Hooves struck the muddy road, splashing dirt and water as Solomon pulled his reins tight and looked back toward the surging Green Fork in the distance.
The Riverlands really were no good place to live. Wind blew through from every direction. Enemies could come from anywhere.
Any lord with even a little strength could use the web of rivers to bring men straight to your doorstep.
And for the Ironborn on their longships, it was even worse. These rivers were not obstacles. They were highways.
But what gnawed at Solomon most was a strange, unfamiliar anxiety tightening his chest. Everything had slipped beyond his control, and that lit a cold anger in him.
A storm was raging outside his lands, and for the first time he felt like an ordinary Westerosi man, just another rock being beaten by the waves.
In his memory, there had never been an Ironborn invasion on this scale. Two or three thousand raiders crossing Seagard and rampaging through the Riverlands should have been enough to throw half the region into chaos and fire.
Had his arrival changed things this much? Had the butterfly already flapped its wings?
He turned the matter over at speed.
Maybe things were not as bad as they looked. Reinforcements from the crownlands would surely come soon. The knights of the Vale were only separated by the Moonstone Mountains. The North would not sit and watch either.
By the time he returned to the Lion's Den, even the cold stone walls could not calm him down.
He stripped off his gloves and tossed them onto the table with obvious irritation, then began pacing back and forth through the council hall.
Olivier, Brin, and Rosso stood quietly and watched their lord, feeling the tension rolling off him in waves.
His boots struck the stone floor in a dull, regular rhythm, almost like it was beating against their nerves one by one.
Then Solomon stopped.
He came to a halt in front of the map and stared at the section representing his lands, the stretch pressed close against the Moonstone Mountains.
His brow furrowed.
Wait.
Why was he panicking?
The thought cut through the confusion like lightning.
The sky might be falling, but someone taller would be holding it up.
If the Ironborn fleet pushed into the Trident, the first men they would face would be the Tullys of Riverrun, the Freys of the Crossing, the Blackwoods, the Brackens, and only after that would they reach him in the deep interior.
The old houses that had ruled the Riverlands for centuries should be the Ironborn's real targets.
As for him, he had little fame and humble origins, but he had the Moonstone Mountains at his back. There were five new military towns there, his stockpiled supplies, and his most loyal farmer soldiers.
Strike from the mountains, or retreat into them and hold. He had something no one else in the Riverlands possessed.
Depth.
Real strategic depth.
Once he understood that, the anxiety on him vanished at once.
What replaced it was a steady, hard calm.
He turned, let his gaze sweep over the room, and spoke in a low voice that carried the weight of command.
"Where is Evelyn?"
"Bring her here. Lushen too. Everyone. Council hall, now."
Soon, everyone important in the Lion's Den had gathered.
Evelyn, Olivier, Brin, Lushen, Rosso Brun. They all looked at Solomon, who had already regained his composure, and each of them wore some trace of confusion.
Solomon gave no explanation. He tapped the map on the table with one finger.
"War is coming. But not our war."
He looked first at Olivier.
"Olivier, you've done well. Grain is our backbone."
"At once, arrange for every sack of grain we have to be moved into the mountains and distributed to the five military towns."
"Fast. Quietly."
Olivier bowed at once, then added, "Rest assured, my lord. The Seven really have blessed us. If I'd not been sent out to buy grain before the Ironborn came, then..."
He smiled toward the others.
"With what we'd already purchased, our stores will last more than half a year."
His expression sharpened with satisfaction.
"The reason House Valpin chased me was because the grain I bought from them was nearly half their own six-month supply."
Solomon nodded.
That only gave him more confidence. He turned to Lushen, who handled his links with the military towns.
"Lushen, tell every military town to start work immediately."
"I need the most practical defenses they can build, and I need them fast."
Solomon pressed a hand to his forehead and thought it through.
The mountain fortifications had all been built from local materials, but many structures were still simple wooden builds. He had thought time was on his side and had not focused enough on this. That was a mistake.
"Have every smallfolk in the military towns get moving. Gather rolling stones, sharpen logs, make traps, replace wood with stone wherever we can to reinforce the forts."
"I want every peak turned into a natural fortress the Ironborn can't bite through or climb over."
His hand drifted to the sword at his waist.
"While the people are working the fields, make them leave their armor and weapons right on the ridges."
"They need to be ready for the levy at any moment."
Lushen's eyes flared with fighting spirit.
"By your command, Lord Solomon!"
Then Solomon turned to Rosso Brun, the newest knight in his service.
"Rosso, it's time for my riders to get moving."
"Pick out the quickest and sharpest-eyed among them and put them in light armor."
"Send them east and south along the Green Fork. I want eyes on every movement."
"Set signal fires along the river. If anything happens, light them at once and pass the warning down the line. I want to know about the Ironborn before they ever set foot on our land."
Rosso placed a hand over his chest and answered at once.
"Understood, my lord."
At last Solomon looked at Brin.
"Brin, go to Cross Town and Riverbend Town. Work with Lushen and Barna to draw up the most detailed evacuation plan possible."
"The moment the signal fires go up, every townsman must pull back into the five mountain towns according to the routes we set."
This place was complete garbage, Solomon thought darkly, and the look in his eyes turned colder.
He gritted his teeth.
"I'll say this again. If it comes to that day, not a single grain of food gets left behind. Not one thing for the Ironborn."
The room had gone completely still.
His words were so decisive, so tightly organized, that everyone understood what he meant.
If the worst came, he was ready to abandon the plains entirely and hold the mountain heartland.
Only the crackle of charcoal in the brazier broke the silence.
Then Solomon turned to Lushen and gave the order that shocked everyone in the room.
"Lushen."
"Yes, my lord!"
"After you've notified the towns, go to Cross Town and Riverbend Town and recruit four hundred able-bodied men from the new settlers."
"Give them weapons and send them immediately to Deddington Castle to help Lady Roslin hold the fortress."
The room erupted at once.
Olivier spoke quickly.
"My lord, we should wait for Lady Roslin's request."
"Or at least..."
He hesitated, then pushed on.
"We can find reasons to delay. The Ironborn have invaded. Protecting ourselves should come first."
From his point of view, it made perfect sense. In Westeros, when a house was in danger, it should naturally look after itself first. No one could blame them for that.
Solomon raised a hand and cut off the discussion.
He looked around the room at their confused faces and explained.
"There is nothing people remember more clearly than being helped when they are at their most desperate."
"If we send soldiers on our own initiative, before Lady Roslin even asks, that loyalty, that goodwill..."
"How many gold dragons could buy that?"
As he spoke, a faint smile appeared.
"And besides, does Deddington still have the nerve to ask for the rest of my men after this?"
"Our core strength, the veterans who fought alongside us, must stay in the mountains to protect our foundation."
The others finally understood.
He turned back to Lushen, now stern and direct.
"Lushen, take those four hundred men to Deddington Castle. Listen carefully."
"Your job is not to fight the Ironborn to the death. Your job is to make the castle look stronger. Make their banners look more numerous."
"Stay in the back. Shout when needed. Do not charge first."
"Tell the new men this: I will take care of their families. Their grain and coins will not be cut by a single copper."
"But if anyone dares run on the road, the collective punishment will apply."
He paused, then lowered his voice a little, worried the man might not understand.
"If it comes to it..."
"Run."
Lushen stared at him for a long moment and then nodded hard.
"I understand, Lord Solomon."
When the orders were finally handed out and everyone left, only Solomon and Evelyn remained in the council hall.
The room felt different all at once.
Solomon looked at Evelyn, standing quietly beside the table, and gave an awkward little smile.
"Evelyn, one last thing..."
"Write a letter for me to Lady Rona of Deep Gorge."
"Tell her not to leave the castle. Tell her to strengthen the defenses immediately and stockpile food and water."
"And make sure she stays away from the river districts. The Ironborn fleets move fast. She must not be careless."
He suddenly felt as though he were asking his secretary to write a love letter for his mistress.
Evelyn said nothing.
She simply stepped to the table, spread out a sheet of parchment, dipped the quill in ink, and got to work.
When she was done, she lifted her head and blew the letter dry.
Her eyes met Solomon's, and there was a faint, amused look in them.