Bronze Yohn Royce's weathered face was etched with seriousness.
"Lord Lynn, the Vale accepts the terms of your trade."
"But how can you guarantee that while we are stabilizing, the Lannisters won't march from the Golden Tooth and sweep through the Riverlands again?"
"Once the Riverlands fall, the Bloody Gate of the Vale will be exposed to Tywin's spearpoint."
This question was the main worry of every Riverlord.
House Frey was gone, but House Lannister remained.
That Old Lion wouldn't just sit by and watch the North, the Riverlands, and the Vale unite into one massive bloc.
Edmure Tully looked nervously at Lynn as well.
He was the Lord of Riverrun now.
But he knew perfectly well that without Lynn, he couldn't hold this war-torn land on his own.
Lynn's gaze swept over the anxiety poorly hidden on their faces, unperturbed.
"A good question, Lord Royce."
"Since I dare to leave the Riverlands and the Vale in your capable hands, I naturally have a plan."
Lynn stood up and walked to the massive map of Westeros in the center of the hall.
His finger landed on the imposing fortress at the border of the Riverlands and the Westerlands.
The Golden Tooth.
"Ever since Robert's death and Joffrey's ascent to the Iron Throne, the main force of Tywin Lannister's army has been concentrated around King's Landing to stabilize his grandson's shaky rule."
"The Golden Tooth has a garrison, but it is not a threat."
"Moreover, with our three regions united, our military strength far exceeds any single faction in Westeros."
"Unless Tywin has gone senile, he will not initiate a war against our tripartite alliance."
"He cannot afford the consequences."
"So, what we need to guard against is not the West, but the South."
Lynn's finger traced the Kingsroad south, stopping heavily on King's Landing.
"Tywin is a smart man. He won't fight us head-on right now."
"He will use his favorite tools: division, bribery, promises."
"My Lords, you face more enemies than just Tywin."
"Especially now that we are united, we will become a thorn in the side of every other power player!"
Lynn's words sank everyone's hearts.
They had been fixated on the Lannisters, forgetting the other hungry wolves eyeing Westeros.
"Then... what should we do?"
A Riverlands earl asked.
"Simple."
Lynn turned, his gaze landing on the silent old man standing behind Edmure.
"Ser Brynden Tully."
Hearing his name, the Blackfish stepped forward and bowed slightly to Lynn.
"Lord Lynn."
"From today on, I appoint you as the Deputy Commander of the Allied Forces of the North, Riverlands, and Vale."
"You will assist Robb in commanding the armies."
Lynn's voice echoed clearly in the hall.
"You will unify the command of all military forces in the Riverlands and the Vale, and you are fully responsible for the defense against King's Landing and the South!"
The hall erupted in shock!
Edmure looked up sharply, staring at his uncle in disbelief, then at Lynn.
Bronze Yohn Royce's hawk-like eyes flashed with surprise.
He could understand giving command to Robb.
Robb had proven his military genius and was Ned's eldest son. With that connection, trusting Robb made sense.
But... Brynden?
That seemed a stretch.
He had assumed Lynn would install a Northern general to control them.
He never expected Lynn to hand such critical command authority to a Tully!
Even the Blackfish was stunned.
He never dreamed that one day he would help command the armies of three "kingdoms."
"Lord Lynn... this... this is irregular."
Brynden spoke with difficulty.
"I am just a knight..."
"Irregular?" Lynn smiled.
"Today, in these lands, my word is the rule."
Lynn walked up to Brynden, looking straight into those weathered eyes.
"Ser, I don't care about your titles. I only know you are one of the finest commanders in all of Westeros."
Historically, in the War of the Five Kings, the Blackfish assisted Robb and never tasted defeat.
On a strategic level, the only loss was due to Edmure's impatience and failure to follow orders.
So, the Blackfish was more than capable.
"Your experience and ability are unmatched."
"I trust you with the southern defense line."
These words shook Brynden to his core.
Looking into Lynn's deep eyes, he saw undisguised trust and appreciation.
A knight dies for the lord who knows his worth!
The blood of this veteran warrior, long cooled by age, boiled again in this moment!
"My Lord..."
Brynden's voice was husky.
He argued no more. Instead, he dropped to one knee, hand over his heart.
"Brynden Tully pledges his life to you!"
Edmure looked at his uncle, feeling not a shred of jealousy, but immense relief.
He knew his own limits.
Being a peacetime lord was fine, but commanding armies against Tywin Lannister or Joffrey Baratheon terrified him.
Now that his uncle was taking charge, it couldn't be better.
He could happily slack off.
"House Tully fully supports Lord Lynn's decision!"
Edmure immediately declared his stance.
Bronze Yohn Royce was silent for a moment, then nodded slowly.
He had heard of the Blackfish's reputation during his years guarding the Bloody Gate.
Having him assist Robb was indeed the best choice available.
"The Vale has no objections."
Seeing the consensus, Lynn nodded with satisfaction.
"As for the Iron Islands,"
Lynn's gaze returned to the map, landing on the barren islands off the west coast.
"Balon Greyjoy is a fool who won't get up early without profit, but he's not an idiot."
"My lightning strike on the Eyrie and the bloodbath at the Twins have scared the wits out of him."
"Without absolute certainty, he won't dare make a move."
"Besides, he doesn't have many days left to live."
"So, the defense of the South is entrusted to you all."
Lynn nodded to the assembly.
"I have only one request."
"Build defenses. Bring out those dragon-hunting scorpions Lysa built."
"Produce weapons and armor at full capacity. Clear out any internal threats within your houses."
"And, within a month, I want to see the first shipment of grain arrive at White Harbor."
"As you command, My Lord!"
Brynden and Yohn Royce responded in unison.
Looking at the harmonious scene, Lynn knew the situation in the South was settled.
He left his elite giant corps and White Walker guards in the Riverlands under Robb's command.
This was both a shield against the South and a sword hanging over everyone's heads.
If anyone dared to cause trouble at this critical juncture, Lynn wouldn't mind sending a Walker to personally escort that ambitious soul to the Seven Hells.
Let them reflect on their mistakes down there.
"Since the South is settled,"
Lynn's voice rang out again.
"It is time for me to return to the North."
"Return to the North?" Edmure was confused.
"The North still has traitors to clean up."
A cold killing intent flashed in Lynn's eyes.
"Roose Bolton."
"The Dreadfort."
When those two names left Lynn's lips, the temperature in the hall seemed to drop several degrees.
Every noble present paled.
House Bolton, the house that flayed men for sport.
They remembered then that this war wasn't truly over.
Bolton had openly betrayed Lynn.
Reason and emotion dictated that Lynn would not spare that treacherous house.
"I will personally wipe the Dreadfort from the map of Westeros."
"I will make the name Bolton a taboo more terrifying than Reyne."
"I will make their skins into saddles for my horses!"
Lynn's voice was calm.
But the content made everyone's skin crawl.
They didn't doubt for a second that he would do it.
They could already imagine the Dreadfort running with blood, echoing with screams.
Just as Lynn was about to dismiss the meeting and prepare for departure...
A maester of Riverrun rushed into the hall.
Panic was on his face as he held up a scroll sealed with black wax.
"Lord Lynn! Urgent message!"
The maester ran to Lynn and presented the scroll.
Everyone's heart leaped into their throat.
Had Tywin marched?
Lynn took the scroll, glancing at the seal.
It wasn't the Lion of Lannister, nor the Rose of Tyrell.
It was a flayed man, hung upside down.
The sigil of the Dreadfort, House Bolton!
A collective gasp filled the hall.
Roose Bolton had already betrayed Lynn once. How dare he send a messenger now?
Who gave him the courage?
Lynn's expression didn't change.
Calmly, he broke the seal and unrolled the parchment, which emitted a faint scent of blood.
There were no words on the paper.
Only a piece of perfectly tanned... human skin.
In the center of the skin, drawn in blood, was a crude smiley face.
Eerie, and utterly provocative.
"Heh."
Lynn let out a soft chuckle.
He tossed the skin onto the table as if it were trash.
He looked up, scanning the terrified lords, his smile as bright as ever.
"It seems Lord Bolton can't wait to offer me his skin."
He turned and walked toward the exit.
"Roslin."
Roslin Frey, standing quietly in the corner, trembled and hurried to follow him.
"Come with me to Winterfell."