The young king of Westeros looked out over the city from the balcony in his room, watching as the sun rose in the west, its golden rays waking the citizens of King's Landing. Already, Robb could hear the muted sounds of the city as merchants set up shop, smiths fired up their forges, and wagons laden with wares and food were brought into the city. It was a moment of peace that Robb woke up early every morning to take, regardless of whatever had happened the day before.
"You're away early." a sweet, sleepy voice said from behind the king.
Margaery, her hair sweeping like a river over one shoulder, looked as radiant as ever. Dressed in only a light silk robe, she carried the sleeping crowned prince in one arm and had a soft, beautiful smile spread across her equally beautiful face.
Robb himself smiled just by seeing her. He wrapped one arm around his wife, guiding her gently to his side till her head rested on his broad shoulder. Together, the royal family watched as the sun continued to rise.
"How long have you been up?" Robb asked, kissing Margaery on the top of her head.
"Torrhen was fussing. That's when I noticed that you were gone." Margaery answered quietly. "Though, I have noticed your absence for months now."
Robb glanced down at her. "Have you?"
"I'm your wife. Do you think I wouldn't have noticed that you wake at sunrise every morning?" Margaery jokingly asked. "I see why. It is a beautiful sight."
"Not as beautiful as you, my love," Robb responded, kissing Margaery's head once again.
The royal couple continued to watch the sunrise for a few moments longer before Robb felt a massive presence on his other side. Greywind was a giant, and standing on two legs, he was easily taller than the northerner. He always slept in front of the fireplace where he could guard Robb, Margaery, and Torrhen.
Robb rubbed his old friend's head affectionately. "Hullo boy."
Margaery glanced around her husband and chuckled as she saw the look of pleasure on the wolf's face. Greywind was a fearsome monster that was fiercely loyal to the entire royal family. His snap and snarl could make any man lose control of his bowels and as well as his emotions. But around the right people, he was like a giant puppy. Margaery has always found it quite entertaining to see.
"What are your plans today?" Margaery asked quietly as the sun continued to rise and the city below them came to life.
"After breaking my fast with my family," Robb answered, squeezing Margaery's body against his for a moment, "I will meet with the council. After that, Tyrion, Lady Anya, and myself will have another meeting with Master Dimittis about the crown's debt."
Robb's first order since taking the crown had been tackling the debt that Robert and Joffrey had left it in. Thankfully, he had managed to erase the debt owed to the Tyrells and the Lannisters thanks to Tyrion and Margaery, and the debt owed to the Faith had been voided with the destruction of the Starry Sept. All that was left was several small loans that Robb was easily able to pay off. Now, he, Tyrion, and his Mistress of Coin were working with a representative from the Iron Bank on dealing with the crown's debt to them.
"You must be looking forward to that." Margaery chuckled.
Robb snorted. "I can hardly wait. After that, I have a few small meetings with your grandmother about Oldtown, Lord Royce and the progress of King's Company, and Prince Oberyn with an update on Dorne. Then I can finally have lunch." Robb chuckled. "After lunch, I will hold court. After that, Samwell, Tyrion, and I will work through my ever-cluttered desk. Once that is accomplished, we shall have supper and I am yours for the remainder of the night."
"That is not a lot of time to spend with your lady wife." Margaery pouted slightly. "Must you meet with Prince Oberyn? Surely Dorne is fine."
Robb shook his head slightly. "I want the dornish to feel included in my reign. I do as you advise and allow Oberyn to ask for my help before giving help, but I nevertheless offer at the end of every meeting that I am at their service should they need me."
"I believe you showed that after the debacle at High Hermitage," Margaery replied.
Robb chuckled. A few months after the Battle of King's Landing, a rebel dornish faction of Targaryen fanatics managed to take High Hermitage, a castle belonging to a house of landed knights loyal to House Dayne. It was a precarious position for Prince Doran as he did not want to make the faction martyrs to the rest of Dorne. When he saw no other option, he asked Robb for his help.
Robb, Oberyn, and the King's Company traveled to Dorne with Daenerys and her two protectors of Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah. The lady of Dragonstone hoped that she might be able to convince the fanatics to stand down, which is the only reason Robb agreed to let her come. In Dorne, they met with Edric Dayne and his small host of men before they marched on High Hermitage.
Daenerys spoke with the leader of the group, but after asking them to stand down and give up their mission, they had declared her a false Targaryen and had refused to stand down. Robb, along with his host of two thousand men had overpowered the rebels that numbered around eight hundred men. No dornish warrior had taken part in the battle, except Oberyn himself, as the rebels had besmirched Prince Doran as weak and cowardly. It had been the Red Viper who had slain the leader in single combat, taking great pleasure in the kill.
Peace in Dorne was restored after the Storming of High Hermitage. As it turns out, many in the desert realm didn't stand with the rebels as they had no wish to go into another war with the Young Wolf. Prince Doran thanked Robb for not spilling any dornish blood and for taking care of the matter personally. The two factions have had better relations ever since.
"High Hermitage was a start," Robb explained. "Dorne was loyal to the Targaryens for over twenty years, even going so far as to fight for the Lannisters to help them. What's the saying? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?"
"Do you consider Dorne our enemy?" Margaery asked.
Robb shrugged slightly. "I'm still not sure yet, but I am determined to not make them such." The young king glanced down at his wife. "Where do your feet take you today?"
"I have meetings with Ser Davos about ways we can help the city. I am also meeting with Tyrion and the architect from Volantis." Margaery answered.
Ever since Margaery had stepped foot in the city as its queen, she had taken steps to ensure the safety, health, and happiness of its citizens. Her handmaidens, with proper protection and help, visited orphanages all over town with food and toys. Food shipments from the Reach arrived bearing the sigils of House Stark and House Tyrell, letting everyone who ate know who provided the food.
Margaery, with the help of Ser Davos, had even written up a set of guidelines for the Gold Cloaks to follow. It protected the people from abuse at the hands of the city watchmen, to prevent another atrocity like the killing of babes under Joffrey and Janos Slynt. Upon hearing this, a crowd of people, from merchants to whores to bakers to smiths, all came together outside the doors of the Red Keep and cheered for Margaery.
Already, she was getting comparisons to Good Queen Alysanne, one of the most beloved monarchs in all of Westerosi history.
"And after?" Robb asked. The sun was now fully in the sky and the city was well and truly awake. Any moment now, there would be a knock at the door from Robb's kingsguard telling him that breakfast was here.
"Grandmother and I will be going over reports from the Lord Paramounts on how the new ruling system is working and how village and castle repairs are going," Margaery answered. "The King's Company has been a great help to many."
Robb nodded. "I am glad to see it. It is rather odd to see that other kings haven't thought of it before."
"Kings before you haven't paid so much attention to their subjects." Margaery laughed, standing as Torrhen came awake, looking around at the world with a tired, confused look. "Your son is awake."
Robb looked over and smiled, running a gentle hand over the boy's head. The baby saw his hand and opened his mouth, trying to latch onto Robb's thumb as it went by. The parents laughed.
"He's hungry." Margaery chuckled.
"He's definitely my son." Robb joked.
Just as Robb knew would happen, there was a knock at the door. Ser Balon's voice carried through the wood.
"Breakfast, sire."
"Come in," Robb called back, leading his wife back inside and pulling out a chair for her. When she was seated, Robb took off his cloak and threw it at the bed before taking his own seat. There had been an odd chill in the air that didn't leave with the rising sun. Robb rarely had to wear a cloak in King's Landing, but he needed to in the mornings.
Breakfast was brought in and Robb and Margaery dined on eggs, fruit, cheese, fresh bread and butter, and all manner of cooked meats. There were also pitchers of fruit juice and cold water.
With the servants bringing breakfast, a wetnurse and Mira arrived as well. The wetnurse had taken Torrhen away to feed while Mira sat and spoke with the royals about Margaery's plans for the day.
The daughter of Gregor Forrester had been nothing but spectacular. She and Margaery worked in perfect tandem, with Mira making sure that all of the queen's appointments were set up and all her ladies-in-waiting and handmaidens were staying busy. Essentially, Mira took care of every small detail that surrounded Margaery's life, allowing her queen to focus on whatever she was working on.
Robb sometimes wished he had such a helper.
The two royals enjoyed their breakfast without any talk of work. Their daily lives were so consumed with running the realm that Lady Olenna had suggested that they try their best to avoid it whenever possible, allowing them to shed the heavy burden of the crown at least for a few moments. Instead, they shared interesting stories, childhood memories, and general small talk. After almost an hour, Mira coughed apologetically.
"I'm afraid it's time, my lady," she said quietly. As always, Mira was conscious of her mistress's wants, but she also knew that as queen, Margaery had a duty that she could not miss.
Robb stood and helped his wife out of her chair before Margaery and Mira disappeared behind a changing screen for privacy. While Margaery prepared for the day, Robb quickly garbed himself in a black leather doublet over a white silk shirt. Slipping on a pair of black breeches before finishing his look with a pair of calf-high black boots. His first month of kingship had been filled with northern leathers before Margaery had begged him to try southern clothing. He soon found how much better they were, especially in the southern sun, but he still regularly wore plaited leather jerkins and woolen shirts and trousers. He was, above all else, a man of the North.
Robb was adding a silver wolf head brooch when Margaery reappeared, dressed in a beautiful southern dress of gold and white. It was close to the kind of dress she wore when she and Robb first met in Renly's war camp. Her hair had also been set up in a few ornate braids that were tied back.
"You look beautiful." Robb praised, quickly kissing his wife.
"Silver-tongued devil." Margaery chuckled. "Mira, who is watching Torrhen?"
"Your cousin Alla, my lady," Mira answered immediately. The girl from Ironrath always knew who was supposed to be with the crown prince.
"And who is after her?" Margaery asked.
"Alysanne Bulwer, my lady." Mira replied without hesitation.
Robb smirked, grabbing Claw and sliding the sword into his belt. "It's too bad there aren't more of you, Mira. I could use twenty."
"You are doing great, sire," Mira said. "My lady, your meeting with Ser Seaworth."
"Indeed," Margaery said. "I will see you at lunch?"
Robb kissed his wife again before smiling. "I wouldn't miss it for all the gold under Casterly Rock."
Tyrion Lannister
As Tyrion waddled through the Red Keep towards the Small Council Chambers, he couldn't stop himself from looking back at the past year. The Young Wolf's rule has been spectacular so far. The realm, even after a war, is already prospering far more than Tyrion thought possible. The Reach seemed to have an endless supply of food, and the Riverlands were starting to produce again as well. The garrisons in the Westerlands and the Crownlands were all being replaced with locals and the northerners and reachmen were finally going home.
Westeros was at peace and the few places that had been savaged during the war were being rebuilt at speeds that staggered Tyrion. Oldtown, Winterfell, King's Landing, and so many other important castles and cities that had once been burning wrecks were now functioning once again even while they continued to be rebuilt.
What had truly surprised Tyrion was the king himself. Margaery Tyrell was her grandmother's prodigy and continued to prove it time and again with her shrewd diplomacy, but Robb Stark's work ethic and commitment to his people were truly astounding. He checked in every other week with both Tyrion and Oberyn, men who had once been his enemies, to make sure that their respective homelands were doing well. He was also receiving scheduled updates from his uncle, father, and sister in the Riverlands, the North, and the Vale respectively.
Robb Stark had a hand in every kingdom, from the Wall to Dorne, and still made time to run the realm, attend Small Council meetings, hold court, train with his great-uncle and Kingsguard, and write letters to his family in the Vale and the North.
To a point, he was doing better than the last four kings combined. In a single year, Robb Stark was proving to be more competent than Robert Baratheon and Aegon Targaryen and was certainly saner than Joffrey and the Mad King.
Tyrion finally made it to the Small Council Chambers, finding his way to his seat while others on the council took theirs as well. Lord Royce and Lady Anya were chatting quietly to themselves. Lord Mallister and Lord Tarly were talking about how the Iron Islands were fairing. The Master of Whispers, Alec Reed, was no doubt swapping secrets with the Queen of Thorns, and the Grand Maester was quietly reading a book. It was a much better scene than Joffrey's Small Council meetings, where his so-called councilors were throwing thinly-veiled insults at each other, all led by Tyrion's sister.
"Good Morning," Tyrion said pleasantly to the large man. The new Grand Maester was a bit of a hesitant fellow, but Tyrion had soon found that they both shared a love of books and that's what they usually spoke about.
"What are we reading today, Grand Maester?"
The man looked up from the text, a sort of surprised look on his face. Tyrion had also found that the man seemed to lose track of time and his surroundings whenever his head was buried in a book. It was amusing how many times the king had accidentally startled the Grand Maester at the start of meetings.
"Archmaester Tarvan's Glossary of Medical Knowledge," Samwell answered, glancing at the cover before answering.
"Seems a bit on the nose, no?" Tyrion joked.
Samwell shrugged. "The maester in Harvest Hall sent a raven asking about a peculiar rash he found on one of Lord Selmy's men."
Tyrion raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what have you found?"
Samwell closed the book as the king entered, flanked by his kingsguard commander, Brienne of Tarth. An abnormally large and extremely intimidating woman who was very skilled with the valyrian steel sword she carried.
"Perhaps another time," Tyrion said quietly as the king and his commander took the last open seats.
"Thank you all for being here this morning." the king said, greeting his council. He leaned forward and rested both arms on the table. "Lord Tyrion, what news is there?"
Tyrion glanced at his notes. "I can not say much, my lord. The rebuilding of Oldtown and Winterfell is progressing well and should be finished on schedule, if not earlier. As for King's Landing, the queen and I are set to meet with Master Aros today to see where we can implement sewers through the city."
The queen had been most eager to make her mark on the city. She had hired a famous architect from Volantis, and with Tyrion's help, the three of them were currently looking at ways to better the city. The first thing the queen wanted to be done was to rid the city of its stench. Tyrion and Master Aros were more than happy to accommodate her.
The king nodded. "What of the Riverlands?"
"Lord Edmure reports that the people are happy. Thoros and his men have crossed the region and are helping where they can, as you ordered." Tyrion answered. "Their job is much easier now that the Bloody Mummers are gone."
Tyrion had been particularly happy to hear about that group being wiped from the continent. The company that his father had hired from Essos had been a nasty band of savages who had clashed several times with the Brotherhood Without Banners during the War of Five Kings. After Robb Stark took the throne, the roles were soon reversed. The Brotherhood became the King's Company while the Bloody Mummers became outlaws. After months of tracking them and slowly whittling down their number, the last of the group, including their leader Vargo Hoat, had been trapped in the ruins of Oldstones and put to the sword.
"Very good. Anything else?"
Tyrion shook his head. "No, sire, nothing of dire importance."
"Thank you." the king said before casting his gaze on the lady of Ironoaks. "Lady Anya, how much is our debt?"
"We are still hovering around a million dragons," the older woman answered with slight resignation. "I believe our meeting with Master Dimmittis will prove fruitful and we should pay off the Iron Bank by this time next year at the latest."
"How early do you think we can pay it off?" Robb asked curiously.
"Four to six months, sire." Lady Anya reported. "Lord Tyrion's suggestion to tax the brothels helped immensely once that tax was spread to all of Westeros, but it has also pushed potential….clients away as the brothels are becoming more and more expensive."
"So we are not earning as much," Robb said with a slight nod. "Master Reed, see if you can spread the word in the brothels letting them know that the tax will be lessened in six months if they lower their prices."
"I will see it done, my lord." The slight and somber spymaster replied.
Alec Reed, a former member of the Company of the Rose, was like Varys in some ways and in other ways not. He did not play word games as the Spider did, but he was still a mysterious man who seemed to always have an answer and had no problem accomplishing a task.
"Is there any way to make a little more money?" the king asked, asking the question to the entire council.
"With your five percent rule, it has affected trade very slightly," Tyrion answered, "but the fact is, and I do not mean to step on Lady Anya's toes, that paying off debt as massive as that owed to the Iron Bank is not possible in a year. That fact that we have gotten it down by two million in that short amount of time is a miracle, but since we are repairing the city, paying the King's Company, and have half a dozen other major projects going on, being able to pay off the debt in a little under a year is still amazing."
The king nodded. Tyrion found that, like war, the young king liked to move swiftly to deal with matters, which was great because it eliminated many potential headaches for both him and Tyrion. However, the have been occasions where the king has been too anxious to see progress and Tyrion had to remind him that certain things, like paying off debt, took time.
"Lord Royce, how are Thoros and his men doing?" Robb asked, continuing around the table.
The King's Company was not a sellsword company, but a group of mounted soldiers two thousand strong loyal only to the crown. It was the largest standing force that the crown could afford at the moment. It had been built around the remains of the Brotherhood Without Banners. After Beric Dondarrion had gone home and Edric Dayne had taken up his seat of Starfall, Thoros of Myr had taken leadership of the group. It currently traveled around the realm, dealing with bandits and helping people get back on their feet. Hedge knights and men looking for adventure alike scrambled to join the group following the king's announcement of its creation. The company communicated with Lord Royce through messenger hawk, an idea that the king had borrowed from Lord Hawker and his brother Bowden in the North.
"There have been reports from Lord Willas about a band of pirates prowling around the mouth of the Mander. Thoros has sent Ser Felton Flowers and two hundred men to track down and take care of them. Other than that, all raiders and criminals that the company captures are given the same options: manual labor or hanging." Lord Royce rumbled from his spot down the table. "Many have not chosen the noose."
"That is good to hear," Robb said. "Send word to Thoros and tell him to offer them a chance to take the Black. I hate to send more criminals north, but I have received encouraging reports from the last captain who sailed to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. The Night's Watch is growing stronger, slowly and surely. What is the state of the city watch?"
"Seaworth has an able band of warriors," Royce answered proudly. "Any remains of corruption from Joffrey or Robert have been stamped out. Loyal and capable men have filled the ranks under the Onion Knight."
"I have heard rumors that Seaworth might soon retire." Lord Mallister asked curiously. "Have you considered his replacement?"
Royce shook his head. "I have left that decision to Seaworth himself. I am not too worried. Seaworth has surrounded himself with good men."
"I was unaware that Seaworth was considering stepping down." The king said.
"It may be just a rumor, your grace," Royce answered calmly. "After working with the man for a year, I am confident that he won't leave until the city is back on its feet and he has a suitable man to follow after him."
This was how many Small Council meetings went. The Young Wolf would go around the table, receiving reports from his councilors. Then he would open up the table to discuss other issues, usually coming from the Master of Whispers. The meetings were very different from the ones Tyrion attended during Joffrey's reign. There was no bickering, thinly veiled threats, or subtle wordplay. The men and women in the chamber spoke plainly and with great respect to each other. The biggest difference was the king himself, who listened to each and every conversation, even if he wasn't a part of it. He was attentive and interested in all that was being said.
The first king in over twenty years who was taking an interest in the affairs of his kingdom.
"Lord Mallister, how goes the rebuilding of the royal fleet?" Robb asked.
The royal fleet under Joffrey consisted mainly of ships from houses in the Crownlands. The Targaryen invasion has destroyed that fleet. The ships that had carried the Targaryen army had returned to Pentos after the battle, leaving the new king with no fleet and very few ships on the eastern side of Westeros.
Thankfully, Jorah Fisher, another recently returned northern lord from the Company of the Rose, pledged half of his fleet, twenty-five braavosi-built warships, to the creation of a new royal fleet. Those along with another fifty ships from the dismantling of the Iron Fleet gave Lord Mallister a solid foundation to build from.
"Construction of five more ships have begun, my lord. One carrack, three dromonds, and one longship." The Lord of Seaguard answered. "We should have them all done within a month, or more with the carrack."
Tyrion had been down to the harbor with Lord Mallister out of pure curiosity to see how the fleet was coming along. With this last carrack being constructed, that would give the man thirty of such vessels. The Master of Ships had told Tyrion that the carracks would be the 'iron heart' of the fleet, plowing through the enemy while the longships and dromonds herded them into the path of destruction.
It was a good plan since each carrack was adorned with maneuverable scorpions, two at the stern and two on both port and starboard, a small, maneuverable catapult at the bow, and an iron-clad ram set just below the waterline. Given the size of the vessel, they were the only kind of ship capable of being equipped in such a way. Dromonds were mighty in their own right, especially Seaworth's ship King Robert's Hammer, but a fully equipped carrack could take on two or three dromonds by itself.
"When do you feel like the fleet will be at full strength?" Robb asked.
Mallister checked his notes. "With the ships being built now, that will give us thirty carracks, just under thirty dromonds, and close to a hundred longships. I say another half a year, four months at the earliest should see us in good stead."
"Very well." The king said. "Lord Tarly, anything to add?"
The lord of Lannisport shook his head. "No, sire."
The new lord of Lannisport did not have much to do in the past year. He did spend a few months in the Vale and the Reach, testing out his and the king's ideas. It involved lords training their men-at-arms every other month to ensure better quality troops when marching to war. The king and the Master of War were also toying with an idea about creating a standing army, but an idea like that would need a lot of funding and planning, and so the idea was just that at the moment; an idea.
"Brienne," Robb said, looking to his final advisor.
"Eyan has compiled a list of what he needs, as well as what it may cost." Commander Brienne answered firmly. "It has been copied and given to Lady Waynwood."
Tyrion couldn't help a smile from touching his face. Eyan Hawker was the commander of the king's household guard. Five hundred knights and warriors from all across Westeros, save for Dorne, the Iron Islands, and the Westerlands. The group of soldiers had adopted the name 'The Wolfguard'. Every warrior was hoping for a grey cloak and the knights were asking for a single pauldron in the shape of a snarling wolf. Tyrion could imagine what they would look like and was impressed.
The king looked towards his Mistress of Coin. "Lady Anya, can the crown afford such a luxury?"
The Lady of Ironoaks shook her head sadly. "I'm afraid not, my lord. After the debt to the Iron Bank is paid off, perhaps, but it will take some time before I would be comfortable with such spending."
"Of course," Robb said with a nod. "My lords, my lady, I open the meeting to you all. Is there anything that you feel should be discussed?"
"The Free Cities are still not happy with us." Alec Reed said. "Many of the mercenary companies have banded together to survive, making them a rarity and extremely expensive for Free Cities to hire."
"What cities still trade with us?" Tyrion asked.
"Braavos, Pentos, Norvos, Lorath, Qohor, and Volantis." Master Reed answered. "Myr, Lys, and Tyrosh are the only ones who are angered. The other cities have armies of their own and don't rely too much on sellswords."
"Is there anything that can be done to improve our relations?" the king asked, glancing at Tyrion.
"I'm afraid not," Tyrion answered. "We did not do anything wrong, my lord. The three factions will get over their anger eventually as the companies rebuild themselves. There is no shortage of swords for hire in the eastern continent."
"What of Varys?" Robb asked.
"The Spider remains in Pentos," Reed answered. "He is a guest to Illyrio Mopatis, his old friend."
Tyrion wasn't happy that Varys was still alive. The eunuch had been a spy in the court of Joffrey and Robert and had set up the downfall of Tyrion's house. After the Targaryens had been defeated by Robb, Varys had shipped himself off to Essos to live comfortably with his friend Mopatis in Pentos. The only reason he would be there would be because the Targaryen girl no longer trusted him, and that was some good news that Tyrion held onto regarding the former Master of Whispers.
"He's still dangerous," Tyrion warned.
"His power in Westeros is strong, but since he is no longer on the continent, I have been able to turn more of Baelish's agents than he has," Reed said. "I do not disagree that he is a threat to the realm given that knowledge is power, but he has no backing other than that of his friend. Daenerys Targaryen no longer trusts him."
"Why is that again?" Lord Mallister asked.
"He is the one who set up the betrothal between her and Aegon," Reed explained. "She blames him for the ensuing battle with his grace because he vouched for the Golden Company, Aegon, and Jon Connington. We all know their part in the attempt on the king's life."
"Keep an eye on him." the king ordered, although it was an order that Reed has been following ever since the Spider had fled the capital. "What else is there?"
"Your Grace, I have heard reports of wildlings massing beyond the Wall." Alec Reed said.
The king raised an eyebrow. "Has a King-Beyond-the-Wall been named?"
"Rumors are that it is a man named Mance Rayder. A former brother of the Watch." Reed answered.
"A few savages banding together isn't too much to worry about." Lady Olenna said, speaking for the first time. She did not have an official seat on the council, but she served as a royal advisor, a position that Jon Stark had shared with her before he had left to take up his seat in the North.
"I fear that it may, my lady," Reed replied grimly. "Reports from my friends at the Wall say that the host numbers over fifty thousand."
Whatever was going to be said next was silenced. While men like Royce, Tarly, and Mallister did not take much notice of the Wall and the strength of the Night's Watch, the king most certainly did. The muscles in his jaw tightened as his eyes changed from a cool blue to ice.
"The Night's Watch has barely a thousand men," Robb said finally. "Has word been sent to my father?"
Reed nodded. "It has, but the North will need help. Most of the northern army is back home collecting whatever harvest they can. The war, the ironborn invasion, and the Boltons' tyranny cost them much."
"Your grace, we need more information before we call the banners," Tyrion said calmly, immediately following the spymaster's words. "A host of fifty thousand is nothing to scoff at, but I advise that we send someone to get a full report of what we're facing."
The king gazed at Tyrion for a moment before looking at the grand maester. "Samwell, you spent a little time at the Wall. Do you know anything that might help?"
The grand maester looked a little uneasy but finally answered after a moment. "Your Grace, I spent less than a month at Castle Black. But from my time there and at the Citadel, my understanding is that wildlings are fur-clad barbarians who wield weapons of bronze or stone. One advantage that they would have over men from the south is fighting in the cold. No one other than a northerner could endure the weather better than a wildling."
There was a small grunt of approval from Lord Tarly, who was looking at his son with an odd expression of cold respect. Tyrion wasn't sure what the relationship between father and son was there, but the rumor was that it was supposedly better after the story of Samwell repelling the ironborn raiders in the Citadel and saving King Robb's life after an assassination attempt from the Golden Company.
Robb nodded. "Send a message to my brother at Long Lake. He is to travel to the Wall, compile a full report on the strength of the Night's Watch, and send it to my father and me. He is also to scope out the land beyond the Wall and the strength of the enemy."
"Yes, my lord," Samwell replied.
"Is there anything else to discuss?" The King asked, looking around the table. When no one spoke up, he got up, his Kingsguard right behind him. "Very well. The council is adjourned."