Everyone left the hall, leaving only the heir of House Piper and the ancient weasel, Marquess Walder.
"They're all waiting for me to die. Stefflon has been waiting for forty years, but I'm determined to disappoint him. Hmm, why should I go to heaven early just so he can inherit the title?"
"I sincerely hope you live to be a hundred."
"That will infuriate them, it surely will. Now, let's talk about sending troops. What did you say you brought?"
"I brought Lord Hoster's personal letter, in which he requests House Frey to send troops," Ser Marq pleaded, then pulled the letter from his chest.
"Oh, let me hear the lament of poor old Hoster," Lord Walder gleefully opened the letter. It was indeed Lord Hoster's personal plea for aid, with the emblem of House Tully of Riverrun below: a silver trout on rippling water.
"Lord Walder, this is indeed a personal letter. If you still remember your sacred oath, please send troops quickly!"
"Send troops?" Marquess Walder closed the letter. "I never thought the day would come when Hoster would beg me, but sending troops requires careful preparation. The Kingslayer's ten thousand soldiers are outside Riverrun. Am I to send my few thousand soldiers to Riverrun to be drowned?"
"Absolutely not!" Ser Marq roared. "Stark will send troops, Arryn will send troops. But you are the only remaining Lord of the Riverlands, pre-eminent in military strength and wealth. You must send troops to rescue them first!"
"Ser, I advise you to calm down. Stark is now in the Black Cells beneath The Red Keep for treason. Hoster is bedridden, practically at his last breath. As for the Kingslayer, he captured your good friend, Ser Edmure. Now you're asking me to send troops? Are you trying to scare me?" Old Walder refused to budge.
"You once swore allegiance to Lord Hoster," Ser Marq reminded him.
Marquess Walder shook his head from side to side, a slight smile on his face. "That's true, but I also once swore allegiance to the king. Since Joffrey is king, then Riverrun is now full of traitors. And I'm supposed to send troops to save you all? I should help the Lannister and kill you all."
"Then why don't you go help the Lannister?" Ser Marq asked coldly.
"Hmph," Marquess Walder said disdainfully. "Lord Tywin, he is a great man, warden of the west, hand of the king, what an extraordinary figure. He's made of gold, in the shape of a lion, so arrogant. I bet you, he farts just like anyone else after eating too many beans, what's he showing off? He only has two sons, one Kingslayer, one deformed Little Monkey. I could trade sons with him; if two die, I still have nineteen and a half." Walder laughed heartily. "If Lord Tywin needs my help, he could at least bloody ask."
"But that's not even the most crucial thing. Tywin himself will be in trouble soon. the three storms, you must have heard of them. So many people covet his grandson's iron throne. King Robert's brothers, oh, and his fierce bastard, The Boy Blacksmith Across the Narrow Sea. A bastard is a bastard, that Child is definitely an ambitious one."
"Lord, I am now asking for your help," Ser Marq said. "On behalf of Riverrun, on behalf of House Tully."
"I have soldiers, men, and many sons. But why should I send troops now? Since Riverrun has not completely fallen, I think they can hold on for a while longer."
"Lord," Ser Marq's eyes widened, "Riverrun cannot wait that long!"
"Ser, you are a young man. Young men shouldn't be so impatient." Lord Walder extended a withered finger. "See my wife? She's only sixteen, and her nectar is only for me. I bet you, by this time next year, she'll bear me a son. But tell me, why would I leave a soft feather bed, a warm embrace, to go to chaotic Riverrun now?"
Ser Marq's throat tightened. House Frey would indeed not send a single soldier.
"Heh heh, Hoster is begging me, that sound is truly delightful. But he knows me, I'm always late." Lord Walder began to ramble, he always held grudges. "Hoster didn't come to my wedding, even if he's dying, it's still an insult. Don't forget, he didn't come to my last wedding either, and called me Marquess Walder the Late? Heh heh, the entire Riverlands knows, right? And many other things. I will definitely live longer than Hoster. House Tully always looks down on me.
Many years ago, I went to Hoster and proposed that Edmure marry my daughter. What's wrong with that? I have many daughters. That daughter of mine was only a few years older than Edmure, but I have plenty of daughters, young, old, widows. But Hoster said a bunch of sweet nothings and refused. All were excuses."
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