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Chapter 51: The Drums of War
🕑 Added 2024-08-25 10:19:06 +0000 UTCMoat Cailin
Robb Stark
“Do you know why I called you here, Theon?” I asked the ward of my family—someone I could call a friend, though, at this moment, I needed to convey the seriousness of the situation.
“Because of my almost-outburst when you arrived,” he said, head bowed.
“Aye. Did you understand why I silenced you, Theon?” I continued, wondering how I should nip his ambitions in the bud.
He didn't answer, but I was determined to have this conversation now.
“If the Iron Islands attack the North or our allies, they will be decimated,” I told him bluntly. “Your father is a fool if he thinks history will not repeat itself.”
“But Robb, I could convince him to ally with the North!” Theon exclaimed. I sighed in frustration.
“You are an outsider to them, Theon,” I said gravely. “You do not follow their customs, and they won’t respect you.”
“How would you know?!” he shouted in my face, only to pale as he saw the stormy look on mine.
“Do not raise your voice at me again, Greyjoy,” I said coldly. “I am your friend, but I am also your lord, and you will respect me.”
“I know because I’ve read,” I continued with a shake of my head, “something you clearly didn’t do. You’ve never paid the iron price. You don’t search for salt wives or follow any of their customs.”
“After all this time, I wouldn’t be surprised if your sister was the heir of Pyke in your stead,” I added.
“They can't do that! I am the heir!” he murmured, and I hid a smile. Making him feel betrayed by his family would be the easiest way to make him forget about this so-called alliance.
“You are the next Lord of the Iron Islands, and when this war is over, I will ensure everyone knows that,” I assured him. “But if you decide to leave for any reason to join your family against us, you will die by my hand, and your bloodline will end.” My voice darkened.
“If there is one thing I despise more than my enemies, it’s disloyalty under my roof,” I finished, my face grim.
Theon nodded meekly. I hoped he understood. He was my friend, and I had known him for over five years—without counting the original Robb's memories—and it would pain me, but I would fulfill my promise.
“Now go and rest. We’ll talk more later,” I commanded him.
He nodded after a moment and left my room. I began planning for when Jon arrived.
Five Days Later
We didn’t have to wait long for the rest of the army. The next day, they began trickling in. So far, aside from a few war council meetings, everything had been relatively calm. We were simply waiting for Jon’s arrival.
That’s why I was walking toward the back entrance. I could see him at the edge of my range, accompanied by a surprisingly large group. What shocked me more were his companions. I hadn’t expected to see Lord Commander Mormont, let alone Ser Alliser Thorne. Alongside them were Uncle Benjen and Samwell Tarly. In the back was a carriage carried by unnamed Night’s Watch brothers, making my heart race. If Uncle Benjen had succeeded, it would have helped us immensely.
“Open the gates!” I ordered the guards, my shout rousing them from sleep.
Trust Jon to arrive when everyone’s asleep.
As the guards rubbed their eyes and rose, some thought it wise to wake the commanders and lords inside the moat. Before I knew it, the courtyard was full of people wondering what was happening.
Waiting for the spotters to confirm their arrival, I played with Shadow. It had been a long time since I’d last seen him before returning to the North, and I missed watching him grow from a puppy to the killing machine he was now. Thanks to my orders, the maester had been feeding him a mixture of my insects that promoted growth. He was now bigger, stronger, and more deadly than his canon counterpart.
Looking at Jon, I noticed the dark circles under his eyes. Weariness clung to the entire group, though some tried to hide it behind grim expressions.
“Jon, it’s been so long,” I said, embracing him before stepping aside so he could see that Father was safe and sound.
His shoulders relaxed, and I was glad to see a small smile crack through his usual stoicism.
“What news do you bring?” I asked, steering the conversation to the important matters at hand.
“I’m afraid we bring bad news, Lord Stark,” the Lord Commander began. “Your fears were correct. The White Walkers are a threat to the Seven Kingdoms.”
“We need every realm united against this threat,” Uncle Benjen added.
I burst out laughing.
“Easier said than done, Uncle,” I replied. “We’ll have to do it with our own forces for now.”
“What do you mean?” Benjen asked.
“We’re preparing for war, Uncle,” I shrugged. “But don’t worry, the Wall will have our full support, and we’ll send our defeated enemies to help you deal with the threat.”
As we talked, Lord Glover approached us. “Do you have proof of this?”
“Aye, I lost half of my team to get it,” Benjen said grimly. “Only thanks to Robb were we able to return.”
Ser Alliser walked to the carriage and opened it. Inside was a wight, bound in steel chains to prevent any risk.
“By the gods,” Maege Mormont muttered. “Lord Stark was right.”
“What do you mean, thanks to Lord Stark?” Lord Flint asked, inspecting the wight with a critical eye.
“When I last visited Winterfell, he gave me gifts that proved useful against them,” Benjen nodded. “They cannot be harmed by conventional methods but are vulnerable to dragonglass.”
“That’s why we’re here, my lords,” the Lord Commander interjected. “During my childhood, I read a book that said Skagos had a significant amount of dragonglass.”
This hit me hard—I hadn’t known that.
“Are you sure, Lord Commander?” I asked seriously.
“Aye, Lord Stark. I’m not so old as to confuse that,” he confirmed.
“This changes things,” I mumbled, beginning to think.
Everyone fell silent as I paced, weighing the pros and cons of my plan.
“This is what we’ll do,” I began. “Since our total army is a little more than fifty thousand, we have some wiggle room for the next steps.”
“First, twenty thousand soldiers will stay in the moat under my command. I’ll take a small group against the Freys. After that, the rest of the army will go south with me,” I continued, outlining my plan.
“Of the remaining army, twenty thousand will leave with my father, and he will command them from Winterfell,” I explained, looking directly into my father’s eyes until he nodded resolutely.
“There, he’ll assess the best course of action against the White Walkers, sending soldiers to different key points and to the Wall.”
“I’ll do as you say, Lord Stark,” Father nodded solemnly, and I exhaled, relieved by his support.
“There’s one more thing I need you to do,” I said gravely. “You need to communicate with the Skagosi and ask them to sell their dragonglass to the North.”
“If that doesn’t work, offer them asylum in Froststorm and the former Bolton lands. Promise them that as long as they bend the knee and follow our laws, they’ll have our support.”
“And if that doesn’t work?” Lord Karstark interjected gruffly, his experience with the Skagosi evident. “Those bastards are barely human.”
I sighed. “If that doesn’t work, you’ll need to invade the island to obtain the mineral,” I said with finality. “I’m afraid there’s no other option. And if you don’t feel capable of that, Lord Karstark will take command.”
“The White Walkers are a threat to the living. If the Skagosi can’t understand the gravity of the situation, we’ll have to subjugate them,” I continued. “I’m not asking for something like the rape of the Three Sisters, but we need to bring them under our control for access to the dragonglass.”
Father looked conflicted, but he nodded, and I let out a sigh of relief. I hoped that since his last betrayal, he would begin thinking differently—and I was right. Now, I just hoped I had made the right choice.
“Of those twenty thousand, you’ll need to send some to the northernmost parts for protection—Bear Island, Deepwood Motte, Sea Dragon Point, Last Hearth, and Karhold,” I continued. “I trust every lord has left a sizable force to guard their lands as I instructed.”
“Aye,” came the responses from the lords, and I nodded, satisfied. They might not be the best, since most were here, but even recruits could help if things took a turn for the worse.
“The rest of the army will be stationed in the central North,” I added grimly. “The main threat will be the Ironborn if they attempt another rebellion, which I believe they will.”
I glanced at Theon as I said this, pleased to see him keeping his head low. I hoped he wouldn’t betray me, but I was prepared for that possibility.
“Most lords will remain in their territories and will command the groups assigned to them,” I stated firmly. “There is one last thing to address.”
“Anyone from outside the North or Riverlands is our enemy—show them no mercy. However, if they surrender, take them alive and send them to the Wall. As we now know, we’ll need all the help we can get,” I concluded my speech.
“You remind me of the Kings of the North I’ve read about,” said Maege Mormont, giving me a strange look.
Lord Umber guffawed. “Aye, and why couldn’t he be one? To Robb Stark, King of the North!” he shouted, raising his cup of vodka.
Alarmed, I looked around, as this was supposed to happen after some victories. But I couldn’t detect any opposition to what Lord Umber had just proclaimed.
One by one, the lords and soldiers stood up, took their weapons, and bent their knees. “Robb Stark, King of the North!” they shouted in unison, and I felt a lump in my throat.
“I will work hard to bring the North victories,” I managed to say, my voice tight with emotion. “To the North!” I shouted, raising my cup.
“The North!” “Long live the King!” “Fuck the Lannisters!”
