The Starks were about to reach Riverrun, and the Tully family prepared for their welcome. Hoster stood at the main gate, sending off his grand host. Brynden was beaming with joy, as if yesterday's victory over Hoster had validated his entire life. He hugged Edmure, thanking him for his relentless training.
"Nephew, are we really not going to inform the Starks about Lyanna's fate?"
"What is there to talk about? Are you so naive as to think that a young woman will listen to elders about her choice in love? If Father could convince her, I would petition the Iron Throne to declare him the patron saint of all parents."
"Manners, boy," Hoster interrupted. "Don't forget: during the wedding, I run the show. You stay behind me."
"Yes, yes. Why don't you marry the Stark boy then? Even Catelyn is not this excited. I think me marrying many times in the future is a good opportunity for you to show off your host."
"Shut up. But we will inform the Starks; after all, Catelyn is marrying into their family. I don't expect them to believe me, but at that point, we will have done all we can. Plus, such a spark could cement the rebellion poetically. Otherwise, what would the bards sing? That some old guys exploited the fact that the Targaryens had few men and banded together to bully them? My conscience won't allow me that."
Hoster thought that after yesterday's loss, he no longer needed to hide his scheming from Brynden. 'No matter who wins, I will never lose', he mused.
"Are you really not going to lead the knights? It would help you cement your position in the eyes of the Westerosi nobility," Brynden said, rolling his eyes and not wanting to linger on the fact that his entire life had been manipulated. He changed the subject for today's ride. Edmure had declined the position of leading the center, choosing instead the left men-at-arms group. Brynden still tried to persuade him.
"It would violate protocol. These knights represent the absolute bedrock of Father's power. His heir messing with them for no reason sets a bad precedent."
With that, the men rode out. Brynden had the elder Lord Grell with him leading the knights in the center. They rode in no particular order, but their zeal was plenty to face the Northern host. Ser Desmond Grell held the right flank with his men-at-arms, looking forward to proving he had inherited his family's pedigree. Both his and Edmure's groups were arranged in large diamonds with smaller diamonds within. They intended to coordinate their movements with the unruly knights to project a zone of denial from the sides.
Soon, the contingent made contact with scouts from the North. Edmure determined their exact location using his Threat Detection perk. The Northern host was true to its name; they had deployed several decoys to confuse any would-be attackers. Life in the North has always been harsh, leaving its nobles all too familiar with the ways of survival. A Reach convoy would have been riding carelessly with banners flying high and boasts heard for miles; Edmure bypassed the decoys and set his course straight for the main host.
When both sides became aware of each other, tension rose. The rowdy men expressed their excitement with cheers, and Brynden let himself loose as if the other side were Maelys Blackfyre, the demon of men from his youth. It was in the War of the Ninepenny Kings that Brynden had seen the young Barristan Selmy cut through the ranks of the Golden Company to face that monster. The memories spurred him further, and he sounded the horns. The Tully knights broke formation and started the charge. Edmure and Desmond, however, controlled their groups to stay clear of the knights while making constant, small adjustments in formation. It was as if the same field held groups fighting from two different eras—one from the High Middle Ages and another from the Napoleonic Wars.
When the Starks realized the plan, they launched a counter-charge. Young men like Brandon Stark, Robert Baratheon, and Elbert Arryn broke from their ranks and rode forward. Veterans like Rickard Stark and Jon Arryn maintained their posture while directing stronger members to protect the youths. They banded together with their trusted veterans for a slower but much more terrifying charge. They, too, remembered the Stepstones and the last glorious war. The fever was so high that even Lyanna and Eddard felt the thrill. Lyanna replaced her mount with a destrier from a nearby rider and charged in. The groom, Eddard, not wanting his sister to come to any harm, rode by her side.
This was a magnificent display, not seen on the Westerosi mainland since the First Blackfyre Rebellion: full cavalry forces with nearly 2,000 participants in a frontal charge. The Starks, though numbering only around 300, felt no pressure from the larger enemy host. They charged without heed, as if victory were assured. Their assumption proved correct; Rickard and Jon concentrated on one side of the Tully force. Due to poor discipline, the Tully knights did not exploit their greater numbers, instead concentrating in the center.
As a result, when Rickard suddenly wheeled to one side, the Tullys could not react. They focused on the younger group, particularly Robert Baratheon. The young Lord of the Stormlands had an aura of charisma that drew in both friends and foes. His frame and mount were larger than most, and his voice the loudest. To be fair, the Riverlands, Stormlands, and Iron Isles share a deep history. All see each other as foes from childhood stories, wanting to best one another and claim suzerainty over the Isles, Rivers, and Storms. The Baratheon banner, the stag, was taken from an older family, House Durrandon, who once ruled parts of the Trident. Hence, the Riverlanders had a more natural response to their eastern cousins than to the distant, stoic Starks.
Thankfully, the Stark counterattack was on Edmure's side. He noticed the movement and steered his men-at-arms. Another kind of horn sounded across the field—unlike the knights' brazen blasts, these were short, rapid peeps. The entire left flank started moving. Edmure took his subunit closer to the Tully knights, ready to reinforce them at contact, while the rest of his company rode quicker due to their lighter armor and formed a crescent wrapping around Rickard Stark's men. They maintained the formation without making contact, yet could threaten the entire team at a moment's notice. Jon Arryn looked at the sudden movement and read the plan like a veteran chess player.
Seeing that their gambit would not work, Rickard sounded a horn to stop the charge. Brynden also stopped his men while he rode ahead to meet the overzealous Baratheon. Amidst the cheers of both sides, Brynden and Robert exchanged blows. Brynden decided to save the guest's face and adopted Edmure's fighting style. He traded blows with precision, winning just enough to make it look like a tie. Not wanting to lose, Robert dismounted and reached for his warhammer. Brynden obliged with a sword and shield, taking a defensive posture. Seeing this, the veterans from the Stark side glanced at each other, surprised to see that Brynden had improved so much. After a hearty duel, both groups rode together toward the castle.