During the time we had been here, fresh reports arrived almost daily, and we followed the overall situation closely. I studied the map every day, and a plan had begun to take shape in my mind. Together with Jaime, we weighed different options, gradually feeling our way toward something concrete. But it was still too early to speak of it—Tarly needed to be brought fully up to speed.
For two days, I introduced him to the lords he didn't know, showed him our defensive works, and shared everything I had learned about the Blackfish, the Freys, and the Boltons—the size of their forces, their condition and morale, their supply situation, and everything else.
"I think they don't get along with each other very well," Tarly remarked grimly as we sat at the table preparing to eat. His sword, Heartsbane, which he seemed to sleep with for all I knew, was leaning nearby against one of the wooden poles supporting the tent. "I'm surprised that the Blackfish could ever forgive the Freys and the Boltons for the Red Wedding at all."
"We believe Walder shifted the blame onto his grandfather, claiming he himself opposed the whole affair. That bastard Ramsay likely said the same thing," Jaime noted.
"The Blackfish is far smarter than the trout on his sigil. How could he believe such nonsense?"
"Maybe he only pretended to believe it. What else could he do, given how things turned out? Maybe he's waiting for something—or maybe he's simply tired of it all. Who knows?" I nodded to Robert, and the first course—crayfish soup—was set before us.
"Perhaps," Randyll grunted, taking up his spoon and beginning to eat. From his expression, it was clear my words hadn't convinced him in the slightest. "I like your plan. Not all of it, but it has merit," he added after a while with his usual bluntness. "Only… what about those mountain clans from the Mountains of the Moon? When can I expect any guarantees from them?"
"I think you should speak with Ser Bronn. He's here in the camp—I'll have him sent to you," I replied.
It was a good thing Lord Edmure Tully was absent from that meal. I didn't want to hide things from him or avoid him. By his conduct, he had earned royal candor—but at the moment, we were discussing how to deal with his own relatives. A slippery position.
As for Bronn of the Blackwater, he deserved a monument for what he had accomplished. When we had still been advancing, he had moved north with our army, then split off near the Crossroads and struck out on his own toward the Mountains of the Moon, bypassing the Bloody Gate.
It takes no small amount of courage to approach those half-crazed mountain clans. Those men are used to killing first, raping next, and only then asking questions. And Bronn did not possess Tyrion's gift of eloquence.
Yet he managed it. It helped that, first of all, they remembered him, and second, Tyrion had indeed made arrangements before parting with the clans—he had foreseen how they could be found again.
Bronn managed to return to us once we had already taken up defensive positions at the Ruby Ford and relayed their terms. The clans were more than willing to answer the call to do a bit of killing and looting in the Vale. Of course, their price was steep—but only by their standards. For us, it was practically nothing. Especially considering that the right to rape, burn, and seize property was included in the bargain.
The clans said they would wait. Now we needed to push the Blackfish's forces away from the crossing, reach the Crossroads, and find them again—they would then guide us through the mountain paths to the Bloody Gate. The clans might have dared to attack the castle themselves, but they simply lacked the necessary numbers.
"Good. I'll handle that," Tarly nodded. "When are you leaving for the capital?"
"Tomorrow."
"And you, Jaime?" he turned to the Lord Commander.
"I'm going as well."
"And Lord Edmure Tully, I assume, will accompany you?"
"Yes," I replied.
Tully himself had received his new assignment with immense relief when I explained it to him. He was to return to Riverrun with his vassals and from there retrace the route of the Young Wolf, Robb Stark—only in reverse. From Riverrun, he would cross to the far bank of the Red Fork, pass through the Whispering Wood, reach Sevenstreams, pass the Hag's Mire, and lay siege to the Twins. The Frey stronghold would be difficult to take, but under siege from both sides, it would not hold. As for Lord Tarly, the rest would fall to him—drive the enemy away from the crossing, take the Bloody Gate with the help of the clans, and push into the Vale. There, the army would divide, with a smaller portion sent to blockade the Twins from the opposite side.
Servants brought in the next course—venison stew with pieces of bacon and truffles.
"Well then, I see you've already decided everything—handing the army over to me and making sure no one gets underfoot…" Lord Tarly remarked after tasting the dish, then added, "Not bad." It was somewhat unclear whether he meant the venison or the news of his appointment.
But I truly did not want to leave him together with Jaime. Both were serious men and easily slighted. A conflict could arise out of nothing.
This way, I would take the Lord Commander back to the capital, and everyone would be satisfied.
Early the next morning, we set out. Well-fed and well-rested horses carried us swiftly. We changed mounts a couple of times. King's Landing drew nearer at a rapid pace, and I eagerly awaited the moment I would see Margaery and the children again.
(End of Chapter)
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