The Black Trout, Whispering Woods
Brynden Tully had always been a soldier. His brother, Hoster Tully, as the firstborn, had been prepared to one day rule the Riverlands from Swiftwater. He would ride to the court of various castles, write letters and keep order in his country. Brynden was different, "the black fish of the Tullys" he had been called by his brother since their fateful quarrel. Brynden Tully needed the chaos, he wouldn't get married and sit in any castle, never. It's been many years since he first dyed his sword red in the War of the Ninepenny kings. It was during this time and during Robert's rebellion that Brynden realized he was destined for the soldier's life. He fought against the Ninepenny Kings for Westeros, against the Targaryens for justice, as a Knight of the Gate he protected the Tullys, and now he fought for what he loved most, the Riverlands.
Robb Stark had placed three thousand and five hundred horsemen under the command of Brynden Tully, and three thousand and two hundred were now waiting for their first battle of the war, some of the knights may be even waiting for the first ever battle, some of them were awaiting death.
After the wedding on the twins, they had set off for the south, together with the afternoon sun. They had moved south through dense forests and rushing streams, hoping that no one would foresee their coming. Brynden led the scouts personally, temporary giving command to Robett Glover. At the head of his Men, Brynden rushed ahead and led the force through the woods, invisible to the watchful eye of Jaime Lannister. He ist probably sitting in a tent right now, impatiently waiting for his siege engines to be completed.
"That's his big weak point," he had told the lords under his command. "We can't defeat them in open combat, but if we manage to lure the Kingslayer away, we have a chance to attack his camp directly." Brynden pointed to the map he and Glover had drawn. "There we will attack them, three hundred men, no more and no less. The Kingslayer lacks too much patience to miss out on such a prey while sitting in his tent. He has already ridden out with his knights three times to hunt down looters or storm a recalcitrant fortress. Robett Glover is leading the attack on their supply." Robett Glover leaned further forward to get a better view of the map. "Where should I take them as soon as they pursue me?" Again, Brynden pointed his finger at the map. "There, you will just ride further into the valley, as soon as you hear the signals to attack, turn around again and join the fight." He turned to Maege Mormont, a bulky woman who prefers to wield a spiked club instead of memorizing poems. "As soon as the last horseman of the regicide crosses this little brook you blow the horn to attack." The woman laughed. "Ha! They won't see it coming until it's too late for even the last of them."
And now the hour had come for which they had waited so long, the Strategy he and his Grandnephew developed would either work, or the war would be lost in the very first battle. Men in steel armor slept on trees or conversed in whispers, while their horses, hidden behind bushes, occasionally snorted. Almost every man in his army had a bow nearby, and a quiver with arrows. Even the knights would shoot one or two arrows before they thrust into battle with lance and sword, hammer or Mace. Brynden planned to fight too, he wore heavy plate armor made of black steel, his cloak was held together by a black trout of gold and obsidian, the same fish that decoratet his Close Helmet, which he held under his arm.
His warhorse, also armored in black steel, stood tied to a tree next to his niece, Catelyn. Togheter they stood next to a stream on a small hill, surrounded by trees and darkness. "Are you worried?" asked Brynden. "Not about this battle, I have full confidence in you and the gods that we will leave the battlefield victorious on this day, but..." Catelyn sighed. „… What about Robb, what about my son? A boy of just fifteen, how is such a man supposed to stand up to military commanders like Tywin or Kevan Lannister? Against knights like the mountain? I'm worried about him." Brynden put his steel clad hand on her shoulder. "I haven't known your son for long, but he seemed to me to have a lot of his father. He'll know what he's doing."
But boys his age are usually impatient and hot-headed. If he dares too much, and Tywin takes away his opportunity to retreat, forcing the Boy to lose half his men, it would be a short war. But the young Stark had given the impression of someone who didnt take a risk for fame or the like, even though his battle plan against Tywin might still be bold. "Let's hope you're right, uncle."
Shortly afterwards, the few noises around him died away. "They're coming." The men whispered to each other. Knights mounted their warhorses and prepared their bows. Brynden Tully nodded to his niece and did the same. Through the leaves he saw the passing knights. The moonlight was reflected on their armor and for a moment Brynden thought he recognized his reflection in the red helmet of one of the knights. The most conspicuous was without a doubt the Kingslayer, in his golden armor and without a helmet he rode past them, enabling Brynden to get a look at him for a split second.
Brynden put on his own helmet, and he became the blackfish again. The tension was clearly felt throughout the forest, the blackfish could only hope,that the Lannisters cannot feel it. Then the horn sounded, a deep and sad sound breaking the silence of this beautyful full moon night, announcing that the last knight was trapped. Other horns answered, and the air was filled with the melody of war. No sooner had the sounds died away than swarms of arrows flew through the air. Once, twice, three times, the arrows flew, killing people and horses at the same time. The air was now filled with the sweet sound of the enemy's cries of pain, a music of triumph. So far, however, they were still far from a triumph.
Hastily the Blackfish shot his own arrows and took the purple and black striped lance from his niece before he spurred his horse. Once again, a swarm of arrows flew over him as he stormed down the hill, hundreds of knights following him. A panicked group was waiting in front of them, all of their order has been lost in the hail of arrows. The blackfish saw men desperately fighting their way out from under their dead steeds, horses trying to throw off their dead owners, the enemy's knights desperately trying to understand the situation...Brynden saw fear, even with the armor hiding their eyes. The volley of arrows killed horses and men alike, those wounded by the first volleys died in the fire, horses fell and men cried. Although the enemy's armored horsemen would take only a few losses, the fire was enough to deprive them of the ability to form a cohesve line, and if an arrow did manage to find a gap between the plates, then the knight wouldnt be dead, but he would not be able to fight anymore.
Not too far away, the blackfish spotted the riders of the Freys and Glovers. From all sides they rammed into the broken formation of the Lannisters. As a man would embrace his beloved, Blackfish's riders had encircled the host Lannister knights. And now they hacked their way through the men.
The blackfish drove his lance between the arm and chest of one of these knights. The chain mail shattered as it collided with the tip of the lance and the knight let out a scream as he was lifted out of the saddle by the force of the thrust and managed to get a hold on his fellow knight, only to pull this one from his Saddle too.
The blackfish drew his sword, positioned his horse and duelled with the next knight, trusting his men to protect his unguarded left side. The enemy knight wielded a war hammer and a shield, and although a well placed hit from the hammer on his head wouldnt kill him, it could be enough to at least leave the blackfish stunned for a few seconds, and a few seconds in a duel meant certain death. The Knight tried exactly this, but using his greater reach, aming for the knights armor gaps, blackfish forced his opponent to defend his eye slit. A vital second in which the knight couldnt look showed itself, and blackfish closed the distance. Now it was too late for the knight to hit first, and blackfish locked his blade against the incomming hammer, now in the range to use his off hand for a grapple. Blackfish grabbed the wrist of the knight and used his Blade to hook onto his opponents neck and pull him out of the saddle and on the neck of blackfishs horse. Blackfish ripped the hammer from his shocked opponents hand, drew his dagger and drove it through his eye slit and into his skull and brain.
While his dead foe slowly slid off the armored horse, Blackfish saw himself confronted with another man to his left. He repositioned his Horse to be in a good position agains another potential attacker, and prepared to fend off the knights strike. His foe was obviously never before in a battle, having his Horse standing not oblique to the enemy, like blackfish, but sideways, and his first strike comming from far away, far too high, allowing the Blackfish to just lift his sword, blocking the strike, and then thrusting with one hand on the blade. Right into the little gap at the ellbow. The knight cried out in pain, dropped his mace, and immidietly surrendered by dismounting and crawling to the safety of the stark lines.
"To me, gather yourselves!" Blackfish cried out, and turned his horse while a third knight struck at him. As soon as the blackfish and his first wave of riders were disengaged, the reserve fired more volleys into the iron lump, while another fresh wave of armored Horsemen struck the Lannisters with their lances. Lances met steel, swords met bone, arrows met flesh and chains, and the ranks of knights that had just been found back to order collapsed again into a disorderly mob. As soon as the fighting horsemen had to mourn the first losses, they withdrew, and the men of the blackfish attacked again with fresh lances and new reserves to fill the ranks of the fallen.
As the night progressed, they would retreat and attack three more times, each time encountering weaker resistance. When the Blackfish received the lance for the third attack from a squire, he already received the news that the Lannisters had given up on Maegen Mormont and Wyllis Manderly, the rest of them were dead or would soon be, due to their wounds. One last time, the blackfish spurred his warhorse and rode back into battle with his lance lowered. As he lifted a young knight from the saddle with his lance, the blackfish caught a glimpse of Jaimie Lannister, who was fighting two of Glovers riders further north of him.
"STARK! Where are you!? Come out! Do you hear Me?! STARK! Come out and DIE!" Good thing Lord Robb isnt here. Was all Brynden could think of while watching the Kingslayer decapitated one of the Glover men.
While the blackfish watched the man in the golden armor, a lannister took the chance and almost overpowered the blackfish. The knight struck his sword to the side and landed a hit on his ellbow, where knight found a weak point. The blackfish didnt feel the Blade, but he knew it had cut him. It wasnt deep enough to really injure him, but it did slow him down, and when the knight grabbed him the blackfish fell rom his horse.. At the last moment, when the knight and his horse towered over him, sword in his Hands, a lance hit the knight in the head and he was thrown unconscious from the saddle. The blackfish straightened up, blood flowing from the slight wound on his Ellbow, and marched to the dead knight, his dagger drawn. Then he stopped. In front of him, the fight had almost stopped, and only individual swords collided. Blackfish put bag his dagger and turned to his saviour. "This one is yours, lad."
After finding his horse again, he looked around the battlefield. Hundreds of corpses of horses and people lay scattered on the ground, their faces hidden behind iron visors. Only about one in ten of them was one of their own men. Brynden pushed up his visor and rode to the assembled lords twenty paces away from him. To the right and left of him, knights were tied up and taken away as prisoners. In front of the lords also sat a knight, in golden armor and with golden hair. The sunrise made the armor shine more in the red of the Lannisters, as Brynden noticed.
"Who caught the Kingslayer?" Brynden asked the men. "He surrendered after we surrounded him. He killed six of our men and wounded three more." The Kingslayer looked magnificent even in defeat, his hair still looked like it had been spun from pure gold, despite the dirt, his face was flawless. "Take him to Lady Catelyn." Brynden ordered the men and watched with a smile as the Kingslayer was taken away. "We can end this here and now, you against me, you choose the weapons," the Kingslayer said as he was dragged away. "You fight for the Tullys, I fight for the Lannisters, thousands of lives can be spared." "Thousands of your lives will be spared, but many more of my people will die if you win, Kingslayer. I am not a fool, i wouldnt be able to beat you, even if it wasnt for this scratch." "You are a wise man, Ser." The Kingslayer added.
Brynden spurred the horse and trotted up the hill to his niece. Arriving in front of her, he took off his helmet and brushed back his now gray hair with the gauntlet. "They didn't suspect it, a great victory and an important step to break the siege of Riverrun." Catelyn quickly noticed the wound on his arm. "You're hurt, uncle. The blood..." "It's not a bad injury, but before I go into battle next time, remind me to practice a little with the sword beforehand." He dropped his arm again, and turned his horse to face the Kingslayer. "But for today, that should be enough for now."
Jaimie Lannister was rudely thrown at Catelyn's feet. Then he raised his dirty face and looked around. "Lady Stark, I almost hoped to see your son here. I looked for him on the battlefield, to cut him open, of course, but he didn't seem to be interested... Where is he?" Catelyn looked at the prisoner with cold eyes. "My son's whereabouts are none of your business." The Kingslayer giggled, and looked around again. "He's not here at all, is he? Is this the way the Starks wage their wars? They send their wives and mothers, along with old men, to fight for them. I'm starting to believe that Lord Stark wouldn't have gone into the field against us even with his leg intact..."
Galbart Glover punched him in the face. "You have no right to speak of Lord Stark like that, Kingslayer." Lannister spat blood, but he was still grinning. He's tough, you have to give him that
. "My son, is not here because he is going to war against your High Father, a Stark of Winterfell has no need to hide behind his lords and ladies. Get him out of my sight!" "Maybe he should hide instead, we both know that my father will disembowel the boy. Then he will take away you, and your husband and daughters, before he marches to Winterfell, and hangs the bodies of your sons at the gates, you have my word on that, my lady." Brynden didn't see it anymore, but he heard the crash when Galbart Glover's fist broke the Kingslayer's nose.
"I pray that his word is of as little value as all his other lies." Catelyn said, there were tears in her eyes. "Robb won't be defeated so easily, I know it." Brynden turned his gaze to the battlefield. "Every one of these men here has sworn to protect him. You've begged him to have his own bodyguard, thirty Highborne warriors are protecting him, and he's got the wolf. Nothing will happen to him." And if something does happen, then we have a bigger problem than we can imagine. They could still free up Riverrun, Brynden had no doubts about that. But without their leader, the Norsemen would most likely either returen home or rush in against Lord Tywin and get killed. Lord Stark was still in a cell, but he wouldn't live long if Robb was killed and his army smashed. Then the River Lords would once again standalone against the power of Casterly Rock. Let's rather hope he knows what he's doing. He cannot hope for a victory, but a well-ordered retreat would be enough.