The pursuit was swift but disorganized. Parties of northerners picked up the Company's trail heading south only to run into ambushes and traps, or to find themselves following their own tracks in circles. The bulk of Stark's forces may have been well south and west of us, but we were not inclined to linger in enemy territory without good cause. We were headed back to Harrenhal, leaving Fairmarket in ashes and the wolves chasing shadows.
XXX
"I count seventeen, sergeant. Sigil is a red horse on gold and brown. Looks like a knight and squire, three men at arms, dozen or so mounted archers." Keelstone had keen eyesight.
I mentally consulted my heraldry roll. "Enemy. Tully bannermen."
"Well, they're not moving."
"Keep still then and don't give them a reason to."
We were laid out underneath some bushes watching a trail that ran west along the river. The bulk of the Company was east of us, crossing the Red Fork. The northerners were searching the river banks on both sides, trying to pin us down before we could slip back east. So far these horsemen hadn't made a move in that direction. We were there to watch and wait. So we did just that.
After some time there was a stir. The soldiers sorted themselves out into a line, with the knight in the center and a little in front. The archers strung their bows but didn't nock arrows. We perked ourselves up in case they decided to come our way. Lilt kicked Mayson awake.
Out of the bushes came five or six men in dirty clothing and worn, piecemeal armor. Deserters probably. Or brigands. I could see where crests had been removed, sigils scraped or filed off. Interesting. The knight rode a few paces forward as one of the men stepped towards him.
"What are they saying?" Silkfingers hissed, mostly to himself.
The brigand leader and the knight spoke for several minutes, the brigand gesturing freely around him, pointing north and east. The knight beckoned his squire forward who produced what I guessed was a map. The two of them went over it in detail. After a few more minutes of discussion the knight rolled the paper back up and passed it back to the squire. A small pouch was produced and handed over to the brigand who sketched a jaunty salute and faded back into the brush with his followers. The knight collected his men and headed down the road west. We waited. Once it was clear that no one was doubling back we emerged from our hiding place and marched east to rejoin the Company.
The Black Company eluded its pursuers along the Trident and marched east and south towards Harrenhal. The lands we marched through were rich and fertile, with dozens of small towns and hundreds of villages and hamlets. Most of them were still untouched by our employer's raiders. We soon corrected that.
"Good morning, Annalist! Beautiful day, isn't it? Sun shining, birds singing, all that shit."
The Lieutenant was far too cheery this early in the day. There must be killing ahead.
"We have some bonus pay coming that I didn't know about?" I asked.
The Lieutenant grinned. "That depends on you, Annalist. Our supplies are running low and we're not coming back to our employer begging. Foragers are going out today to gather what they can. You fancy south or west for your squad?"
I shrugged. "South."
"South it is. Our scouts report several small villages in that direction, no holdfasts or soldiers. Take two squads and come back with supplies: foodstuffs, grain, hay, cheese, ale, cider. Use your judgment but you have leave to impress locals if you need extra hands for transport. Do what you like with the villages."
"I'll tell you what I decided in the evening."
"Or I'll see the smoke," she said, starting to walking away. "Fuck a farmer's daughter for me!" she shouted back over her shoulder.
XXX
We rode out with two squads that morning, my own and Sergeant Tava's. I had worked with Tava before and liked her. Well, respected would be more accurate. Tava was a seasoned old campaigner with a serious brutal streak and a taste for quality horseflesh. She actually named her mounts and the one she rode now was protected by quilted barding. She and Sergeant Lilt conferred as we rode out of camp. I exercised Annalist privilege and drifted towards the back of the column, joining in the gossip and banter with my brothers as we rode along.
The Riverlands was clearly prime farming land and its inhabitants had taken full advantage. We rode through fields of gleaming grain, past laden orchards and stands of timber, and around ponds and streams. Many of the fields had been harvested already but the war had clearly disturbed things – the orchards were carpeted with fallen fruit and in some of the fields the grain was starting to rot on the stalk. Not our business, not our problems. If the Riverlands lords were too weak to protect their own people then that was on their heads. We were here to do our jobs. I knew some of my brothers enjoyed this kind of thing – riding down frightened farmers, emptying their barns, slaughtering their families, leaving nothing but ashes. I do not, not out of any misplaced sentimentality but because wanton cruelty leaves a lingering worry in the back of my mind. Terror and fear are strong but hate is stronger. Hate sinks into men's bones like a shivering fever and lingers in their blood. Slaughter a man's animals, steal his crops, put his house to the torch, rape his wife and daughters in front of him, cut his sons' throats, beat him and leave him for dead and he will both hate and fear you. But the fear dies with him. If you should ever meet his grandsons they will not know you, but they will hate you with a hatred that is as fresh and sharp as a virgin blade. Still, I expected some new widows and orphans to be made by nightfall. You do not change a man's nature for the better by handing him a sword. Any former farmers in our company would have no sympathy for the smallfolk about to lose their season's labor and possibly more at our hands. The Company's business is not in earth and water but in blood and steel and gold. Thus it has ever been.
We topped a low ridge and reined up for a moment. The shallow valley below us was carpeted with golden stubble and shocks of grain. In one field nearby people were loading wagons with the cut and bundled harvest.
"First target," Lilt grunted. "Tava, take your squad along the top of the hill, cut them off if they run and make sure this isn't a trap. "Rest of you, with me."
We rode towards the group of peasants as Tava and her squad cantered away down the ridgeline. They spotted us almost immediately and froze, then huddled together, grouping up around a wagon. They were wary, not sure if we were the enemy or a detachment from a local lord. I studied them as we jogged closer. Mostly women and old men, with a few young boys. The men were all off fighting then.
"Looks like a good harvest." Lilt drawled as he reined in his horse in front of the group.
They looked at him uncertainly. "A-aye, that it is m'lord." one of the graybeards ventured cautiously.
"Does the heart good to see people working together in these trying times," Lilt continued. "What's your name, grandfather?"
"Beld, if it please m'lord."
"Oh, that it does. Are you a loyal man, Beld?"
The old man nodded. "Aye." He squinted suspiciously at us each in turn.
"Loyalty to your lord, that's good. But which lord are you loyal to?" Lilt made his horse sidestep closer to the man.
"Lord Lychester o' course. Him and his have always held these lands. And whose men are you to come riding over his fields?"
Lilt assumed an injured expression. "The lord of Riverrun of course. Lord, uh, Ti-"
"Tully" I interjected.
Lilt snapped his fingers. "That's the one. Lord Tully requires food for his army. We're here to collect your lord's share of it."
Murmurs of doubt from the group. Beld muttered something into his beard.
"I know you must find this harsh," Lilt said. "but we have our duties too, same as you."
"Tisn't fair." one of the women said.
"Where's your Tully colors?" another asked. "No Tully bannermen I ever saw wore black armor."
Murmurs of agreement. "Deserters from the Wall, more like," someone said.
"Armor doesn't change a man," Lilt objected. "We're still loyal and true no matter what colors we wear."
Beld slowly shook his head. "Don't believe a word o' what you say."
Lilt grinned. "You've got some balls, old man. You ever fight?"
"Far from here, aye. In the Stepstones," Beld looked Lilt in the eye. "Fought men that would eat you for breakfast."
"No doubt," Lilt chuckled. "You can tell me stories later. But today we're going to take your grain."
Beld laughed bitterly. "Think I'm going to stop you? Tisn't a man here to stand up to the likes of you. Take it and be damned."
Keelstone laughed as he lowered the tip of his spear.
"Hold," Lilt said. "Get in the cart, all of you."
They climbed into the hay wagon and sat there watching us nervously.
"Get the cart moving," Lilt said. "Drive back to your village."
One of the younger boys scrambled for the reins. One of the women reached for him and started to speak but stopped herself and sat back, watching us out of the corners of her eyes.
We set off down the valley, collecting Tava's squad as we passed them. They fell in behind us, grinning.
The village was a short ride down the valley next to a good sized stream. More old women and young children met us there. We put the villagers to work dumping the unthreshed grain from the wagon and loading it with food stores, mostly bags of grain and vegetables. We fanned out to search the village more thoroughly but there was nothing of particular note. Once the wagon was filled we took it and set off for the next village. The villagers cursed us as we rode out but made no move to stop us.
We had no trouble until the third village. It was slightly larger than the first two with a stone sept and a windmill. No villagers were working in the fields as we rode up and there were no signs of life in the village.
"Trouble." Lilt grunted.
"Or they've run off into the woods." I offered.
"Could be," Lilt said. "Spread out all the same, and watch those wagons."
"I'll take the houses on the left." Tava was grinning as she dismounted.
We left Mayson and Keelstone to guard the wagons and moved towards the houses on the right. A few chickens clucked and pecked in the dirt but otherwise all was quiet.
Lilt ripped a wooden shutter open and risked a glance inside the house. "No one inside here." he said.
We went down the street house by house. All were empty of inhabitants. We met Tava and her squad at the far end of the village. "No people." she reported.
"Same with us," Lilt said. "All of them run away, you think?"
"Likely," Tava said. "Makes no matter to us, as long as they didn't take all their food with them.
"We'll search the sept and the windmill just to be sure," Lilt said. "Tava, see if you can't find some space in the wagons for those barrels we saw back there."
"Aye." Tava and her men headed back into the houses as we approached the sept.
"Think there's anything good inside?" Kip wondered aloud as we reached the doors.
"Doubt it," I said. "Maybe a few carved statues or something. Still, only one way to find out." I put my shoulder to the heavy wooden door.
It didn't budge.
Silkfingers and Lilt threw their weight against the door. It barely shuddered.
"Something's in there." Kip said.
"Quiet!" Lilt held up a hand. "Heard something inside."
"Sergeant!" Mayson was shouting from down the street. "Enemies approaching!"
"Leave it!" Lilt ordered. "Follow me!"
We sprinted down the street. Tava and her squad were forming a defensive line in front of the wagons. As we rounded the last house we saw why. A mob of armed men were streaming towards us out of the nearby trees. A few wore armor and carried swords, the rest looked liked farmers. Probably the ones from this village.
"Fall back!" Lilt was shouting. "Fall back behind the wagons!"
We pulled back, forcing the mob to funnel between the wagons and the houses to get to us. Mayson and Keelstone had their crossbows and were shooting from atop the wagons, trying to pick off the leaders before they reached us. One of the armored men stumbled and fell with a bolt in his side. A farmer dropped.
"Right lads!" Lilt shouted as the foremost men reached the wagons. "Let's show 'em why you don't fuck with the Black Company!"
I shouted with the rest and braced myself, then they were on us. I twisted to the side, dodging a leveled pitchfork that scraped along my armor. I slid my sword forward, allowing the man to impale himself on it. Another man in a sky blue tunic lunged forward as the first man's body sagged to the ground. I ducked his blow and lashed out with my free hand, rocking him back. I cut him down while he was off balance. A skinning knife opened up my sleeve. My riposte opened his belly. Parry. Block. Thrust. Deflect. Lunge. Dodge. Cut.
We fell back slowly up the street, leaving a trail of enemy bodies behind us. Keelstone spitted a bearded giant with a woodsman's axe on his spear, saving Kip from being beheaded. Silkfingers took a threshing flail to the leg and dropped to one knee. Keelstone dragged him back up again, cutting down two of the villagers who tried to drag him into the crowd. Tava and two of her squad, Pebbles and Quilt, had formed a tight group with Tava and Pebbles guarding the flanks while Quilt thrust and slashed with his greatsword. Mayson was a whirlwind of steel, fighting off two of the armored men at once. He slammed his shield into one man's helmet, knocking him to the side. Seizing the opportunity I slashed open the face of the man attacking me and drove my sword into the man's leg below his ragged brigandine. He went down howling. Before either of us could finish the job another rush of villagers drove us back.
Then suddenly there was a lull and we were standing panting in the street with the sept at our backs and a much diminished mob of men facing us and clutching their weapons uncertainly. Their leaders were all down, dead, dying, or groaning in the mud, and now the more reluctant followers found themselves with no one to prod them forward. Their blood had cooled after repeatedly stepping over the hacked bodies of their fellows, and now prudence or cowardice was making an appearance.
"Fuck are you lot waiting for, an invitation?" Lilt spat.
I stood and panted, my legs braced apart. The blood was singing in my veins but I had no breath left in me. Both sides stood panting and watching the men across from them, waiting to see which way the coin would fall.
"Look here," one of the villagers began uncertainly. "if you throw down your weapons and-"
"Fuck your mother, whoreson," Tava barked. "You want my sword so badly, come here and take it."
The man rocked back as though he had been slapped. He glanced uncertainly at the men beside him for support.
"Brave talk for a bitch outnumbered twice over." a bearded man growled, gripping a sharpened stave.
Tava barked laughter. "We were outnumbered ten times over a quarter of an hour ago, you yellow dog. Look behind you and see what we did."
A few of them actually did. Uncertain muttering broke out.
"You cowards!" the bearded man said. "We can kill them here and be done with it!"
"You'll die doing it." Keelstone promised him.
"Do you know what will happen if you kill us?" I asked him. "You kill us and what, bury us in the woods?"
He glared at me.
"Lets say you do. We'll be missed tonight when we don't report in. Our Lieutenant will send out soldiers looking for us. They'll find someone who will talk, because someone always talks. And then they'll come here. In force. Not to take some food but to send a message. Don't fuck with the Company. So they'll track each and every one of you down and kill you slowly. All of you will die. Your families will die. You houses will burn. This village will be erased. Because that's how you send a message. That's how you make sure that the next village doesn't lift a gods-damned finger to stop us. On the other hand, if we walk away then we go back to camp with the food. Job done and we have no reason to come back here. You go about your lives and we go about ours."
He didn't rattle—much. I had struck a chord with his fellows though. The muttering intensified.
"He's right Devan," a man whined, plucking at the bearded man's sleeve. "We should let them go."
Devan shook him off. "You're a gods-damned coward," he growled. "You all are cowards. Do you think any of these killers know mercy?"
"We're not here to kill you. You attacked us." I said.
"Aye, that's what we do to thieves." he growled.
"So step up and take a swing, little man." Keelstone grinned at him.
Devan did just that. Keelstone blocked his high overhand swing and Kip laid him open from belly to shoulder. That was the end of their resistance. The rest fled. We checked each other over for wounds. Silkfinger's leg was swollen and throbbing but didn't seem to be broken. I had a long shallow cut on my left arm that would have to be stitched up. Mayson had a black eye he didn't remember getting. All of us had dozens of minor cuts and bruises.
Kip and Mayson wanted to break into the sept and see what was inside but Lilt and Tava overruled them. Returning to camp with the food took priority. We mounted up and rode out as quickly as possible, wary of other ambushes along the way. There were none. Company scouts picked us up half a league from camp and escorted us in.
XXX
The great gates of Harrenhal gaped open to receive the Black Company. Even in their ruinous condition they looked all but impregnable. The wall itself was thick and tall, tall enough that the sentries above us looked like ants pacing along a log. We passed through a long echoing tunnel of a gateway and into the grounds of Harrenhal. Even as a centuries-old ruin the castle still possessed a kind of majesty. Its towers were tilted and cracked and then melted into place, like half-burnt candles, but they were still taller and larger than any other tower I had seen. They looked big enough to each house the population of a small town and still have room left over for their animals and goods. Which was good, because one of the towers was the Company's new quarters.
"We will be camped in Harrenhal for the near future," the Captain had announced to the assembled Company. "Our employer likes to keep his swords close at hand. Do not mistake his tolerance for friendliness. We will be encamped in close proximity to the Lannister army, to other sellsword companies, and to a host of Lannister nobles. I expect all of you to conduct yourselves accordingly. Any brother who endangers our relationship with our employer will answer to me."
So now we were encamping inside the largest castle in the region, one which I had reliably been informed was haunted and cursed and had brought only ruin and destruction upon its owners. Also the name of the tower assigned to us was the Tower of Ghosts. I am no more superstitious than the next man, but even I could see a pattern emerging with Harrenhal. Fortunately, as the Company Annalist, I was not only permitted but required to satisfy my curiosity in this matter. First, however, we had to report to our employer.
As befitted a man of his rank, Lord Tywin Lannister was a hard man to meet. If it were otherwise, common soldiers might start to think their commander was no more important than themselves. Sellswords had no better chance. Fortunately we had been ordered to appear, which meant that the Captain and myself only waited for nearly an hour while Lord Tywin was closeted in council with his lords.
The room was clearing when the steward ushered us into the council chambers. "The sellsword commander, my lord." he announced and bowed his way back out.
Lord Tywin glanced up from his papers. "Sit." he ordered.
I studied our employer as we seated ourselves. Lord Tywin was a broad-shouldered and active looking man. It was difficult to guess his age – his head was bald but his carefully trimmed whiskers were still golden. He did not seem a man for trifles, or one to be trifled with.
"How did you find Fairmarket?" he asked.
"Lightly defended and unwary." the Captain said.
"And how long do you think it will take the Starks and Tullys to recover?"
The Captain considered. "For the bridge, perhaps a week. For the town, half a year. They will divert supplies and men to the town that could have gone to their armies."
"And the men you lost, do you consider their lives wasted for such gains?"
"We lost eight men taking Fairmarket, my lord. The enemy lost far more. I consider that a fair trade."
"You understand the cost of war, then."
"Men's lives. And gold. Usually more of the latter than the former."
"Much has been spent already. Much and more will be spent soon. How do you find our current situation?"
"Precarious, my lord."
"Explain."
The Captain settled himself in his chair. "You control the Riverlands south of the Trident as far as Riverrun, or near enough, but it buys you nothing strategically. All the fords are held by the Tullys and Starks. A failed crossing attempt could break your army or leave half trapped against the river. If you attempt to march west, you leave the road open for Stark to descend on King's Landing. March south to defend King's Landing and Stark invades your lands and the Tullys consolidate control of the Riverlands."
Lord Tywin leaned back in his chair. "And yet you made your way across the Trident and back."
"A company can move more quickly and quietly than a host, my lord. Especially a host as...gallant as yours."
Lord Tywin snorted. "Gallantry. If wars were won with gallantry a Tyrell would sit atop the Iron Throne. I do not intend to wage war with gallantry, I intend to win it. You have already struck at the enemy once inside their own lands, I want you to do it again."
The Captain nodded. "What is the target, my lord?"
"Riverrun. You will take your men across the Trident into the seat of the Tullys and rescue my son who is imprisoned there. Return him safely to me and you will be richly rewarded."
"A difficult task. May I ask why you would give it to the Black Company?"
"This cannot be accomplished by strength, only by speed and trickery. You fight for gold, not for glory and honor. You do not consider ways and means, only ends, and will use whatever mummer's tricks you must to reach them."
The Captain shrugged agreement. "Even the most carefully planned rescue attempt carries risk for your son, my lord."
"And you think him safer in the dungeons beneath Riverrun?"
"I do not know the mind of Robb Stark, my lord," the Captain said carefully, "but if this is what you want, the Company will see it through."
Lord Tywin nodded curtly. "Good. I expect nothing less. You will leave Harrenhal in three days, under orders to march north to the kingsroad and drive the Stark bannermen from the Ruby Ford. Instead, you will travel west and return with my son."
He turned his attention back to the stack of papers at his elbow, signaling that the interview was over. We made our bows and left.
The Captain was silent as we made our way back to our tower. "What do you think?" I prompted. "Seems quite the risk – for us and our employer."
"We'll hold a counsel tonight," he finally said. "Plan this thing out and decide what approach to take. Meanwhile, tell no one about this, not even your closest squadmates."
I adopted a hurt expression. "I do understand discretion, you know. Keep my mouth shut all the time about things I hear."
He didn't seem to hear me, gazing off into the distance at the Company banner that hung from one of the windows of the Tower of Ghosts. "This will make or break the Company." he said in a tired voice.