Wild Wolf 11 In the face of the northern wings, castles too can crumble
Ander Clegane was an old weasel sort of man, a branch member of that family and had served as the Mountain's castellan and seneschal for years. Gregor was not a man who understood how to truly take care of a castle or manage land, so Ander survived in the Mountain's service because he was small, unassuming, un-threatening, and completely sycophantic. He was utterly loyal to the Lannisters, since part of his survival was based off Tywin's protection.
The castle of the former hound masters of the Lannisters was set on the southeastern edge of the Westerlands, not quite on the border with the Reach but close enough. It made an excellent staging area, close enough to rapidly deploy to the defense of the Westerlands along that border or as an offensive force.
Lord Lannister knew the value of having specific tools to do specific jobs, and had slowly invested over the years in a large band of men who had come to be called The Mountain's Men, who were of similar disposition to him. Like the Brave Companions they could handle the more atrocious jobs and could also give Lord Lannister plausible deniability later on. After all Gregor had been a monster and monsters often slipped their leashes. Only a few of those men had ridden with the Mountain to the Tourney of the hand. Those few of course died in King's Landing to the mobs after Ranma slaughtered Gregor, but this left the majority still around to cause carnage.
Indeed those were the orders Ander was following now, that had set these men on the march into the Reach and to lands held by House Rowan several weeks ago. 'Burn, pillage, rape, make a nuisance of yourselves. Avoid any set battle with larger forces, instead harry, harass, burn, keep on the move. Bring the horror of war to the Reach as much as possible before you are forced to retreat'. That, these men, these two thousand barely human monsters would do gleefully, as the line of smoke in the sky behind them attested to.
Nor was this the only group sent out from the Westerlands to raid the Reach. While Tywin did not employ many mercenary companies save those who could perform deeds he would like to have plausible deniability for, he retained one company from Tyrosh, a band of free riders that were more organized and better led than most.
This company, consisting of nearly another two thousand men, moved down the Ocean Road from Crakehall into the Reach from that direction. They were backed by men of House Turnberry and Greenfield, another eight hundred archers and a little over a hundred scouts. Their job was to either sack any keep or holdfast which they felt was too weak to hold them out, or wait in ambush for any force sent out against the former Mountain's men. The decision of which order to follow was left up to the commander, Ser Prester.
OOOOOOO
The camp sitting on the outskirts of the city of the Whispering Woods wasn't large, about eighty armsmen, three knights and two hundred archer. Over the main tent flew the banner of House Grell, a blue shield split by a diagonal white line with three red birds. A knightly house, they had long been loyal followers of House Tully, just as House Paege was known to be, hence why the camp's guards merely waved Ser Harmon, head of that house, and his party of ten men through when they rode up.
House Paege too had mustered their forces. They were waiting in Fairmarket but Halmon had ridden out to meet with House Grell, wanting to confer on what they should do before marching out.
It was interesting Ser Hartwick Grell thought to himself as he studied the ten men dismounting from their horses, that not one of those men is one of his son-in-laws, or even his grandsons. That said something about the house's interior disposition, and it wasn't good. "Halmon," he said aloud, grasping the other man's forearm warmly. "Are you ready to receive us in Fairmarket?"
Fairmarket was a town on the Blue Fork, the waypoint of trade between Seagard and the rest of the Riverlands. It was small, but growing slowly and its defenses were also growing. Paege had originally been a knightly house, but thanks to Fairmarket continuing to slowly grow, they might achieve lordly status in a generation or two more.
"Aye, I am," The other man said. He was a knight and retained both the body and the training of said, much like his counterpart. Both were hard, tough men, who had fought against the traitors that followed House Targaryen rather than their Lord Paramount in the War of the Usurper despite their own misgivings, and again against the Ironborn when they tried to invade the Ironman's Bay, serving under Lord Mallister. "But I have other matters to speak of."
Ser Grell groaned. "What's gone wrong now?" There'd been so many things going wrong that it was an easy assumption to make.
"I know not what maggot has infested his brain, but Bruce Nayland has declared his house for Lord Renly!"
For a moment Hartwick simply looked at him blankly. Nayland was a knightly house much like his own, but even weaker considering that they held the lands of the Hags Mire, a large everglade that was the end of the Blue Fork, with many of its source tributaries feeding out of the glades. It was a small weak area in terms of men and food it could produce or support and the power of the knightly house in control of it reflected that. They could barely put a hundred men, at best two hundred men into the field, and most of those would be untried levies.
What bothered Hartwick however was the fact that they were declaring for Renly Baratheon rather than simply stating they wouldn't take any side. That he could understand, indeed for most of the minor houses that stance would be sensible, especially in a situation like this when no one really knew which side was in the right, whatever they may say publicly. But to declare for a Lord Paramount not of the Riverlands and one without a good legal claim to the throne, that was bizarre. "By the Stanger what is Bruce thinking!"
"I don't know if he is thinking." Halmon growled. "The Naylands have never been known for their ability to plan ahead, but the young firebrand that is their head of house now is even worse. I think he met Renly once at a tournament or something, and that seems to be enough for him."
"Enough for what, to raise his house in arms against their Lord Paramount, to ignore all oaths of loyalty and fealty?" Hartwick said incredulously. "Fool."
"True." Halmon replied, shaking his head then looking around before speaking in a lower tone. "In truth, I would prefer to not take the field against the Lannisters either. I do not believe Lord Edmure or Lord Stark committed treason, but there are so many differing reports of what really went on in King's Landing that I can't tell which is false and which is true."
By this point Renly, the Queen's and Stannis's version of events in King's Landing had begun to spread along with rumors, which were the only things faster than raven wings. Lord Renly was declaring that the children of the queen were all illegitimate, though he did not know their father. He had information from the maesters to back it up, notes from a genealogy study that showed that every time the Lannisters and Baratheons married, the boys took after the Baratheon line. There was no specific message about the female offspring of those unions but that could have simply been an oversight of the genealogists.
Stannis had taken it a step further. He had declared and sent messages out both on horseback and by raven stating that all three of the royal children had been the kingslayer's sons, that Cersei had committed incest with her brother. That was so beyond the pale that none would have believed it, yet it was coming from Stannis. Stern, dour and lacking in people skills he might be, but every lord who had met the man knew Stannis was not one to spread such rumors. Not unless he had proof. Though few were prepared yet to say they believed it, no one was willing to say they didn't either.
Then of course there was the Queen's version, wherein Lord Stark of all people had made a play for the crown in conjunction with Targaryen loyalists, dragging in Edmure as well. That made no sense to anyone who had met Eddard or even knew anything of his character. Yet it was fact that the victors won the right to make the histories, and at first even those most loyal to House Tully were prepared to believe it. After all, Edmure wasn't known for his forward thinking, and could easily have been led into folly.
But that was where rumors began to come in. Rumors which said Lord Stark had survived. Rumors that said his son had returned from a mission to Essos then rescued Sansa Stark singlehandedly before retreating to the sea. That before he had retreated, Lord Stark had stated that the queen was a traitor, and that it was his proof Renly was mouthing.
Muddying that further was the fact that everyone agreed the Starks had opened their arms to Tommen and Myrcella, the two youngest of the three royal children. If they were illegitimate, then surely the Starks wouldn't have been willing to do that, right? And surely Lord Tully would never have sent so many men to the Starks if he had any idea they were going to commit treason? So no one really knew what to believe, but thanks to their lord Paramount's orders to follow their conscience, every house was doing just that.
"I would've said the same if not for this. It was passed on to me from Riverrun. I'm probably the first to see it." Hartwick replied, holding up a small raven message. He handed it over to the other man who took it, read it then smiled grimly.
"Interesting. "Halmon said simply while handing it back, but he shook his head. "Still, I have the defense of Fairmarket to see to and that limits the amount of men I can send into the field."
"Bah, combined we don't have enough men to make any difference in a straight up battle against the Lannisters. Let that to the Noble Houses, they're apparently planning something over at the Kneeling Man's ford. Rather poetic frankly, if they can pull it off." Hartwick smirked.
Lord Paege barked a laugh then shook his head again. "I was going to say that we shouldn't field any forces against them, but we can match Nayland."
"Yes," Ser Grell said nodding his head grimly. "We can put Naylands back in their place, and guard Fairmarket. With its defenses and my own men added to yours we should be able to hold out until help arrives from Lord Mallister."
They both knew was true. House Mallister was one of the five most powerful houses in the Riverlands, but Jason Mallister had even more area he needed to defend. Not a single Riverlands lord was under any misapprehension of what the Ironborn would be doing in this time of calamity. As such Lord Mallister couldn't field his entire force. He had to keep some at home to defend Seagard, and had to keep some to go to the aid of any of the small villages in the Cape of Eagles. There weren't many of them, and they were all decently protected, but not one of them could call on more than five or six-hundred defenders even if it called up its entire male population.
As such Lord Mallister had sent word he was putting a force of three thousand men, mostly infantry and archers into the field. This let him his heavy and light infantry, and he had enough horse to add to their speed which would allow him to better protect the Cape of Eagles. His son Patrek led them marching down the Green Fork around Hags Mire before marching to Fairmarket on the Blue Fork which was not only a village but also the site of a bridge across that river. Once that force reached Fairmarket it would be a far harder nut to crack, one that even Lord Tywin would probably try to bypass rather than fight.
"But you have issues of your own." Grell went on obliquely looking at the men who were watering their horses behind Lord Paege. A few of his own men were coming out with bowls of hot stew and field bread for them, but they wouldn't tarry long before turning around with his own force to continue the march. They would be at Fairmarket within three days if they kept up their current pace.
Paege grimaced and nodded reluctantly. "I, I've been displeased with my sons-in-law for a while now. But this current business has brought that to the fore. Both Whalen and Jammos think we should follow Lord Frey's 'suggestion' and either remain neutral or join with the Lannisters." He scowled angrily. "Damn Freys, wouldn't know honor if it bit them in the ass!"
Hartwick laughed, shaking his head. "I'm just glad none of mine' are married into that damn family. Your daughters?"
"Somewhat fond of their husbands, but there's been some issues there with how they are training their children and how much time they and the boys spend up at the Twins." He shrugged. "They won't be happy with their husbands being restrained, but they will understand."
The problem was Old Walder Frey had been around so long, and been so… profligate that his sons had married into dozens of other lordly houses, but all of them were far more loyal to him then to their new houses. The Paeges were not alone in facing this issue, but they might be one of the worst off. Halmon had three sons and two daughters. Both daughters had married Freys, the thirteenth and fourteenth sons of Old Walder both of whom were very much their father's creature.
Also unfortunately, none of his sons had married just yet, his refusal to take a Frey as a daughter as well as a son-in-law into his house making that tougher. There were a few other marriageable age girls, but some of them were spoken for already, and for the others, the houses had turned down his proposals. Despite controlling Fairmarket House Paege was still a knightly house, not a lordly one, which hurt his prospects.
His oldest daughter Sallei had three sons, and had two miscarriages besides them. His other daughter Sylwa had one son and a daughter. Hoster was a likely lad, and had already agreed to squire for Halmon's youngest Garett when he was knighted in two years. Jammos' three had been sent up to the Twins or other Frey supporters to Hoster, and come back changed. All three of them were likely to follow Jammos rather than Halmon despite Halmon being their head of house.
"I'm going to arrest them all if they keep pushing." Halmon went on quietly as the camp broke up around them and the men began to move.
Hartwick clambered up into his saddle beside his friend and nodded grimly. "Want some help with that?"
"No." Halmon replied, shaking his head. This is an internal family matter, and I hope to imprison them without further bloodshed."
Hartwick nodded his head, hoping it went as well as the other man wished.
Three days later they arrived back at Fairmarket. Fairmarket was a town of around three or four thousand souls, though it had swelled thanks to the current troubles up to six or seven thousand due to refuges from down past the Red Fork.
Lord Lannister's forces were not being kind as he marched over the Riverlands, unless the Lord of the land they were currently on bent the knee. More than a few had, but that hadn't saved their neighbors. Luckily only the Stone Mill and Mummer's fords were under Lannister control, allowing men to come across at the Kneeling Man's ford to make their way to Fairmarket or other castles, begging for aid and protection. There were also other groups here from the lands of other lords who had sent them here to get them out of the way.
House Paege's keep was a simple two-story keep made of stone set into the side of the outer wall of the village. That wall showed how Fairmarket was slowly changing. Where before it had been a simple wooden palisade now there was a wall made of stone along that entire side, with the stone continuing on until it reached the two towers, both new constructions, set near the river. The other side still retained its wooden palisade, and the two towers were still being built, but it was a decent defensive position.
Halmon's oldest son Robert rode out from the keep to meet them. After exchanging pleasantries with both older men he became grim. "Word has arrived from the Twins. By order of the crown, Lord Tully is going to be stripped of his Lord Paramount status if he does not send orders to get the Noble houses under control. According to the Freys, the Lannisters wish to name Lord Frey as the new Lord Paramount of the Riverlands. They aren't going to just yet, not until this present conflict is over, but that's a major carrot to tempt Old Walder with. It's made my brothers-in-law even more strident in their demands that we follow Lord Frey's suggestions."
Robert spat the words 'brothers-in-law' having never liked either man, even if he couldn't figure out if they were abusing their wives or not. Keeping them pregnant was dangerous and debilitating to them, but that wasn't abuse, not quite. Certainly not enough for him to take umbrage against anyway.
Halmon growled angrily. "It seems I have no choice. Will you be all right keeping your men out here for another hour or so my friend?" he said turning to Hartwick. "It seems I have to clean house before offering you hospitality."
Hartwick nodded and the two Paeges turned. With their men following them they rode ahead to their small keep. Inside they quickly dismounted, handing their horses over to one of the stable-hands before moving into the keep proper. Robert broke off there, heading into the first story barracks to alert the men of coming trouble while Halmon moved on inside up to the families private suites.
He was making for his office where he would call his sons-in-law in along with his grandsons, but was accosted on the trip by the oldest of them. Jammos was broad shouldered, fair-haired and pleasant to look upon, but that pleasantness only ran skin deep. He was a true son of Old Walder, who thought himself intelligent and brave beyond what he truly was. "Father." he said, making that word a mockery almost, and Halmon noted absently he had a sword strapped to his side. "We have to talk. No doubt you've already heard but…"
"I have heard. Halmon said interrupting him. But my answer remains the same. "I am sworn to Lord Tully, not your father and certainly not Lord Lannister. My Lord asked me to act in the way my conscience dictates, and I will do so. I will not side with you Freys or the Lannisters. That is an end to it. If you keep on pushing this, I'll have no choice but to place both you and your brother under arrest."
The man shrugged as if it was no moment turning away only to come back, his sword flashing out of its scabbard. "In that case, I think it's time for House Paege to have a new Lord."
Halmon stumbled back astonished but still pulling out his own blade and blocking the younger man's thrust. "Traitor!" he bellowed, parrying and sending Jammos backward, before the two began to trade blows there in the hallway of his own keep. The noise of that conflict seemed to be a signal because suddenly all around them noises of battle began flared up from within the keep.
The younger man grunted, not showing any of his strain in his voice. The older man had surprised him by his speed and strength, but then again this was the first time they'd faced one another sword to sword, the older man disdaining tournaments. His father's orders however had been very specific. House Paege was to come over to their side, securing Fairmarket for the Lannisters before the Mallister force arrived.
Though Jammos didn't know it, Lord Walder was playing a long game. With Fairmarket and its crossing secure, the Lannister could then march up to the twins along the Blue Fork, smashing the Mallister forces out of their way to link up with the Freys before closing down that neck to anything from the North. Combined the Freys and the Lannister's first echelon would have enough strength to sit at the edge of the Neck where the Kingsroad entered it and fortify the position.
That was, if the North couldn't offer the Freys more than the Lannisters could or at least match them. Lord Frey wasn't about to risk his own troops until he was assured of gaining something. The Lannister's promises weren't worth the paper they were written on, enough for him to put his armsmen into the field, but not enough to actually order them into battle, not without some solid assurances.
Playing both sides against one another's was simply good sense according to Old Walder. He was a realist, and knew that many of his fellow Riverlands lords would look upon him askance for being elevated to Lord Paramount by the Lannisters, regardless of anything else, so was willing to listen to other offers, especially if they were more solid. After all, Ranma Stark was as yet unmarried, and there were the other Stark children to consider. (Needless to say certain tidbits of news had not reached very far just yet…)
Jammos frowned, backing away from the old man as Halmon pushed their locked blades closer to his chest, then broke the lock before trying a lightning thrust. But Halmon ducked to one side, his own sword coming up slicing deep into the younger man's arm. Jammos screamed, but that was all he had time for before his father-in-law's blade took him in the chest punching through his leather armor and out his back in a welter of blood.
Staring down at his son-in-law's body Halmon shook his head. "Stranger Damned Freys!" He then turned his attention to the battle at hand racing towards the largest concentration of noise.
He came upon his other son-in-law and two of James's three sons, fighting his own son Damon four on one there in the halls. Damon fell as Halmon approached, his leg pierced by a blade from one of his nephews. "Damn you!" he cried. We're family! Why?!"
The boy who'd stabbed him, Mathis, backed away, looking down at his blade almost as if he didn't know why he was holding it for a moment shocked at the sight of his uncle bleeding from a blow from him, but Whalen moved forward his sword rising for a blow to finish Damon off. "That's precisely why we're doing this, family!" he sneered. "It's just House Frey is much more worth following than House Paege as it is now!"
Halmon barreled into them, slamming Whalen against the wall behind him as his own blade flicked out slamming one of the younger boys backwards from a blow from the side of his sword to the side. Walder grimaced in pain but he and Dickon recovered quickly, swords rising to attack their grandfather.
But around them the men-at-arms of house Paege were rallying. Jammos had brought back ten men with him from the twins on his latest return home. He and his sons had long known that battle might occur inside house Paege to determine who they would follow and they were all determined to win. However, the men that Halmon had taken out with him to meet with Ser Grell had been just as prepared for violence when they got back. As Halmon fought his family, with his son Damon once more on his feet protecting his back, his men rallied in the rest of the keep, cutting down the traitors in their midst.
Several blows were exchanged further when Sylwa's son Hoster raced out of their suite of rooms further down the hallway. He was crying, and at eleven was the youngest boy there, but he held a blade in his hand, a gift from Halmon on his last birthday that his mother had taken control of when Hoster was not training with his uncles. Outside of practicing young boys often thought that once they had a blade in their hands they ruled the world after all, and Sylwa had views on her little boy wielding a weapon in that manner.
"You bastards!" Hoster shouted as he came. "You killed her, you killed my mother!"
Halmon's heart went cold at those words and looking into Whalen's eyes he saw the truth of it. "Why?" he said his voice of alloy of grief and rage. "Why!"
"The bitch would've warned you." The younger man growled, pushing back at against the older man's sword. "I refuse to let you bring this whole family down with you. Fairmarket is mine!" Actually, it would have been Jammos', but the younger Whalen had no illusions on what he would or would not do to gain control of the village.
Hoster slammed into Dickon and Walder, losing his sword in the impact but bearing the two larger boys, almost man at 16, to the ground. Both of them raised their swords to cut him down, but he was inside their grip, and his belt dagger flew stabbing frenziedly. Dickon screamed as it first found his side, then his guts.
Seeing his brother dying on the floor under his cousin , Mathis came out of his funk. He plunged his blade into the younger boy's back killing him instantly.
Halmon howled, and Damon, grief stricken, cut Mathis down before bringing his blade around to finish off Walder. Walder ducked rolling on the floor to dodge the blow, flinging his own blade up to slice into Damon's unarmored side. Damon slumped against the hallway's wall, gasping from the pain. With that done, Walder turned to help his father with Halmon his face almost blank.
Robert and several armsmen arrived at that point and looked in horror at the scene in front of them. Robert had been about to demand his brother-in-law's surrender, but seeing the bodies on the floor his own brother and the bodies of his nephews down he simply roared and charged. Not two minutes later it was all over, with both Walder and Whalen chopped down to join the others.
After ordering Robert to organize his armsmen to remove the bodies in the hallway and send for a maester for Damon, who still breathed, Halmon moved down the hallway. Passing Hoster's body he stopped momentarily to close the boy's wide, staring eyes, his own brown eyes filled with tears of grief. "Brave lad, you deserved better than this."
Leaving that scene of carnage, Halmon moved on. He soon reached the suites that Hoster had come from and looked inside. It was a small family suite like many found in castles the world over, one master bedroom, one child's bedroom set to the side, and the main sitting area. In the sitting area Sylwa, his youngest daughter, lay dead on the floor, her neck broken.
Halmon didn't know what happened here, and likely never would since his men hadn't taken any prisoners. But he supposed that Hoster had been ordered to remain in his room while his parents argued only to come out when he heard the sound of battle out in the hallway to find his mother like this.
"Brave boy. "Halmon said, his voice gruff as he went to one knee by his daughters body, not having the heart right then to check on his other daughter, somehow knowing she too would be dead. Both of his daughters had been very loyal to their family, and would never have agreed to go against him, their father. "Brave boy and loyal too, the only one of them who knew what honor was. I should've never let the others foster where they did! No, I should've never agreed to let those two into my house at all! I'm sorry…" he said to the body of his youngest daughter "I'm sorry. Damn Freys, Stranger damned Freys!"
OOOOOOO
A group of 20 men on horseback moved through the woods several hours in front of the main force of the Lannister forces. All of them were wearing the colors of the Westerlands House of Jast. These men were assigned to scout out the route ahead of the army. All of them were veterans and knew the troubles similar parties had run into before so rode with one hand on their swords and both eyes wide open, scanning the trees.
They would've done better to also have been watching where their horses were walking. As the first horses in the small party passed between two larger oaks there were two men covered with leaves and branches hidden among the roots of those trees. Barely able to see from under the leaves, the two men nodded slightly to one another, the rustling of their covering lost in the tramp of hooves on the ground. As the first horses came level with them both men tugged hard on a rope that lay between them. Snapping taut, the rope rose up out of the grass where it had been hidden to catch the second pair of legs on the two horses.
Those horses stumbled, the action taking the attention of all of the scouts for just a moment, which proved deadly. Out of the woods from all around them arrows flew, and suddenly the group of fifteen was down to five. Those five men at the back of the party turned and tried to race away, but seven men, all of them wearing dark green colors, purposefully dirtied leather Jerkins with bits of leaves stuck here and there, the better to blend in, suddenly popped up, spears raised and slamming up into the riders, piercing their leather armor and smashing them out of their saddles.
Two more men came out of the woods wielding short swords that had been purposefully darkened and oiled to make no sound as they came out of their scabbards. Moving methodically through the downed men they slit throats while also taking the dead men's pouches. Their leaders didn't care if they looted the corpses of the enemy, so long as it was the enemy dead, not their own.
Suddenly an owl, a nocturnal hunter hooted, causing all the men there to look up into the woodlands towards the sound. This signal followed by four more hoots. At that signal they all quickly faded back into the woods, racing off and away from the ambush point.
One of the men paused just a moment to pull out of his backpack a spare tabard. On it was a shield quartered with two squares of black with a white tower, and two squares of white with green dragons on them. "Blood for blood." He muttered, tossing it down onto one of the bodies before racing off into the woods.
OOOOOOO
Mules marched through what was formerly House Smallwood land, being led through the woods by men of House Lannister, along with twenty men of the Bloody Mummers guarding it. The Mummer's men were cocksure and not watching their surroundings, still full of themselves for the sacking of Acorn Hall. The Lannister men were paying attention but this wasn't their land. While they knew to look for movement in the woods, they couldn't spot an ambush point coming up in this strange land of large forests, hills, small streams, and glades. Their fellows had been paying for that lack of knowledge for several weeks now.
One of the men guarding the right flank of the small party paused quizzically, looking up into the trees.
"What?" said one of the others.
"I could've sworn I saw a red…"
That was as far as he got before an arrow seemed to grow out of his eye, splattering his fellow with his life's blood. The surviving man cried out in shock then screamed as an arrow found his side, his leather armor little protection against a heavy bodkin arrowhead, which punched deep into his gut.
What they lacked in actual martial ability or situational awareness the mercenaries made up for in survivor instincts. As one they all turned in the saddle, trying to race away through the woods. Instead they ran into more men, suddenly appearing from under bush or behind tree. Spears flashed up into their faces, short swords stabbed into their horse's bellies, and the men went down.
Tytos Blackwood, lord of House Blackwood, pulled his sword out of one of the mercenaries, leaning down to spit into the man's face before slitting his throat. "You've murdered your last child!" he growled, his face a mask of fury over his beard.
Raven feather cloak swirling ,Tytos stood up moving to his men and those of House Vance who had joined them for this ambush, a squad of five to add to his own twenty. Other groups like this were spread out all over Smallwood lands and many other houses that were on the route Lannister's men had followed up to this point. In times of peace that would be an act of aggression against those houses, but now Tytos and the Vance youngsters could not care less. Blackwood saw it as his duty to oppose the Lannister invaders, above and beyond not wishing to bow to a child of incest, while the remaining house Vance wished to avenge their cousins. "What were they transporting?"
"Flour and medicines on this one." Said one of the house Vance man, a youngster named Cliff Aleris, an archer and an excellent shot despite coming from a smallfolk family of farmers.
"Arrowheads and cured meat on this one." One of his own men said, an armsmen named Saros.
"We'll eat well tonight then." Tytos said laughing and slapping both of the men on their shoulders. "Now away. We'll keep moving for the rest of the day, we won't rest until deep night, I want us to put at least two of the small rivers between us."
Small rivers were the name of all the unnamed little brooks and inlets that dotted the Riverlands, whether or not they fit into larger bodies of water were not. No mapmaker had ever tried to name them all, you would have been able to see the land for the names.
They turned to their local guide, and armsmen of Smallwood who, like a few others had survived the battle of Acorn Hall. Terrence Corbeck decided to link up with the groups of raiders, taking bloody vengeance on the invading army for his home. Terrence nodded and led the way off through the woods while Tytos quickly organized the race through the woods, divvying out the spoils to his men. Little things here and there, he thought to himself, none of us have a strong enough spear to gore the lion, but even a lion can died from enough bee-stings.
OOOOOOO
Lord Tywin scowled, looking down at his map while around him his officers shuffled uncomfortably. Not normally one to allow irritation to show except under extreme circumstances, that he was doing so now was a sign of the trouble they had run into of late. Dammit, Hoster's move was even shrewder than I had feared. The Riverlands lords might not be capable generals in a pitched offensive, but little skirmishes and delaying actions, on their own ground? That they can do quite well apparently. Over six hundred men I've lost in the last week alone!
At first after the example of House Vance of Wayfarer's Rest, things had gone smoothly. The Lychesters had then bent the knee, a small House, they had known better than to try to fighting him.
The Goodbrooks were next, and had been very shrewd in how they had fought him for all of two days. They had set several small deadly ambushes for his scouts, killing two dozen of his men for little return, fading back into the woodlands and away from his army's angle of advance. That had ended when one of his nephews had set up an ambush of their own, riding their initial party of ambushers into the ground.
The Goodbrooks, a house that had never recovered from Hoster's retaliation against them for following the Targaryens, had lost both their lord which probably meant they were now extinct in the long run considering the only survivor of the house was a uncle who had married a Frey girl. Their keep, which had also been nearly demolished by Hoster along with the small village around it, was several days out of the way however. This plus the fact the he house was too poor to support his army in any way meant Tywin was willing to let him, his wife and their two children be since he surrendered and vowed to support the king.
Crossing the Red Fork had also been relatively easy. A small force out of Pinkmaiden including Lord Piper's heir Marq had tried to ambush his scouts, but been ambushed in turn. Apparently the young fool had been a friend of Edmure, and had acted without his father's approval in leading that attack.
With the heir captured, Lord Piper had negotiated for his return. Lord Piper was a shrewd character however, and had already evacuated everyone who was willing to leave the village of Mummer's Ford into his castle. Despite its idiotic name, Pinkmaiden was a hard nut to crack, a fully modern castle. The Pipers were also a decently strong noble house, with the numbers of armsmen on hand that title implied unlike house Vance of Wayfarer's Rest, which Tywin's economic moves had crippled over time.
From this position of strength, the agreement they reached was almost even. House Piper agreed not to support any attacks on Lord Lannister's forces as well as supply a force of two hundred scouts, and to keep Mummer's Ford open for Lannister traffic, with an agreement in the future to bend the knee once the 'position of the Riverlands in relation to the crown was less fluid'. In others words, Piper would bend the knee the moment doing so wouldn't set the majority of its neighbors on him.
In return, Tywin promised the honorable treatment of the other Piper men captured, and guaranteed his armies conduct while on Piper land, plus provender for two thousand to be paid from the village stores. In all House Piper had lost two-hundred-and-eleven men thanks to Marq's idiocy, but his father had saved their house for now and Lord Lannister had crossed at the Stone Mill's ford without further incident.
The geography of the Riverlands meant that on a straight line march, the fastest march he could do, up to the Neck meant he would have to cross the Red Fork again later on. The Red Fork, the slowest and most meandering of the three great rivers, made a half loop down from the mountains to where it intersected the other forks at the Trident.
But since that first crossing, his army had begun to take niggling losses here and there. Not a day went by on the march when some small group of scouts were not ambushed and when his scouts missed those ambushes his men on the march took losses as well. No one of any importance had died as yet, but fifteen light cavalry here, one or two knights there, a dozen infantrymen here, it added up.
Wiping out House Vance was a mistake I realize that now, Tywin thought. Yes, it sent the message I wanted to, but I should've realized that House Vance of Atranta would take it poorly.
Vance of Atranta was one of the three most powerful Riverlands houses of the on this side of the Red Fork. Led by an old blind man, Tywin had thought possibly too cautious to raise arms against him when he had the crown's approval, or barring that, the sons too young and untried. But that had not proven to be the case thus far.
But they surprised me. I thought that if they did they would try to stand up against my army in a straight up fight, possibly with Blackwood and other families of the region beside them. Ronald 'the Bad' isn't known for his martial ability after all. That way I could smash them in an open contest without being forced to root them out of their castles. Instead house Vance of Atranta seems to have put forth its strength in little ambush groups here and there.
Despite finding out that Acorn Hall and House Smallwood had fallen to a surprise attack by the Bloody Mummers, the attacks on his scouts but more importantly his supply train and line were telling. Of course that was because while Acorn Hall had been sacked, its stores had also gone up in the fire the Bloody Mummers set on the wooden keep.
Nor was there any sign of Lady Ravella Smallwood, or her daughter. Tywin had the ruins and the Bloody Mummer's camp searched in particular for any sign of them, having a description of both and no wish to let potentially important tools be ill-used by Hoat and his lackeys.
When it came clear to Tywin that the Smallwoods might have escaped the sacking of their keep, he had Hoat brought before him, then executed the man some called the Goat for gross incompetence and overstepping his bounds. One could have been excused without the other, but Hoat and his band were almost as bad as the men Tywin had collected to put under Gregor's command. They had to be shown there were limits. Moreover, Vargo had dared to speak to Tywin as if he was an equal. Such things could not be allowed to pass, but thankfully the Goat's execution seemed to have gotten his message across.
So despite his progress, Tywin was in danger of stalling here, which had forced him to consider an action he had hoped not to. He looked up, his face once more composed as Lord Bracken was shown into his tent.
Jonos Bracken was brown eyed man of Tywin's generation though not as tall as he, with broad shoulders and arms, a sign of his youth when he was a well-known wrestler. He wore plate and mail, with the tabard with the color of his house proudly displayed, a red horse one a yellow shield with a brown frame while he carried a great-helm with a horsehair crest under one arm.
"You will supply my men with the supplies they need." Tywin stated firmly. "If you do that I will aid you in destroying House Blackwood, as they have taken up arms against the crown. I will send a force from my second echelon to siege and take their castle in conjunction with your own men." Blackwood men had also been seen attacking Tywin's supply trains. Tywin internally wondered if Tytos Blackwood was the one who had shaped the Riverlander's strategy so far, it seemed far too intelligent to come from the oldest Vance boy, Ronald.
Bracken growled at Tywin's tone, but nodded. "I'll agree to that, so long as I have your word we'll destroy them, root and branch." The Blackwoods and Brackens had been feuding for generations, longer than anyone alive remembered, and their hatred for one another's houses was the driving force behind Bracken being here. He couldn't care less who sat on the Iron Throne, nor was he truly close to House Tully or anyone from that family.
"You have my word." Tywin replied formally, before turning back to the map. "Now, how many men can you add to my force, and how fast can supplies reach us?"
Bracken frowned, pulling at his short cropped beard thoughtfully. For now, I'll say that the force I brought with me here, a little over a thousand armsmen, five hundred archers and a hundred heavy cavalry. If we wipe out Blackwood, I'll add another two thousand mixed levies and archers to that plus five hundred more armsmen."
Tywin went over those numbers in his head, comparing them to what he knew of Bracken's strength and nodded. That would mean stripping Stone Hedge, House Bracken's castle of nearly its entire defense force, but so long as Lord Lannister controlled the side of the red Fork that would be an acceptable risk for the other house. After a moment Tywin nodded. "Very well. Now," he said gesturing down at the map. "Tell me what you know of our route, do you recommend one fort over the other?"
Over the next few hours after talking to Lord Bracken and his sub commanders Tywin decided on their course from now on. There were two Fords to get across the Red Fork going further north. One was at the Trident, where you could cross all three of the Forks at once, then take the Kingsroad up north. However, that would take Tywin and his army nearly a month out of their way marching east, and that was time that Tywin could ill afford if he wanted to get up to the Neck and defend it against the northern incursion.
By this time the ship carrying his granddaughter, the almost certainly alive Lord Stark would have already reached the North, and they might have already begun to gather their forces. With the Riverlands now broken into pieces thanks to Hoster's declaration and every lord responding individually to the events in King's Landing, there was no chance of any one family standing up and taking control of the defense against him, and for all his natural charisma Renly was untried as a general. If Tywin knew what Stannis was up to perhaps he would prefer to remain here in the south and meet up with his second echelon. But not knowing that and with forces already sent to bolster the defense of King's Landing, keeping the Riverlands divided and the North out of action was the most important thing.
Then too, if he could smash a few more houses without needing to be bogged down in siege after siege, the aura of an undefeated general and his own well-earned reputation for ruthlessness could keep the houses along the eastern edge of the Riverlands from acting. A few of them backed the Targaryens in the War of the Usurper, and were individually very weak still due to Hoster's retaliation.
The Houses between the Red and Blue Forks however were a different story. Those houses were well known to have friendly and deep ties to House Tully, and most of their heirs like several others were friends of Edmure which would push them to act against any rumor of his being a traitor.
Moreover continuing straight up to the ford at the Kneeling Man would allow him to keep most of his supply lines on Bracken land, making it much harder for them to be attacked. If they tried to follow the River Road though, the Blackwood's would become more and more into play and of course Vance's men would continue their depredations.
Over the next week this strategy proved accurate. House Bracken's men took over protecting his supply lines entirely, and waged a vicious campaign against House Blackwood and House Vance men to protect them. They did a much better job than his men had done thanks to being on their own territory and knowing where any ambush points could be set up. However, Tywin was faced with a new problem when he reached the ford.
Tywin sat on his horse staring through a small spy glass across the ford. Defensive bulwarks had been thrown up on the other side of the Ford, and there were several houses allied against him over there. "Interesting," he murmured handing the spyglass over to his cousin, Daven.
The other man looked through it and nodded. "I see banners for Blanetree, Deddings, Shawney, Lolliston, Vypren, and Vance of Atranta. Apparently the sons of the old Lord have decided they've had enough of playing bandits in the woods. Overall, Possibly…." he paused, thinking as he surveyed the defensive line. "Could be as many as seven thousand?"
"That was what I estimated yes." Lord Tywin said turning to look hard at Bracken. "You assured me that they would not ally with one another."
"I said that they probably wouldn't ally." Bracken corrected. "Shawney and Lolliston would always have stood against you here or soon after Lord, their standing together is not exactly unexpected, they've married into one another often enough. The others being here is a surprise, I'll admit."
Tywin stared hard at the other man, but Bracken wasn't just old, despite his bluster he was actually tough and he stared back unflinchingly. Eventually Tywin nodded and there was some respect in his voice as he replied. "Very well, your house has served the crown well enough so far, and your advice up to this point was good. And frankly this plays to our strengths as well."
Daven nodded. He was a jovial looking man, with wide shoulders, long yellow hair and a pug nose, which had been broken several times in his youth, but despite the pugilist features he was intelligent. Daven was known good leader and blade, much better than his father Stafford. Stafford had initially served as Tywin's second-in-command, but Daven was simply a better leader of fighting men, and just as good an organizer as his father.
To avoid familial friction Tywin had sent back Stafford back to the Westerlands to help Kevan raise the second muster and then command its march. Kevan would have normally lead that army being Tywin's closest and most trusted relative but Tywin was loath to remove Kevan from Casterly Rock. He feared that the Ironborn would attempt to revert to their roots once more, and wanted a strong, dependable hand in place to protect Lannisport.
"We outnumber them, and while that position is good, it won't make up the strength difference. We can smash those houses now, and might not have to deal with more niggling losses on the other side of the river. Especially since the Vance boys are over there." Daven smirked.
"If we smash them in as believable a manner as possible." Tywin murmured, sounding skeptical. However, Tywin knew something that Daven hadn't truly realized: that the enemy was not a unified force, far from it in fact.
"Send over an emissary under the white flag. While that's going on, ready the men for battle." With that he began to give out commands briskly, assigning each Westerlands lord to a separate section, and putting Daven in charge of the heavy cavalry.
The Red Fork was a wide, winding, lazy river, not very deep for the most part, it seemed as if a man on horse or a cart could make their way across. But it wasn't the depth that made fords necessary, but the mud. The bottom of the Red Fork was a silt and mud mire, where a horse could suddenly go in up to its ankles in places. Attempting to cross anywhere but the fords at any time except for during a dry season was folly unless you had boats to carry you across. The defenders were at the Ford because that was the only place that heavy cavalry or carts could get across without breaking their legs.
But despite that, the land here wasn't very good for a defense, it was much too flat for any defending army to have a height advantage for its archers, and there were no natural defensive points save for the ford itself. The defenders had done their best, creating a line of makeshift bulwarks with a small step behind them and large wooden walls for the archers, but it was obvious the defenses were unfinished.
Looking at them closely, Tywin could see that the far right flank had actual rocks and gravel mixed into its bulwarks, and was much taller as well. Seeing this, Tywin knew he had to smash this defense aside quickly.
Within the hour the emissary came back, with the statement that the Lords would hold the Red Fork against the Lannister's army marching forward, but that they would not attack if the Lannister's remained where they were.
The man he had sent, Lucion Lannister, son of Damion, Casterly Rock's majordomo, shrugged his shoulders. "They seem confident my Lord, they think they can hold us here, and they think that help is on the way."
The man's squire, Willem Lannister, a nephew from Tywin's dead brother Tygett, spoke up. "Sir, I think I know why."
Tywin stared at the younger man, who gulped under his heart glare but stood his ground. After a moment Tywin nodded, gesturing with one hand for the man to speak. "While I was delivering your demand for them to move aside, I talked to a few of the other squires. They were smug about it, apparently Lord Mallister has already sent men. They're already on their way and nearly to Fairmarket already. And there was some kind of missive recently out of Riverrun, something about the North already on the march. That was supposed to be a secret but…" The young man shrugged.
Tywin's eyes widened slightly and he looked over at his other field commanders all of whom looked surprised at the news. Tywin wasn't surprised that the North would march, but if they were already on the march that was incredibly fast. It should've taken them three possibly even five months to gather their forces, possibly two if they didn't want to gather their full strength. Then at least another month to get down to the neck with any appreciable force!
After a moment however he shrugged. "It's a morale boosting trick. I have no doubt that the North might've already begun to muster, but that's not the same thing as being on the march. The Mallister force however, that is more worrisome."
"If they reach Fairmarket and join with house Paege they might be able to hold Fairmarket against us entirely." Daven said worriedly tugging at his short cropped, neatly trimmed goatee.
"Agreed." Tywin nodded crisply. "That makes it even more imperative for us to push this up force out of our way and continue on."
If they could not take Fairmarket, they could not get over the blue Fork without moving all the way down to where it connected to the Green Fork, which would take them at least a month out of their way. The Red Fork had several fords of various sizes, but the Blue Fork only had a few, and only two of them were large enough for a full army to move across. The area around the Ruby Ford was too good a defensive position for Tywin to wish to chance it, though it would get him across both the Blue and Green Forks. Worse, if Tywin went that way he might force the families on that side of the Green Fork to side against him, so he needed to capture Fairmarket.
"Very well, signal Lord Bracken to begin the arrow storm. I'll want the first and second infantry forces ready to storm across in ten minutes. The first will advance line across, the second in a column ready to exploit any openings in their defense."
His men jumped to obey as Tywin began to bark out further orders. He positioned his archers, around a thousand two hundred men, in two wings on either side of the ford, with his infantry set up into three groups. The first a group of nearly two thousand under Lord Brax, the second group another of two thousand five hundred under Lord Lefford, upwards of two thousand heavy cavalry waited behind them, with a further force of nearly a thousand light cavalry waiting at the back of the formation with the reserve, nearly another six hundred infantry. Lord Bracken's men made up a portion of the archers on one flank, bits of the light and heavy cavalry, and nearly half the second wave of infantry.
While the majority of his archers were waiting just outside of bow range, Tywin sent several hundred forward of his lines, and ordered them to start firing on the enemy bulwarks. This was more to give him a clue as to the nature of the enemy command then to inflict any real losses.
To his amusement this probing attack elicited a strong response. He stared through his spyglass as a large force of light cavalry raced across the ford towards his archers. "Tell my nephew to bring up the heavy cavalry, crush those light cavalry! Then bring up the archers in their entirety on the wings. If they react so strongly to a small probe, let's see what they do when we start to bring up our main forces. If we can pull them out of their prepared defenses…"
Within moments the archers he had committed to that initial attack were falling back seemingly in disarray towards his main force. Rather than turning aside, the light cavalry broke apart, some of its men pulling back across the ford their objective complete, while others pursued the archers. Those archers did not live to return to Tywin's lines, but their killers died under the lances of his heavy cavalry, or retreated in broken disarray across the Ford.
Under Daven's command those heavy cavalry did not pursue, pulling back while Tywin brought up his archers, racking the defensive line and the surviving light cavalry. From a makeshift stand at the back of his Army Tywin used his binoculars to observe the assault as his archers began to fire en-masse at the opposing line. He winced however when the archers on the other side began to fire back. Riverlands archers were better than Westerlanders, their bows larger and their pull heavier, not quite up to that used in the North or the Vale, but heavier than the Westerlands type. His archers began to take losses, despite the wooden palisades that protected them just like their fellows across the ford.
Under the hail of arrows from both sides, his first infantry column raced across the ford. With the archers concentrating on one another, they crossed the ford to assault the defenders line, and infantry began to die on both sides. The defenders were outnumbered, but had a prepared position, and slightly higher ground to fight from where they blocked the ford. The blood of the Red Fork truly began to turn red from the blood of the attackers.
Tywin watched this through his binoculars, his face carved from stone. "Order the second group to advance, tell them to concentrate on the left flank, and signal our first line to shift that way. Then tell our signal men to play the Rains of Castamere."
His fellow lords looked worried at that, not the song but the concentration of the infantry on the left flank. That was the strongest defensive position of the enemy, so why would you attack there? Tywin however had noticed that the defenders on that flank had become disorganized by the retreat of the remaining light cavalry into their lines.
Moreover, on that flank his archers seemed to be sl