Inside Riverrun, Edmure Tully sat in the high seat of the great hall, with Tywin Lannister and Denys Arryn seated to his left and right.
Apart from the nobles still engaged in the tourney, all the lords of the Riverlands were now seated on the western side of the hall, while the eastern side was occupied by the lords of the Westerlands, the Vale, and other distant regions.
As the Lord of the Riverlands, Edmure was responsible for investigating and mediating the murder case between House Bracken and House Blackwood, before ultimately delivering a verdict. The Lords of the Westerlands and the Vale were present as witnesses.
The body of the deceased, Hoster Blackwood, had been cleaned and prepared by the Silent Sisters. His family's knights had placed him on a simple wooden bier at the center of the hall, his corpse lying still beneath a white shroud. Until they received a satisfactory ruling, the Blackwoods would not remove the body.
Tytos Blackwood, the Lord of Raventree Hall and father of the deceased, stood beside the bier, while his remaining four sons whispered among themselves.
Nearby, Lord Jonos Bracken of Stone Hedge also conversed quietly with his two sons.
The surrounding nobles murmured in hushed tones, discussing the day's events.
Tywin rested his elbow on the arm of his chair, his chin propped on his palm, his face utterly expressionless as he observed the noisy scene. His gaze shifted toward Edmure Tully, who remained seated in his high chair, looking utterly lost.
"Ahem!" Denys Arryn, unable to bear it any longer, coughed pointedly to remind Edmure.
Ser Brynden Tully, the Blackfish, sat in the front row. Seeing Edmure still frozen in place, he sighed and rose to take charge.
"Quiet, everyone!"
The hall fell into silence.
Tytos Blackwood stepped forward, standing beside his son's body as he addressed Edmure: "My lord Lord! My son was murdered today in the tent camp outside Riverrun. His only enemies were the Brackens—it must have been them! I implore you to seize Lord Bracken's two sons and throw them into the dungeon for strict interrogation!"
"You old dog!" Jonos Bracken spat back. "Yesterday, your five sons beat up my nephew, and today one of them is dead. This is divine retribution for breaking your knightly vows! The Seven have cursed you—serves him right! And the rest of your sons will follow soon enough!"
His bastard son and nephew had already sworn they had nothing to do with the killing, yet now this old fool wanted his sons imprisoned immediately, as if guilt could simply be declared. Jonos Bracken would not take the insult lying down.
"Jonos! You're not young yourself—before my son went down, I'll make sure you go with him!"
The two lords erupted into another shouting match. Fortunately, weapons had been left outside the hall; otherwise, swords would already be drawn.
At last, Edmure Tully seemed to snap out of his stupor. "Lord Tytos, I share in your grief over the loss of your son. And Lord Jonos, I will ensure a fair investigation into whether your sons were involved. Uncle, when will Robb arrive?"
Brynden Blackfish pulled a pocket watch from his cloak and checked the time. "The knights left an hour ago—he should be here soon."
Edmure nodded and turned to the feuding lords. "Both of you, remain calm. I have already summoned my nephew, Robb Stark, heir to the Lord of Winterfell, to assist in the investigation. As you all know, he is a mage, and his skills in solving crimes are unmatched."
"And where is he now?" Tytos Blackwood was impatient to see the Brackens convicted.
"I trust in the mage's fairness—I will wait for him." Jonos Bracken shot his rival a glance before stepping back beside his nephew, ignoring him.
"Ser Robb Stark has arrived!"
The hall doors swung open as the guards announced his entrance.
Many of the nobles had met Robb at previous feasts, though the lords of the Westerlands were unfamiliar with him.
Jaime Lannister observed the young Stark as he strode in—tall, broad-shouldered, with a face of unshakable resolve. His black mail fit snugly over his solid frame, and the calluses on his hands bore testament to years of training. He moved with steady purpose, the weight of the two greatswords on his back adding to his imposing presence. Rumors had spread that he was currently courting some girl.
Jaime thought to himself, A worthy opponent. A handsome and impressive young man indeed.
Shame he's a mage—I wouldn't stand a chance against him in a fight. His estimation of Robb rose considerably, and he even nodded slightly in approval.
As Robb reached the center of the hall, another figure entered—a girl in a white dress. Seran Farman slipped along the hall's edge and quietly took a seat beside her father, Lord Farman.
Jaime looked from the girl to Robb again.
A thick-headed brute, all muscle and no mind. Too poor to afford proper plate armor. Walks like someone owes him money. Hands too big, arms too long, fingers too rough. Carries two swords just to show off—bet he can't even swing them properly in battle. And that cocky face… looks like an insufferable little bastard!
Tywin's gaze flickered between Robb and Seran Farman, though his expression remained unreadable.
"Lord Edmure, Lord Tywin, Lord Denys, greetings," Robb addressed the gathered lords. "Forgive my tardiness—I stopped by the crime scene before coming here."
Edmure leaned forward. "Did you find anything?"
Robb: "There were too many people there, and no one sealed off the area. The scene has been trampled beyond recognition."
Edmure: "That…"
Robb: "However, I found a witness who saw the victim. Guards, bring him in."
A farmer was escorted into the hall. Seeing the room filled with nobles, he appeared nervous.
"He's a local farmer who was in the city selling vegetables when he saw the victim. Don't be afraid—three Lords are present here. Just recount what you saw." Robb stepped beside him.
"I… I saw an injured man clutching his lower back, and blood was flowing from it. He walked a short distance before collapsing on the street." The farmer stammered but managed to explain.
Robb lifted the white cloth covering the body. "Take a look. Is this him?"
The farmer examined the face. "It's him. He changed clothes, but I remember his high nose bridge. It's definitely him."
Robb continued, "Was anyone chasing him at the time?"
The farmer thought for a moment. "There were many people on the street, but I didn't see anyone pursuing him. He fell alone, and then someone reported it to the city guards. Soon after, a group of nobles gathered around."
"He was stabbed but wasn't chased down? It must be your doing!" Tytos Blackwood shouted.
"Don't slander us! If we wanted him dead, we would've cut off his head on the spot, not let him walk away!" Jonos Bracken retorted, his voice even louder.
"Exactly! A vendetta wouldn't end with letting the victim walk away. He would have been killed on the spot." The nobles murmured in agreement.
"Silence!"
"Escort the farmer out," Robb ordered before walking to the body. He pulled the cloth down to the legs, revealing that the victim's clothes had been changed, making the wound difficult to locate.
"Lord Tytos Blackwood, may I examine your son's wound?"
"You may." Tytos immediately agreed. He had been too overwhelmed with anger to check the wounds himself.
Robb turned the body over and lifted the clothing, revealing a half-finger-long wound on the lower back. Placing his hand gently over it, he channeled magic, his palm radiating cold air.
After a short moment, Robb withdrew his hand, slowly extracting a white crystalline shard from the wound. The shard was spade-shaped—or perhaps crescent-shaped. Holding it by the base, he displayed it to the room. Many nobles instantly recognized it.
"That's a hunting arrowhead!"
"No, bow arrowheads are broader. This is a crossbow bolt!"
"Yes! A hunting crossbow bolt!"
Robb examined the body again. During his time at the magic academy, Qyburn had taught him much about corpse examination. He confirmed the cause of death as excessive blood loss.
"Your son was killed by a hunting crossbow bolt. The bolt must have been disrupted somehow, so when it struck him, it had already lost most of its force, resulting in a shallow wound. After being wounded, your son likely didn't realize what hit him, so he pulled the bolt out, which led to his death from excessive bleeding." Robb placed the icy arrowhead in Tytos Blackwood's hands.
Jaime Lannister, meanwhile, had been watching his daughter, Seran Farman, who was gazing at Robb with infatuation. The sight made him want to string Robb up and beat him.
Tytos Blackwood ran his fingers over the arrowhead's spade-like notch. "Thank you, Ser Robb, for determining my son's cause of death. But this must be the Brackens' doing! They wanted revenge!"
Edmure sat there, unsure of what to say, while Brynden Blackfish interjected. "My lords, if it were a bow, this would be troublesome. But crossbows are restricted weapons everywhere—they're usually stored in armories and only issued during wartime."
Robb added, "No matter a knight's birth, all are trained in archery from youth. Crossbows, on the other hand, are only handed to levies in times of war."
"Yes! I've never seen anyone hunt with a crossbow. It's disgraceful!"
"Only cowards and women use crossbows in peacetime."
The nobles all agreed—no one would bring a crossbow to a tourney, much less use one with a spade-shaped hunting bolt. That would be humiliating.
Edmure Tully finally grasped the situation. "My lords, crossbows are strictly regulated everywhere. Buying and transporting them are subject to scrutiny. I can guarantee that every crossbow in Riverrun is stored in the armory. So, if we search the Brackens' quarters and find a crossbow, we'll know if they are guilty."
"Search! It must be them!"
"If you find nothing, I want you on your knees apologizing to me! And licking my boots clean!"
The two old men started arguing again.
Seeing that House Bracken had no objections, Edmure ordered his men to begin the search.
Robb said, "Lord Edmure, please wait a moment. Since Lord Tywin and Lord Denys are here as witnesses, they could also send their own men to oversee the search."
"Haha! If it weren't for Ser Robb's reminder, I almost forgot that you're the best at framing people!" Lord Janos Bracken shot Robb a grateful glance before mocking his lifelong rival.
"The Blackwoods do not let a single enemy go unpunished, nor do we falsely accuse the innocent!"
Tywin nodded in agreement, and Denys also confirmed his approval. Both lords assigned a knight to accompany the search.
Tywin had remained silent since sitting down, but he had been observing everyone in the room. First, he had focused on the two feuding houses, but now his attention had shifted to Robb Stark as he began assessing the Stark family as a whole.
With nothing more for Robb to do, Edmure shot his nephew a grateful look. Robb gave a cool nod in return before returning to his seat, exchanging glances with Seran Farman.
Before long, the search party returned to the hall, carrying a crossbow. "We found this in Harry Rivers' quarters."
A commotion broke out among the gathered nobles—so it really was the Brackens!
Harry Rivers was the bastard son of Lord Janos Bracken of Stone Hedge. He was close in age to his cousin, Hendry Bracken, and the two had always been inseparable.
"The killer is your bastard son! He heard his cousin was beaten by my son, so he took a crossbow and killed him!" Tytos Blackwood roared, his four remaining sons glaring daggers at the Brackens.
Harry Rivers looked at the crossbow and explained, "This is a crossbow I made myself. It has never left my room. If I were to kill someone, I would use my sword. Either he dies, or I do. I would never let an enemy escape."
"A coward who won't own up to his actions! What's the use of all this talk? Lord Edmure, the evidence is right here! Say the word!" Tytos Blackwood shouted at Edmure.
"If I had killed him, I would have done it openly, in front of everyone! And besides, killing a Blackwood is an honor in Stone Hedge! But listen to me—I did not kill him!" Harry Rivers bellowed.
"Lord Edmure, the facts are clear. Will you not pass judgment?" Tytos Blackwood urged again.
Realizing the dire situation, Harry turned to his father and brother. "Please believe me. I have always upheld the honor of knighthood. If I had killed him, I would admit it. But I did not."
The evidence was clear—a bastard son of House Bracken. Wanting to quell the conflict, Edmure immediately issued his judgment. "Harry Rivers, you are guilty of the murder of Host Blackwood, third son of House Blackwood."
But just as Edmure was about to finalize his sentence, Lord Janos Bracken intervened. "Hold on, Lord Edmure! Condemning my son based on a single crossbow? This is absurd!"
Hendry Bracken added, "You can't convict a man just because he owns a crossbow! My lord, a thorough investigation is needed!"
Edmure hesitated. Could he take back his judgment now? He opened his mouth but found himself at a loss for words.
Harry Rivers grabbed his father and brother. "I demand trial by combat!"
The hall erupted into noise once more.
By choosing trial by combat, Harry was invoking the will of the Seven. No one could stop him, and the nobility rarely did in such cases. Edmure followed protocol. "Very well. Will you both fight personally, or choose champions?"
"I will fight! I will personally cut down this murderer and avenge my brother!" Lucas Blackwood, second son of Tytos Blackwood, stepped forward. He had been closest to his slain brother.
Harry Rivers, a young man with golden hair and mediocre sword skills, glanced at Hendry Bracken. Understanding the silent message, Hendry nodded.
"I choose a champion!" Harry declared.
At that moment, Robb Stark stepped into the center of the hall. "I will act as Harry Rivers' champion."
The Brackens, who had suspected Robb of siding with the Blackwoods, now saw that he was merely stating facts and had drawn no personal conclusions. If he was willing to fight for Harry, then he must believe the boy was innocent.
"Robb Stark cannot act as a champion! The king has forbidden mages and knights from dueling in tourneys. That means a mage cannot serve as a champion in a trial by combat!"
Tywin finally spoke his first words of the day.
"Yes!"
"Ser Robb, you should return to your seat."
Hendry Bracken looked at Robb. "Thank you, Ser Robb. Our family has few men, so I'll handle my brother's matter myself."
Robb nodded and returned to his seat.
The trial by combat began—Hendry Bracken versus Lucas Blackwood. The tables and chairs in the center of the hall were cleared away, and Tully guards helped the combatants into their armor, allowing them to choose their weapons. Hendry wielded a two-handed longsword, while Lucas armed himself with a flail and a shield.
Though trial by combat could end without death, in most cases, the hatred between the two sides was too great, and it only concluded when one opponent perished.
Longsword against flail—both men aimed to kill. They started by testing each other's defenses. Relying on his shield for protection, Lucas charged straight at Hendry.
Hendry kept his eyes locked on his opponent, gripping his longsword with both hands. As Lucas lunged forward, Hendry sidestepped, slashing upward at his arm.
Clang! The longsword clashed against the flail. The two fighters had different strengths, but overall, they were evenly matched.
One sought an opening to thrust, while the other swung an iron chain with a spiked ball, each strike carrying deadly force.
After several exchanges, both were wounded but still fought with all their might. A single moment of hesitation meant death. Hendry's left arm was struck by the spiked ball, rendering it useless, leaving him to wield his sword one-handed. Lucas, meanwhile, had lost his shield.
"Die!" Lucas swung his flail again. Hendry saw an opening and drove his sword vertically through the gap in Lucas' armor, piercing his throat.
A vertical stab to the throat didn't cause excessive bleeding, leaving Lucas fully conscious. Before Hendry could twist the blade to widen the wound, Lucas gripped the sword tightly with one hand while swinging his flail at Hendry's helmet with the other.
But as Hendry twisted the sword, Lucas' strength faltered. The flail fell from his grasp, and he collapsed.
"I won!" Hendry Bracken raised his sword.
Edmure declared, "I pronounce Harry Rivers innocent!"
Upon hearing the verdict, Hendry removed his helmet and gave his father and brother a faint smile—then fell straight backward. His skull had been shattered.