good at this sort of role,but I'm also injured." Daryn said. "I should stay with you."
"True, if your injury gets wet you risk getting it infected." Merry said, nodding her head.
Ranma thought for a moment the nodded. "That's a point. I'll send you with the wounded to lead their guard then. Dacey in that case you're in charge. You've got the most experience in leading infantry, sorry Roger, Hathan, but that's true."
Both men nodded equably, though Dacey frowned. "I'm not certain I'm the best for this, I'd prefer to put Arya in charge. You two don't seem to realize it but you Starks have built up a tremendous well of trust among the armsmen, even the Riverlanders now especially after this last battle."
"No chance of that." Arya said waving her hands in the air wildly. "I'll be the first into battle, that's fine but I'm not about to lead other people. I don't have the experience, the age, or the temperament. You've got all three Dacey."
"Are you calling me old, girl?" Dacey glared at the younger one girl who smirked back at her.
"Enough." Ranma laughed amused at his sister's attitude. Still, eventually Arya would be leading other people. This attack had shown that she had the temperament to do it if she tried. It had been Arya gathering men and leading them to the supply area that had really saved the day and would allow Ranma to continue with his campaign. "In any event, pick out your men then lead them straight west, then find a place to hide out until we're well away. Daryn, you'll head north for Fairmarket with the injured, while the rest of us will head straight south for a day, then northeast drawing off any attention."
"We'll be down to a bare four thousand men totalif we send off enough of a force with Dacey to do any good." Patrek, who had quietly become Ranma's aide-de-camp since Jon had left, warned. "I'm not arguing against it, I'm just telling you that we won't have enough men to perform any miracles."
"We don't need miracles, we just need Lord Tywin's attention firmly on us. That we can do." Ranma smiled, clapping the other young man on the shoulder.
Within an hour the army was once more organized and ready to march, with Merry frantically running every which way, trying to organize the injured, their stretchers and their caretakers. Taking care of the injured from this latest battle had nearly run through the army's medical supplies, but despite that Merry refused to go with them, sending off two of maester Martyn's more senior helpers to watch over them.
"With maester Martyn dead, you'll need someone here, and while I'm not fully trained, I'm the best we've still got!" She replied firmly to Ranma's subtle attempt to suggest she go with them.
At the look and the younger girl's eyes Ranma backed away his hands in the air placating me all right. "All right, all right Merry, I won't push."
Rickard and Patrek organized the supplies, giving Dacey enough to let them head off. She, the remaining wolfsworn and four hundred men broke off and headed west within the hour. The rest of the army with Ranma, Meera, Patrek, Silas and Rickard still leading them headed straight south, to once more prick the lion's tail.
Ranma didn't push the army very hard that first day heading straight south, and they stopped and put up camp almost within sight of castle Lolliston again. He let them rest for the rest of the day and into the night, before moving off again. Thankfully, Lord Plumm had indeed used all of his men in that night attack leaving only a few scouts, none of whom were inclined to try and get the army's attention. So it was easy enough movement for that day and the next, where they were in sight of the Red Fork.
At that point Ranma's scouts warned that they were beginning to run into more and more of their opposite numbers. One of them however, was able to break through and come back. "They've got a major camp up there my Lord," he reported staring over at Ranma and his own Lord,Shawney. "I saw a lot of banners, including the Lannister lion."
"Gooood…" Ranma smirked. "In that case, I think it's time for us to go east again."
"Northeast, or just east?" Silas asked.
"We'll mix it up, but we want to move east regardless. We want to give Dacey and her crew at least four days to get over the Red Fork, let alone to actually get to where they can do some good. And we need to keep Tywin's attention completely on us, on what he is trying to do to us. So much so he isn't worried about his own defense."
Over the next five days the army backtracked slightly then marched east, but almost immediately they began to run into more blocking forces. For now however, Ranma and his army did not seek out battle, trying to wend their way through them. It got so bad however that their options were slowly disappearing. Meera's scouts, with strict orders to avoid action, had found that Tywin was closely following them, his army broken into smaller groups, each of which could move faster than the total could. The one Meera's scouts' reported was larger alone than Ranma's remaining men. And Ranma and his officers knew there were more out there, each one moving in a slightly different direction in an attempt to catch or at least take away some of Ranma's choices on where to lead his army.
Eventually Ranma had to make the decision to punch through one of the holding forces quickly rather than going around it. Meera found the one in the worst position, but even so, it cost his army over two hundred dead, and slowed them further with even more injured. Still they kept going with Tywin and the others on their heels.
Tywin thinks he's almost got us, that we cut it too fine when we turned away from the Red Fork. Ranma mused while loping along at the front of the army, Fenris beside him. Good, or rather it will be if we can keep from actually being caught. That however was going to be a tall order now that they were practically retracing their steps, heading further east towards the Ruby Ford. The line is set, now we just need to keep out of the lion's jaws long enough for the trap to spring.
OOOOOOO
While Ranma and Tywin were conducting their gains, Daenerys and her force had reached the Ruby Ford after the carpenters built enough barges to get the small force down the river. It was slow and very irritating going in terms of river travel, yet it might be worth it in the long term considering this way allowed them to build the barges, which could be useful later, and to stay away from the Ruby Ford for long enough for Ranma and his force to drag every scout Tywin had after them.
Daenerys had also used this time to thoroughly exhaust both of her dragons so that they were willing to remain hidden in their carts for a few days after their arrival. Her own presence would come out quickly, but the dragons, they were a hidden card for now, or at least, both she and Ranma hoped they were. Since Tywin was with his army and away from anyone who could send him rumors, this was a possibility they both thought worth pursuing for a time.
Nonetheless, Rhaegon began to act out barely a few hours after they boarded the barges. By the end of the day Sunfyre had joined him. However Daenerys chanced upon a solution. While warging with them she sent the growing draklings the image of the two of them from her perspective hiding in the carts prepared for them, then superimposed it with one of the direwolves stalking a bear through a forest.
After that the two dragons had thankfully realized what was going on and settled down somewhat, another sign they were much more intelligent than any of the books Daenerys had read when she was younger. She idly wondered if it was a side effect of her connecting mind to mind with them, but she certainly wasn't complaining either way. Though Rhaegon still grumbled occasionally, he did so while hiding in his cart, and Sunfyre seemed content to laze about for a few days after having been worked so hard for a few days prior to that.
As they came close to the Ruby Ford they began to see both more signs of habitation and of the presence of an army. Several dozen riders began to follow the barges down the river, and one or two of them cheered seeing the banner of House Mallister. About a day after that they reached the actual Ruby Ford, an almost mile-long area where the Blue Fork met the Green Fork. Both rivers slowed down here and were not nearly as deep as normal for most of their length, the water of the Ford coming up to only need knee height on most men.
The ford had been created by the Riverlords long ago, though the name 'the Ruby Ford' had only been given it after Robert's Rebellion where he fought Prince Rhaegar. Rumor (and pro-Baratheon propaganda) said Robert slew Rhaegar with a massive blow from his warhammer, which had shattered his armor, sending the rubies that had been inset into it into the water of the ford. Jason said that was accurate, having been there in that battle with the Riverlands forces arrayed behind Lord Tully. He then went on to say that the rumor refrained from mentioning how people from both sides stopped fighting to try to dive into the water to pick up the rubies.
That was rather beside the point at the moment however.
Smalljon was on the lead barge, with the banner of House Umber flying next to him alongside Jason Mallister and his banner. He looked on the defenses thrown up on the northern side of the Ford and smiled approvingly. Several lines of ditches and several bulwarks had been thrown up, combined with five raised platforms further back from the line and what looked like four catapults set up to hammer any force coming across the Ford. It was an impressive display.
"Very nice." Smalljon murmured. Then he shouted aloud as men from the defenses came out to greet them. Many of them wore House Umber colors, and the banner of house Umber, Greatjon's banner, and the Stark banner flew on a camp he could see in the distance behind the defensive lines. "My complements to whoever designed this place!"
"That would be me!" Said a young man, coming forward. He was dressed as a worker, and would have disappeared into the crowd if not for his voice, which was one that had been trained for war. "Vincent Ryger at your service! You would be Smalljon correct? Lord Jason needs no introduction." By that point the men had reached the edge of the defensive area, and he was waving then forward to help pull the barges to the side of the Ford.
The barges clattered together, grounding on the Blue Fork section of the Ford, and the men began to haul themselves out while more men from the defensive lines came forward to help them.
"Well met Vincent." Said Jason, leaping over the side to land knee-deep in the water of the Ford. He moved forward clasping the younger man's arm warmly. "I should've known you would be the one to have designed the defenses here. Your father always did say that you preferred to think up construction projects rather than riding or hunting."
"Not so much anymore, alas." The younger man replied laughing and Smalljon took a moment to watch him. Vincent was dressed simply like any normal armsmen would in camp. His hair was a light brown color, shaggy at present with a scar cutting across his chin which might be why he hadn't grown a beard. His shoulders were decently wide and his hand, when he held it out to Smalljon to shake looked calloused, though Smalljon couldn't tell if that was calluses from sword exercises, or from something else. Either way Smalljon approved of what he saw.
"How many men do you bring with you my Lords?" Vincent asked.
"A little over 1,700, the rest of my House's men are marching with Lord Stark at present, doing what they can to make life uncomfortable for the Lannisters."
"Something I could wish we would all be doing." Another young man who had come up said darkly. "I am pleased to say that I count myself among Ser Edmure's friends, and it pains me to sit on the defensive like this while he is kept captive by those treasonous bastards in King's Landing! I would rather have us go on the attack with you my Lords. You'll have to convince the other Houses however, which is a tall order my lords."
"My older brother Tristan, my lords." Vincent introduced him.
While this discussion was going on a cloaked and hooded figure, with a luxuriant beard, came up with another, much smaller hooded figure leading two horses each, causing Smalljon and Jason to nod at it, Jason chancing a glance at the servant for a moment before nodding. "Where are Lord Wayn and the others? I would have thought your father at least would be here."
"Our father has allowed Vincent and I to command our men here. Indeed if not for the other lords insisting he be here, I doubt he would have left the comforts of Willow Wood at all, but our seat is too far away from the ford to make a good command position. He and the other lords have commandeered a inn nearby, I'll escort you there now if you wish. Could you ask your men thought to follow my men, they will guide yours over to the camp the rest of the northern army has set up?"
Vincent nodded agreement. "We are still two separate, 'unallied' forces my lords, as much as my brother and I would prefer otherwise." He nearly snarled the words for a moment before calming down." The other lords have been most particular about keeping most of your men away from the defensive line, though obviously that hasn't worked over much."
After the newcomers nodded agreement to that he went on. "As I said, it will be a tall order to convince any but my brother and I to act against House Lannister. Lord Wayn and Lord Roote parlayed the current nonaggression agreement we have with the murderous scum, and they control the majority of the men here. Our own House is weak as you well known lord Mallister, and of course our father is… ambivalent about backing Lord Brynden thanks to 'past wrongs'." Vincent and Tristan both looked like they wanted to spit for a moment there. "That despite our uncle's work to regain Lord Tully's trust in our house. I'll be astonished if you can get any further than Lord Brynden or Lord Umber has."
"We will see." Jason said smiling thinly. He was actually going to enjoy this Jason realized, on top of the effect of her actual presence watching other lords run into Daenerys and her powerful personality would be interesting. He didn't know when it had happened, but somewhere along this journey he had gone from being a skeptic even antagonistic towards her, and shifted into a supporter somehow. He was still very leery about the connection she had with her dragons and the dragons themselves, but no more than he was about Ranma and his family's connection to their direwolves.
Tristan and Vincent both looked on in confusion as the servants who had brought up their horses pulled themselves into the saddles of the two remaining beasts, never letting their hoods fall. Both young men's intrigue was further roused by seeing a flash of a hand that was far too dainty to belong to a man from the second figure. Watching Smalljon and the other servant take up unobtrusive positions on either side of her Vincent decided to wait and see what was going on here.
Tristan smiled at the intrigue and asked lightly. "Would you care to let us in on the secret my Lords?"
Smalljon laughed. "Trust us, you'll get the joke eventually and I think it will be all the better for waiting."
With that the five of them began to move through the defensive works while behind them the lead the rest of the men into on loading and moving their stuff to the northern camp. A few moments after they left the last bulwark behind they met up with Brynden and Greatjon who had come out from the northern camp.
"Smalljon!" Greatjon bellowed. "We've heard all about how the Freys fell, ha! I wish I could've seen it! What did that old windbag look like when he realized that the Twins had fallen?"
"I think he nearly had a heart attack frankly, he looked like a frog that had swallowed a boulder!" Smalljon replied. When Greatjon pulled his horse up alongside his son's the two large men reached across and pounded one another on the back with blows that would've broken a lesser man's bones.
"I agree with Greatjon." Brynden quipped, smirking slightly. "I wish I could've seen it too. Actually no, I don't wish that. I wish I could be a fly on the wall when news of the Twins' destruction reaches those Freys that are already serving with the Lannisters or worse married to them! Their howls of agony would warm my heart."
With that he turned to the third person in the group from the Blue Fork, one eyebrow raised in amusement. He bowed his head like slightly, then he ignored her for now joining with the others to inveigle Smalljon to tell them about the battle in the Twins.
Smalljon did so, keeping their attention firmly on him as well as all their watchers as they rode on. None of the Riverlanders noticed when two carts began to move in their wake, with several young squires racing alongside them. They soon came to the inn that had been commandeered as the home for the lawyers wildly held the Ruby forward. "Of course," Tristan said shaking his head in amusement, "none of them are happy to be here."
"That's true enough." Brynden replied shaking his head. "I had forgotten how set in his ways Old Wayn is, but then again he's as old as my brother, and almost as feeble. Both in mind and body…" He went on, speaking under his breath but still audible to those nearest him.
"Jason!" said a voice as they entered the inn's interior. Lord Ryger set up from where he had been sitting at a table, where he was going over some kind of paperwork. "I'd heard your banner was seen coming down the river, but I didn't think it would actually be you. Last we'd heard you had sent your son off to Fairmarket, while you stayed behind."
"Events forced me to march to war myself Donovan." Jason said smiling thinly at the other man. They were not exactly friendly, indeed they had only met a few times and Donovan had always been rather bitter about the punishment handed out by Lord Tully for his House's backing House Targaryen.
From a nearby table Lord Roote also stood up. He was a small fat man, who looked much more like a merchant or banker of some kind than a lord. This fit house Roote to a T, considering they had never been a powerful House until awarded Harroway, and after that they had become more merchant than lord.
Old Wayn did not get up from his chair by the fire, he simply looked at them coolly. "Jason." he said nodding. He was an elderly man who might have been tall in his youth, but who was now stooped with age. He had a long beard, and deep rheumy eyes, and unlike the other two he didn't wear armor or a sword, instead wearing good if faded linen doublet and hose.
"Elistares." Jason replied, nodding back just as coolly.
"While it's nice to see you" the older man went on, his tone giving his words the lie. "I have to say that if you're here to join young Brynden in trying to convince us to take the field against the Lannisters you won't have much luck. The agreement we've reached with Lord Tywin is that so long as he stays on his side of the Ruby Ford we won't take the field against him. The Lannisters are too strong, even with your Northern army with us to take in the open field. And besides, while there might be some question as to the Lannister boy's right to the crown, it's not as if the Starks have any claim on it either! I'm not willing to fight for them, but neither am I willing to fight against them, not without a lot more reason then I've already heard."
"So says a man who hasn't seen their predations on the Riverlands first hand." Ser Halmore Blanetree growled. He was a tall, spare man, with a series of scars running down one side of his face that looked recent, and a burning rage in his brown eyes.
"We've already had this argument Ser Halmore." Lord Roote said, waving one somewhat pudgy hand as if to wave away the knight's words. "And while we sympathize, we have to think of our own people first. And while there is some question about the boy-king's right to his throne, there is just as much question as to who began the battle against the Lannisters when they began their march. If you, the Vances and the other hotheads hadn't begun the war, the Riverlands could have remained neutral, and the king might even have returned your precious Lord Edmure."
"As much as I hate to admit it, Lord Roote is correct. We need to think of our own people, and until there is a clear case of who is in the right here, we will continue to follow Lord Tully's last command to us, that we follow our own consciences. I'm sorry, but there you are." Lord Ryger said, sounding as if he really meant it.
"My husband and I thought you might think that way my Lords." said a female voice. "That is why I am here."
Vincent and his brother exchanged a glance, wondering where this was going to go while their father leaned forward wondering as well.
"And who would you and your husband be, miss?" said old Wayn now looking at the hooded form that had spoken with surprise.
Daenerys raced her hands pushing back her hood to reveal her face and features. Beside her the other cloaked figure did the same, revealing an aged, lined face, one that more than one man had seen before. "I am Daenerys Stark-Targaryen, wife of Ranma Stark, King of the North and lord Tully's representative until this current crisis is dealt with." The words 'and Lord Tully's grandson' hovered in the air for a moment, unspoken, before she went on. "And I'm here to convince you to join your banners with hours for the sake of justice and your oaths to Lord Tully and his house."
Over the next several days Daenerys went to work on bringing the lords of the eastern Riverlands over to their cause. It was not, alas, as easy as she had hoped. It gave Daenerys her first real experience with the world of politics, that is, the need to juggle various people's demands/needs with what needed to be done. Worse, for three of the five lords here, her legitimate claim to the throne mattered not at all, nor did Ser Barristan's siding with her, which should have added more legitimacy to her and Ranma's cause. It appalled her that the lords, in particular Roote and Wayn, were so self-serving, so blind to the long term ramifications of doing nothing, though admittedly for very different reasons. Eventually however, she was able to charm, browbeat or otherwise convince the various lords to side with them.
Wayn was the hardest to convince. He was old and very tired of war. He had no direct heir of his body, his three sons all having died in the War of the Usurper. He was tired, and had no desire to see his men off to die in another war. Daenerys however convinced him to defend his House's land and not stop allied forces from crossing them. Further she guaranteed his brother and nephew would be allowed to return home from Riverrun, where they were currently serving, his brother as steward his nephew as a page, immediately after the Lannisters were driven out of the Riverlands.
For a very different reason Roote was also hard to convince. Given the fact that they didn't know if the houses near the Trident had been coerced or join the Westerlanders willingly, Daenerys refused to guarantee anything behind the return of Harroway, but even that had conditions. Since it was a town, Daenerys wanted to make certain Harroway had crown representation in the future. Eventually she convinced him that if Darry had followed Tywin willingly their lands would become House Roote's in return for concessions in the running of the town.
Lord Ryger and Ser Blanetree were the easiest though they had very different motives. Ryger saw Daenerys, her dragons and her marriage to Ranma as vindication of his father, the former Lord Ryger's, decision to follow the crown. Daenerys didn't think in that manner, but for some very complex reasons, and while very willing to repay House Ryger for its service couldn't truly give them much, which angered him.
On the other hand, Blanetree she could do something for, which neatly led to a solution to Ryger's angst. Their house had been on the other side of the Blue fork, right in the Trident on the side of the river away from Harroway. Their people had mostly escaped over the Ruby Ford, though Blanetree and his men had been mauled in the retreat from the battle at the Kneeling Man ford. While not having many men to add to the cause now, the loyalty of the house to their Lord Paramount had to be awarded, and Daenerys had promised them House Vypren's land and money enough to rebuild its seat, assuming that Ranma's attack on it had left enough of it standing.
While Daenerys was discovering the joys of politics on a small scale Domeric and Alayaya went to work. With Brynden's aid by the end of four days the two of them had rooted through both the northern and Riverlands forces here, pulling out what information they could not just about the various house's readiness for war which helped Daenerys in her discussions, but other bits and pieces of information that would help in the long term.
But their main task was to ferret out anyone passing on information to anyone else. They found several spies from Lord Lannister, and Domeric even caught two couriers well out from the Riverlands encampment. These were men who were good enough at sneaking about in the forests and woodlands to get away from the army and cross the ford before travelling down to where the Lannister Army wasn't camped on the other side of their fortifications. Their skill at sneaking however did not translate to skill with weapons' craft, and Domeric killed them both when they tried to run away from him when he came upon their small hideaway.
Thanks to their efforts the dragons had been ensconced in the into the northern camp with no one save the northern army the wiser for several days, and the northerners weren't going to share anything with the Riverlanders. This was because the portion of the northern army here had come to resent the Riverlands nobles, rightly blaming them for stopping the army from from crossing the Ruby Ford and going to their King's aid. And more than one armsmen had realized that the dragons were a powerful token, and should be played with the most amount of surprise to get the most out of it.
Now the dragons were watched by the majority of the youngest pages led by Cley, who Ranma had sent with them, when Daenerys could not be with them, which alas was most of the afternoons. Since none of the spies had access to the northern camp in the first place, they were relatively out of sight, though Danny started to hear some rumors about giant bats for some reason after she allowed the dragons out to fly at night.
Unfortunately even, Brynden, Alayaya and Domeric didn't know all the tricks and they missed a few spies. Most particularly, they missed the fact that Lord Wayn's steward, who was the most powerful person in that house given Lord Wayn's declining health and mental acuity, had been trying rather desperately to poison the old man against Daenerys. Ser Crenlock Shett was a rather large man, almost of a size with Smalljon in height though not in breadth, he looked as if he could have been used as a gigantic coat rack in fact, and his hair was completely gray.
He was used to having it all his own way, since he had been running Lord Wayn's keep and lands more and more in the past few years. Of course for most of that time he didn't have anything much to report to either of his two masters, Lord Lannister and Varys, but the stipend they both paid him and the money he was able to launder allowed him to keep his mistress in Gulltown very happy indeed.
Unfortunately, Crenlock's ability to control Wayn's actions was based upon there being both no crisis and having access to him while decisions were being made. Since Daenerys' first move had been to insist that only the Lords be present during their discussions, she had been able to dominate the discussions without Crenlock being able to interfere.
It was that desperation, and the knowledge that both of his couriers had been found that caused Crenlock to start poking his nose around, though not his own of course. He had six trusted men, men whose loyalty ostensibly was to Lord Wayn, but who were truly loyal to him. He had them listen to rumors and watching for anything unusual, while he began to think about ways to remove Daenerys.
Right now his hands were worrying at one another, and he was furtively glancing from side to side. He'd lost quite a few contacts the past few days, and he knew that most of his fellow spies had been found out thanks to the Summer Island whore and that damn northern bard working with Bryndan, whose intelligence Crenlock had long suspected was rather higher than he was happy with. But that was but a patch on the real reason he was nervous, because one of his men had gotten a young Northern page drunk, and found out that Daenerys had far more going for her than just her last name.
"Dragons, the bitch has two dragons, young yet but, gahhhh!" He said, his tone low but almost manic, and very much afraid, his eyes on the door to his office. It wasn't really an office,he'd simply commandeered the room that had belonged to the innkeeper's young daughter. It was a small threadbare place, worse even than Crenlock's room back in Castle Wayn let alone the magnificent apartment he kept in Gulltown. He hadn't been there in months, not since old Wayn had been forced to divest himself from Castle Wayn and come forward with his men. "We, we need to act, and I know of one way to turn those dragons on the fucking northerners…"
Unfortunately, the guard on Daenerys was too much for any subtle plan Crenlock came up with to work. SmallJon and Ser Barristan never left her side save when she was asleep in the room she shared with Alayaya, and Ser Barristan had retained the services of a crannogman as a food taster. The ladies room was also the furthest along the second-story passage of the inn, only reachable by walking past all the others, which included the room Smalljon and Barristan shared, whose door was always open. So he was forced to go with a brute force approach, one that was much more of an all or nothing proposition than he would've liked.
So Crenlock, knowing it was only a matter of time before he was found out, couched his bet. While two of the men who were loyal to him would carry out his assassination plan, the other four left early in the night with five very good horses, heading toward the Kingsroad then down toward the Trident and beyond that into the area of the Riverlands controlled by the Lannisters. There he met them on his own horse, having ostensibly been sent off by Wayn back to his family's keep to check on things.
This was a route that was too long to have been used up to this point to send spy messages along, but going in that direction allowed him to get away from the Army in a direction that the Northerners weren't watching as closely. The defenses in that direction of the earthworks wasn't nearly as built up either, since they would have a lot of warning of any Lannister incursion coming up the Kingsroad.
The men Crenlock left behind moved that very night. They moved around the inn to the back, where they stood directly underneath the window to the room that Daenerys and Alayaya had taken over. While one of the men stood there his fellow climbed onto his shoulders reaching up for the windowsill. With difficulty the assassin pulled himself up, and opened the window, which Crenlock had stealthily unlocked earlier that day.
Daenerys and Alayaya were not in there at that moment. Daenerys was downstairs talking to the other lords and having an evening meal, while Alayaya was out and about with Domeric. This allowed both of the men to hide themselves in Daenerys' room, closing the window and pulling the blinds closed as well. One hid in a corner behind the door between the inner wall and a wardrobe, while the other man hid between one bed and the wall.
The two men waited there in the dark of the room for he didn't know how long, until eventually he heard a set of three footsteps and a female voice murmuring followed by a chuckle. The one nearest the door heard his target murmur "Good night Smalljon, Ser Barristan." Then watched as Barristan opened the door first, glancing inside. Both held still while the veteran's eye's scanned the shadows, not even daring to breath for a moment.
Then Barristan was pushed to one side, a female voice murmuring "Oh give over my lord, I doubt that there is a horde waiting in the shadows waiting to jump out at me."
"You never know my lady, assassins can find you at the most astonishing of times. And as queen your safety is not something I'm willing to take chances with."
"Carry on then Ser."
"Thank you milady, I will."
The assassins held their breaths even more as Barristan entered the room, glaring around him before turning toward the door, but didn't find the assassins, who were both wearing black and gray clothing that let them hide very well in the black of the room. Just as they both felt that Barristan was finished his inspection, the man moved with far more speed than his age would suggest. Jumping to one side, his sword came out of its sheath before thrusting into and through the chest of the man who had been hiding in the corner. "Assassin!"
At that cry and the scream of his companion, the other assassin bolted up from his own hiding place, rushing toward the doorway where Daenerys was standing holding a small candle for light. With his sword stuck in the first assassin Barristan couldn't turn to face the second man, but Smalljon quickly grabbed Daenerys, pulling her out of the way. Even so the second assassin had reacted so quickly, and the room was so small, that he had been able to get close enough for his long dagger to slice into Daenerys' arm despite the speed of Smalljon's response.
Stumbling from Smalljon's pull Daenerys winced as the pain of the slash to her arm hit her, clamping her hand down on it. However her mind was still working, and she growled "Alive Smalljon, I want him alive!"
Smalljon, who had just smashed the second assassin's knife out of his hand with blow from his gauntleted fist, snarled, but complied, lowering his sword while bringing his unarmed hand around again, catching the assassin on the chin. His blow lifted the shorter man off his feet, throwing him across the room to slam into the opposite wall. "You never said he had to be in one piece Daenerys."
By this point Barristan had finally wrenched his sword free of the dead man's chest, rushing over to his queen. "Are you alright milady?"
"A new scar for the collection perhaps, but it might be best to send for a healer as well as someone to take our prisoner to Brynden, I want him squeezed, and squeezed hard." Daenerys replied smiling at the man who, she was swiftly realizing, had just saved her life. "Thank my shield, and if I ever question you again about being too paranoid, feel free to ignore me."
"I will hold you to that milady," Barristan replied, smirking behind his beard as Smalljon laughed while shouts from below indicated the uproar had been noticed.
OOOOOOO
Jon and the men he led didn't have any kind of baggage train because in the territory they were going even mules would have slowed them down. The Whispering Wood was not named that because the woods were easy to get through. After all, a lot of the Riverlands had scattered copses of trees and foliage. The Whispering Woods however was as dense and as unclaimed as almost any forest south of the Neck.
To Jon and the Northern mountain clansmen with him however, it was just like coming home. House Grell had long lived on the outskirts of the Whispering Woods, their armsmen were used to moving through its verdant foliage. So Jon led his force as quickly as possible, because they had quite a lot of territory to cover. Though Ranma hadn't really given him a date or anything in which to take their target, Jon felt that a month and a half was the maximum amount of time he should allow.
None of the men were armored as they moved, that would simply have worn them down, and would have made noise. The jingle of chain and the stamping of feet could cover a surprising distance even in a forest. So their armor and weapons were carried on every man's back, along with each man's food supplies. They added to this by stopping occasionally in the midafternoon to send out hunters, and because there are only 700 of them they were able to sustain themselves in the Woodlands.
Several days after they left House Grell territory smoke in the distance indicated they were coming close to Riverrun, and Jon led them even further to the west putting more distance between them and the city just in case. He doubted that the Lannisters had any scouts on this side of the Red Fork, but he didn't want anyone to see them, regardless of who they served. Rumor could carry to Lannister ears just as much as a scout's report after all.
Nearly a week after that Jon opened his eyes, coming out of his warg state with Ghost. He stretched grumbling slightly as he got out of his bed roll at the edge of his force's camp, having unknowingly rationalized that in the same way as his brother. So that is the Tumblestone, joy.
Jon had sent Ghost ahead of the rest of his command to see if he could find and follow the Tumblestone which they would have to cross eventually someplace well down the course of the river. Or rather up, considering they were heading towards its source. Now however he knew why there weren't any farmers near the Tumblestone as there were near the Red Fork or even the other rivers in places. The land around the Tumblestone was nasty, and even just a few days away from Riverrun the river itself was a deep frothy nightmare of massive stone boulders jutting out from a fast current. I hope it gets easier as we go along, or…
It didn't. As the curve of the river slowly turned westward it got deeper, and thankfully the rocks began to slowly disappear worn away by the current over time, but the current itself was still massively fast, too fast to attempt any type of crossing. Eventually Jon called a halt, and he, Ser Desmond, and the mountain clan leaders, Torag and Muldan of the Wull and Flint clans respectively, went forward to view the Tumblestone for themselves.
Here there was a slight curve in the Tumblestone. Here you could tell the river had receded somewhat from its highline, indeed the river only took up about half the gorge it had cut out of the land here. Yet the current still looked more than enough to overwhelm a man in chain mail, or even a normal man in leather.
"We'll never get men across that," grunted Desmond, sounding almost but not quite pleased. He had after all thought this idea was folly back in Fairmarket.
"Our men can't swim," said Muldan, spitting to one side, his mouth a sneer under his full beard. "Where we come fr'm, swimmin' can't be done." There were rivers and the occasional deep pool in the mountains, but they were freezing cold year-round, not quite cold enough to freeze, but more than cold enough to kill anyone who went into them for any length of time. A few mountain men could stay afloat, diving into those pools was often used as a challenge to prove one's courage, but there was a vast difference between that and facing this kind of current.
"We don't have to get everyone across, just one person to set up a rope line." Jon pointed across the river. On the other side there was a large boulder jutting out of the side of the river, with a tree growing at a diagonal next to it. "If we can get some ropes across to that we can make a makeshift rope bridge, one below, two above. Why do you think I've been carrying so much rope all this time?" The northern army actually had commandeered enough rope to supply a war galley when they were in Seagard, and about half of it had been split up among the men with Jon.
More than one manlooked a little queasy at the very idea, but none of them were going to say anything that could be taken as cowardice in front of their fellows. "Who?" said Desmond, still looking skeptical.
Jon shrugged philosophically. "Me. I'm the strongest here, and I can swim." The other officers protested this, saying that as commander Jon shouldn't risk himself like that. But Jon refused to listen, knowing he had the best chance of getting across without being swept away by the current.
The rest of the Army came up while Jon tied a thick line of rope around his waist and then over his shoulders. The end of it was being held in the grips of several of the men, as well as Ghost holding the very end of it. The direwolf was watching his master worriedly, but did not argue or try to convince him not to go. Jon patted him one last time on the head then slowly climbed down the side of the gorge and into the water below.
Almost immediately Jon realized that he had underestimated its current, and he had to stand there for a moment, wrapping his arms around a boulder for a moment as he got used to the current. Slowly Jon moved forward deeper into the Tumblestone. Even as strong as he was Jon was almost carried away several times, and despite the best he could do by the time he got across Jon had moved down the riverbank about fifty feet from the target boulder. He was also exhausted, as if he had sparred with Ranma for an entire day.
The men who had been holding the end of the rope however had followed him along and they cheered as Jon, looking and feeling like a wet rat pulled himself up out of the water to lean gasping against the far side of the crevice. He waved at them wearily, then turned to climb upwards.
Moments later Jon was back at the boulder, tying it off. Two more ropes were flung over, and he grabbed from both tying them up to two different trees, then looping them around the boulder just in case. This way the three ropes made a very crude rope bridge, with one rope at the bottom of a triangle for a person's feet, and two on either side for their hands.
With that done Jon leaned against the boulder, wearily watching as Desmond began to organize the men. Over the next few hours the men came across slowly, with only ten on the rope at any time. Despite the ropes they still lost several men who lost their footing and were unable to hold themselves up on the ropes long enough for their fellows to grab them. At one point, one man falling had produced a chain effect, taking four more of his fellows into the water below. Burdened as they were with their packs none of them surfaced again.
Eventually however the entire force was acrossbar Ghost. Desmond looked over at Jon, who had just stood up, looking across the river at his bonded direwolf. "Are you going to go across and carry your pet over?" the knight asked dubiously. Desmond had yet to realize how deadly or intelligent the giant direwolves of the Starks all were.
"No, I'm not that strong, and he's not that small." Jon replied dryly, shuddering inwardly at the very idea for many reasons. "No, I think Ghost will have to get himself across. "Leaning once more back against the boulder Jon stared across at Ghost their minds connecting through that strange doorway that was the warg ability.
After Jon got his thoughts across Ghost shook his head, as if pitying his human. A second later Ghost moved, biting through two of the ropes and letting them fall away. They were quickly pulled in by the men on the other side, since they could be of use later that done Ghost bit through the last of the ropes then grabbed the end of it with his mouth, rushing forwards and leaping out into the gorge and into the water.
Ghost was actually quite a bit stronger than Jon hence his confidence but much to Ghost's chagrin this did not equate to a greater ability at swimming. Jon had to help him, pulling him across the river with several other men. The power of the direwolf's jaws and the men pulling on the rope allowed him to get across despite having been carried away slightly.
Once his animal had joined him, looking very wet and very irritable Jon turned to his officers. "We'll continue up the Tumblestone on this side of the river for now, I want us to do at least two more leagues today, then we'll pause for the rest of the day."
Later, while the rest of the men were resting doing the things armsmen needed to during quite moments such as checking their equipment and other matters, Jon once more road Ghost's mind, and the direwolf moved off through the woods. A direwolf at full lope could cover more leagues in a few hours than a man on horseback could cover in a day and could certainly move through the woods far more easily. Even stopping to hunt at one point didn't slow him down. This way Jon used his bonded animal to find the trails they could follow as well as scout out the area for enemies.
Luckily there was still no one around. This area of Westeros had nothing whatsoever to draw people to it, no resources, no arable land, not even much game, it was very much like most of the North in that manner though obviously the weather was different.
Jon's force kept following the Tumblestone for another week, then split off when the area they were travelling too changed from hilly to mountainous. At that point the mixed force stopped moving during the day, and moved through the woods at night with the mountain clansmen in the lead following the trails that Ghost would find them the day before.
In this manner they soon came out of what Desmond and his men called the badlands and into more settled territory. The next day, with the rest of his command hidden among a group of trees and rocks Jon, Ghost and his officers went forward to allow Desmond to get the lay of the land and determine where they were in relation to Wayfarer's Rest.
After a moment Desmond nodded. "We're further up into the hills and mountains than Wayfarer's Rest is, we'll have to go northeast for a time I think."
"You think?"Jon asked.
Desmond shrugged. "I've only been to Wayfarer's Rest a few times, and I've never been here before. That is my best guess, but that's all it is."
"In that case, I'll go forward with Ghost." Jon held up a hand forestalling Ser Desmond's protests. "Can you name someone else who can move as quietly and as quickly as I can?"
Desmond and the mountain clan leaders growled, but knew they couldn't. It just seemed strange for their leader to be doing so much of the scouting but they couldn't argue with the fact that he was the best they had at it.
With that Ghost and Jon were off once more, but they were back that very day, and Jon was grinning viciously. "You were right Desmond, we're somewhat further up into the mountains than Wayfarer's Rest, but we're only within a few days of it! And better, this continues for another day." he said gesturing around them to the hilly woodlands dominated by trees and rocks. "After that we'll be in the open, but we'll be so close we can rush the keep from there."
Jon's words proved prophetic. Another few days' travel, with every man now moving as quietly and silently as possible through this hardscrabble territory brought them to the edge of the mountainous area on the western side of where Wayfarer's Rest sat at the front of the passage through the mountains the River Road followed into the Westerlands. They rested there throughout the rest of the day, with Jon, Ghost and several dozen others on watch just in case someone had spotted them.
No one had, though Jon didn't know if that was because of their cover or because of complacency on the part of the Lannister forces that had remained here. Regardless, Jon's raiding party rushed out of their cover that evening, falling upon the Lannisters patrol nearest them, slaying them quickly and almost silently before rushing on to their target, the way clear for now.
Ahead of them the keep's main gate wasn't even closed, but the defenses had been upgraded somewhat. Around the central holdfast a new stone wall was going up, though only the first few feet of it had been completed anywhere along its length, and there were large gaps in it too.
Jon vaulted this wall while shouts of alarm at last began to be heard from the top of the keep's wall, where several dozen men had been patrolling with torches. "The North!" he shouted, now that the time for subterfuge had passed. "The King in the North! Winter is Coming!"
The men guarding the entrance into the keep proper were still gaping as he fell upon them swords flashing. One man went down with a gurgle his throat slit, while the other backed away rapidly holding the stubble of a hand that had recently been holding a longsword. Ghost slammed full on into a third man, taking him down to the ground and then ripping his head off with a mighty jerk of his jaws.
That was when it began to go wrong. Tywin had left more men here than Jon or Ranma had thought he would and though they didn't outnumber Jon's forces, they were much closer in parity than he had expected, and after that initial shock wore off they responded quickly. Men boiled out from deeper with the keep, slamming into Jon and the outriders of his force trying to regain control of the of the keep's gate while more of Jon's men poured in behind him.
Jon was forced to duck under a flail then fell backwards to avoid a broadsword blow coming in from his other side. One sword caught his opponent's blade guiding it past him while his other short sword thrust out, punching through the other man's chain mail guarded chest. Then another blade nearly took him in the side, but Jon dodge that by the skin of his teeth, feeling it skitter across his breastplate for a moment.
For a moment it was all Jon could do to defend, holding the doorway as more of his men came up, taking out the men that had gotten past him before he could reach it as well as from several small camps set up on the other side of the keep. A vicious melee was happening all over what had obviously been planned to become a courtyard all around him, men dying on both sides in the torchlight.
Arrows also began to fall from above, answered quickly by the archers among Jon's men, who had taken position along the rubble of the planned outer wall. Other Westerlander armsmen tried to break off and rush them, but were stopped by a force under Desmond. The element of surprise was gone, and now it was down to just numbers, steel and fury.
Ghost came out of nowhere, biting into a man's leg and tearing it off in a welter of blood, the man's screaming in agony. Not lingering over that man Ghost moved forward, head-butting another man backwards into three of his fellows. This gave Jon time enough to move back a half-step setting himself for the next charge.
Ten men came at them in a rush, but Jon darted forward again, getting in among their blades before they could respond, his shorter swords serving him in good stead. Two men died, one with his throat cut neatly the other with his intestines bleeding out from an equally neat cut below his breastplate then Jon stepped back, dodging a cut from one side blocking another from the other and kicking out at a third.
One man went down under Ghost, his blade skittering across the ground before the direwolf leaped away, dodging a spear. He then lashing out with a forepaw shattering it to the man's visible shout of dismay. "Monster, a white-furred monsteGAHHH!" At that point he had no life left to scream as Ghost's forepaw came back, smashing his face to flinders despite his helmet, while he dodged a blow from his other side.
This man wore the full plate armor of a knight, but this availed him not at all. Ghost dodged a blow from his large broadsword, then his head darted to one side, striking almost as quickly as a snake, gripping the man's arm. With a wrench of tortured metal he twisted, ripping the man's arm out of its socket despite the plate armor covering his arm and shoulder. The man cried out in agony echoing the other man's death scream, even as Ghost turned to jump over a spear thrust, lunging forward over the spear to take the spear-wielder to the ground, his fangs seeking his throat. "AGGHH, m-monster! Monster!"
The two of them held there, killing over two dozen men in the next few moments, while all around him the men who had been camped outside the keep were slowly overwhelmed despite the archers on top of the keep helping them as best they could. Soon the fear that Ghost engendered in the men facing him began to tell, and the men trying to get out of the keep Instead they fell back no doubt intent on fortifying its interior.
Jon however wasn't about to let them have any respite. He shouted aloud one short sword held up above his head. "Rally to me, rally to me!"
All around him mountain clansmen gathered, their short hatchets and broadswords bloody, their eyes afire with eagerness. "In and at them, boys!" Jon growled. "Keep up the pressure!" All the men around him nodded grimly, and Jon and Ghost led the way howling, "Winter is Coming!"
OOOOOOO
Hours later, Jon winced slightly as he stalked into the small prisoner's area to stare at the small number of prisoners among the Westerlands armsmen they had taken. He kept his wince well-hidden of course, for what he had planned right now that would be a hindrance. Ghost padded beside him, and Jon could tell that the prisoner was staring at the direwolf in horror.
At Jon's 'suggestion' Ghost hadn't yet removed the blood that practically coated his muzzle from nose to neck as well as his paws. The blood stood out starkly against his white fur, making him look all the more terrifying. Not that Ghost cared about that, direwolves were surprisingly fastidious creatures. He desperately wanted to find some water to get his fur clean, or a few moments to lick the blood off in a pinch. Now Ghost began to growled low in his throat moving forward to sniff the man who was chained to the wall.
"Now Ghost, I said you can't eat him." Jon's said mildly then went on, looking at the prisoner staring into his wide terrified eyes. "Not yet anyway. Of course that might change if I don't get the answers I wish. So tell me… friend… why are there so many supplies here, and why were there so many of you armsmen here? I would have thought that Lord Lannister would want every man he could get up with his army on the other side of the Red Fork by this time, I know my brother you see."
After only a second's frightened staring the man began to gabble. Jon held up a hand. "Calmly my friend, calmly. As long as you tell me the truth the answers don't actually matter, I just want the information. But don't try to lie. I don't like it when people lie to me and there are a dozen other prisoners I'm going to be questioning after you. And anyone of you who lies well…" Jon sighed sadly. "I haven't been able to feed Ghost well lately on the march, and he's given feeling a might hungry."
OOOOOOO