Blood and Winter
Chapter XII
Just under twenty thousand men.
That's how many soldiers Bronn had counted since his arrival here on Dragonstone. Their escape from Kings Landing hadn't been easy, but they had succeeded. If it hadn't been for the timely warning of Varys and his aid with setting up a rowing boat and then a merchant ship a little way out, they would have been killed or taken prisoner. Bronn imagined that it would be the former from himself.
He supposed, however, that things had worked out well for him in a way. Ser Bronn of the Blackwater, that's the name he had gained after his actions in the defence of Kings Landing against Stannis Baratheon.
When working for Tyrion, Bronn had been able to enjoy the comforts of being friends with a dwarf from a rich family. He was in command of eight hundred men and captain of Tyrion's personal guard. Considering the riches he received in turn, it was quite an illustrious position and one Bronn had enjoyed. Then the Battle of Kings Landing arrived and with it, a Knighthood. But in return, a lot of his responsibilities were taken from him and in turn, all the rewards he received along with it.
But it seemed things were finally looking up for him once more, though getting here hadn't been easy.
Their journey upon the merchant ship had been tense, fraught with worry that they might be discovered. Yet they escaped the waters surrounding Kings Landing, sailing up Blackwater Bay and through the Gullet. The Targaryen fleet was behind him and now they had an open ocean with which they could set sail for Essos and far away from Westeros as possible. Only to sail straight towards Dragonstone where three Dragons flew in the air and the signal of House Targaryen was displayed proudly.
They had escaped Kings Landing and the Targaryens, only to end up in their grasp anyway. Bronn was just thankful that he didn't suffer the fate of Tyrion. The imp was a Lannister by birth, the family that was responsible for the sacking of Kings Landing and the brutal fates of Elia Martell and her daughter and son.
He had been dragged away in chains, put away in a cell where from what Bronn had heard the young Queen, Daenerys Targaryen intended to let him rot. Podrick, ever the fool didn't know how to keep his mouth shut and had been dragged away as well.
Bronn on the other hand, he knew how to keep his mouth shut and also how to make the best of a bad situation. Bending the knee and pledging fealty to the Mother of Dragons hadn't been difficult, just one look at the Dragons made that choice very simple. The question was, what was he going to do now?
He was a member of her Queensguard, directly under the supervision of the mad bastard, Belwas the Strong. And now, they were making plans to conquer Westeros. Bronn didn't really know how this would go.
Did they have Dragons? Sure, but Bronn had seen the skeletons beneath the Red Palace. The Dragons Daenerys possessed were still small and young in comparison. Perhaps if she had full grown Dragons then Bronn would feel a little more confident, but he didn't. However, he liked living and it was looking like this was the only way to stay alive in this world, either that or running to Essos.
But as a large, beefy arm wrapped around his neck, dragging him down the corridor, Bronn knew that would be easier said than done. "Strong Belwas has come to bring you to the little queen. Come."
Not even attempting to struggle out of the grasp, that would only make Belwas keep a tighter grip, Bronn instead allowed himself to be practically carried to the war room. The doors opened, two Unsullied standing guard and holding the doors open as he and Belwas entered inside.
It was only then that Bronn was released and he could properly breathe once more. Around the room, various individuals stood waiting, their frames tense and eyes narrowed in caution.
There was, of course, the Dragon Queen herself, sat at the head of the table in thick furs that did little to detract from her beauty. To be entirely honest, if Bronn didn't think he'd be killed in attempting it, he'd try and sleep with her.
There was Ser Barristan Selmy, Lord Commander of the Queensguard and Hand of the Queen.
There was Grey Worm, Commander of the Unsullied and his second in command, Hero.
Tal Torag, Captain of the Stalwart Shields. Symon Stripeback, Captain the Freed Men. Marselen, Captain of the Mother's Men. All of these companies being formed from former slaves that had been freed by Daenerys, each staunchly loyal to the Dragon Queen.
There was Rommo, a Jaqqa Rhan, something Bronn had been told by Belwas meant that he collected heads. How much of that was the truth, Bronn had no clue because Belwas wasn't exactly the most literate or intelligent of beings. Not that you could expect much from a guy who was raised in the fighting pits and someone who purposefully let people cut him before killing them. Who did that?
And finally, there was Ben Plumm, Commander of the Sellsword company, the Second Sons.
All in all, Bronn would say it was a strange gathering of people, hardly a war council similar to anything Bronn had seen before. And according to Belwas, there was another guy back in Mereen, some guy called Dario Naharis, Commander of the Stormcrows who was overseeing the ruling of Mereen in Daenerys absence.
"Welcome, Ser Bronn." Daenerys greeted amicably. "Forgive Belwas for his manhandling of you, he was told to treat you fairly." It was kind, but there was a subtle undertone that told him he would have to do as she asked. Not that Bronn would refuse, Belwas was a scary bastard and one that he had no intention of getting on the bad side of.
"It's alright." He replied. "Can I ask why I've been asked here? You ain't exactly been welcoming or trusting of me, so I fail to see what you need me for?"
"We would like a more in-depth understanding of what the situation is like here in Westeros. Which Lords are loyal to which King, their numbers, and other details." Ser Barristan requested.
Bronn looked around the room in disbelief. "You're telling me you have no clue what's going on in Westeros?" Ben Plumm muttered something in Valyrian or some other language that Bronn couldn't understand. He didn't need to though, he could tell just from his posture that it wasn't a good thing.
"We are aware of the war taking place." Daenerys continued. "However, we would like a report from someone who has been here in Westeros while it has been taking place. Hopefully providing more information than what we already have at hand. It would make our next move much easier."
Bronn shrugged his shoulders. "Ain't got much to tell you besides the obvious. You got a horde of a hundred thousand Wildlings marching south to the Wall. Stannis is camped there with thirty thousand men or somat around that number. The Bolton's and Greyjoy's have less than ten thousand men each and are stuck. The North is divided and in the south, well Robb Starks all but won. He has the largest army and the most resources to field such a large force. Plus he's got the best commanders plus himself to lead them all."
"That's it?" Barristan asked as a young slave girl recounted his words to those incapable of speaking the Westeros tongue.
"What more do you need?" Bronn shot back. "I've looked at your force and sure, you've got maybe around twenty thousand men at most. But the Dornish and the Golden Company, they have near thirty thousand plus those large creatures of those. But even if you allied with them you would still be outnumbered two to one."
There was some harshly spoken words by one of the Dothraki Bloodriders, Jhogo if Bronn wasn't mistaken. "We have Dragons." Words that were translated by the dark-skinned girl.
"Yeah, Dragons that haven't grown fully. I've seen the skulls under the Red Palace, believe me, what you have ain't anywhere big enough to get you victory. If I can see that then you can be damn well sure that someone in the Golden Company or the Young Wolf will as well." Bronn retorted. "Look, I think you misjudged your arrival by a tiny bit. If you'd arrived a few weeks ago, you could have got involved in the battle between Robb Stark and Tywin Lannister, taken 'em both out in one go. But you didn't."
"So what do you suggest then?" Daenerys questioned and Bronn released a breath.
"You've got one of the smartest men in the world looked away in your dungeon. Use him." Bronn said simply. "He's an ugly fucker, simple as that. But you won't find a smarter man in Westeros or Essos than him. It was because of him that Kings Landing was able to stall Stannis long enough for Tywin Lannister to arrive. Don't know about you, but I'd say that letting him rot in a cell would actually be helping your enemies."
Tapping his foot anxiously against the ground, Jon looked over the map of the North. His brow furrowed as it had been for many hours, there was a few empty bowls stacked to his right, an empty cup tipped over and a half-full jug of ale resting at the far end of the table.
Accommodations in Mormont Keep were small and cramped, there were tens of thousands of people scattered all over the island home of House Mormont. All those still alive that were west of the Northern Mountains.
Food was becoming scarce as well and while they had boats sailing out to collect fish, there wasn't enough being caught to feed all the hungry mouths. They needed to do something and fast. 'But we can't do anything.' Jon thought angrily, frustration prevalent upon his face as he collapsed back into his chair.
Castle Cerwyn had been taken by Lord Bracken a few weeks ago and while Lord Vance had managed to retake Flint's Finger, that was the extent of their counterattack upon the Ironborn. They themselves were hunkered down in Torrhen's Square and had secured Barrowtown as well. Ensuring they had access out into the Saltspear and then out to the Blazewater Bay. As for the Bolton's, well they had were hunkered down in both the Dreadfort and also in Winterfell, unable to move without leaving themselves exposed.
The biggest threat was Stannis Baratheon, Sam had managed to send a few ravens detailing what the Baratheon King was doing. For now, he was remaining where he was, trying and failing to open negotiations with Mance Ryder, the two men unwilling and unable to find common ground. In the meantime though, the troops he had were training extensively.
Though on the upside, a great deal of trouble was brewing between the Brothers of the Night's Watch and the forces of Stannis Baratheon. Not only were the Baratheon troops eating their food and taking up a vast majority of room within Castle Black.
'Some good news at least.' Taking a deep breath, Jon rose from his chair and strolled out of the room. Just a nice gentle stroll to clear his head so he could hopefully come up with a way to rectify their situation. 'The Ironborn possess over five thousand men, the Boltons a similar size. We possess just over three thousand men. Mors Umber has five thousand. Ideally, I'd like to push in, retake the Wolfswood and Deepwood Motte so my men can hunt. But I don't possess the numbers to do so.'
"Jon!" Looking up, he saw his squire, Ryon Forrester rushing towards him. "I think the Old Gods have answered our prayers."
Confused, Jon followed Ryon down to the open courtyard where he looked to see a dozen Wildlings entering, led by a beautiful blonde-haired woman who attracted the gaze of many men, Jon himself included. 'How did they?' He questioned, quickly brushing it off and walking to greet them. "Welcome, Free Folk of the North. May I ask, how you managed to do this."
"Your friend, Owen Norrey helped us." The woman explained. "He remains at the coast, seeing to the ships that had ferried across me and a few hundred Free Folk to help you."
"You?" Jon asked unsurely.
The woman nodded. "We, the Free Folk while not bending the knee, recognise House Stark and King Robb Stark as our new ruler. Mance Ryder sends me in his place while he keeps Stannis Baratheon at the Wall."
Jon could breathe a sigh of relief at that moment, instead settled for a small smile. "May I know your name?"
"Val." The woman responded.
The Great Hall was tense, lords and ladies shifting uncomfortably upon their seats as they waited anxiously to see how the King would respond to the news they had just been given. Randyll Tarly as of two days ago had taken Casterly Rock and now the entirety of the Westerlands had bent the knee to the Young Wolf.
It had great news for a multitude of reasons, but most importantly they now had twenty thousand men ready to be deployed, all waiting for the King's instruction. Their meeting had been about finalising their plans going forwards, the distribution of troops in the various campaigns. Should they march south in full force, take Kings Landing and route the combined Dornish and Golden Company host? Or should they wait, bide their time and open negotiations while sending Randyll Tarly to the North and aid the war effort there?
Opinions had been split and while remaining silent, Robb had listened to every suggestion put forth. The Vale and even Edward had been adamant about marching North and Robb could understand why. Every day he had to remind himself that Bran, Rickon and Catelyn were there, their whereabouts unknown.
It took everything he had not to order a march North in order to find them. To reunite his family once more, but just as this war had grown beyond his expectations, so had the responsibilities placed upon him.
He'd heard the rumours, the questions as to whether he cared for his family. Everyone could see the distance and aloofness Robb showed towards his father. There was an anger there that everyone was aware of but no one brought up in front of either man. Many questioned why but it was a matter both Robb and Ned understood.
Both men cared for their family, Robb had gone to war to save his family, later going to war to avenge the deaths of his father and sisters. Ned's survival and subsequent arrival was a shock and had overwhelmed Robb. So he had used the one emotion that had fuelled him throughout the war, rage. As wrong as it was to blame everything upon his father, Robb did and Ned in turn took it all upon himself because he understood Robb's irrational anger and above all else, loved his son.
They were united in their cause, but separated by their emotions.
That was something no one understood and they whispered about. Questioned whether Robb was just another power-hungry King who would sacrifice his family in order for more power. They never said as such to his face, but Robb had heard all the rumours. Garlan, Smalljon, Marq and many others told him them.
But he did nothing, let them talk he cared little for their words. All he cared about was ending this war and saving what remained of his family. He didn't need others to understand him, they were but stepping stones upon his path to save his family.
Yet as they debated about their next move, Olyvar had entered, bringing with him news that had silenced them all. News none had expected and now they waited, gazes looking towards Robb who remained silent as he reclined lazily upon his chair. His face gave nothing away as he looked out towards the young Frey.
"Is that everything, Olyvar?" He asked and the young man in question flushed when Robb looked pointedly towards the letter in his grasp. The initial news he had told had shocked him enough that he forgets entirely about the letter he had come to deliver in the first place.
Moving around the table, Olyvar handed Robb the letter and bowed his head in apology. Robb dismissed it with a wave of his hand, turning to the letter with a frown. All in the room were left shocked when they saw the symbol emblazoned upon the wax before Robb broke the seal.
A Dragon.
'So the rumours are true. The Targaryens have returned.' Ned bemoaned, frown deepening as his leg ached at the name.
For a few moments, Robb silently read through the letter before handing it back towards Olyvar. "It seems, we have not one, but two enemies to deal with. Two factions of Targaryens. One that has taken Kings Landing, Aegon Targaryen. Under him the Dornish and Golden Company. Another at Dragonstone, possessing three living Dragons and under the command of Queen Daenerys Targaryen." Those words alone caused the throne room to erupt into chaos. Some outright refusing to believe the truth while others panicked.
"Silence!" Smalljon roared. "Have ye no pride or sense?! How dare ye interrupt the King!"
And just as Smalljon finished and wanted, silence filed the Great Hall once more. "I share your thoughts and your fears. We know the power Dragons possess, we have been told stories of what the Targaryens accomplished with them. But they are but beasts and just like every beast, we know they can be killed. The Dance of Dragons proved that."
Murmuring filled the room, Lords and Ladies looking to one another, Robb rising to his feet. "Here in this new kingdom, stands the greatest minds in Westeros. We know Dragons can be killed, but we also know their power. The Targaryen came to Westeros with the same guile and stance as Aegon the Conqueror, they want to bring about a new Targaryen dynasty. But we can do something our ancestors, our forefathers never could, we can defeat the Targaryens and their Dragons. We can rewrite history!"
There was a cheer that sprung about from those words and Robb smiled.
Beside him, Ned looked upon his son as if seeing him for the first time. And despite the situation, Ned couldn't help but smile. This was the Young Wolf. This was Robb Stark. This was his son and Ned had never been more proud of him than he was at that moment.
As the lords slowly trickled out of the room, Robb remained seated, looking upon the letter silently. Around the room, only Ned Stark remained having dismissed both Gendry and Harold away so that he could remain with his son. Both were sat in silence, neither saying anything to break the silence. Ned himself looked upon his son and not for the first time, marvelled at how much his son had grown.
A man not even older than his second decade, yet bearing a burden of Kingship and doing so well. The Lord and ladies, they listened to him, whether out of respect or fear, it didn't matter. In fact, Ned would wager that it was a healthy mix of the two. Some spoke of him as the second coming of Aegon the Conqueror, some as Tristifer IV Mudd. Others as Theon "Hungry Wolf" Stark, or Cregan Stark, the Old Man of the North reborn.
Robb's achievements and his young age made his legend grow. Ned cared little for that, he was proud of his son's achievements, but above all that, he was just happy that his son was alive and well. He held scars from his battles, his frame was tense and his face looked weary from long hours of planning and sleepless nights. Yet he remained firm as he fought and planned for a future just beyond the horizon.
His frame was bulkier than he remembered, always possessing a stocky build but one that seemed bigger than before. His red-brown hair was long now, a thick beard framing his face, but his bright blue eyes stood out amongst them.
His leather tunic, thick fur cloak and sword at his hip made him look like a Warrior King. One that Ned was almost reminded of when he had once looked upon Robert during Robert's Rebellion. But Robert had always been brash and hotheaded, never growing out of that mentality as the war progressed, yet Robb, he didn't seem the same. Even now he was calm, collected and Ned could see his mind working to figure out what to do.
Ned then looked down to Grey Wind, the beast has grown immensely from the small pup he remembered. Patches of his fur were worn, some areas of his skin bare and possessing scars much like Robb. Both man and beast were battles worn yet remained strong and fearsome figures.
Yet as if sensing his gaze, Grey Wind looked up and reflexively, Ned reached out with one hand. The Direwolf paused, sniffing the fingers before leaning into the hand allowing Ned to stroke its fur.
"Do you believe the Targaryens intend to negotiate or is this just a ploy?" Robb asked after a moment and Ned looked up to see his son watching the proceedings.
"What do you believe?" Ned replied.
Robb placed the letter back upon the table. "I would like to believe it. I never had any intention of becoming King in the North, nor the Riverlands or anywhere else for that matter. However, I have accepted that duty because if I do not, this war will continue and more blood shall be shed." Ned nodded in agreement. "But in turn, I am aware of how risky it is to allow the Targaryens to still remain in Westeros, especially if Queen Daenerys does possess Dragons as she proclaims."
"I believe we should meet with them all the same," Ned said and Robb hummed in agreement. "This war has gone on long enough. Negotiations will help us secure the south so we can return to the North."
"Aye, you're right about that." Robb paused before nodding his head with a sigh. "I'll agree to this meeting, but I will still be marching my army south towards Kings Landing. I want to be prepared should these negotiations break down. In the meantime, I'll wait until Randall Tarly returns to the Riverlands. With him we'll have a force of over a hundred thousand, that should give us the impact necessary to turn negotiations in our favour."
"What do you intend to give them? From what you said, the two Targaryen forces are not working together and most of Westeros has declared for you." Ned probed curiously.
"Nothing," Robb answered simply. "The Stormlands, Dorne and what remains of the Crownlands are theirs for the taking. Let them fight for it amongst themselves. However, the North, Vale, Riverlands, Reach and the Westerlands as well as many of the Crown Lords have declared for me. They are now my people and I will defend them nor will I dishonour their loyalty by trading them like paltry pieces on a board."
Ned hesitated, face twisting as he both understood yet couldn't understand why. "Is that wise?" Ned questioned and Robb looked at him. "I understand your duty, Robb. But if these Targaryens, Daenerys and Aegon came to claim Westeros, they will not like what little they have. The North alone is larger than the rest of Westeros combined. The Westerlands is rich in gold, the Riverlands are rich in trade and the Reach is rich in food. They will not allow those to go without a fight."
"They don't have a choice!" Robb snapped, more out of tiredness and frustration than actual anger. "I will not trade my people like paltry gifts, they deserve better than that for all they have given to our cause. I have a force of over a hundred thousand men at my command. They have less than that, even if they combine forces. Not to mention their Dragons are young. We bent the knee to the Targaryens and look what happened, rebellions and wars between them ravaged Westeros for centuries. Madness is a curse that runs through their blood, how long until another Mad King arises?"
Ned remained silent, listening calmly to Robb's venting.
"Have you forgotten what happened to our family at the hands of the last Mad King?" That got a reaction, both Ned and Robb going still. "I apologise, I am just stressed."
Ned didn't snap, he didn't get angry, he just remained calm. "I have not forgotten what happened to my sister, nor my brother or father. And I understand where you are coming from, I truly do. I am just afraid of what could happen if you refuse them everything they ask. Perhaps offer them the Crowlands and the Iron Islands at most."
"I, I see the sense in that. But it all depends on how much they ask, even that might not satisfy them."
"If not, then negotiations will dissolve and war will begin." Ned placed one hand upon his son's shoulder. "Then we rewrite history, just as you said." Robb nodded his head, shoulders loosening lightly as he fully relaxed back into his chair.
"I'd like you to return to Riverrun, oversee the search for Petyr Baelish through the Riverlands with Tytos Blackwood," Robb muttered, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "No doubt Garlan has sent riders to scour the eastern coast and sent ravens to Lord Tarly in order to search for Baelish. But I'd like you to secure a proper search."
"How many men will we have?" Ned asked. "There are five thousand men in the Riverlands currently."
"They'll remain there," Robb responded. "However, you'll be taking ten thousand men from my host to search. In the meantime, I'll have Olyvar compile a note of all the suggestions and contributions brought forth by the lords on how to deal with the Targaryens and their Dragons. That should give us a starting point on who to look at first as a potential traitor."
"You purposefully turned their attention away from Littlefinger?" Ned questioned, piecing together what Robb meant and had done. "You focused all their attention upon the Dragons so they would come up with ways to win."
"And those that bring little to the table will be the ones we look at first. Not only as potential Targaryen loyalists but also as traitors who helped Baelish escaped. I'd like you to focus upon the Vale lords, I'd like you to provide Willas and Olenna with similar information as well. They'll look at the Riverlands and Reach Lord respectively."
"What of the Crownland and Westerland lords?"
"They have nothing to offer nor pose much of a threat. They know that so I am confident that should they be revealed as traitors they won't be able to cause much trouble. However, our main priority is the Reach and Riverlands for potential Targaryen loyalists. The Vale as potential Baelish sympathisers."
"Hmm." Ned nodded his head. "I'll speak with Lord Royce, one of the main problems we faced in gathering support in the Vale was the fact that many were in debt, something Baelish used to his advantage."
"Keep it quiet and the number of people in this investigation minimal. The fewer people know about it the better. People will still raise questions, but at this point in time, as far as anyone is aware, we have too much to handle to focus upon potential traitors and spies." In war there would always be such people amongst your compatriots, the chances of finding them, especially amongst a number as large as were gathered under the Young Wolf's reign was small.
Plus with the pressure from the Targaryens, attention would be focused upon them. Then it would be focused upon the situation in the North. As far as many would be concerned, there was simply too much going on to find them.
Or at least, that was what Robb wanted people to think. He'd been around people like Garlan, Margaery and people more politically able than he that he'd learnt more than few tricks. If he was to be King, he couldn't just be a warrior and a general. He couldn't just move from one battle to the next, he needed to think long term.
No matter what it took, no matter how much it cost Robb would win so that his family would never be torn apart again. Twice now it happened, first in Robert's Rebellion and now here, in the War of Five Kings. But never again, House Stark had bent the knee and it had cost them greatly.
Now it was their turn to rule just as the ancient Kings of Winter had.
Casterly Rock had fallen.
The once believed to be unconquerable fortress of House Lannisters had finally been defeated and the man to do it was Lord Randyll Tarly of Horn Hill. Casterly Rock had been taken, the banner of House Stark proudly displayed above the city and with it, the Westerlands were well and truly conquered.
Tywin Lannisters defeat at the Battle of the Bloody Antlers had been the end of the Lannister power and influence. But the fall of Casterly Rock was the last symbol of Lannister power, one that was now defeated,
Already those lords that had remained loyal to the Lannisters were talking terms of surrender, even Lord Marbrand. The war in the Westerlands was finished, House Stark and its new dynasty had won. But even that victory was short-lived because the war didn't seem any closer to being finished, especially with the arrival of the Targaryens once more.
'At least they seem divided instead of allied.' Randyll thought to himself as he strode through the corridors of the Antlers. He was impressed with the boy King, man now he supposed considering this war had been waging for nearly three years now. Three years in which Robb Stark had proven himself time and time again as a capable commander, a great one even. Randyll had no doubts that the boy would go down in the history books.
Both as the Young Wolf and now, as the Wolf King. A new title that Robb Stark had been gifted by the men who served him and his enemies.
'A fitting title. Much better and more dignified than the Young Wolf.' Randyll had never really been all that interested in monikers such as those, it was beneath him to care. At the same time, he also recognised how useful such titles could be if used correctly. Olenna and the Tyrell's had done excellently at spreading and amplifying the legend of the Young Wolf. 'No doubt they are also the ones who made sure to change it to the Wolf King as well.'
Pushing open the door to an office, Randyll entered to find Robb talking with Garlan, Marq Piper, Yohn Royce and Brynden Blackfish. Behind him, Brienne closed the door allowing the lords privacy.
"Your grace." Randyll greeted with a bow.
Robb smiled, a rare sight. "Lord Tarly, please rise." He replied. "You do not need to bow to me with the news you bring me. Casterly Rock taken, the Westerlands conquered and now, twenty thousand men ready to be deployed elsewhere."
"I simply did as I was ordered," Randyll said simply, rising to his full height as he took note of a few additional figures in the room, those he didn't quite recognise. "Unfortunately though I cannot bring more good news. Petyr Baelish did not come west therefore still eludes us."
"Expected as much." Brynden gruffly stated. "He's more than likely heading back to the Vale or trying to escape east and go to Essos."
"Still, we had to make sure," Garlan responded. "Is my brother, Loras with you?"
Randyll nodded his head. "He is."
"Your grace?" Robb waved his hand, dismissing Garlan who smiled in thanks, heading to see his brother who he had not seen in so long. So much had changed and he hadn't seen his family in so long, the last time was before the Battle of the Bloody Antlers, but his father and brother, Loras had not been amongst them. And despite that only being a short time away, it felt like a long time ago.
Randyll meanwhile moved forwards, looking up the map with a slight frown. The blonde-haired boy, Harold beside Yohn Royce had already moved the pieces that would have denoted his army towards the Antlers, joining with a large number of pieces already there.
They had two forces in the south left to deal with, one at Dragonstone and another at Kings Landing. Neither would be easy to defeat, especially if it required them to besiege those cities. In fact, Randyll Tarly would like to avoid even attempting to besiege those cities simply because of how difficult and bloody they would become.
"May I ask, what is our next move considering the Targaryen forces," Randyll asked.
"Negotiation if possible," Robb replied with a slight frown. "But even if negotiations fail and war breaks out, I will count it as a success if I at least make it so neither Daenerys nor Aegon become allies."
"Considering that news has been spread of Aegon marrying Arianna Martell, that at least removes the option of marriage from the table." Lord Piper stated though all were aware that the Targaryens weren't unused to having multiple brides, Aegon could very well do the same.
"It won't be possible to appease everyone," Yohn noted. "Both Aegon and Daenerys came here intending to conquer all of Westeros. That makes you the biggest enemy to them both with you ruling nearly all of Westeros, especially its largest and most prosperous regions. An alliance forged between the two would only be natural so ensuring that doesn't happen will be a difficult task. But if we succeed in doing so, perhaps it would be best to focus on appeasing Daenerys Targaryen. With her Dragons, she poses the biggest threat."
"But we can't ignore the Golden Company." The Harold who had moved backed to his position beside Yohn spoke up. "They have proven to be the most capable and dangerous fighting force in Westeros. Two hundred of their men held off nearly fifteen hundred men alone with no real commander to lead them. Not to mention they have those strange creatures of theirs."
Robb listened to them all, looking upon Randyll who was doing the same as him. "What is your suggestion, Lord Tarly?" He eventually asked, hoping to gain some incite upon the most mysterious man in the room. A man that Robb had heard many claims to be one of the few people in Westeros capable of actually rivalling him as a commander. Some even said that his experience in the wars he had been in made him better than Robb. It was something that Robb was interested in finding out for himself.
"What Yohn Royce says is true," Randyll murmured. "Allying ourselves with Daenerys Targaryen is the best choice to make. It simply depends on what she would be willing to take and how much you are willing to give in turn. As for Aegon Targaryen, while we do possess the largest army and Daenerys her Dragons, we cannot dismiss the Golden Company. They are the strongest force in all of Westeros and perhaps Essos. They possess more fighting experience than any army we could muster. But overall, Daenerys should be our main focus."
'The Dragons are the biggest threats.' Robb correctly summarised Randyll's intentions. As big a threat as the Golden Company was, the Dragons were an even greater source of concern. "So what do you believe our main course of action should be?"
Robb had his own ideas as did his advisors. He would negotiate with the Targaryen rulers, ensuring neither would ally against him and hopefully getting Daenerys to ally with him. In the meantime, his army would continue the march south towards Kings Landing stopping just south of Hayford. Thus putting pressure upon Aegon during the negotiations
"Delay the negotiations, stall for time while the army marches south," Randyll stated. "Make a show of it, let them be fully aware that while these negotiations are going on, you are still waging a war and they are your enemies. Make it clear that you will not bow and are prepared to crush them."
"A show of strength?" It was rhetorical, both men knew it and Robb felt a smirk come across his face as he looked upon the Lord of Horn Hill. "Lord Tarly," rising to his feet Robb felt a shift come across the room as all men stood straighter. "While I negotiate with the Targaryens rulers, I want you to lead the force of sixty thousand men and link up with Mace Tyrell and his force of forty thousand to a point south of Hayford. Take your time, make it a…leisurely stroll and make it public. I want everyone in Westeros to be watching the march of our army with bated breath."
It may not seem like much, but everyone here knew the importance of such a role. Of what burden and responsibilities would be placed upon the shoulders of the man in charge. They also knew of the glory and rewards which would be bestowed upon the commander of such a force.
Randyll knew it too and there was a slight upturn of his lips and as he bowed, all noticed that it was deeper than before, much deeper. "I will not fail you, your grace."
Sighing tiredly, a common act for him in recent days, Robb strode down along the battlements of the Antlers. Behind him, members of his personal guard followed at a distance. It was one of the few moments he had gained in which he was able to actually leave his chambers or the war room, constantly beset by information and decisions that required his attention.
Being King was tiring.
'No wonder Robert became what he was.' Robb thought to himself, coming to a stop for a moment as he overlooked the army gathered outside. A field of silver, as soldiers lined up in their formations, preparing to march south stretching out as far as the eye could see.
A sight that had at one point in time filled him with awe and a healthy amount of fear. It was only natural to feel fear when looking upon an army that one commanded and considering how young he had been, that fear had been amplified. But now, he felt nothing as he looked upon it. Commanding men, leading armies, it was common for him now, it felt normal. The crushing weight that had pressed down upon him was there, stronger than ever, the responsibilities he held only increasing as the war continued. But now he no longer felt sick, no longer felt restless and helpless.
Everything about his life now that had once been so strange to him in the beginning, was now normal. This was his life now and Robb as much as he did not want to admit it was used to it. He had adapted and Robb knew that he could never go back to how he once was, the world and his life could never return to what it once was.
For a moment he allowed that to rest in his mind before turning away from the sight, dismissing the saddening thought. There, in the courtyard sat the lords and ladies who would lead this army, and at the front of them, Lord Randyll Tarly.
Each of them had watched him and the moment he turned they bowed their heads. A show of respect, of subservience. But they waited, expecting words as all did from their Lord when setting out for war. Some great speech to rouse their spirits, to affirm their minds and focus them purely upon the task before them.
Yet Robb did not give a speech.
He gave a simple order.
"There is only victory!" He proclaimed boldly and despite the simplicity and shortness of his words, they had a profound effect upon them all. Robb gave no options, he gave no loopholes, he gave them only one route to follow. Victory and nothing else. No defeat, no retreat, no death.
Only victory remained for them at this point.
And as Randyll rose, the other lords and ladies under his command doing the same, Robb locked gazes with him. There was but a minuscule inclination of his head, an acknowledgement of the order before Randyll urged his horse on.
Turning back, Robb watched a shift come over the army as they watched the gate open. A large shift, as they too turned to face the south, Randyll and the lords marching up through the centre and eventually out of sight. Then a horn blasted, flags were raised and the army began to move.
'Randyll will do his part.' Robb knew that much. 'Now I must do mine.'
As Robb went to turn, he squinted slightly as he felt the light bare down upon his eyes. Trying to figure out where it came from, Robb's gaze eventually landed upon the clean and immaculate armour of Harold Hardyng. The sunlight reflecting off it and almost blinding him momentarily.
'I just hope that doesn't go for the rest of the Vale Knights. They will be key to our victory if none of the Targaryens surrender. If they end up blinding one another victory will be impossible.' But as Robb thought upon that, an idea began to form. "Blind."
"Yer grace?" Smalljon questioned, all of having heard Robb mutter something but not completely certain of what.
"Prepare a rider to be dispatched for Randyll Tarly!" Pushing his way past his personal guard, Robb urgently made his way towards his chambers.
"Robb, what's happening?" Garlan asked.
"I've found a way to fight the Dragons."
Worry.
That was something she was beginning to grow tired of feeling and all because of the war going on. She knew of course that her brothers were skilled, she knew of course that her husband was also skilled. Mayhap's not as great a swordsman as Loras or Garlan, but his mind was sharped than theirs combined. He was, after all, one of the best if not the best military commander currently alive in Westeros.
He had for three years been waging war against the Lannisters and had won. But now, just when things seemed to be reaching an end, the Targaryens returned. Thirty thousand under the command of Aegon Targaryen. Ten thousand of which belonged to the Golden Company, one of the most skilled and dangerous fighting forces in the known world. Not to mention the remaining twenty thousand belonged to the Dornish, a force that one should never underestimate.
Then there were twenty thousand camped at Dragonstone under the command of Daenerys Targaryen who also possessed Dragons.
Dragons!
It was no wonder that Margaery and the Maesters feared for a miscarriage considering the amount of stress she was going through. She loved her brothers and while she would not be premature or foolish to say she loved Robb, or that he loved her, she did care for him. They were friends at the very least and she did not want to see him die either.
But the odds seemed to be stacked against him once more.
"They'll be okay." Beside her, the growing beauty that was Sansa Stark said quietly, but her voice was confident and firm. "My father and Robb, they'll win." Margaery couldn't help but wonder as to what made Sansa so confident in them. She knew of the exploits of both Ned and Robb.
Margaery had been beside Robb for a long time now, had seen his mind at work and tended to his wounds after battle. She knew the strength Robb possessed. Just as she knew of Robb's strength, she also knew of Ned Stark's skill and exploits, but only through stories.
Against Aegon and against armies of any size, Margaery would not worry. But against Dragons, she couldn't help but wonder if this was the end. The Field of Fire and its impact upon the future of Westeros was still felt even to this day. After all, it was as many said, the moment in which Aegon had won.
Certainly, after that moment he did face problems, but no one challenged him openly, no one with real power anyway.
"I hope so," Margaery murmured, hands resting upon her stomach where she could feel hers and Robb's child kicking. Despite being fraught with worry, the feeling of it brought a gentle smile to her face.
Up ahead, Willas rounded the corner looking particularly haggard, his gaze sweeping up and down the corridors as armed guards rushed past him. "Dear sister, lady Sansa," Willas said, his gaze landing upon them. "Have you seen Arya?"
"Arya? Why? What's happened?" Margaery asked.
"She's gone."
So here we are, another chapter done. Bronn is now serving Daenerys Targaryen who has arrived at Dragonstone. He has also petitioned for her to use Tyrion, something she reluctantly does. Meanwhile, Robb begins making his plans while also dealing with traitors amongst his army, traitors that helped Baelish escape. Jon has an unexpected guest in the form of Val as the Wildlings place their support behind House Stark in order to save themselves. Lord Tarly is now marching with the full force of the Stark army south to Kings Landing in order to put pressure upon Aegon during the negotiations and on top of all that, Arya has gone missing from Riverrun.
Now let's get on with the questions:
Marnold15265: Glad you've enjoyed it so far, and you're right, the Targaryens attacking Kings Landing is an ironic form of justice. However, as we've seen this chapter, there are two factions of Targaryens. Those that serve Aegon and those that serve Daenerys.
Yamajiji: Well as we can see this chapter, the Dornish have married Arianna to Aegon and now intend to secure the Iron Throne. First through diplomacy and if that fails, war. Same with Robb and Daenerys. As for your story it's a pretty interesting concept, I just can't get into it. D&D kind of ruined Jon for me with the whole 'she's my Queen' rubbish so I find it hard to read Jon fics. Still a very interesting and cool concept, definitely something you should expand upon further.
Black' Victor Cachat: Thank you very much, I claim no ownership on it though, it's not mine. Couldn't find the original creator of it, but it's not mine. And yep, the Golden Company intended to work with Tywin to defeat Robb and weaken the Lannisters in turn, then at the end of the battle turn on them and take out the Lannisters as well. But as we can seem that plan failed miserably. And yeah, Robb is angry at a lot of things and he's still a young kid, a mature one? Yes, but still young and he's just lashing out due to the stressful situation. That's something Ned recognises.
The Y rider: Thank you for that, but I like to think the Northerners are pretty lax about this stuff and have slightly rubbed off on the other lords. As for what's happening between Ned and Robb, well I don't mean to sound like an asshole but did you read the chapter properly? Again, I don't mean to sound like an asshole but I'm pretty confused as to why you've misunderstood and missed the very stuff that explain why its happening.
So I'll repeat myself. Ned first of all did say that he was proud of Robb, he didn't vocalise it but was more of a thought, but I did show Ned being proud. Second of all, when Robb and Ned meet for the first time, when Robb starts listing off questions, they are rhetorical that show exactly why Robb was angry. And even more so, he now knows why Ned couldn't be there and that leaves him angry with no way to direct it. I'd also suggest reading the AN I gave at the end as that specifically explained why Robb was angry as well.
There is no division in House Stark like you believe, do you not have arguments and disagreements with your dad? Do you not get angry at him? There's a lot of misconception in stories that if one character gets angry at another then that means they hate each other and become enemies. That isn't the case, in real life friends and family will have disagreements and will get angry with one another. So there is no division in House Stark. Hopefully that clears up any confusion.
Guest: I won't spoil anything about the North just yet. A lot of the focus will be on the south for a while because the North has reached a standstill where nothing is happening. So we won't know what's happened to Theon or Catelyn for a while now.
AnthonyR89: I'm guessing you've read the most recent chapters as that should explain why the Martell joined with the Lannisters. As for Tywin, you're right he is at most a competent commander, but one thing prevalent in ASOIAF is how rumours are weaponised. The Lannisters spread the rumour and enhanced the rumour of Tywin being the best commander in Westeros as to increase Lannister influence. Like Sun Tzu said, appear weak when you are strong and strong when you are weak.
With the Lannister army incredibly well-trained and well-armoured, plus the illusion of Tywin being a skilled tactician, it's something not many people would want to face. It's meant to inspire fear which is how the Lannisters operated. As for how the war started, no singular person is the main cause, it's a bunch of people that caused it.
