The men cheered as the men of the Riverlands trooped in, the Blackfish and the other lords of the Riverlands leading them. Twelve thousand men, six thousand foot and cavalry, fresh and rested after their battle at the Twins. Robb couldn't help but feel relieved.
As the reinforcements set up their camp, Robb met with his uncle and the others at the top of the hill, where their tents were added to the cluster.
"Uncle," Robb said, clasping arms with the Blackfish. "It looks like you didn't lose too many men taking the Crossing."
"We got lucky, your grace," The Blackfish answered. "Jon found us a way to get on the other side of the river. We surprised the bastards in the eastern keep while Hawker assaulted the western side."
"How did Jon find a way across the Green Fork?" Robb asked curiously.
The Blackfish shot Edmure with a dirty look before answering. "Edmure got drunk and told the Imp of a secret ford that is only known to the Tullys." Ser Brynden explained. "Then the Imp got drunk and told Jon."
"It was an accident," Edmure said weakly.
Robb nodded. "Nevertheless, perhaps it was for the best. We could have lost a lot more men without that knowledge."
"I see your own force has lost many men." The Blackfish commented grimly. "The Lion had claws?"
"Desert snakes." Robb scowled.
Ser Brynden raised an eyebrow. "So the dornish joined the lannisters after all."
"Bastards surprised us from the east when the lannisters center was moments from breaking," Robb explained. "I sent out the call to retreat almost immediately. There was no way we could have countered Tywin's trap. All our men were committed to the attack."
"You saved more by getting them out of there." The Blackfish said, a knowing look in his eye. "No point in grumbling about it now. We live to fight another day."
"Aye, and that's what we plan to do," Robb said, motioning for the group of riverlords to follow him. "I refuse to run from Tywin again. We dig in and break the buggers here."
Robb led them over to the eastern edge of the hill overlooking what would soon be the battlefield. Men were hard at work digging trenches in the side of the hill under the supervision of Lucas Blackwood and several captains. Further down, Lord Forrester and Garlan were mounted and watching as men dug more trenches and set up stakes.
"It's not curtain walls, arrow slits, and a moat, but it will serve our purposes," Robb explained.
While the rest of the lords spoke with one another about what they saw, the Blackfish stepped closer to Robb, dropping his voice so that only the northern king could hear him.
"How many men does Tywin have?" Ser Brynden whispered.
"Some thirty thousand," Robb responded. "With dornish make up a third of his number and they're all mounted."
"How many mounted men do we have?"
"Eleven thousand counting your men." Robb sighed.
"Any tricks up the sleeve?"
Robb shook his head. "Not this time, Uncle. We hold here."
"And if we can't?"
"I have a system of riders set up between here, Riverrun, and Tarly's encampment at Casterly Rock. I also have another rider at Riverrun prepared to go north to Jon should things go ill here. He will watch out for Margaery and Tarly will finish what we started."
The Blackfish patted Robb on the shoulder. "Then we best not lose and get you back to your golden rose."
Line Break
"My lords, welcome back," Robb said, nodding to the lords of the Riverlands. "Your help is vitally important as you are well aware."
"What is our plan for Tywin, your grace?" Lord Mallister asked, getting right to the point.
"We make his life hell," Robb said simply. "Ser Brynden and Garlan will each hold the flank with the cavalry we have. The archers will be under Lord Blackwood. The infantry shall be under Lord Forrester."
"How far away is Tywin?" Edmure asked.
"He will reach our position tomorrow," Robb replied grimly. "I will not mince words, my lords. We lost all of our advantages at Harrenhal when the dornish cavalry blindsided us. We both boast some thirty thousand men, though the Lannisters have the slight edge thanks to their new allies."
"Any word from Lord Tarly?" Ser Donnel asked.
Robb nodded. "Lord Tarly is marching east with thirty thousand men, just under half of the force he took with him into the west. But he has yet to reach the Golden Tooth. We can not rely on his help for this fight."
The air seemed stale in the tent. When they had all been at Riverrun last, there had been so much energy in the air. Tarly took eighty thousand men west to conquer Lannisport and Casterly Rock. Jon Snow and the Blackfish had marched north to deal with the traitorous Freys and Boltons with the remaining strength of the North and Riverlands, some thirty thousand foot and cavalry. That left Robb with forty-one thousand men to deal with Tywin Lannister and the last of his westermen and his crownlander allies. Thirty-five thousand men in all.
The war would have been over in one fell swoop if Robb had not underestimated his opponent.
Then again, not even the most learned archmaester could have predicted an alliance between the Lions of Casterly Rock and the Princes of Sunspear.
"We all know the consequences of defeat," Robb said gravely. "We best find our beds or a septon. Whichever you prefer."
The lords nodded and left. Garlan waited behind so that he could speak with Robb, but the King in the North had disappeared as well.
Robb strode out of the tent, Greywind at his heels as he swung his cloak over his shoulders. He was looking for one person.
"Olyvar." Robb called when he finally caught sight of his squire.
The young man jumped at Robb's voice. He was around a fire with a few more squires, all of which stood and bowed quickly to Robb as he approached. They were all munching on warmed, salted pork and bread from the cook's tent.
"Yes, your grace?" Olyvar asked, grabbing his cloak.
"Saddle my horse," Robb ordered, turning away before his squire had a chance to answer.
The King in the North waited patiently while his squire readied his horse, gazing out over land below the hill. It was a clear, windless night. The stars and the moon shined from the heavens, barely illuminating the land.
"Where are you going, your grace?" Olyvar asked curiously, leading the horse away from the others.
"To consult the gods," Robb answered, hauling himself up onto the saddle. "I will be back by morning."
"Should I find any of your guards?" Olyvar asked.
Robb shook his head. "Claw and Greywind are all I need. Plenty of time to die tomorrow." Robb clapped his heels into his mount and set off down the hill, Greywind easily matching the horse's pace.
Olyvar watched his king ride away, still wondering if he would ever understand the northern king.
Line Break
Robb finished tying the reins of his horse to a sturdy branch before making his way towards the massive heart tree. His scouts had reported its existence in an ancient and crumbling holdfast leftover from the era of the First Men. It was nearly as big as the Hearttree in Winterfell.
Robb fell to his knees before the tree, holding Claw point down in his hands as his head rested on his chest. He stayed that way for almost an hour, controlling his breathing and simply allowing himself to exist.
"I am unsure what to do." Robb said quietly, looking up and into the red, bleeding eyes that had been carved into the trunk of the tree. "This is my first time facing failure like this and without my father, I am lost."
"Are you?" A woman's voice chuckled.
Robb's head snapped up. "Who goes there?" He asked, preparing to draw his sword.
"There is no need for that Nephew." A man's voice said. "You are here to consult the gods for advice. We are the advisors."
From behind the tree, two figures appeared, looking as real as any mortal people. Yet their voices sounded like they were speaking from far off. The man was tall and handsome, with long, dark hair and steel grey eyes. He wore northern armor and had an odd scar around his throat. He wore a smirk beneath the stubble and had laugh lines around his eyes. He was obviously a man who smiled a lot, and his eyes twinkled with humor.
The woman was beautiful, but not in the way Margaery was. Margaery was like a flower, delicate and pristine. This woman had a wild beauty to her. Like the man, she had long brown-black hair and steel-grey eyes. She was dressed in a simple grey dress and her hair was pulled back in a loose and simply braid that frayed slightly, but that only added to her beauty. There was pride in the way she held herself that was very similar to how Arya held herself, but without the uncertainty that came with Arya's age. The one thing that stood out was the blue rose that was tucked behind one of the woman's ears.
"Nephew?" Robb muttered. They both looked like Starks. Then it clicked. "Uncle Brandon and Aunt Lyanna?"
Lyanna smiled. "I was afraid that you would not recognize us." She said, her voice caring and kind. "We are happy to see you, Robb, though we are sad that we meet in such circumstances."
"How are the Old Gods making this happen?" Robb asked.
Brandon knocked against the tree. "The Old Gods do not have much power south of the Neck, but where there is a weirwood, the Old Gods have some power."
"Is my father with you?" Robb asked hopefully.
Lyanna and Brandon shared a look, with Lyanna shaking her head slightly before answering Robb's question. "We do not have much time for questions Robb. We must say what we came here to say then we must go. While the gods have power, it is limited this far south."
Robb nodded, getting to his feet and sliding his sword back into his war belt. "Of course, sorry."
Brandon crossed his arms and leaned against the tree. "You fear that you might die tomorrow." He said bluntly. "You fear that you have led yourself and your men to death."
Robb nodded reluctantly. "All tactical wisdom points to returning to Riverrun, but I can't bring myself to run from Tywin again."
"That is the wolf blood in your veins, Robb." Lyanna explained. "All Starks are blessed and cursed with it. For Brandon and myself, it led to our deaths. You are one of the few who is blessed with just the right amount. Just as Ned is."
"Wolf blood is pride, though, isn't it?" Robb asked. "Wildness."
"In some cases." Brandon sighed. "For Ned, it is shown in his determination and stubborn honor and honesty. It is too soon to say what it is for you, but it is clear that you have it in you lad."
"Will my men die because of it?" Robb asked.
Lyanna shook her head. "We can not tell you the future. Torrhen told you as much. What we can tell you is this: do not give up on your men, not should you go into battle thinking that you will lose."
"Embrace death as a true warrior, a true wolf." Brandon continued. "Fight with your men, Robb, and take as many of the red bastards with you. Let the fates decide who lives and die."
"And if I should die?" Robb asked after a moment.
"Then trust that your family is in good hands." Lyanna said with a smile. "There is a reason Ned left you to watch over Winterfell and not another. There is a reason you gave Jon command of the northern army and not another. You never give up on family, and they will never give up on you."
Robb nodded, absorbing everything that his aunt and uncle had said. After a while, he looked back up, but they were gone.
"Would my father be proud of me?" Robb asked to the tree.
"Yes." Brandon and Lyanna answered back.