Chapter 85: A Wasted Trip
If we win… it'll feel about as satisfying as betting on the national team to win the World Cup.
Before the Dance of the Dragons, Tumbler's Falls (Tumbleton) was a prosperous market town, home to shops, a sept, and several inns—including the Blood Briar and the Lewd Badger.
That former prosperity, however, was obliterated during the Dance, when two major battles were fought here.
In the First Battle of Tumbler's Falls, the two great traitors—Hugh Hammer and Ulf the White—betrayed the Blacks. Mounted on Vermithor and Silverwing, they descended upon the town.
Though Lord Footly's men surrendered, they were slaughtered all the same. Much of Tumbler's Falls was reduced to ash by dragonflame.
In the aftermath, Green forces camped outside the town seized the opportunity to loot it savagely.
Ser Jon Roxton slew Lord Footly and carried off his wife, Lady Sharis Footly. Soon after, with Lord Ormund Hightower dead in battle and the southern host leaderless, the two traitors began vying with other Green commanders for control of the army.
The chaos ended only when thirteen Green supporters conspired in secret and murdered the overambitious Hugh and Ulf inside the Blood Briar.
Yet even that was not the end.
During the Second Battle of Tumbler's Falls, Vermithor, Silverwing, and Seasmoke clashed again, inflicting even greater devastation upon the town.
After the war, Lady Sharis ordered the ruins of charred shops and cannon-shattered homes cleared away. She rebuilt the walls, buried the dead, and had wheat, barley, and turnips planted in the surrounding fields.
In the town square, the skulls of Seasmoke and Vermithor were cleaned and put on display.
Travelers could view the dragon remains for a single copper coin—and for another copper star, they were even allowed to touch them.
Still, Tumbler's Falls never regained its former glory.
House Footly attempted to build a "New Town" atop the ruins, but it reached barely a tenth of its former size. The smallfolk widely believed the place was haunted.
Only during the reign of the Baratheon dynasty was the battered settlement finally rebuilt—though even then, it remained far smaller than it had been before the Dance.
The sack of Tumbler's Falls after the betrayal stands among the most prolonged and brutal devastations in the history of the Seven Kingdoms.
And now, centuries later, Podrick, leading his men from the Kingswood by a circuitous route, had arrived at this land steeped in stories and scars.
On the green plain stood a modest stone castle.
Scattered tents and semi-permanent wooden buildings clustered around it, forming a small town.
Above it all, the sky hung low and heavy, shrouded in mist.
With the white raven bringing word that summer had ended and winter was on its way, the season that should have been easy to overlook—autumn—finally lifted her veil, offering the world her last, fleeting kindness before the cruel cold set in.
The world of ice and fire does not consist only of summer and winter, even though seasonal change and its climatic impact follow rules very different from those of the real world.
Here, the four seasons still exist—spring, summer, autumn, and winter—bearing familiar names, though their lengths and rhythms are wildly unpredictable.
The turning of the seasons has nothing to do with the calendar year. Years are not measured by spring and winter, but by celestial motion—by the waxing and waning of the moon, its position in the sky, or the twelve constellations used to mark the world's orbit around the sun.
Winters often last one or two years, varying greatly in severity. When a winter stretches on for three consecutive years, it is universally regarded as a truly brutal one.
By contrast, summers are usually longer, sometimes lasting several years.
Between summer and winter lie the transitional seasons, each with its own character.
Autumn is a season of heavy rainfall. Rivers swell, floods are common, and navigation becomes increasingly dangerous. Because of the frequent storms, sailing during autumn carries far greater risk. This season typically lasts about a year.
Spring arrives with warmer temperatures and longer days—but it also brings danger. After long winters, as life surges back, disease spreads easily. The Spring Plague of 209 AC, for instance, dramatically reduced the population of the Seven Kingdoms.
There are also irregular cycles—warm winters, cold summers—such as the infamous "False Spring" of 281 AC.
---
A force of three to four hundred men marching across the countryside was bound to alarm Tumbleton.
Especially when those men wore the unmistakable black armor and gold cloaks of the City Watch of King's Landing.
And especially since Lord Footly of Tumbleton had only recently declared his support for Renly Baratheon.
The shrill, frantic ringing of bronze bells echoed across the fields. Farmers, merchants, craftsmen, and soldiers alike abandoned what they were doing and withdrew into the castle.
Some, sensing disaster, mounted donkeys or miserable old horses and fled upriver along the Mander without looking back, terrified of being caught in whatever calamity was coming.
Podrick watched calmly from a distance, his horse unmoving.
Behind him, the Gold Cloaks were just as relaxed, observing the commotion as if it were a spectacle.
Only after the town had fully emptied did Podrick ride forward at an easy pace.
House Footly's sigil—a field of black scattered with silver thistles—came to mind, along with their words:
"Caution in All Things."
Judging by this reaction, they lived up to it.
The fields were deserted. The small settlement around the castle stood empty.
Podrick and his men encountered no resistance at all as they approached the Footly stronghold.
He looked up.
A sturdy little castle.
Maybe… enough space for forty soldiers?
He frowned and counted again.
There were barely ten armored men visible on the walls.
Even if he generously included the newly recruited farmers—pitchforks and hoes in hand as "weapons"—the entire garrison barely scraped together thirty men.
"I'm starting to regret coming here," Podrick muttered.
"I'm guessing they don't have any grain to spare either… damn it. This is what happens when you lack field experience."
"Which raises the real question," he went on.
"Where did Lord Footly get the nerve to back Renly Baratheon the moment things started moving? Who gave him that kind of courage?"
"Did he forget how close King's Landing is? Or does he really not consider the Gold Cloaks a proper army?"
Podrick counted again, just to be sure.
No matter how he added it up, he couldn't find fifty men in that castle.
A large question mark formed in his mind.
Then his head tilted slightly.
"…Wait."
"Actually, that makes it even clearer why Lord Footly had to choose a side."
"With his location, if he stayed neutral between Renly Baratheon and the Tyrells, Tumbleton would probably be facing its third battle before long."
"So if death is inevitable either way, this choice really is the smarter one."
"Even if he loses and dies, at least it'll be a respectable death."
"And if he wins…"
Podrick smirked.
"…it'd probably feel as good as betting on the national team to win the World Cup."
After muttering to himself for a while—confused, then suddenly enlightened—Pod finally understood what sort of situation Tumbleton was in.
And it was precisely because he saw it with his own eyes that his heart sank.
This trip, it seemed, was likely going to be a waste.