The army of the Reach, commanded by Mace Tyrell, was heading for the Storm's End. My father-in-law rode at the head of the host on a huge black gelding. Encased in armor and helm, powerful and broad-shouldered, he looked every inch the great lord. Trumpeters blew their horns, banners fluttered—Mace arranged his future victory with meticulous care, missing not a single detail.
Well, perhaps he was right. Our descendants would judge us by these colorful trappings, not by what had truly happened. And if Mace wrote in his reports that the garrison of Storm's End numbered several thousand seasoned fighters instead of a few hundred, then in time that version would become accepted truth.
One army marched southeast. The second prepared to march northwest. Lord Tywin ordered Jaime to take Riverrun.
I thought the task held promise, so I spoke with my grandfather about entrusting it to me—under Jaime's supervision, of course.
At first, Tywin and Kevan received the idea coolly. Despite the fact that I had performed well recently, they still did not fully trust me. They feared I might mishandle the situation.
But I laid out my plan, emphasizing that Jaime would remain at my side at all times and would not allow me to do anything reckless.
Several points immediately sparked objections.
"Are you proposing that we return the Tullys' castle to them?" Kevan asked incredulously. "That would be most imprudent."
"There are political considerations," I replied. "Let the realm see that we are not strangers to nobility—that we know how to forgive and can grant a second chance to those who sincerely repent."
"Edmure Tully has caused us no small amount of trouble," Tywin said thoughtfully. "To forgive him so easily would appear weak."
"Oh no, not that easily," I countered. "Tell me—have you already promised Riverrun and its lands to someone?"
"We have reached an agreement with Lord Frey," Tywin said. "The castle is to go to one of his children or grandchildren. At present, we favor Ser Emmon Frey and his wife, Lady Genna. As I remind you, she is my sister and your great-aunt, Your Majesty. In this way, we serve not only the Freys' interests, but our own as well."
"Is that decision final?"
"Not yet," Kevan admitted. "Lady Genna is aware of the difficulties and is not eager to receive such a gift. She has written more than once that she would much prefer Castle Darry. Do you have another proposal?"
"You do understand," I said calmly, "that in doing so you would push the Tullys aside and create a new great House Frey?"
From the way my relatives exchanged glances, it was clear that the thought had already occurred to them—and had inspired little enthusiasm.
"Lady Genna is certainly loyal," I continued, pressing the point, "but her many children and grandchildren bear the Frey name. They may be loyal now, but problems will arise in time. From the histories I've read, young houses tend to be aggressive and ambitious. They are rarely content with what they are given and always seek more."
"We've considered that," Kevan nodded. "And we've considered that possibility, which, to be honest, doesn't inspire us."
"By uniting Riverrun and the Twins , we will create a tremendous problem for ourselves," I said. "The new house would be enormous—and dangerously well positioned."
"So you propose leaving Riverrun to the Tullys?" Tywin asked.
"Yes. Blackfish can be disregarded. Edmure Tully is the sole heir. And he has no children—only a pregnant wife, who, incidentally, is a Frey. So formally, your obligations to old Lord Walder would still be fulfilled. Edmure will have nowhere else to go and will accept our terms. Most importantly, Riverrun and the Twins will once again stand opposed rather than allied, as in your current plan."
"And there is more important. The Crown cannot extract contribution from Emmon Frey—but it can from Edmure Tully. And lastly, and perhaps most importantly, if the great house bends the knee and recognizes my legitimacy as king, it will greatly enhance the authority and popularity of us all."
We argued. I enjoyed the argument itself — it was a productive, constructive meeting where everyone defended their plans and, in the end, everyone won because the most thoughtful and interesting option was chosen.
At last, we reached an agreement and came up with a good plan. If all went well and Lord Tully accepted our terms, Riverrun would be returned to him. If not, it would pass to Lady Genna Frey, her mild-mannered husband, and their four children.
The army set out soon after. Jaime and I rode slowly at the head of the column. The entire Red Keep came to see us off—Tywin, Kevan, Cersei, Myrcella, and Margaery. My wife and sister were unexpectedly emotional, pressing handkerchiefs to their eyes as though we were marching into certain death. Even Tyrion had come out into the square; now he watched Jaime and me with a complicated expression. Gods only knew what passed through his mind. I did not dare imagine it and could only hope he harbored no hostile intentions toward me.
Cersei, however, looked far worse than merely annoyed. I saw open hostility in her eyes. The day before, we had had our first real argument.
It began when she casually, as if talking about something trivial, asked me to approve Ser Osfryd Kettleblack, Osmund's younger brother, as a knight of the Kingsguard, to replace the late Ser Boros Blount.
I refused.
And I was courteous enough to explain to my mother that from now on, only truly worthy knights would be admitted to the Kingsguard—not obscure men whose sole merit lay in having powerful patrons.
(End of Chapter)
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