Early the next morning, Catelyn Stark and Robb bid each other farewell at Moat Cailin. This mother and son, who had only just reunited the night before, were already facing another parting.
Before leaving, Catelyn looked at her son, her heart filled with pride. "I never thought you would take the initiative to propose a political marriage. A boy may know how to wield a blade, but only a true adult lord can understand the meaning of a political union—and accept it calmly."
Robb smiled. "I've heard the Tyrell family's Little Rose is breathtakingly beautiful. I wouldn't say I'm getting the short end of the stick."
Catelyn was still a little uneasy. "Over at the Twins, that Lord Frey is not an easy man to deal with. I worry he may not necessarily let you cross the river."
"It's fine. I'll handle it properly."
Seeing the confidence on Robb's face, Catelyn said no more. She swung herself onto her horse and rode away from Moat Cailin with several escorting knights.
Worried for his mother's safety, Robb had two children of House Manderly lead men to escort her. With bandits and roving outlaws everywhere these days, proper security measures were absolutely necessary.
Robb turned back to look at Moat Cailin. The lords great and small were already fully prepared, ready to cross the swamps and seek a decisive battle with Tywin's army.
Robb looked toward an older knight and spoke politely, "Ser Blackfish, you are the most familiar with the situation in the Riverlands. I'll have to trouble you to take extra care of the road ahead."
Ser Blackfish's true name was Brynden Tully, the younger brother of the current Lord of the Riverlands. Unwilling to accept the marriage his elder brother arranged for him, he broke away from House Tully and raised a banner of his own—the Blackfish—hence why Robb addressed him as Ser Blackfish.
He had originally followed Lysa to serve in the Vale of Arryn, but upon hearing of the tragic state of the Riverlands, he resolutely came to the battlefield with his niece, Catelyn.
So it couldn't be said that the Vale had completely stayed out of the war—at the very least, one knight had come.
By seniority, Ser Blackfish was Robb's grand-uncle, but on the battlefield Robb was the supreme commander. Thus, although Robb showed rare courtesy, that was as far as it went.
Though advanced in years, Ser Blackfish's eyes still gleamed with vitality. "Leave it to me."
Leaving behind a thousand archers to garrison Moat Cailin, Robb's great army marched south along the Kingsroad in an imposing column. As they crossed the swamps, the swamp lords sent scouts to guide them. The journey was tense but ultimately uneventful.
Once past the swamps, they entered the Riverlands. Ser Blackfish carefully selected a hundred men and a hundred fine horses to gather intelligence throughout this perilous land.
This grand-uncle of his was exceptionally capable. New information arrived every day. Most of it was bad news, but it was far better than being completely in the dark.
However, when Ser Blackfish placed the latest battle report on the table before the assembled lords, everyone fell silent.
"Kingslayer Jaime has led his forces to besiege Riverrun. Edmure Tully took his battered remnants and fought Jaime to the death beneath Riverrun's walls. In the end, he and many knights were captured alive by Jaime.
"Count Blackwood, who escaped by sheer luck, has led the remaining troops to hold Riverrun under siege."
Though Ser Blackfish reported the situation with a calm expression, his heart was already burning with anxiety—Edmure was his own nephew.
"After Ser Edmure Tully's defeat, most of the Riverlands' lords scattered like startled birds, fleeing back to their own castles, only to be crushed one by one by Lord Tywin's advancing army. Harrenhal was surrendered, and without Count Blackwood holding the seat, Raventree immediately fell."
"Lord Tywin's bannermen are burning, killing, and looting across the Riverlands. Several territories have already been reduced to scorched earth."
"Aside from Riverrun and Lord Frey's Twins, only House Mallister still holds Seagard in the Riverlands. But their numbers are few—they can barely make any difference."
When Greatjon Umber heard these reports, he was so furious his beard seemed ready to fly off. "Crushed this fast by the Lannisters? Tens of thousands of men! Even slaughtering tens of thousands of pigs wouldn't be this quick!"
Roose Bolton, as always, observed the situation with a keen eye. "On the Riverlands battlefield, House Lannister has already won. If we don't strike immediately, the Riverlands will be completely lost within ten days."
Rickard Karstark roared in rage, "Fight! We fight them now! Otherwise those bastards will think we're nothing but useless mouths to feed!"
Robb glanced at the reactions of the great lords he relied upon and sighed inwardly. Greatjon and Rickard Karstark were brave enough, but when it came to steadiness, it was still the old, crafty Leech Lord who inspired confidence.
No wonder, in the original timeline, he was able to wipe out House Stark and become the new Warden of the North.
Having made up his mind, Robb began issuing his tactical arrangements. "Ser Blackfish, keep a close watch on the skies. If any raven that isn't ours dares to take flight, shoot it down. I don't want our every move in the Riverlands to be under the enemy's surveillance."
Ser Blackfish replied respectfully, "I've already made the arrangements. If you wish, I can make you a hat right now from the feathers of the ravens we've shot down."
Robb was extremely satisfied with Ser Blackfish's performance. "See? This is what you call professionalism."
Roose Bolton also glanced at Ser Blackfish. He had long heard that this knight's abilities far surpassed those of his nephew, Ser Edmure. Now it seemed his capabilities were even greater than the rumors suggested.
"You all know the current situation. The Green Fork flows from north to south, dividing our battlefield into two parts. To the west lies Riverrun; to the east, the Kingsroad. I told you before that I would concentrate our main force in the east and fight Lord Tywin's army head-on."
The northern lords thought Robb had changed his mind. What he said next made them wonder if their ears were malfunctioning.
Robb's finger slid across the map and finally stopped at Riverrun. "My plan is still the same as before. But there is one more thing I need to tell you. I will personally lead the Wolf Cavalry to reinforce Riverrun. You will take the troops and hold Lord Tywin back on the Kingsroad."
The expressions on the lords' faces shifted dramatically. They hadn't expected their leader's madness not only to remain uncured, but to have worsened.
Before Edmure had been captured by the Kingslayer Jaime, they already believed that only by uniting the northern army with the Riverlands' forces would they have a solid chance of defeating Jaime.
Now that Edmure was captured and the Riverlands' strength had been severely weakened, even with the northern army joining in, there would only be a sixty percent chance of victory. Yet Robb actually intended to go reinforce them with just three hundred cavalry?
How was that any different from throwing himself into certain death?
But thinking of the many unbelievable feats Robb had displayed recently, a faint spark ignited in their hearts once more. Perhaps Lord Robb still had another card up his sleeve?
...
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Here are a few fan-fic titles that I've recently uploaded on my Patreon:
"Game of Thrones: Dragon Prince"
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"Game of Thrones The Glory of a Knight"
(End Chapter)