was far too close to the truth when it came to Eddard Stark and politics. If he was lord paramount of any kingdom except the North, he would have gotten House Stark usurped long ago.
Eddard Stark was very much the Kevan Lannister of the North. The honourable, dutiful, brother; trained to be a solid and utterly trustworthy steward and commander for Brandon, who was trained to actually get his hands dirty and rule. Only the Stark's long and bloody legacy as the Kings of Winter, the majority of the North's uniquely genuine reverence for honour, and Rickard Stark's skilful elimination of any domestic threats as he planned his rebellion against Aerys, had allowed Eddard Stark to rule for so long without encountering any obstacles beyond his existing skills that would force him to grow as a ruler.
King's Landing would not be so accommodating.
Case in point; he hadn't mentioned that the King might not find out if he brought Catelyn here, but that the Queen certainly would. Robert probably wouldn't notice even if Catelyn was in front of him, as he spent most of his time in a drunken haze wandering from his whore filled chambers, to the feasting hall, to the private dining room, and to the stables to go hunting – in one long torturous cycle. Hiding things from him was simple.
Cersei however, had the third largest number of spies in Kings Landing now Jon Arryn was gone, and she certainly didn't know that Catelyn was here. Littlefinger's plan depended on it, and Varys had his own reasons for not wanting the wolf and the lion at each other's throats yet.
"I supposed you know what we discussed as well." The Lord of Winterfell remarked bitterly.
This time my laugh was self-deprecating to sooth his pride and deflect suspicion onto the others. "You think far too much of me Lord Stark. Littlefinger and Lord Varys are as much my superior in the gathering of whispers as Ser Loras is in matters of swordplay. I have no knowledge of what you discussed."
Left unsaid was that Cersei was my superior in resilience. She might well be a strong narcissist with sociopathic tendencies, and from the books I was pretty certain that would be a genuine diagnosis if she were ever professionally assessed, but she survived everything anyone could throw at her.
No matter how big a knockout punch someone landed, Cersei Lannister simply would not stay down. Time and again she not only survived, but somehow restored her broken power before striking back with a cruelty and vindictiveness that made her willing to consider plans that even left even the greatest players completely blindsided. Mainly because they were so completely unthinkable no person who truly understood the consequences would even contemplate them. But considering consequences had never been Cersei's strong suit, and that recklessness had only gotten worse as she got her hands on more power.
Only Margery Tyrell had ever seen that before it was too late.
Sansa Stark had the right of it when she had described Cersei – Anyone who'd ever crossed her she'd found a way to murder, and, right now, I was deliberately putting myself on her shit list and siding with her opponent. An opponent I knew she severely out matched even if Littlefinger wasn't sabotaging him.
It was a sobering thought.
I turned my attention back to the Lord of Winterfell before the silence between us stretched for too long.
My admission of ignorance had seemed to mollify Lord Stark. But before he could get complacent, I wanted to establish my credentials of logic-based extrapolation with him. It was the only way I was going to be able to pass off my knowledge of what was to come.
"I have several guesses as to what you discussed with Lady Catelyn though. Would you like to hear them?"
The Lord of Winterfell's face was set in a stone mask. "I get the impression I'm going to, whether I'd like to or not."
I smirked a little at his jest as I outlined my extrapolation. "Lady Catelyn came to see you with great speed, but also with what she felt was great secrecy. This means that the problem she brought to you was immediate, but not public. That rules out things like a bannermen in open rebellion, Ironborn raids, or a Wildling attack on the Wall. She'd have had no problem riding down the Kingsroad with a powerful escort to bring news of that sort to you on the journey south."
I began to pace across the room, a habit I had always had when I was deep in thought.
"So, the problem is secret, but immediate, and it affects her enough that she's willing to travel to you herself with only a single knight as an escort. The attempted assassination of a member of House Stark is my guess. I say attempted; because news of a successful assassination would have spread like wildfire."
Despite me pausing my pacing to look directly at him, Lord Stark gave nothing away. So, I resumed pacing.
"That leaves the target, of which there are two, Robb and Brandon. Robb is the Stark in Winterfell, but after him are crippled boy of ten who is still adjusting, and a boy that has only just seen his sixth name day. Neither of them can rule, and while your Northern bannermen might follow your wife for a few moons until Robb comes into his majority, they would never allow a woman as proudly and stubbornly southern as Catelyn Tully to hold that position for the years Bran or Rickon would need her to be Lady Regent. You remember the fuss they kicked up when you built the first sept in the North outside of White Harbour for her? Despite it being smaller than a smallfolk house? No, Lady Stark is too southern, to different, for the Lords of the North to follow her as regent for years. Which leaves both Lord Bolton as your most powerful bannerman, and Lord Karstark as your closest northern kin, ideally positioned to seize the position of regent for Brandon and Rickon."
I stared at the long wooden chest standing against the wall as I spoke, it was open, displaying Ice in all its glory along with its wolf pelt scabbard, a symbol of House Stark's strength. The Stark's had unified the North with swords, arrows, and blood. But above all, they'd done it with cunning. The former Red Kings especially were always looking for a chance to usurp or undo that achievement, and right now Roose Bolton was more cunning than any Stark alive. Rickard Stark's death had been a truly devastating blow.
Brandon going with him had been near crippling.
"With control of Moat Cailin, they could repulse any attempt you made by land to undo their usurpation of the North from you. Of course your friendship with King Robert makes Robb the more unlikely of the two targets; since despite the time it would take, you could rely on the Royal Fleet to transport the Crownlands and Stormlands armies to White Harbour and unravel the whole scheme. Even if none of your other bannermen took the field with you against the Bolton-Karstark usurpers. Which I find unlikely, but it does depend on how long they have to entrench their position and what they offer. They would have a Stark in Winterfell to offer a veil of legitimacy after all, so it is possible you could land only to find the North united against you. No matter how remote that possibility is."
Ned was now looking at me far more calculatingly. The chair was making alarming creaking noises from the white knuckled grip he had on it, especially when is right hand twitched in the direction of Ice.
"And someone's reasons for killing Bran?
Excellent, I had his attention.
"Four that I can think of. The first, and least likely, is that someone's scheme to use his position as heir to the unmarried, childless, and reckless, Edmure Tully, has been badly thrown off by the likelihood that Brandon will likely find fathering children very difficult. Though not necessarily impossible. Unwilling to take the risk or marry their candidate to a cripple, they've decided to remove him from the Tully succession by force so they can transfer their plans to Rickon. Riverrun and the lord paramountcy of the Trident is something people would spill a lot of blood to claim after all."
"Bran could still lay with a woman?" Ned asked in shock. Reminding me that there weren't many people in medieval society that had the resources to survive being confined to a wheelchair. So a disabled sex life, or any sort of life, was not something that was widely known. There was a reason Ned had been so despondent about Bran's future in his own thoughts in the books, no matter what he had said aloud to his other children.
"I make no promises." I didn't want to give him false hope, but Bran could still live a good life and he needed to see that. "It depends where and how badly his back is broken as to whether he can rise to the occasion, or if he has any sensation. If he cannot rise, the maester's have potions to assist such matters. If his sensation is much reduced, it simply means his future wife will have to work harder to bring him to completion. If he has no sensation, then he will never father children, but that does not mean he can't enjoy laying with a woman. Just that he won't find completion in the traditional way; but the pleasure houses of the free cities are experts in bringing people pleasure in non-traditional ways. A tutor for his future wife could be easily arranged."
Much to my surprise Ned strode over and took both my shoulders in a vicelike grip. "Thank you!" He exclaimed, gratitude filling his voice. "You have given me hope that my son will find his future bearable, which is something I thought no-one could do."
I must have acted as shocked as I felt since Lord Stark released me quickly.
"I hope I have been able to do the same for your son himself, Lord Stark. Those few days when I was unsure if I would ever walk again following the fitting fever have given me a feeling of great companionship with your son, despite us never having met. I cannot help him to walk again as Ser Loras helped me; but I had my maester request designs from the acolytes at the Citadel for a saddle that a cripple could use to ride. I sent the ones he deemed best to Winterfell for your own maester to examine, and to commission the one he feels would be best for Brandon. He will be able to ride again; and when he is ahorse, he will be as free and mobile as any who accompany him. I suspect that is something he will find great relief in. I also sent two shortbows I had crafted sent to Winterfell for Brandon and Rickon with the following messenger. They were made from a branch of the weirwood heart tree in Storm's End's godswood, as those of the Raven's Teeth were. Bran will learn to fight and hunt from horseback, my lord, make no mistake. His life is not over."
Bran was one of my favourite characters, and I hated what happened to him. The joy filled child with the heart of gold who made all around him smile had been reduced to a bitter shell by the time he reached Bryden Rivers in that cursed cave, and after that…
The Children of the Forest fed that bitterness, as well as hiding many things from Bran and the others. The flames of resentment they fanned in the young boy's heart had slowly claimed him, as he performed two of the three forbidden warging abominations before growing colder. Beginning to see his companions as things to be used or fooled rather than as the friends they were.
Then the darkness truly began to seep into Bran Stark.
The last chapter we had from him had filled me with horror for reasons I could not bear to think of right now lest I break down.
No one deserved the fate that had befallen Bran in the far north, it was worse than the tortures the psychopathic Ramsey Bolton had inflicted on Sansa and Theon because at least the two of them were old enough to understand what was happening to them. At least they kept their souls, no matter what else Ramsey took away from them.
If I let Bran go beyond the Wall, I knew he would lose his soul before the story was over. And the worst thing was, as he was so young, with no adults or friends left to guide him, he would not even realise it was gone. In a world where magic and souls were real…
I quickly shut down that line of thought and refocused on the present.
Lord Stark had been staring at my legs while I was wool-gathering, likely thinking of the effects the fitting fever I claimed to have suffered usually had and comparing it to the least of the dangers bearing down on Bran. That of a life without his legs. He thrust a cup of wine into my hands, still gripping one shoulder tightly, and nodded in respect.
I accepted the wine and gulped it down eagerly. Thinking of the fates that awaited Sansa, Theon, and Bran if I didn't play my cards right had left me very close to spewing my guts all over the solar floor.
"Please my lord; call me Ned." Lord Stark intoned gratefully. "Someone who has done so much for my son deserves to. And please continue with your guesses, I ask only that you take into account that you are correct. It was an attempted assassination that my wife brought me news of, and Bran was the target. She managed to fight off the assassin and then my son's direwolf arrived and tore him to shreds. Given your accuracy so far, believe me when I say I am listening to your counsel on this matter intently."
"As you say Lord…..Ned." I replied making a show of rethinking things as I drank more wine, my stomach finally settling. I was sure to keep any comments of the infamous Valyrian steel dagger locked away. Ned had cleverly held it back as a control factor to trap me with if I knew more than I was saying and wasn't careful with my words. It was another reminder that while he was inexperienced and too trusting, Ned wasn't naive or foolish.
"In light of this new information I stand by the last scenario as the least likely reason for targeting Bran. The second least likely option is that Bran's fall was not an accident. That he was pushed after learning, or potentially learning, of some plot, and that the assassin was sent to ensure he never awoke to tell of it."
"Why do you find that so unlikely?" Ned asked intently, undoubtedly concerned that I had ranked exactly what Catelyn and Littlefinger told him had happened so low.
"The incompetence of the assassin. Any person involved in a plot that was important enough to throw the Warden of the North's son from a tower in his father's own keep over would have access to a competent assassin, no matter where in the Seven Kingdoms they were at the time. You say your wife fought him off? I say any assassin hired to silence a witness of such import would have easily killed an unarmed, untrained, woman, and the sleeping defenceless boy. Even if they failed to escape the direwolf afterwards."
Ned swallowed as I hammered home just how unlikely it was that Catelyn would have been able to hold off an actual assassin. She had barely held off the homeless bandit Joffrey had actually hired when she'd had the benefit of being alerted by his muttering that she shouldn't be there. A professional would have slit her throat before she even knew they had entered the room, then delt with Bran before anyone could stop them, Summer included.
"The other two?" He asked worriedly.
"The second most likely scenario is that Bran did discover, or potentially discover, a plot, and was thrown from the tower because of it. But that the person who sent the assassin was not involved with it. Rather they know of it and want it stopped, but for a reason unknown to us they can't move against the plotters themselves. As they were unsure if Bran would ever awaken, of if he would remember anything even if he did, they used a deliberately clumsy attempt on Bran's life to draw your attention to the plot he discovered and be certain you investigated whatever happened. Whether Bran himself survived or not didn't matter to them, just that the attempt on his life was obviously exactly that."
Ned was now looking thoughtful, which was good as this scenario was as close as I would suggest to what had actually happened. It had not been Joffrey's intention to get them to investigate Bran's fall in more detail, the spoiled sadistic brat truly had wanted Bran dead as he looking to earn himself a pat on the head from an ableist father that ran his mouth too much in the presence of a genuine sadist. Petyr Baelish however, had run like Usain Bolt with the gift that had landed right in his lap when the attempt used his old dagger, and failed.
"And the last?"
"Someone really doesn't want you as Hand. They used Bran's fall, be it accident or assassination attempt, to make their own clumsy attempt look like the second attempt on his life by the same person. For this to work they'll have left a clue. An identifiable weapon, an identifiable form of payment, a fragment of orders. Something that ties the assassin to another great house of Westeros you're known to have a troubled relationship with, so that you'll retaliate against them. Then they'll retaliate against you, and if you don't end up killing each other and helpfully leaving your positions of power at court vacant, you'll both certainly be too busy with your little shadow war to stop whatever it is they're up to. Which they think you certainly would do if you were able to give your full attention to being Hand of the King."
Ned's eyes widened as I mentioned an identifiable weapon. Despite Catelyn's insistence on believing Littlefinger's assertion that the dagger was Tyrion's and that he was stupid enough to arm such an incompetent an assassin with it – it seemed Sansa wasn't the only one who still believed in childhood stories, though unlike her, Catelyn had no excuse – Ned was not so easily convinced. The battlefields of Roberts Rebellion had left him suspicious of enemy actions that were so convenient and neat.
"You've given me much to think about Lord Baratheon. I trust you will give me a day or two to consider your counsel?"
I managed to look offended that he had even asked that. "If I am to call you Ned, then you must call me Renly. And I would be disappointed if you didn't take time to consider it and discuss it with others in your confidence."
Ned gave me a genuine smile as he rose to see me to the door. "Your arrangement for Jon to squire with Ser Loras is a greater position than I thought possible for him Renly, though given his reputation for glory hunting I can't think how you managed to get Ser Loras to agree to it. Shall I send him to you or to Ser Loras tomorrow?"
I smiled in return, letting the insult to Loras go as I was so pleased at another piece of my growing plan falling into place. "Oh convincing Ser Loras was easy. I simply asked him."
The look on Ned's face was so funny I burst out laughing.
"Oh don't look so surprised Ned! Loras is my brother in all but blood. He will do anything I ask of him, just as I will do anything he asks of me. Just as you and Robert do for each other." It was cruel to twist the knife of the Crossroads Inn and tournament incidents, but I had to at least try to get Ned to realise he could not rely on Robert to back him up anymore. Cluing him in on Littlefinger's schemes meant nothing if he tried to fall back on a protection that wasn't there because Robert couldn't find the will to stand up to people if he wasn't allowed to hit them. Robert would stop him being beheaded or fired, but that was it. For anything else Ned was on his own.
"Speaking of which, send Jon to my household in the morning. Ser Loras and I often break our fasts together, along with our squires, it will be good to have an even number at the table again."
Ned nodded as we reached the door. I placed my hand on it, stopping him from opening it for a moment.
"If I may offer one final piece of counsel?" Ned looked slightly put upon, but nodded curiously.
"Have someone you trust absolutely take messages to Robb about what you've learned at regular intervals. I would suggest them booking passage on a ship to White Harbour and carrying a wineskin full of ink to drop the message into if they're accosted. You're playing the game of thrones now Lord Stark, in this game, what you don't know can get you killed just as easily as what you do. And as your father and brother found out, distance from Kings Landing is a poor defence."
I left Ned deep in thought as I descended through the Tower of the Hand.
I was busy thinking how Littlefinger was going to react to a Ned Stark that had at least a rudimentary understanding of shadow warfare, hopefully even successfully countering me and allaying his suspicions and manipulating him would demand enough of Littlefinger's attention that he would miss the mission my Stormlands Master of Coin and Master of Whispers should had left on this morning. At least until it was too late to matter.
In fact, it seemed that that might be a conservative hope and that I might actually have been able to prise Ned out of Littlefinger's grasp.
But that was the problem, despite having every reason to feel positive there was still the tightness in my gut. The nagging feeling that just would not go away. The feeling that that had gone a little too well.
Bonus skippable history/fantasy geeky bit – castles, garrison sizes, and household guard estimates for ASOIAF.
Following some messages about the numbers I'm using I thought some people would like to see my thought processes. This is not story material! Don't read it if you don't like numbers, history, and geeking out as you'll likely find it 'irrelevant filler'!
GRRM has regularly stated that he's not good with numbers. This is especially clear when dealing with his buildings. (He says he didn't quite realise how tall a 700ft wall would be for instance, before seeing it in the show.) So, I've tried to draw everything he says, combine it with what actual medieval records my research turned up, and come up with a somewhat cohesive average trendline so my numbers relate to each other in a sensible manner, rather than just being random.
The castles in ASOIAF are epically big, generally being equivalent so some of the largest castles in various countries and around the world. The largest, (Harrenhall) and second largest, (Winterfell) are unmatched by any real castle.
We know for certain that by the end of A Dance with Dragons that King Tommen has hundreds of Lannister guardsmen in the Red Keep for his protection – Keven Lannister thinks of them and specifically notes their numbers as 'hundreds' as he has his dying conversation with Varys.
So why do I think there are 400 Royal guards in the Red Keep in peacetime too? And that the Lannisters have matched them? And Renly can bring so many? Read on!
King Edward I assigned a 'large' 350-man garrison to Edinburgh Castle when he took it in his campaign against the Scots, that gives you a marker for the wartime size of garrison required by Edinburgh and Caernarfon Castles in the ASOIAF period as about 300. These are the largest in Scotland and Wales respectively.
The smallest seat of a lord paramount – Riverrun, is said to need 200 or so men to garrison it for 'most circumstances'. Given that, I would ballpark it as smaller than Edinburgh and Caernarfon Castles, but larger than Conwy Castle which is the next rank down. Conwy had a peacetime garrison of 30, but as it was smaller than Riverrun, it wasn't a prominent centre of power in Wales like Riverrun was to the Riverlands, it wasn't host to such a prominent family as the Tullys, and the family it did host were at court and weren't in permanent residence, I'd double that and give Riverrun a peacetime garrison requirement of 60 men-at-arms.
But a household guard doesn't stop there. It has to be able to garrison the castle and guard the family if they leave.
Given that Renly is attended by about 30 guards in Kings Landing, Loras by 20, Catelyn almost doesn't make it to the Eyrie despite having about 10 guards, and that the relief party that rescues her consists of twoscore (40) knights and men-at-arms, men that don't seem to drain the garrisons of either the Bloody Gate or the Eyrie, we can see that a guard of 10 is barely adequate for peaceful trips and 20 is likely to be more common. Especially for high-ranking families like the lords paramount. I'd call Tyrion only having 2 guards as Tywin basically hoping he gets killed so he can get rid of him without being branded a kinslayer and judging the political fallout of having to drop a hammer on some minor house somewhere worth it.
So the Arryn's have 40 men-at-arms to travel along the notoriously dangerous Highroad without touching their castle garrisons. They likely have more than this as the leader of the rescuers, Ser Donnel, talks about wanting to take 100 men-at-arms into the mountains as a response for the attack on Catelyn, though he says Lysa will never permit the deployment of so much strength.
This puts the Arryn household guard at well over 100, as even if it did mean drawing down the Eryie and Bloody Gate garrisons, which Lysa forbids, Ser Donnel would never have considered totally stripping them.
But we were discussing the Tully household guard, so lets conservatively add the 40 men at arms that we see the Arryns deploy to escort one person and say that, due to the safer nature of the Riverlands, that would serve as an escort force for any members of the Tully family that needed to go anywhere.
The Tully household guard now stands at a conservative estimate of 100 strong.
Then there are the feudal administrators such as tax collectors, messengers, etc… that are entitled to travel under Tully guard. Throw in another 20 or so guards to allow you to escort them.
Now we're up to 120
Finally, it has to be born in mind that in the medieval era most smallfolk had mandatory military service as part of their obligations to their lord, during which they would often be cycled through the household guard to gain experience so they would be vaguely useful when the levies were called. In England for instance, which had an archer-based army, all men and boys were required to practice their archery on the village green every Sunday. This meant they built up the muscles required to use the longbow, so they could use them from day one when called to war.
It's likely that this was done in ASOIAF too, given that the reserve host at Oxcross is the only time we hear of a host being unready to fight due to lack of training. Additionally, this would also cover you against a need to sally out against bandits or make a show of force against a bannerman that was getting uppity without having to wait around and call up additional forces, so it makes sense in terms of flexibility of available forces too.
Just consider for a moment, that we see House Frey can deploy '1,000 knights and 3,000 foot'. I think what was actually meant was 1,000 mounted men-at-arms (cavalry/horse) and 3,000 foot men-at-arms and peasant levies, as knights are shown either owning land or as being a permanent part of a household guard, with the minority as hedge knights – No way the Freys can afford 1,000 knights even in wartime.
But regardless of that, these troops are shown as ready to deploy as soon as House Frey calls the banners, the same as the forces that Tywin Lannister brought east and Robb Stark brought south, they didn't spend months training like the reserve force at Oxcross was shown to.
That meant they had to be trained already, and the only way you could really accomplish that was for everyone with a holdfast, from the lords paramount to the landed knights, to increase their household guard size to more than they need, then cycle the smallfolk through as training, so that when you called the banners, at least half, hopefully more, of the force you assembled from everyone's household guards and levied smallfolk was trained and ready to go, and those that were trained could teach the untrained portion on the march.
So, add 80 trainees and you've got a conservative Tully household guard estimate of 200.
Then remember that the Tullys are the weakest of the lords paramount due to their tenuous hold on the fractious Riverlands.
Stannis says to Ser Davos he was assigned 500 men-at-arms as a garrison for Storm's End in Roberts Rebellion. Go with the same ratio of war to peacetime garrisons as we just did with the Tullys and you have a Baratheon household guard creeping up towards 300 – 350, including the ones Renly has in Kings Landing. Renly expanding it to a full 500 wartime garrison as soon as he reaches Storm's End is expensive, even more so when he expands it to 700 total, by taking 200 back to Kings Landing and telling Ser Cortnay to replace them. But it isn't ruinous, his treasury can bare such a cost for years, even if every year will be noticeably net negative financially. It's not like he's called the banners from the lands directly under his control – that would be ruinous and totally unsustainable in peacetime for a lot of reasons.
The Arryns likely have a few more household guard numbers compared to the Baratheons as they have to travel in force whenever they travel the high road, and man the three gates as well as the Eyrie even if the Eyrie itself requires a smaller garrison than Storm's End. Call it 350 - 400
Casterly Rock is larger, by volume it probably steals Winterfell's second place spot, but most of it is inside a mountain which dramatically reduces the garrison requirements as the surface defences are smaller than Highgarden. But the Lannisters like to show off how rich they are and travel with more guards than anyone else. Call it 500 or so, excluding Kings Landing, mainly for prestige purposes. In addition, the thousands of men in the Lannisport city guard are the best trained city guard in the Seven Kingdoms and are only half a day's ride away. Another large pool of men to cycle trainees through and a customer base to keep armourers and swordsmiths in business and producing better quality arms and armour for the Lannister men than any other house can field.
Highgarden is larger than the surface part of Casterly Rock and the Tyrells have both more family members to guard and more smallfolk to train into guards. So call it call it 600 - 800 or so, as the second wealthiest house they can certainly afford it. The thousands in Oldtown's city watch don't count as they're ten days away even at forced march speeds and owe allegiance to House Hightower before House Tyrell.
Sunspear is the closest thing that Dorne has to a city, but it has no city watch. So as the Martell household guard has to pull double duty, call it 800 – 1000 or so. Of the 5 Westerosi cities, Oldtown and Lannisport both say they require thousands – plural – for their city watch while Kings landing requires 4,000 and Gulltown and White Harbour aren't mentioned. So 1,000 seems like a decent upper estimate if the Martell guards have to defend the castle and the closest thing Dorne has to a city.
The Red Keep is bigger than any of these. The great hall/throne room keep can house 1,000 people for a feast and also contains administrative locations such as the small council chamber, library, and bureaucrats for the Masters of the Council. The small hall in the tower of the hand can host 200 for a feast, in just a single tower of the dam thing, then you realise it as 7 major towers. Then you have all the minor towers, the cornerforts, Magor's Holdfast – the 'massive' castle within a castle, the maiden vault, the kitchen keep, the royal sept, the granaries, the stables, the kitchens, linin washrooms, quarters for all the servants as lords are noted as living in the kitchen keep, which means servants can't be, several internal courtyards, one of three goldcloak garrisons, and a godswood. All of this has to fit in a castle smaller than Winterfell – which is why I rank it as 3rd largest in the realm despite the footprint on the Kings landing map, as that footprint is way to small to hold everything we are told is inside its walls.
Harrenhall and Winterfell are the only castles larger than the Red Keep given Casterly Rock's small surface footprint. By taking Riverrun's wartime garrison and noting the fact that Riverrun is 'a tenth the size of Harrenhall'. It can be assumed Harrenhall needs around 2,000 men to garrison it properly in war.
With Winterfell as an intermediate step between Harrenhall and the Red Keep, I'd have to call it as requiring a wartime garrison of 1,600 – which seems about right as it seems to be severely undermanned for wartime while Robb is in the south. When Rodrik Cassel leads out 600 men to reclaim Torrhen's Square from the Ironborn, they are referred to as the 'better part of the Winterfell garrison' and Theon is able to capture the 'defenceless Winterfell' with only 30 men. Rodrik is joined by 300 men from Castle Cerwyn's garrison, if the Cerwyn's had committed to war, as they are said to, then Rodrik should have had far more men to hand than just double Castle Cerwyn's garrison. Given that Winterfell is likely around seven times larger, since each of its six internal wards and its internal castle are the each the size of normal castles, and Castle Cerwyn isn't noted as being particularly remarkable. Winterfell must have been critically undermanned for wartime.
Interesting side note – the sheer size of Winterfell would make the Stark Household guard the largest in the Seven Kingdoms in peacetime, unless they were prepared to basically effectively abandon the outer walls and six outer wards of the absolute monster that is Winterfell, defending only the gatehouses and the inner castle that surrounds the great keep until they called the banners. Not something I see the dutiful Starks doing. This is pretty much confirmed by Rickard Stark coming south with 200 household guards without calling the banners when the King summons him, not counting any already captured with Brandon, or those that have remained behind to guard Winterfell and Benjen. Given that Brandon is in a madman's dungeon, Lyanna is missing, and Ned is in the Vale, you'd better believe that Rickard left a good number of household guards to defend Benjen.
Why did Ned come south with only 50 guards when he must have had hundreds ready if he cared at all about defending Winterfell and had the same numbers as his father? – He trusted his friend. And that trust had dire consequences.
To get a better idea of the size of the true Winterfell that we are told about in the books, rather than the tiny run of the mill castle they show us in the show, where – unforgivably – it's smaller than Casterly Rock's surface footprint or Highgarden instead of dwarfing them both like it should, check out shadiversity's 'The True WINTERFELL according to the books' on youtube.
He makes a mistake saying Riverrun and Casterly Rock are bigger, they aren't, only Harrenhall is, but otherwise, it's a truly epic video for understanding the difference between show Winterfell and book Winterfell. Suffice to say, you can actually physically fit 100,000 soldiers on Winterfell's walls going by the descriptions in the books, which is an insane size! And makes the garrison requirements of both it and the larger Harrenhall make more sense.
So, given the Red Keeps size I don't see it requiring a wartime garrison of less than 1,200. Now the gold cloaks will provide some of that, but they generally only have 4,000 men to guard both the Red Keep and the largest city in Westeros which crams 500,000 people inside its walls and has 7 gatehouses. They can't afford to have over a quarter of their strength locked in the keep given the size of the defences they have to cover.
Plus, as king, would you give your security over entirely to the city watch? When it's controlled by your Master of Laws and paid by your Master of Coin? I wouldn't. So, what's one third of 1,200? 400 – and that's the size I've made the Royal household guard in Kings Landing. With 800 gold cloaks making up the difference they can still be considered as 'making up the majority of the Red Keep's defenders' as is required by the books, and any other houses household guards present during an attack can be sent out of the Red Keep to man the city walls to help provide defence while preventing treachery.
With 400 of your own household guard on hand it would likely be enough to stop the 1/3 of the Goldcloaks quatered in the Red Keep barracks from being used to carry out a coup as happened in Rome with the Praetorian Guard. Combined with the other lord's household guards present it would likely be enough to hold the Red Keep despite all those Goldcloaks already being inside its walls. And if the situation had really gone to shit it would be a strong enough garrison to at least secure Maegor's Holdfast (the 'massive' castle within a castle that forms the royal family's last bastion of defence) and hold it against being taken by storm.
Limiting the maximum a lord paramount can bring to court to half the Royal household guard seems sensible, I also went with that number as it was the number Rickard Stark came south with. When being summoned by someone called 'the Mad King' while they have your son in a dungeon, I think he'd have gone with the maximum number permitted.
Cersei's belief that the Lannisters are the true Royal family would lead her to ignore the rules. Just look at the dual royal banner she insists on, she'd use a full lion one if she could get away with it, and Tywin would easily pay for it – the whole reason why the Westlands army is so dangerous is it has been drilled a lot harder and is equipped a lot better than any other. Meaning he must have paid more smallfolk to train for a longer time than any other lord paramount to get his army so deadly, likely he cycled them through the Lannsiport City watch which numbers in the thousands as well as his household guard. An extra 400 is nothing to him.
Jon Arryn was shown to be ineffective at thwarting the growing Lannister power and influence as Robert got older and less willing to listen to him, so it can be assumed he objected and was overruled.
Wow – This got out of control. But at least you know my logic train for the numbers now!
Best Wishes – Knight Vigilant Koren