Chapter 38: Summon The Battle
Barristan took a deep breath. The Northern Air was different to King's Landing. Cleaner, less dirty, and he was finding it difficult to breathe properly. It was strange really. One would've thought that the cleaner air would've made it easier for him, but no. It seemed his system was rebelling at this.
He took another deep breath, then when the herald announced him, he straightened his shoulders and entered the tent. The first thing he noticed when he entered was that the King and Queen were seated at the far end, the King wore armour, no crown atop his head however. The Queen was dressed in the gold and black of her house.
Barristan bowed. "Your Graces."
He knew he looked a state, his armour was somewhere else, the only thing he had that showed he was a Knight of the Kingsguard was his white cloak. That he had hastily fixed onto his person before he had stepped foot into the Royal Camp.
"Ser Barristan." The Queen said. "Welcome to Moat Cailin. Please, rise."
Barristan did as he was bid. He got a brief look at the Queen. Her hair was blonde, and her eyes were green, but the way she held herself reminded him of her father. Not the King Robert of latter days, but the King Robert fresh from the Trident. Fresh from victory. This was a person he wanted to fight for. He lowered his eyes again.
"How was your journey?" The Queen asked. "What happened in King's Landing?"
Barristan took a moment. That the Queen was asking him these questions suggested that the King wanted to show his bannermen that it was her claim they were pushing. That was something that would need to change as they moved south. The Northmen would respect him for doing that because he was a Stark, but when they got to the South, his name would mean nothing. Only his ability, not hers, would matter.
"I met with Lord Eddard shortly after His Grace King Robert's passing. We both agreed that in order to ensure that the succession went as His Grace had willed it, we needed to act quickly. Lord Eddard had said he would bring his men and that I would need to rally the Kingsguard." Barristan said. He paused as he remembered how that had gone.
"I failed. The Kingsguard has been corrupted beyond belief. They sided with the ones paying them. Baelish and Queen Cersei. Needless to say, when things came to it we were lined up against the odds. I killed Ser Boros Blount and badly wounded Ser Meryn Trant, but then stopped when I saw that Lord Eddard had a knife pressed to his throat. Petyr Baelish was the one handling the knife."
"Baelish was holding the knife?" Barristan looked up and saw that the King was looking at him intently, as was the Queen.
"Yes, Your Grace. Baelish it seems had only agreed to support Lord Eddard because of Lady Stark." Barristan replied.
Something flashed across the King's face then, whether it was anger or annoyance, Barristan wasn't sure, but it passed quickly.
"What happened then, Ser Barristan?" The Queen asked.
"I was kept in a room, a narrow room. Meals were given to me but nothing else. I thought for the longest time that I might be executed. Instead, one day a figure came and helped me escape. He told me that Lord Eddard had insisted that he help me. I got onto a ship that was called The White Merman. I arrived in White Harbour a few days' ago and rode straight for here." Barristan finished.
"And why have you come?" The King asked, his tone cold.
Barristan knelt before the King and Queen. "I have come to fulfil my promise to King Robert. I have come because you are the rightful rulers of the Seven Kingdoms. I have come to pledge my allegiance."
A beat passed and then another, then the King spoke. "Arise, Ser Barristan, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard."
Barristan rose and took a sword someone handed him before moving to take his place to the right of the King, he nodded to Ser Arys who was stood on the other side next to the Queen.
The Twins loomed large and imposing. At least that was the impression that old goat Walder Frey wanted people to believe. But really, Myrcella knew from speaking with her Great Aunt Gemma, that the Twins was collapsing. Walder Frey preferred spending his money on keeping his progeny from killing one another than on rebuilding the castle. That's why as they'd ridden south, she'd told Robb that he should have trebuchets ready.
If something went wrong with what she was planning, he'd need to use them. Nobody would mourn the destruction of the Twins or the deaths of all those ferret looking people that called themselves Freys. No one.
The man who was ahorse in front of them was Ser Stevron Frey, heir to the Crossing. He was about the same age as grandfather, maybe older. He looked exhausted.
"Lord and Lady Stark, may I ask, what your business is here?" Ser Stevron asked.
"We have to fight for our right to the throne." Robb said, Myrcella smiled, it was good to hear him referring to it as their right. Not just hers. "King Robert named us as his heirs, and we have come to ensure that justice is done. As part of that we intend to march on Riverrun and ensure that Ser Jaime knows the truth. We therefore ask for Lord Walder's blessing to cross over."
A moment passed and then another, and then Ser Stevron replied. "My Lord Father would be delighted to welcome you to the Twins. But he would ask that only one of you enter, as his age has made him prefer to speak with one person at a time."
Myrcella knew that was a lie. Walder Frey wanted to play a game. She shared a look with Robb, who nodded. They had spoken about this before. "I will go with you." Myrcella said. Let Walder Frey think he was getting an easier time of it.
Ser Stevron looked surprised, but only for a moment. His expression neutralised and he said. "Please follow me." With that he turned his horse around and made for the Twins. Myrcella looked at Robb and whispered.
"I'll get us that crossing."
"If not, I'll make sure you get out, and then I'll reduce the Twins." Robb replied.
Myrcella smiled and then urged her horse on to follow Ser Stevron.
They rode in silence, Myrcella thinking over the possible lines that Walder Frey would use. He was an old bat who hated women-he'd apparently killed his last two wives himself for them talking back to him-so, she knew he'd not take her seriously. But he'd also remember who her grandfather was and who she was. She'd make sure of it.
They entered the Twins and the Great Hall, where what seemed a veritable army of Freys were present. At their centre, on a grand chair, but looking like a shrivelled up baby was the half blind Walder Frey.
"Who have you brought me, Stevron?" The man asked.
"Lady Myrcella Stark, father." Stevron replied.
"A woman, eh? Is the boy too scared to talk to me?" Walder demanded.
Myrcella smiled. "Not scared no, but we share a familial relationship, Lord Walder through my aunt and we felt it would be best if I ventured to speak with you, given how much you value family."
"Pah, your aunt is a whore." Walder said. "She's made a cuckhold of my son."
Myrcella let that pass and waited.
"Well, what do you want?" The old man demanded.
"As I am sure you know, my father, King Robert has died. However, before he died, he named myself and my husband as his heirs. He wanted us to take the throne, not my brother Joffrey. We are therefore coming south to ensure that his will is met. Furthermore, we have come to ensure that my uncle Ser Jaime is made aware of this and that Riverrun is freed from possible siege." Myrcella said.
"Your father named you and your husband his heirs, did he?" Walder asked. "Do you have proof of this?"
Myrcella pulled out the document that Jon had given Robb all those days ago and handed it to Ser Stevron, who read it out to his father and his family. He then finished by saying. "It has the King's seal on it."
"So?" Walder asked. "Your brother sits on the Iron Throne in King's Landing. Your uncle lays siege to Riverrun and your grandfather is laying waste to the Riverlands. One thinks you have lost this war already. So, why should I let you pass?"
Myrcella pretended to look shocked, really, she wasn't. She had suspected the old man would play this game. Instead, she said. "Because it is in your interest to."
"My interest?" Walder said sounding surprised. "How so?"
"There is an army of 12,000 northmen outside your walls. They want to head south. One way or another they will find a way to come south." Myrcella said. "Yes, you can say that you hold the Crossing and can bleed the northmen. But we both know that that's not what will happen."
The old man's eyes widened. "And what will happen, girl?"
Myrcella smiled sweetly. "Your walls are falling down. It would not take much for the army to destroy them completely. Then, all that would need to be done is for you to be slain. Your family will fall into chaos, and as that chaos occurs, the army would march south. Or maybe, as the walls are attacked your offspring would turn on you. Either way, your family would fall."
That got people murmuring. "You seem awfully confident of that, girl." Walder said.
"There is another option. You let us go peacefully, with no demands. And we let you live and allow your family to survive." Myrcella said. "And when we sit the throne, we will remember."
"You seem awfully confident that you can do this." Walder said.
Myrcella widened her smile. "Because at this moment, my husband is waiting. Depending on the answer I give him, either one can happen. And I know what you say about northmen, Lord Walder. My husband is all that and more."
A moment passed and then another and then Walder Frey spoke. "You may pass, and my sons will lead our men in support of your efforts….Your Grace."
Jaime smelled fear. Whether that was from his men or from someone else he didn't know. But he smelt it, and he wanted to remove it. Fear had no place on a battlefield. One could feel fear beforehand, but once you were in the fray, you had to put all sorts of emotions behind you.
One had to be calm and emotionless. Anything else would hurt you. Jaime had learned that the hard way. Both during the Greyjoy Rebellion and now. First had been the war on Riverrun. Albeit, both he and his father had fallen for someone else's game. Jaime had his suspicions-Varys and Littlefinger foremost amongst them-but he had sent a raven to his father the moment he'd finished that conversation with Edmure. He'd as of yet not heard anything back.
He'd been meaning to send another raven, but he'd had a scout report claiming a massive northern army was advancing on his position. No doubt this was the Stark boy. Either come to relieve Riverrun or to seek justice for his father. That news had come as a shock to him. Eddard Stark attempting a coup. Robert naming Myrcella as his heir before his death.
Truth be told, Jaime wasn't against Myrcella becoming Queen. Joffrey was not someone one wanted with power. Nor was Cersei, truth be told. Cersei had made Joffrey and that was not a good thing. Still, he had to fight now, until his father said otherwise. Stark had sent someone south to raid and harry Jaime's lines.
And it was to handle that that he'd left the camp. He'd taken most of his men with him but had left half of them under the command of Ser Lyle and Uncle Stafford. The rest were with him and they were preparing for action. He smelt fear again and frowned.
A horn sounded and that made him perk up. The enemy was here! Finally, Jaime drew his sword as a roar sounded somewhere. Figures came charging at him. His sword took control. Moving one way and then another. One man fell, then another. A third man pushed him, and Jaime eventually managed to bring him down.
He moved forward, and the enemy came pouring out of the woods. Jaime ducked one blow and landed one on the foe. He smashed into the presence of time. Someone was hammering at him, but he was able to resist. Others kept coming though. They were relentless.
Slowly but surely, he managed to advance. He and his men were carving a path through and into the woods. It wasn't perfect but it was something. They were dripping with sweat, Jaime wanted to breathe, but breathing wasn't an option when the fight was for your life. He turned a tide and saw his sword dripping red.
Jaime's focus was brought back to the field when more northmen started appearing. He barked out orders and his men fought hard. He himself turned one way and then another, desperately trying to keep afloat.
But there were just too many men. He started seeing his friends fall, his guards fall, and his men were falling in greater numbers than were possible. Desperation started to sink in. He needed to do something otherwise all was lost. He urged his horse forward, swinging wildly.
He got further and further into the fray and saw someone who looked important. He bellowed out a challenge and charged. Men got in his way, and he swung at them dismissively. He got closer and closer, and then his horse fell, and a blackness engulfed him.