Even at his advanced age, Ser Brynden Tully was still a very intimidating figure. Tall and lean, his once-auburn hair had now gone grey. He was clean-shaven, but his facial features were wind-burnt and craggy. Donning black fish-scale armor, he lived up to the name most of Westeros knew him: The Blackfish.
The old knight led a small host of a few hundred riders. Not a true threat to the Kingslayer, the Blackfish and his men had been a thorn in the man's side as they raided and burned the Lannister supply lines, killed scouts, and intercepted messengers. Because of the Blackfish's years of experience, he had stayed one step ahead of his opponent, much to Ser Jaime's annoyance.
Standing in front of the man, Robb felt like little more than a child. After all, Ser Brynden was a veteran of half a hundred battles. He was not as renowned as others his age, like Ser Barristan Selmy or Tywin Lannister were, but he was still a very dangerous opponent and a man whom Robb was extremely grateful to have as an ally.
"Uncle." Robb greeted as the Blackfish and his seconds rode up to the small party of Northmen. The young stark was surrounded by his commanders and a few guards. Just a few miles back, the northern cavalry rested.
"Robb." he greeted strongly, bringing his horse to a halt in front of the group. He flashed a small smile to Robb's mother. "Cat."
Lady Catelyn smiled happily at her uncle. The two had always had a great relationship, even if the relationship between her father and the Blackfish had been strained. He had acted as her confidant during her girlhood and the two frequently shared letters over the years after Catelyn became Lady of Winterfell and Brynden became the Knight of the Gate.
"Uncle Brynden. I am glad to see you doing well," she said happily, unable to keep a relieved smile off her face.
"As well as I can be," the old knight grunted. "I'll be a whole lot better when Riverrun is safe again. I am surprised to find you here Nephew. I thought you were on the other side of the Twins?"
Robb grimaced. "We struck a deal with Walder Frey."
Ser Brynden frowned. "What did the old bugger want?"
"What's done is done, Uncle," Robb said, shaking his head. "We're here now and there are enemies that must be dealt with."
"How many men do you have?" Ser Brynden asked.
"I have the entire northern cavalry with me and my infantry and archers are not far behind," Robb answered firmly.
The two men behind the Blackfish shared excited looks, and even Ser Brynden's grim demeanor cracked a little. Obviously, he had not been expecting help for some time. Now he has thousands of northmen to help him free his home.
"The reinforcements are welcome, Nephew, but Tywin still sits at Harrenhal. He will not sit idle if his golden son is attacked." Ser Brynden pointed out.
Robb grinned. "Not if he is not at Harrenhal," he countered. "I have sent two thousand men under Lord Bolton to distract the old lion. Bearing banners and banging on drums, it will look as if the entire northern host is marching upon him."
The Blackfish raised an eyebrow. "Good thinking." he praised, surprised that a boy of Robb's age had come up with such a ruse.
"Aye, he's Ned's boy through and through." The Greatjon chuckled, patting Robb on the shoulder with a massive paw of a hand.
The Blackfish nodded. "So it seems. I assume you have a plan for dealing with the Kingslayer."
"We strike hard and fast," Robb answered. "I suspect the Kingslayer wants your head."
"He's had some trouble taking it." Ser Brynden said, smiling grimly. "Why?"
"I was thinking we could cut the head of the snake," Robb continued. "Pull Ser Jaime away from his men where my northmen and I could ambush him."
The Blackfish scratched his jaw. "Aye, that could work. There is a place, the Whispering Wood. There once was a river that ran through it and ended in a small lake. It's dried up now and there's high ground on either side. You can put your cavalry on either side and I'll lead him to you."
"A sound plan Uncle. I will meet you there in two days." Robb said. "Then we shall catch ourselves a lion."
Line Break
The Whispering Wood was the perfect ambush spot. Far enough away from Riverrun, the dried river bed was flanked by ridgelines that sloped down into the gully and the dried lake formed a natural cut off point. The forest around the area grew close together, allowing the northern cavalry to completely disappear amongst the trees.
Robb shifted in his saddle as he looked over the gully. He had divided his cavalry into three divisions. Lord Hawker commanded two thousand men across from Robb's position while Maege Mormont commanded another two thousand further east where the Blackfish would be coming through. Her job was to pick off any enemy trying to flee the battle. Robb commanded the final two thousand riders, supported by his war council and his battle guard.
Robb's battle guard consisted of northern nobles whom Robb had picked as a way of honoring his bannermen. Among them was the Greatjon's son Jon Umber, otherwise known as the 'Smalljon'. Heiress to Bear Island Dacey Mormont, Eddard and Torrhen Karstark, Eyan and Brandon Hawker, Theon, of course, and many others. The only outliers of the group were Ser Perwyn and his brother Olyvar. Both wore leather and chainmail, their shields painted with the sigil of their house.
Altogether, Robb had close to twenty warriors around him.
Greywind was at Robb's side, his eyes ceaselessly roaming the riverbed as he sniffed the wind. He had grown quickly over the past months and was now as big as a large hound, except no hound looked as fearsome as Robb's companion. The young lordling was interested to see how the lannister mounts reacted to the beast.
Robb rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the anxiety inside himself. He wore a mixture of steel-plate and plaited leather over chainmail with a white tabard bearing the grey direwolf of House Stark over it all. He had an oaken shield strapped to his saddle and a longsword at his side. He wore no helm, wanting his men to see who fought beside them.
Theon nudged his horse closer to Robb. He was dressed for war as well, armored from shoulder to thigh with steel plate and chain mail. At his side, he wore a longsword while he had a short bow laid across his lap. He may not have been the swordsman Robb was, but he excelled as an archer.
"You ready?" He asked quietly.
Robb nodded. "Aye. And you?"
Theon smirked. "Let's fuck 'em bloody."
Robb chuckled and turned his attention back towards the gully as the sounds of hooves began to ring through the forest. Like the calm before the storm, the thunder of hundreds of horses became louder as they approached. Soon, war cries and curses could be heard as well.
Robb mentally steeled himself as he drew his sword, gripping the reins of his charger just a bit more. He remembered what his father had said about war when he was younger.
"Don't think. Just allow your instincts to take over. They will keep you alive."
Robb thought back on all the lessons Ser Rodrik had given to him over the years. The elderly knight had trained him with a sword as soon as he could walk. Robb knew that he was ready to fight, now he just needed to prove it.
The gully was suddenly filled with cavalry as rivermen came galloping through, urging their mounts faster as the lannister cavalry gave chase, jeering and shouting curses, thinking that they had finally captured the Blackfish. There seemed to be a thousand of lannister cavalry in the riverbed, turning the area scarlet and gold.
Robb raised his sword, kicking his heels into the flanks of his horse.
"FOR WINTERFELL!" He bellowed, leading his men into the unsuspecting lannisters.
The woods came alive with horsemen as the northern cavalry revealed themselves, echoing Robb's war cry and throwing themselves into the lannisters with reckless abandon. Caught by surprise, the red-clad warriors were trampled and slaughtered as they found themselves caught between three enemies; northmen to either side and now the men of the Riverlands were joining the fight too.
Greywind howled as he lept at an unsuspecting knight, unseating him in a flurry of tooth and claw. The man went down with a cry as he was mauled by the wolf, his horse bolting into the woods as soon as the knight was gone. Other horses reacted to Greywind's scent as well, bucking against their riders in an attempt to get away from the wolf.
Robb's first kill was painfully easy. The man tried to bring his shield up in defense, but Robb's attack was swift and sure, his blade slicing through the man's neck. Leather, skin, muscle, and bone gave way to steel as Heir to Winterfell was sprayed with gore before the man slid off his saddle and to the ground.
Robb didn't have time to acknowledge the kill as he continued forward, his battle guard at his side, howling like banshees as they set upon the enemy, cutting them down wherever they could be found.
Robb did just as his father said, allowing his instincts to take over. He hacked and stabbed his way forward, Greywind always close by, spooking horses and riders alike. From time to time, those at Robb's side shifted. Theon would be at his side, cutting through lannisters when he would be replaced with Dacey Mormont, swinging her mace with terrifying ease, breaking bones and bashing heads. Smalljon and Brandon Hawker went berserk nearby, the two massive men pulling riders bodily from the saddles as their massive blades hacked off arms, legs, and heads.
It seemed like moments, but the battle began to wind down as the combined might of the north and riverlands wiped up the remains of the Lannister host. All that was left were a few pockets of resistance that were being easily scattered and cut down as they were converged on by twice their number.
"Stark!" Someone shouted, their voice breaking through the din of battle.
Robb turned to see the Kingslayer, his golden armor caked with gore. He had rallied many of his men and was now carving a path through Robb's men. Stark could only watch with grim admiration as the Kingslayer cut a literal path to Robb, his sword a glittering wheel and red and silver. It seemed to almost have a life of its own, claiming life with each swing.
Ser Jaime's reputation would forever be stained, but that did not mean that the man was any less deadly. He had become the youngest knight ever named to a Kingsguard for a reason.
Torrhen Karstark roared and charged the infamous knight, Robin Flint right behind him. The two northerners exchanged blows with Ser Jaime, but they too were slain. The Kingslayer shoved his blade through Torrhen's stomach before pulling the sword out and whipping it through Robin's throat, killing both men in a matter of moments.
Before he could resume his direct assault on Robb, dozens of northern soldiers ganged up on the man, scattering his guard and taking the Kingslayer down, overwhelming him through sheer force. Robb breathed a sigh of relief as he moved forward to where Torrhen and Robin were.
Lord Karstark was already on the ground, cradling his son's head. His son Eddard was kneeling next to his father, adding his own tears. Robb dismounted and placed a hand on the old lord's shoulder.
"I'm sorry," he said simply.
"Thank you," was all Lord Karstark muttered.
Robb turned back to his Battle Guard as more of his commander pushed to the front. "Make sure all survivors are captured. We can not allow any word to get back to the lannister camp. We will bury the dead and take care of the wounded." he turned to the Blackfish. "My infantry is a day away. We will meet up with them and prepare our assault on the enemy when we are done here."
Ser Brynden nodded firmly. "It will be done."
"We won a great victory," Robb said, addressing his men as a whole now. "But we are not finished. We will relieve the siege of Riverrun, and with our allies of the Riverlands by our side, we will march on Tywin Lannister and King's Landing!"
The northerners cheered. This was a great victory for Robb Stark and a devastating defeat to the Lannisters. If Tywin Lannister wanted war, then the North and the Riverlands would give him it.