!" said Ranma shaking his head emphatically, the word coming out through clenched teeth.
"As for the incest that is so much on your mind septon I can promise you that that will not occur as well." Daenerys said smoothly taking over from Ranma as he looked ready to tear into someone at the very idea that Joffrey still had designs on Sansa. "To put it bluntly, I think that was a mistake all along, and one that I will not continue. I would even be willing to put that into law to appease the Faith if needed, as well as a promise to put into law the idea of freedom of religion, while also repealing that bit of idiocy."
Septon Sparrow stared into the Targaryen girl's purple eyes then slowly nodded. "I will hold you to that as will the Faithful Your Highness." Despite his almost challenging tone however septon Sparrow was cautiously pleased with how this interview had gone. Yes, he wasn't coming away with what he had hoped to come away with, he had failed to talk either of the would-be royals into converting, but placing freedom of belief in the laws of the land was an excellent idea, along with outlawing incest even in the royal family.
"Do you have any other questions or horses to drop on us?" Ranma asked sarcastically crossing his arms and staring at the older man.
"Not a present, though I will ask you what your intentions toward the lands of your enemies are, and more importantly those who work them. Far too often the smallfolk pay for the wars of their nobles."
"Not in this war, not on our side of things at any rate." Ranma said shaking his head, then went on to explain his policy of what they would do with prisoners.
Any smallfolk levy captured would have to work a year on various royal projects before being allowed to return home with room and board paid for throughout that year by the crown,or could go to the Wall and join the Night's Watch. Armsmen, Knights sworn to Houses that fought against Ranma and Daenerys would be forced to work on such projects for five years. Before being offered that choice any enemy that was captured or surrendered would have to first be cleared of further wrongdoing against the men and women of the Riverlands, such as rape, theft or murder of a noncombatant.
Those lords that followed House Lannister unwillingly or under coercion could be allowed to return to their lands after the war was over after paying reparations but they would never be allowed to have more than fifty armsmen to their name after the war. The Westerlands lords would face paying similar restitutions only somewhat less so since they were following their oaths to their Lord Paramount and couldn't be blamed for that.
Any lord from the Riverlands like Lord Bracken or Vypren who joined the Lannisters willingly would have their houses removed from the nobility, their lands seized and themselves executed along with any heir that followed them willingly. Their womenfolk would be dealt with on a case by case basis.
On the other hand Ranma's forces weren't going to go out of their way to capture lords as most armies did for their ransom. Indeed though he wasn't going to mention it now of course, Ranma was going to instigate in-battle assassination of lords in the near future. Since they were often officers as well, the chaos this would generate would make any battle much easier.
The Lannisters however, their fate would be decided after the war. Ranma chanced to look at Myrcella as he said that, though the younger girl did not catch it, having fallen asleep against the side of the sofa. Ranma turned his attention back to Septon Sparrow, smiling faintly. "Does that satisfy you?"
"And the actions of your own Army? What are the fates of those among your own men who prey upon the smallfolk?"
"Castration or death." Ranma said bluntly. "They know that too, I gave a speech about that soon after we started marching from Winterfell. No one's pushed me on it yet, thankfully."
Septon Sparrow actually smiled, his austere face seeming much kinder for a moment. "I could wish most knights felt that way, and most nobles too. I thank you my Lord, my Lady, you have answered all of my questions. With that I will take my leave."
The two royals nodded, dismissing the fellow and was about to turn to the others to say that they should break up for the night when the guard at the door who had just ushered the septon out poked his head back in. "Um, my lords, there's a man here who claims to be an Iron Bank representative. He, um, he wants to talk to you."
Ranma groaned leaning his head back. It had been a long day, and he really would like some sleep. He wasn't exhausted physically, but mentally and emotionally certainly. Towns and villages were not places for battle, and it would be a long time before he stopped remembering some of the sights he had seen today.
"I don't think most of us have anything to say to any Braavosi, let alone one from the Iron Bank." Said Arya, getting up swiftly. She had disliked the talk about the Faith, since she felt the Seven were rather ridiculous, but not nearly as irritating as money matters. She, Nymeria and the rest of the wolfsworn hurried out, not one of them very interested in such matters like that.
Motioning Dacey to wait for a moment, Daenerys gently shook Myrcella awake. The Mormont woman did so, then helped Myrcella to her feet and escorted her out of the room. Ser Barristan stayed, having remained silent throughout the discussion with the septon, moving over to lean against the wall along with Rickard and Lord Mallister.
Seconds later the guard showed in another man. He was an older man, small, and thin looking, with a bald head, and a calm deliberate manner even when simply walking into the room. He was dressed in simple yet well-made clothing, and a heavy Iron and gold torque hung from his neck down his chest. Though stamped from the same cloth he was not the Iron Bank representative that had spoken to Cersei and Joffrey weeks back. In this war-torn time the Iron Bank had seen fit to send several different representatives, along with their bodyguards, to search out the various claimants to the Iron Throne and sound them out on the payment of the debt the Iron Throne had accrued.
"Lord Stark." The man began with a faint nod of the head. "I am a representative of the Iron Bank of Braavos,I am here to ask what you will do in regards the massive debt the Iron Throne has accrued to us in the past few years if you win the throne. Lord Stark, your father, did a magnificent job in trying to offset that debt and set up a payment plan for the debt. We wish to know if you will continue his work if you win the throne and honor that lawful debt."
He smiled thinly. "Needless to say if you did agree to that, certain... aid at present can be yours." He was authorized to make that somewhat open-ended offer because Stark honor was well known to be as firm as granite, and because of the work Eddard had done as Hand before the start of open hostilities.
"No." Ranma said bluntly. "Why should we? It wasn't us who went into debt to you in the first place. We have no connection to either the queen or the former king who did so."
"But it was not the king or the queen who is in debt, it is the throne itself." The iron Bank representative riposted. "If you claim the Iron Throne, then the debt of the Iron Throne is yours."
Daenerys shook her head. "I am afraid Ser, that the Iron Throne is done. It was a magnificent symbol in its time of my family's strength and power, the unification of Westeros into one nation, but it has failed since. The throne is done, and any debt it holds as well. We are starting afresh, building on the old but not a part of it. As such, to talk of us owing money accrued by the Iron Throne is laughable."
"Such an action will set a bad precedent." said the Iron Bank representative, now in a much colder tone of voice. "The Iron Bank is due that money, and we will be paid it, one way or the other."
Ranma laughed. "Really? Would your bank really wish to stick its nose in the mire that is Westeros right now? You'd lose a lot more than you'd gain doing so. And you would be called on it after too. So is the Iron Bank willing to lose Westeros as a place where clients can be found entirely?"
Beside him Daenerys remained silent staring at the other man, wondering what the Iron Bank would do. She knew the Iron Bank was actually much more powerful than any simple bank could be. In many ways it was more powerful than the city it was based in, and it had tendrils everywhere. But I'm not going to bend over backwards to please them either, there is no lawful way the debt Robert Baratheon built up could ever be applied to Ranma or I.
"The Iron Bank will have its due, and will take any action it needs to do so." The man replied grimly. He knew that the bank needed to make certain that people couldn't think they could renege on their debts like that, even if doing so cost more than the debt itself. And he knew that the bank had some connections elsewhere, connections that could give them a force that would be able to survive here in Westeros.
"That's nice." Ranma shrugged. "Then I suggest you talk to the other would-be kings, you won't get any help from us."
"That was a little more blunt than I would have been, Ranma." Daenerys said later that evening as she and Ranma cuddled in bed. She arched her back luxuriating as Ranma ran his hands down her naked back. Neither of them was in the mood to make love after the bloody day's events, but that hadn't stopped them from cuddling for a time. "Yet it seemed to get the message across at least."
"You know the Iron Bank better than I do, Dae." Ranma replied, leaning his head back looking down into her violet eyes. "Are they really going to do anything? Or was that all a bluff?"
Daenerys shook her head,her hair moving almost sensually against Ranma's bare chest. "They'll do something but I don't know what. I think that will depend upon if any of the other 'kings' agree to pay them off in time, which I just can't see unless one of them faces major military defeats and feels the Iron Bank can help them recover. If none of them do agree to pay that debt of theirs, I have no idea at that point."
"That was my thought as well. So, do they have a standing army or anything? And if they find a backer here, what forces could they send?"
"I am uncertain if they have a standing army, though they could certainly purchase enough mercenaries to make one, possibly a sizable one given time. Though most mercenaries would not be up to the standards of most of the Westeros armies, and they wouldn't be very disciplined either, unless they pay for the Golden Company itself. They wouldn't have any trouble transporting an army however, since the Iron Bank owns or has stocks in hundreds of ships. Still, any such move as that is at least half a year down the line."
"Assassins might be more of a threat however. Especially if they are turned down, I could see the Iron Bank buying the services of the Faceless Men to simply wipe out every claimant to the Iron Throne then move in with a puppet who would organize a payment plan."
Ranma frowned thinking about what he knew about the Faceless Men. They were assassins that could apparently go anywhere and slip past the best guards, experts with poison, knife and bow. There were even tales of them changing their appearances well beyond simple disguises too, the better to sneak in and out to claim their target for their Many-Faced-God. And given what all else seems to be happening in the world, I bet those tales have some truth to them these days, he thought grimly.
After a moment he nodded grimly. "They aren't the only ones who might go that route. I'm going to assign Ser Barristan to you permanently, I think he'll do a great job at leading your guards from now on. I certainly don't need a bodyguard, not with Fenris to sniff out any poisons. But from now on, you eat either with me and the direwolves or your dragons present to sniff out anything in your meals if you think your dragons can do that. And I think you should choose a few of the Northerners to guard your dragons when you aren't around them."
"Dragons are nearly un-killable with poisons, still best not to tempt fate and I think they will be able to sniff out dangers, I'm not certain. You realize though that in a couple of months they'll reach an age where they will attack anyone around them not of Targaryen blood?"
"At that point I'll assign Fenris, Nymeria or Ghost to be with them at all times when you can't be." Ranma said with a nod. "Though I haven't noticed that tendency in them yet."
"That's because I've been very careful to not allow any adults near them except those they have been introduced to and seemingly accept." Daenerys replied, her brow furrowed. "They like children for some reason, I get the impression it's simply because they don't smell as much as adults do and can be wheedled into giving them scratches. Well, Sunfyre seems to get along well enough with children Rhaegon on the other hand is much pickier. He is the one I'm most worried about lashing out if he's startled or finds himself around strangers."
"Something to keep in mind." Ranma said with a nod.
"What are our plans going forward?" Daenerys asked.
"I'd like to go see my grandfather, but we can't take the time for that now. We need to bring the army back together, but also need to keep attacking. We've got the momentum now, but the Lannisters have too much defense in depth for us to keep it for long enough to finish them off, unless... Well, I have a plan, or at least the outline of one. All talk to Jon and the others about it in the morning. But we also need to bring the Riverlands houses east of the Green Fork to our side, which means sending you to talk to them. How long do you think it might take you to convince them to stop sitting on the defense and join us?"
Daenerys frowned, almost thinking for a moment that Ranma was simply sending her away but she realized after a moment he had a point. Some of those houses after all had proven more loyal to her house than to their Lord Paramount, so sending her to talk to them would be an excellent step in the right direction. "All right, I can understand that need. I think it should take me… well once I get there two weeks at most to bring them all to our side? But you're not going to tell me anything else just yet?
"Not yet." Ranma said with a sigh. "I need to go over the map first make certain most of its doable, and then…" he shrugged. "The tactics are workable, it's the overall strategy that's the question." He smirked then. "I'll give you a pair of hints though: First, there's an old saying, 'all war is deception'. And the next clue is, 'strategic offense, tactical defense.'"
Daenerys looked at him, her mind almost visibly clicking along behind her violet eyes. Eventually she nodded. "You're going to seemingly give Tywin what he wants, then take it away? Or perhaps dangle bait in front of him then when he tries to grab it hammer him with something he doesn't see coming, to turn one of his strategic assets against him?"
Ranma smiled, hugging her, one hand gently cupping her bare rump. "Yep, that's pretty much it. Lord Lannister thinks his defensive position is unassailable and that his numbers give him a tremendous advantage. We'll see if we can't turn them into weaknesses."
OOOOOOO
A disaster, Margaery thought to herself as she marched into Highgarden's meeting hall, that is what we're dealing with here. The raven-carried message that said Willas had been forced to retreat over the Golden River was one thing. He even sounded somewhat upbeat about it, though Margaery doubted he really was. Still Willas was obviously doing the best he could. But the disaster that had befallen the Shield Islands and the Arbor, that was something else entirely.
It had given her grandmother a heart attack, and it was only because of septa Nysterica being there that she was still alive at all. Her son-in-law Paxter's death and the worry about what about what might be happening on the Arbor to the rest of the Redwyne family, especially her daughter Mina, had broken through Olenna's normally solid as oak self-control. Even now Nysteria and Alerie, Margaery's mother, were seeing to her, leaving Margaery to act as the sole Tyrell in Highgarden, for now at least.
Margaery however was more worried about the Mander and what the Ironborn could do if they began to raid up it. The Shield Islands had so long been the staunch shield they were supposed to be for the Mander that much of the defenses along it had been allowed to fade or fall apart. Ignoring the two men across the meeting hall's table for a moment, she stared down at the map. Only after staring at if for several moments did Margaery look over at the two most senior commanders left in High Garden. "We face a crisis Sers, and I would like to hear some options on how best to mitigate it."
"Reinforce the city defenses as much as we can my lady." The older of the two said, with a shrug. Igon Vyrwel was captain of the guard of the castle of Highgarden, and though not very experienced in warfare, knew the defenses of the castle and its capabilities like the back of his hand.
"I am afraid Ser Igon's right. We don't have enough man power on hand to do more than that, your majesty. Indeed, if we are attacked we might have to pull back from the outer wall entirely and defend only the inner one." Despite her not having married Renly her great-uncle Garth, who served as the seneschal of the castle, was always punctilious about using that royal address for her, no doubt something her father had insisted on.
"But we cannot sit on the defensive either, Sers! The Mander would allow an Ironborn raiding fleet to sail right up to us and besiege the castle." As a castle and a city, Highgarden was susceptible to sieges of that nature just like most other cities. The city resided between the outer and inner walls, with the inner walls defending the castle of House Tyrell. "What is worse Sers, is that sitting on the defensive here will allow the Ironborn to raid along the Mander south of here with impunity!"
After a moment's thought, Igon shrugged. "We could fortify castle Oldflowers, it's right on the river much like Highgarden. And as a Noble House they should have retained at least two hundred or more men at their castle. But that would leave Highgarden undefended."
Margaery took a moment to find that castle on the map then frowned. "So House Oldflowers is the best position? Are you sure? There are numerous villages and settlements further out along the river before that…"
"But no other defensible position, my lady." Igon said sorrowfully. "None of the towns and villages along the river before that have any kind of keep or even a holdfast. Even House Graves' keep is in a worse position, because they didn't leave any men behind. Lord Graves took his entire complement of armsmen, knights and even his two sons to war with Lord Tyrell. Apparently he is hoping to win glory for his house, enough to offset their troubles."
"Can Oldflowers be bypassed by ships on the river?" Margaery asked intently.
Igon and Garth looked at one another, both of them trying to remember what they could of House Oldflowers' seat. Neither could however, until Igon remembered that the master-at-arms of the keep, Ser Vortimer Crane, had been there in his youth. They sent for him, and when asked the question, Vortimer replied after only a moment's thought, his accent, a legacy of a youth spent at sea, very evident. "Yes milords, milady, Oldflowers ships c'd move past it, but if'n the castle's ballista and catapults'er still good the ships'd take a right pounding."
"But my lady, all this is supposition." Garth said after dismissing the man. "We can't send enough forces to Oldflowers to hold the castle in strength when we barely retain enough men here to defend even the inner wall."
"Too many men away at war." Said Margaery almost to herself then shook her head. "We sent too much our strength out too quickly to back Renly oh-so pretty Baratheon! Father damn him and damn us for being fools!"
Garth actually gulped a little at the vitriol in Margaery's voice, letting loose one of the gassy expectorations that had earned him the name Garth the Gross from Margaery when she was younger. "I-in your father's defense my lady, no one could have anticipated an attack like this from the Iron Islands, at least not one that was so successful. The Shield Islands coming under attack yes, but the Arbor itself?! Our fleet outnumbered the Iron Fleet two to one!"
News of the battle for the Arbor's disastrous start had come with the first raven from Oldtown sent by Ser Desmond Redwyne, who was acting as admiral of the fleet for now. It was heartening news that so many ships have been able to retreat even if most of them weren't true war galleys. With them they would be able to lift enough men to retake the Arbor from the Ironborn, but that would take more men than Oldtown had on hand.
And it would take time, Margaery thought to herself, shaking her head. Will they concentrate on strengthening their position on the island, or reave deeper into the Mander from the Shield Islands? The Ironborn have always been too grasping, too eager to raid and plunder rather than hold to what they have already taken. I think…
"With the men still here we can protect Highgarden, but if we do that, we won't be able to stop them raiding anywhere they want along the Mander and I'm not certain we could defend the city from them anyway. We don't have enough trained men to man the walls against a full on assault, and I refuse to pull back to the inner wall and let the smallfolk who look to us to protect them defenseless!"
"Great-uncle, I want a proclamation calling for archers among the smallfolk of the city and elsewhere on our House's lands to go out within the hour. I want to start seeing archers coming forward today. They are to be paid as armsmen for the duration of this emergency, and anyone who comes forward is to be told that, and given the first week's wages at once."
House Tyrell's coffers would easily pay that, in fact they could pay for over 100,000 such wages without making too large a dent in their treasury, though Margaery doubted she would get more than two-thousand or so archers, but any of them who could prove that they could pull a bow in battle would be worth it. "I also want the city watch to start training to a higher degree. If push comes to shove, I want them to be able to take their own places along the wall."
"But that will be a final defense." Margaery went on. "All the armsmen and archers we have presently here in the castle are to move out by sun up tomorrow to reinforce castle Oldflowers."
"I respectfully disagree with that decision your majesty." Garth said, shaking his head almost patronizingly. "As Vortimer said, Oldflowers can be bypassed. If we send our forces there, they'll simply move on from it."
"Not if I go with them and if it is known and spread about that I did. In fact we'll bring along House Tyrell's flag and place it there in plain sight." Margaery said firmly. "I would think that the only daughter of Lord Tyrell would be a prize the Ironborn could never turn away from."
Both men looked at each other then fell over one another in their attempts to convince Margaery not to put herself in danger like that, but Margaery was resolute and rode over their concerns swiftly. "With my grandmother incapacitated I speak for my family here. Are you saying I don't?" She asked one eyebrow arching in a way that Ranma would have shivered to see, reminding him far too much of Nabiki at that moment.
Her two advisors however reacted just as much. Garth let loose a series of expectorations, while the captain of the guard looked down, cowed.
"Besides, it won't be for long, only until Garlan can return with enough men to make both Oldflowers and Highgarden secure." Margaery thought for a moment, going through the knights who she knew that were still in residence in the house.
Thankfully Horas the Halfwit was not among them, nor was his brother, who in her opinion was a little worse than him. One in particular came to mind, a man that her brothers all respected for his steadfast loyalty and perseverance. "Send for Ser Willam Wythers, and assign him five other men. I have a mission for him."
With that she dismissed the two older men despite their continued protests, her frosty and haughty demeanor cowing them both despite her being a young woman possibly with the help of Olenna's vicious tongue lashing looming over their minds. After they left Margaery turned her attention to penning a letter for her brother.
It was simple enough: 'Garlan, a catastrophe has occurred. The Arbor and Shield Islands have all been taken by the Ironborn in a surprise attack. They somehow used crew fire-ships to destroy much of the fleet in their docks, we do not know how the Shield Islands were overcome. Enough ships survived so we might be able to win them back, but we need more men both along the Mander and in Oldtown with the fleet. I trust you to do the right thing. Your sister, Margaery.'
She could have mentioned that her grandmother was incapacitated by the news, but it was unnecessary. Garlan would know what to do. Margaery put that note to the side, then began to pen another message, which was certainly not to her brother. This one was much longer, filling up the piece of parchment from top to bottom in small lettering, but it would hopefully help both her and her family in the long run.
By the time she was done Ser Willam had been found, and both he and his men were ready to go. Willam came up to the meeting hall, and bowed formally. He was a little below middle-aged, of average size though his shoulders were wide, with light brown eyes and brown hair. "Milady, you have a mission for me?"
"Ser Willam." Margaery said looking up at him with a faint smile. "All three of my brothers agree that you are a good, dependable man, one of few things that all three agree on I can tell you. I have a mission for you, should you choose to volunteer for it."
"My lady does me too much credit." Willam said bowing his head slightly, not obsequiously, simply modestly.
"I hope not, because I'm going to put that dependability to the test. She said holding up one missive. "This is for my brother Garlan. We'll be sending a raven ahead, and that might reach him if he's got to Bitterbridge already, but if not, you might be able to find him faster than the raven can. I hope you do, because that will mean that his march back won't take as long."
William bowed. "I will find your brother milady, have no fear."
"That I don't have a fear about, it should be a relatively easy task. The next one however, is the one which I ask you to volunteer for. I want you to find Ranma Stark for me and deliver him this."
Margaery passed over the next message as William looked at her in shock. "Milady, the Starks have raised their banners…."
"Against the Lannister regime, not against House Tyrell. As far as I know he has no issues with our House, and if we can keep such from happening, we might be able to convince him to ally with us further down the line. I know for a fact he doesn't wants to take the throne for himself, which will leave an opening there my father will accept."
Actually Margaery didn't know anything of the sort, Ranma might be willing to take the throne simply because he didn't trust any of the other claimants with it, and frankly at this point she couldn't blame him. Damn father and his eagerness, we should never have sent so much of our strength to war! Garlan at least and the second echelon should've remained here in Highgarden at least. The first echelon should've been more than enough force but no, father was so convinced of the bigger hammer idea just like Renly! Men!
Willam nodded thoughtfully, taking in her words, not knowing the vitriol of her thoughts. "I see, that makes sense Your Highness, but surely he's still up in the North."
"No he isn't." Margaery replied shaking her head. Olenna had received a message from one of their factors in Seagard telling them that the Northern army had been there, as well as the rumors of what had happened to the Twins. "He'll be somewhere in the Riverlands by this point."
"Are you sure you're grace? I don't doubt that the Stark boy is an exceptional warrior, but to move an army that quickly?" Willam wasn't scared of dying, but he knew the Riverlands was a war zone right now, and the Crownlands might well be heading in that same direction.
"Oh yes, Ranma is far more capable than most would give him credit for, and that extends to his ability to get the most out of his men. Just look for a victorious army celebrating a victory somewhere in the Riverlands. Trust me, that'll be him." Margaery said dryly.
Later that day Margaery was accosted by her mother as she continued to put Highgarden on a wartime footing. Alerie Tyrell was a tall, dignified woman with hair that had gone prematurely silver, the only sign of age anywhere on her face or body. Most of the time she ran the household and remained in the background, having no interest in war, politics or anything but the running of the castle and her family.
It was that second concern that made her come to see her daughter now. "I have heard a disturbing rumor Margaery, that you are going to travel with the armsmen we're sending to castle Oldflowers? Tell me this is just a rumor."
"I'm afraid it isn't mother." Margaery said, looking up from writing out the missive that would be carried into Tyrell lands. They were already getting archers from the city's smallfolk, a very good sign. "I need to go, to show the Ironborn a prize that they can't possibly ignore."
"But you'll be in danger!" Alerie said, almost losing her composure at the very idea of her daughter being that close to the raping, murderous Ironborn. "Please, just send your personal banner and a servant dressed as you. Will that not do the same thing?"
"It might then again it might not depending on if rumors spread to the Ironborn. Moreover the morale of our own men is a factor to consider. If I send a double it will appear as if this is all a forlorn hope, that I do not trust them enough to keep me safe." Margaery shrugged, then turned from her desk to take her mother's hand. "I understand your concern mother, and I don't like to distress you like this, but to be blunt these are distressing times. If I can do my part in keeping Highgarden safe, I need to do so."
Alerie looked at her daughter, or rather the young woman that had been her daughter, and sighed. "As headstrong as your father, I could wish you got more of my personality! Still, if you are set on this I will only wish you luck." She smirked suddenly. "And I will make certain not to mention your absence to mother, I doubt she could handle the strain at present."
Margaery sighed with relief at that, causing her mother to laugh, but there was an edge of seriousness in that. Olenna wasn't in the best of health now, she would pull through, but it remained in question what shape her body or mind would be in.
The next day she rode out on a horse at the head of the remaining armsmen of her family, marching proudly with her personal banner over her head. And in her bodice, Margaery had a small hold out dagger that Ranma had given her and taught her to use. One never knew, after all.
OOOOOOO
The next day, Domeric and Alayaya made themselves at home, routing out anyone who was sending out information as to what had happened in the town to anyone elsewhere. They didn't find many, only a single small scale merchant who was sending information to the Reach of all places, but was more than willing, with the damage to the town laying all around him, to leave off such. This, along with the fact the Lannister's acts against the smallfolk had cut them off from the local rumor mill, might allow Ranma to plan a bit of a surprise down the line for Tywin.
He had hoped that would be the case, hence why he and Daenerys hadn't used the banner Sansa had created yet, or the dragons except in cases where the enemy could be beaten in such a way as to keep news from spreading. The problem with armies at this level of technology was they were out of the information loop, only able to send easily not receive, unless they had partisans among the locals who had that ability.
Bracken and the other local lords Tywin had coerced or forced did not have that ability. While rumor might reach Tywin eventually about the dragons returning, he was a man who wouldn't believe such until his agents could back it up. This might allow Ranma and Daenerys an opportunity to use her dragons decisively on many different levels despite their still not being the strongest or most agile flyers.
While the two spymasters were at work Ranma and Myrcella went to see the prisoner that Jon had taken, Ser Addam Marbrand. Ranma hoped to use the man to plant some long term seeds as it were.
As the only noble prisoner (only prisoner really) they had taken, the Marbrand heir had a room all to himself in the keep though it didn't have any windows and the guards were specifically ordered not to talk in his entered first, one eyebrow quirked in amusement at the man who was lying back on his cot staring at the ceiling. "Addam Marbrand?"
The man looked up at him smirking. "That would be me, and you would be?"
"Ranma Stark. Ranma answered cocking his head slightly at the other man. "You met my brother Jon, he's the one that knocked you out if you've somehow forgotten. Head wounds are tricky like that."
"Oh I've had head wounds before, this was more of a love tap than many really. Jon was much quicker than I'd expected though." The man replied blithely, reminding Ranma strongly of Jaime for a moment despite not looking at all like the golden-haired Lannister. Though having much the same build as the Kingslayer, Addam had dark, shoulder-length copper colored hair and dark brown eyes.
Now those eyes hardened. "It is a mistake I will not make again."
"Hah, if you're looking for a rematch I suppose Jon would oblige you, though I doubt you'd fare any better against him a second time." Ranma said chuckling at the other man's bravado. "On a more serious note, I regret to inform you that I don't believe in playing that old ransom game."
"So what you're here to talk to me before sending me to the gallows?" Addam asked.
"In the North we don't use gallows." Ranma replied coldly, losing his jocular tone as he fingered Ice's hilt where it rode in its sheathe on his back. "The man who passes the sentence wields the sword."
"Ranma." said Myrcella from behind him pushing forward lightly to get him of the doorway. "Enough of that." After Ranma moved to one side and Myrcella moved in, looking at the Westerlands knight with her head cocked to one side. "I don't know if you remember me Ser Addam, but I believe we met once when I traveled with my mother and siblings to the Rock when I was… five or six I think? You and my uncle put on a show of swordsmanship for us all." She blushed faintly. "I'm sorry to say that's the only reason I remember you."
"You were quite young your highness," said the man, swiftly getting to his feet before bowing floridly. "It is good to see that these northern dogs have treated you appropriate to your station."
"I am not a prisoner Ser." Myrcella said, her own voice becoming cold for a moment before warming as she looked over at Ranma. "I am a guest of honor, and an ally of Ranma Stark." She then turned back to Addam, frowning as she took in his bandaged chest and the blood clotting his hair on one side. "Did someone actually look at that, or did they just toss some bandages on you before putting you in here?"
"Um, just bandaged me your highness, but I am not badly hurt, thank you for your concern, nothing cracked just some nasty bruises." Addam replied, then looked mystified as Merry rolled her eyes and turned to shouts some orders out the door.
Ranma laughed lightly. "Our Merry has become quite the healer since we left King's Landing. I'd just go with it if I were you."
While they waited for the supplies Merry had bellowed for, she turned back. "A lot has changed since then yes." She went on to describe to Addam what had occurred in King's Landing, which she, Daenerys and Ranma had all agreed she should share with the man if he was going to be used as a messenger to her grandfather. Ranma didn't really think anything would come of it quickly, but he was willing to muddy the waters.
"So I really had no choice but to come with the Northerners, and since Ranma returned, he has put me under his personal protection. And frankly with all I suspect I would be killed if I ever return to King's Landing." Myrcella finished, then turned back to the doorway, taking the medical supplies, some new bandages, and a small bottle of firemilk with a smile for the guard before turning back. "Now, tilt your head for me please."
Somewhat bemused Addam obeyed, wondering where this officious little thing had come from since all the rumors about her had said Myrcella had a gentle, shy disposition. He winced occasionally at her touch and the touch of the spirits she was using to disinfect his head wound, but not much.
"A princess needs no northern dogs protection or wouldn't if said northern dog knew who his master was." Addam said after a moment, looking over at Ranma and almost visibly deciding to ignore the princess's ministrations.
Ranma laughed. "If you're trying to get a rise out of me for some reason Ser Addam, you better try harder. Besides, what do you think would happen to you if you did anyway? I routinely beat Jon in our spars easily." Well not easily really, but routinely certainly.
"Can't fault a man for trying." Addam muttered, having thought he might have been able to make a break for the door if Ranma would try to move forward to attack him, or at least taint the northern whelp in the princess' eyes. It was obvious the girl liked him too much for their disparate positions. Still he didn't really want try to fight Ranma one on one anyway. The tale of Ranma literally ripping apart Gregor Clegane had spread to the Westerlands well before this. "Why are you here then, if not to gloat?"
"I said I wouldn't be asking for a ransom for you and I meant it. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to use you as a messenger. First though, can you tell me if anything new has been discovered about Tommy's death?"
Addam blinked at the sudden change of topic, then blinked again at the nickname of the dead prince. "No, certainly nothing about it had reached the Army before I led the assault force here. But, I, why, I mean, he's been dead for months now, and his murderer too." He flinched then as he looked over at where Merry had just pulled back from him, having bandaged the side of his head to her satisfaction. "My apologies your highness, of course it would be playing on your mind still, but I had thought that a cut and dried matter of the poisoner being found red-handed."
"Too red-handed," said Ranma and Myrcella as one. Ranma laughed lightly then, before motioning forMerry to talk. "I was always leery of that story, it seems too false to me. I talked to Tyene a few times, and she always struck me as rather intelligent and subtle of mind."
"For my part," Ranma interjected, "I thought that Tyene was too bright to let herself be caught with the poison still on her like that. If she even had a reason to attack Tommy. She was around Tommy dozens of times before that, why would she kill him?"
Addam scowled, looking at them both. "I don't know anything about what happened in King's Landing Stark, why are you asking me this?"
"I told you you're going to be used as a messenger. I want Lord Lannister to realize that there might be another player in this game, one that is willing to pit us all against one another. I tell you now, on my honor as a Stark that if Tommen was still alive, neither my father or I would ever have moved against the Queen. We both felt Tommy was beginning to show true Baratheon qualities, unlike Joffrey who has never shown anything of the sort. In that alone we agree with the propaganda the two Baratheon brothers are putting out, Joffrey is no Baratheon, though we have no idea why Stannis thinks he is a child of incest."
Addam glared at that slander, but said nothing and after a moment Ranma went on. "Tommen on the other hand, while not having any of the physical features of his father, was beginning to act a lot like him. And before his death, my father and Robert wished to name Tommen the heir, indeed they had decided on that a bare five days before Tommen was poisoned."
For a moment Addam was silent staring at Ranma. "The timing was that close? You swear that on your honor as a Stark?"
"Yes. Interesting coincidence isn't it?" Ranma said sarcastically.
"But if not the Martells, then who would want to pit the Lannisters and Starks against one another? The Tyrells?"
"Doubtful, maybe they could have schemed against Sansa and Joffrey's upcoming marriage, but they couldn't gain anything from Tommen's death. No, it was someone else within the court, someone who is willing to play that kind of underhanded game and had the resources to do it well."
"So either it really was the Martells and they were willing to sacrifice the Sand Snake, or the eunuch or the master of coin?"
"Someone who didn't want the Lions and the direwolves aligning that's all I know." Ranma replied with a shrug. "At the moment, we're still playing their game. I'm not going to stop, I won't say that I will, Joffrey isn't legitimate, nor worthy of the throne even if he was, but this war would never have broken out if Tommen was still alive."
"How can you stay with a man who…"
Merry shook her head before Addam could go on. "My brother is not a Baratheon, I've seen the proof of that. Besides, would you want a boy who doesn't know the difference between shooting water at a cat and ripping it's stomach apart to look at its babies on the throne?"
Addam gulped a little at the coldness in Myrcella's tone, startling from one of her lineage though her emerald eyes glared so much it reminded him starkly of her mother for a moment. "I, I see. I'll certainly pass your words on to Lord Lannister. What else do you want me to do to earn my freedom?"
"I want your word on your family's name that you will not raise your blade against the forces of House Stark, Tully or our allies for the remainder of this war."
"Just your forces?" Addam said with a smirk, recovering some of his attitude then laughed aloud as Ranma smirked back at him.
"It's a good offer my lord, especially since the Ironborn are on the move to judge from their predations into the Cape of Eagles. I have no doubt that a blade of your skill will be better used elsewhere." Ranma said with a laugh. "We'll let you go tomorrow morning, but remember what I said. I want Lord Lannister to think really hard about who benefited the most from Tommen's death, in the long and the short term."
With that, Ranma led Merry out of the room, leaving Addam to his thoughts. Once they were well away from the prisoner's room, Ranma put his arm around Merry's shoulders gently. "Sorry to bring up bad memories Merry, and sorry we couldn't come out and say that Joffrey was the one behind Tommy's death. But no one would believe it, not without the evidence staring 'em in the face."
Merry nodding nuzzling slightly into Ranma's side for a moment before the two of them were joined by Daenerys, who put her own arm around the younger girl from the other side. "I take it your bit of acting went over well?"
"I think so." Merry replied, smiling up at the only slightly taller Daenerys. "I hope it works, but…" Merry hoped that this bit of information might add up with all the other occurrences that Tywin had already heard from King's Landing and possibly convince her grandfather to back off from armed conflict with the Starks. After all, there were so many enemies elsewhere.
Ranma on the other hand knew there had already been too much blood spilled, not just in King's Landing but here in the Riverlands for that to happen. No, he wanted to just add a little more worry to Tywin, to make him spend just a bit more time worrying on what could be happening elsewhere. That kind of thing could add up over time. "We planted a seed at least. Now we just need to make certain he is sent on his way without hearing of you or your little ones, Daenerys."
The next day, while Ranma's men continued to aid in the rebuilding of the town and the reinforcement of its defenses, eight Stark men took Addam Marbrand out of his room. With Daenerys out with her little ones on the other side of the Blue Fork, they quickly left the keep and headed south for half a day. There they cut Addam loose and sent him on his way with three horses taken from the force that had attacked the town. He went on his way none the wiser about the Targaryen girl or her dragons but with his mind a-boil about other matters.
Later that same day, while Merry and her new bodyguard had returned to her work in the hospital, Ranma and Daenerys led a war council. Ser Grell and Ser Paege had arrived, racing ahead of their men by a good half a day, a move that might have had disastrous consequences if the Lannisters in the area hadn't been routed so badly. Still they were here now, and listened as Ranma described the bare bones of his plan to his senior commanders.
Newly arrived just in time for this conference, Desmond Grell stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Ambitious my lord, possibly too much, besides, what you're describing is pinpricks, not killing blows. Tywin's army might not be able to move as fast without supplies, but they'll still be able to live off the land. Worse, every successive attack will take more of your own strength away from the main battles."
"We don't need every part of the plan to work perfectly. Besides, I think Tywin is arrogant enough to set tactics over strategy, much like you Ser Desmond. Those pinpricks as you call them will cut his army off at the knees." Ranma replied.
Desmond scoffed, but seeing none of the others agreed with himdidn't speak up again, admitting to himself he didn't really understand logistics either. Still it seemed farfetched to him.
"I like some of it nephew, but that bit about the second attack group splitting off, that might be too… well too good to be believed. Tywin's a cagy man, he might see through that, and besides, I don't know how much damage they'd be able to do on the other side of the Red Fork, not with the amount of men Tywin has and the smallfolk either serving him or having already fled." Rickard warned.
Jon was silent as was Daenerys both of them going over House Paege's map of the Riverlands.
But Jason Mallister shook his head and when he spoke his tone was impressed. "In politics, Tywin is cagy, as a general that is something very different. He didn't take part in Robert's Rebellion until the very end, his campaign against the Ironborn on Great Wyk didn't show any particular skill simply a high level of brutality, and the battles against the Houses he tore down when they challenged him in the Westerlands were simple affairs. Logistics and long term strategy didn't matter much if at all in them."
"You're talking a grand strategy, and moreover attacking him in such a way that none have done in the past. Like Desmond, we are all too used to thinking in terms of armies assaulting one another openly, of battles for position and head on clashes. This is an oblique approach, one I doubt he will see coming because, well it is so Un-Stark-like, forgive me for saying so."
"It's a crooked way, I'll give you that," Ser Paige murmured, his eyes on Ranma, something a little like bemusement in them, as if he wasn't certain what he was seeing. Rickard was looking at him too, lips quirked in a very odd grimace. "But are you certain you can pull off even enough to give us a slight advantage in the field?"
"With this strategy my lords we have four arrows in our quiver." Daenerys murmured, not looking up from. "If one works we will gain a strategic advantage and at least split Tywin's attention then with each successful arrow going home, the damage becomes worse. It's a magnificent strategy, and I think it will work at least enough for us to gut Tywin's forces."
"What forces were you thinking for my role in this grand strategy yours, brother?" Jon asked.
"House Grell's men and seven hundred 'll make most of those numbers up with men from mountain clans along with two hundred archers. No horse though, the way you're going they would slow you down." Ranma replied.
His brother nodded, smiling grimly. That would give him a thousand men give or take, local guides plus excellent irregular infantry, the type that wouldn't be good for a shield wall, but in the woods…"I was going to ask for the clansmen in any case. They'll be perfect for this."
Jon's orders were to head down the Tumblestone, a river that ran down from the mountains of the Pendric Hills to meet up with the Red Fork at Riverrun. It was wild, utterly unnavigable by boat thanks to constant rocks, shoals, and a very fast current, which was one reason why there were no villages or farms along it, that and the fact most of it ran through heavy hills and dales. But that kind of terrain would pose no problem to Northerners, particularly mountain clansmen like the Wulls and the Burleys.
His objective was to follow it west then cross it and take Wayfarer's Rest, shutting down the logistics train from the Westerlands to Tywin's army. "Close the River Road any way you can." Ranma reiterated. "I don't care how much supplies they're getting from the traitorous Brackens or anyone else, that will hurt them. And if the rest of the campaign goes off as it should, then it will loom even larger in the stomachs of Tywin's troops…"
After that the meeting went on to more particulars, but after the battles he had won so far, none of Ranma's Northern fellows were willing to argue overmuch. The Riverlanders would have, but Jason actually agreed with Ranma that his strategy would work, which took the bite out of the other's argument. That very night Jon and his forces set out, marching through the night with House Grell's newly arrived men guiding them, heading west towards the Hag's Mire. After that they would cut straight south to make for the Whispering Woods.
The next day, with Ranma unwilling to wait for House Paege's scouts to get back to them, the rest of the army set out at midday moving quickly toward Shawney castle, ready for anything. They were accompanied by a force of woodsmen and carpenters, who would be useful to create barges that would carry a force of men further down the river to the Ruby Ford to link up with the defenders there as well as, by this point, the Northern army.
OOOOOOO