It is somewhat inaccurate to think of an army as a collection of men. A council is a collection of men. A guild is a collection of men. But a council can adjourn for dinner and a guild can vote on a course of action. An army is a work horse. It has no choice – it works or it gets whipped. Whip it hard enough and you can get that horse to go until it drops. But then all you've got is a whip and a dead horse. Tywin Lannister damn near broke his army trying to reach an enemy that was out of reach from the start. Heart of gold or not, that's a shit bargain to make.
The generals and nobles ride at the front of their armies so they don't have to see the sick and starving and wounded that fall behind. The men with dirty bandages and too-bright eyes who collapse into the ditches and can't get up again. The men who go to sleep and never wake up. But mostly the men who peel off their armor, throw away their weapons, and simply fade away into the woods and fields. You find who your brothers are on a hard march like this. Its not the men who fight shoulder to shoulder with you, its the ones who carry your stretcher over leagues of bad road, the ones who give you the last swallows of water in their skin and the last scraps of bread in their bag. Your brothers will cheat you at cards, charm away your woman, and steal your wine, but they'll never leave you for dead.
We were back at the ruby ford. Lord Lannister and his nobles had been shut up in the inn all day while their army licked its wounds. The Company curled up in its camp and slept like an old dog in the sun. Apart from the sentries it could have been a camp of corpses. I lasted until near evening. Call it curiosity – the curse that afflicts every Annalist. I dragged myself out to see what was stirring in the Lannister camp. Anyone important was in or around the inn. No chance there, the guards turned me away like a beggar from the door. I wandered down to the river. There was a thin trickle of traffic across the ford, mostly little parties of riders and scouts. Occasionally a wagon would lumber down the bank and across, the water sloshing at its floorboards. I noticed a man standing by himself near the middle of the ford. At first I though he was a soldier hoping to add a little fish to his dinner, but he had no line or rod. I watched him but he never moved from his position, staring out across the ford and the river as the water flowed around his waist as smoothly as though he were a stone. Clearly a man lost in his own company. So I sloshed out there and joined him.
"Be glad to put this river behind us, I'll tell you that much." I said as I waded up to where he stood.
He gave no sign that he had heard me.
"I've got no preference as to which side I'm on, mind you. I just wish Lord Lannister would pick a side and stick with it, aye?"
He remained motionless and mute.
"Look, if you don't want the company just say so and I'll be on my way."
Still nothing.
"So. The ruby ford then. Here we are."
Silence.
Fuck it. I was hungry and my boots were full of water. So much for curiosity. I turned around and started to slosh back to camp.
"My father died here."
There was no sound around us but the rushing of the river.
The man spoke again. "My father was loyal to the true king, the dragon king. He died in this river, fighting for his son.
"Prince Rhaegar." I said.
"They call it the ruby ford now, in his honor. They remember him even if they bowed to the usurper. Nobody remembers my father. Nobody will remember us when we fall." He whirled around suddenly to face me, almost slipping on the stones. "I won't die in this bloody river!" he said fiercely. "I won't!"
I regarded him. He didn't seem frantic, only gripped by the fatalist dread that visits raw recruits after a battle. "So don't. But if you run they'll hang you."
He looked past me at the water. "I won't run."
"Come on," I said. "Let's talk, tell me about this place."
"Don't know it." he said, a little sullenly. "I'm from the Red Fork."
"So lets climb out of this bloody river and you can tell me about the Red Fork."
"My family was always river folk." he said when we were settled on the shore. "Ten generations right here in the Riverlands. Served the Rygers, or paid their taxes more like. No one takes notice of small folk, aye?"
"Not till there's dying to be done."
"Aye. When king Robert-" he paused and spat, "-rebelled against the dragons, the Rygers stayed true. Not many from the Riverlands did. My father was no knight, but he obeyed all the same. When the Rygers called their levies my father went. I was three and ten then. My mother locked me in the cellar or I'd have followed him."
"What happened?"
"Bloody Robert Baratheon happened. My uncle came home with my father's cloak and two gold dragons and that was that."
"Your uncle fought here too?"
"No. He was recovering from a wound so they left him in the camp with the other sick and wounded, but he went out to watch the battle anyway. Uncle always swore he saw the prince fall. So he gathered his belongings and went home."
"And that was that?"
He shrugged. "The prince was dead. Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, last of the true dragons."
"Your family stayed loyal."
He snorted. "Much good it did us. I lost my father and my uncle lost three fingers. We left the Riverlands after that, went to live with my uncle's cousin near Sarsfield. Now here I am at the ford."
"Look for any rubies? I hear its the thing to do."
He shook his head. "Rubies were all gone long ago, just like the dragons."
We sat in silence for a few moments.
"Prince Rhaegar never rode a dragon, did he?" I asked.
The man shook his head. "Dragons were before his time. All died out hundreds of years ago. The dragon kings still ruled after, but it wasn't the same, aye?"
"I'd think not."
"A septon who'd visited King's Landing passed through our village once. He said the dragons' lair still stood in the city. Like a huge ruined pit."
"They housed their dragons in the city? Damn, that'd keep your people on their toes."
"I wonder what they were like, sometimes. How easy it must have been to rule from the back of a dragon!"
"I'd say neither one of us is likely to find out, sadly. I for one would take flying over marching any day."
"I'd settle for riding."
"Plenty of horses lost their riders recently. I'd say that trend is likely to continue. Your lord one of them?"
"Never met him."
"For all that armor, nobles die like flies in war."
"Is that why you're here? To claim an empty holdfast somewhere?"
I laughed. "Hells, I wouldn't know what to do with one if I got it. I just follow the banner."
He looked at me strangely. "So its not about land and titles. Gold then?"
"Gold's always good," I admitted. "but it comes and goes. I don't think any one of my brothers has more than a few silver stags saved away. Better to spend it while you still live."
"But why spend it?" he persisted. "Why not save it and leave?
"Some do," I admitted. "But fewer than you think. Its not about the gold, see, its about being part of a brotherhood. You belong to the Company, you belong to something that existed before you were born and will go on existing after you've died and gone to dust. You can have a place in history. Your name will be remembered. Or just have some people who give a damn if you live or die. Some folk can't find that anywhere else."
He stared out across the river. "So I've learned."
We sat in silence, watching the river flow past.
"So, you're employed as long as the war lasts?" he asked.
"Or until Lord Lannister runs out of gold." I said.
"Going to be a long war before that happens." he replied.
Footsteps behind us. "Might be shorter than you think." Keelstone's voice said.
I turned. He was trying not to look pleased and failing. "Haven't heard then, Annalist? Thought that was your job."
"Well you volunteer for it then. What happened?"
"Wait, I want to savor this moment. This is going in the Annals, right?"
Sometimes this job is more trouble than its worth.
Whispering Wood. Robb Stark turned the war around in one fell stroke. While we were off bloodying the noses of some of his lords, he had captured our employer's son, broken his army, and lifted the siege of Riverrun. So while our employer marched his army back to Harrenhall, the Black Company was headed west again, into the lands of the river lords. That's the trouble with being a mercenary, everyone always wants to get their money's worth out of you.
XXX
The western Riverlands were in chaos. Ned Stark, former Hand of the King, had been executed as a traitor by King Joffrey Baratheon. His son Robb Stark, recently declared king by his bannermen, was resting on his laurels at Riverrun, but his lords were busy retaking their castles and lands around it. Our employer was holed up in Harrenhall, waiting to see which way the winds blew. In the west, the Greyjoys were calling their ships, and in the south, the two Baratheon brothers were gathering their banners. Good times all around. Sadly, the Black Company wasn't headed west or south. That would have been too easy. Instead, we were headed north to pay the 'King in the North' back in his own coin. Before we could do that, we had to get across the Red Fork of the Trident, preferably undetected. And so you see how this series of events has led to me lying in the grass next to my squad, watching the river road and waiting for the sun to set. Also the grass was wet.
We had seen no travelers on the road all day. Our scouts were almost certain the wolves didn't patrol this far east, but the Captain didn't want almost. So two squads were watching the road here while Flint lounged in the bushes waiting to work his sorcery. His less grim counterpart Chains was several miles down the road with another two squads. Why they had to wait for night I don't know, but that's their business, not mine. Night fell with no break to the monotony of watching an empty road. It was a relief to finally rouse Flint and watch him get to work. He ordered us to keep off the road, something about 'tainting the soil', so we watched from the bank while Flint dug around in the dirt and muck of the road. He finally produced a pebble, washed it clean with something from a flask, and carefully replaced it in the dirt. Then he scuffed a line across the road with his boot and walked back to us.
"Done." Flint is a man of few words.
"All this for that?" Keelstone complained.
"You want results or a mummers' farce?" Flint growled. "No men bearing iron or wearing iron have passed through here in a fortnight. Company's clear to move through."
"I'll let the Captain know." Kip volunteered. Flint was already striding away down the road.
I looked back at the others. Mayson shrugged. "So can we walk on the road now?"
"We'll find out." I set off after Flint.
I found him holding a whispered conversation with Chains which ended with Flint scooping up a handful of road dirt, depositing it in Chain's hand, and stalking off. Chains stared at the pile of dirt. A single worm emerged from the surface and flailed about. Chains nodded thoughtfully at the worm, dumped the soil back in the road, and walked off after his colleague.
Fucking wizards.
XXX
The Company slipped across the river and headed north, screened from detection by roving scouts and nets of spells. Five days after we crossed the Red Fork our outriders were surveying the walls of Fairmarket, our target. We were here to show King Robb that two could play at disrupting supply lines. Any supplies and reinforcements from the north had to cross the Trident somewhere, and Fairmarket was a key crossing. The Company coiled itself around the town and waited.
In the dark before dawn we prepared. The moon had set and clouds covered the stars. I could hardly see my hand in front of my face. My brothers were slightly darker shades of gray and black to either side of me. Cooking fires were out of the question. I worried at a strip of dried meat and sipped watery ale. A broad shadow loomed up in front of me. Chains' meaty paws grasped the sides of my head as he muttered under his breath, something slimy and sibilant. Something greasy that smelled like wildflowers was smeared on my forehead and he moved on to the next brother in line. Nothing happened for a few moments. Then my eyes started to itch, then burn, as though someone had splashed dragon pepper juice in them. I gritted my teeth. Finally the burning subsided. Blinking away tears, I found I could see the forest and fields clearly, although everything was strangely tinted yellow.
Sergeant Lilt jogged up. "Squad, on me. If you can't see, say so now."
No one spoke up.
"Good. Alright, plan's simple, so even you whoresons don't have an excuse to fuck this up. We move in quick and quiet, straight to the city wall. The wizards will take care of any sentries, we go up and over, open the gate, and then straight on to the bridge. Got it?"
Chorus of affirmatives.
"Good. And I want no noise. I hear jingling, I will nail that kit to your body. We clear?"
"Quiet as mice, sir." Kip loved this knives in the dark shit. He and Silkfingers were carrying blades long enough to be mistaken for short swords. Me, I didn't trust a dagger longer than my forearm.
"We'll see." Lilt said. "Follow me, brothers."
We crept out of the woods and into the farmland. We avoided the crops—no sense fighting your way through a wheat field in the dark—and kept to the paths. Not a soul stirred in the farmhouses as we passed through. Twice or thrice a dog barked as we passed. We slunk away and gave those houses a wide berth. Somewhere off to our left a hoarse shout was suddenly cut off. Lilt hissed and we quickened our pace.
We were at the gate. The wooden palisade looked new, bark was peeling off some of the logs. One of the sentries was splayed in the dirt by the gate, his neck twisted under him. Must have been leaning out over the wall when our wizards struck. Kip knifed him to make sure. Mayson and Keelstone planted themselves at the foot of the wall. The rest of us swarmed up and over them and onto the top of the wall. One guard slumped against the battlement, snoring. Kip cut his throat too. Then we were down on the inside. A charcoal brazier smoked by the gate, two more guards lay beside it. Silkfingers and Lilt dealt with them while the rest of us went for the gate. We levered the heavy crossbeam out and slid it aside. The gate rumbled open. "Bridge!" Lilt hissed and we were off.
Fairmarket was dark and still before us. We sprinted through the streets. Far behind us I thought I heard the faint thunder of hooves.
There were no guards on the bridge. We pulled up and panted for breath. Silkfingers and Kip investigated the far side, blades making passes at shadows. I looked back the way we came and watched Fairmarket awaken to its fate. Company cavalry thundered past, infantry riding double. Squads were kicking in doors down the streets. Sappers fired a building and speared screaming men who fled the flames. Too late, a horn sounded across the river. Lilt whistled and we circled up.
"Job's done, brothers. Let's turn this town upside down."
Kip and Mayson whooped as we started off down the street.
Shouts broke out behind us. I turned to see the biggest northman I'd ever seen on top of the biggest horse I'd ever seen emerge from the darkness at full gallop. Of fucking course he's headed right for me. We scattered off the road out of his path. No good, he's swinging at any shadow that moves and I've got a solid wall at my back. Mayson was in the same boat, he scrambled forward to swing for the horse's legs. Kip whipped a knife at the northman and missed, Silkfingers threw and hit the horse. It screamed and stumbled mid-stride. The man went over its neck as it folded. He came up bellowing and aimed a slash at Mayson that came damned close to cutting him in half. I ventured a stab but the point of my knife grated on a mail shirt. What did the fucker do, sleep in it? Gods bless Kip's short sword. It took the northman's sword hand off at the wrist. That set him back enough for Silkfingers to grab a fistful of hair and jam his knife into his throat.
"Fuck me." I panted.
"Mayson, you in one piece?" Lilt demanded.
Mayson was patting himself over like a man not quite sure how many limbs he still had. "Still here, sergeant."
"Alright. Fuck me but that was a big lad."
The rest of the night held no more surprises. We sacked, burned, killed, looted, and left Fairmarket and its bridge in ruins. By the time the sun had risen the Company was headed south again.