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KoW - Chapter 11
🕑 Added 2024-10-14 18:50:22 +0000 UTCBrynden Tully
At this point, war councils were routine for Brynden.
He experienced so many battles, so many wars, that the usual bickering, arrogant lords believing their experience beating down a couple of unwashed bandits accords them the right to dictate strategy, and tempers flaring between factions who desire different things due to different reasons were simple matters.
It was his experience that made this particular meeting all the more strange.
For one, the young Lord encouraged all others to bring along their younger sons, usually that wouldn’t happen unless the concerned party was a veteran of many battles with a reputation of his own, yet maybe due to his own age, Robb Stark invited them to not only spectate, but to give their own opinions too.
Cat wasn’t present, mostly as a late sign of chastisement from Robb for her actions, and to take care of Hoster on his final days.
Most importantly, it was the silence. Stark had managed to secure passage through the Frey’s bridge with minimal loss, came up with a strategy that allowed them to not only preoccupy Tywin’s host but also predicted a tactic that would allow Bolton to bleed him of 5000 men to his own 1000, and then he lead two subsequent battles that would overwhelm the Lannister Host holding Riverrun hostage capturing the Kingslayer and many more, showcasing not only a frightening acumen but also a very formidable skill at arms, all the while managing the temper of much older and stubborn lords.
Now, with his reputation established and his position secured, all wished to simply hear of his next steps, creating an unnerving feeling for the veteran Tully.
With his direwolf at his feet yet still reaching his shoulders, Robb Stark mindlessly scratched his direwolf’s fur, his eyes almost meeting all the others one by one.
“We are still awaiting Stannis’ response, which puts us in an impasse in terms of our general allegiance.” He finally breaks the tension. “But that doesn’t change one fact, it isn’t loyalty or oaths that reunite us, even if they do play their role, but our utter disdain –and if I might say- hate of the Lannister’s conduct and arrogance.” He says.
“They have broken the laws of the gods and men, superseding the authority of the Iron Throne, and in their misguided pride, Tywin’s posse believed themselves too big, too strong for their own good.” He continues. “They stared so much at their coat of arms that they thought themselves lions with though hide, enough to be untouched by the rest of us.” He scoffs, yet the indifference in his face made it to be much more sarcastic. “It is time for them to taste their own blood, which is why I have thought to this course of action.”
Everyone keeps silent as he stands up next to the map, he puts both palms over the side of the table.
“Let us talk numbers, shall we?” He points at the figurines of horses and men denoting their numbers. “After our battles, we field in total some 28 000 infantry and 9000 cavalry, all gathered here, whilst the Lannisters have a larger force and another, smaller one.” He points to Harrenhall. “Tywin’s forces have already encamped in Harrenhall, there are news from refugees and scouts that say that he’d already released his mad dog and his outriders to sow chaos on the Riverlands once again, and while he may have suffered significant casualties in the battle of the Green Fork, courtesy of Lord Bolton, those losses are almost all footmen, which makes some 7500 footmen and an equal number of heavy cavalry.”
“The other force is in the Westerlands, their numbers are unknown as they should still be gathering, but including the surviving 3000 men from the Battle of the Camps (the battle to relieve Riverrun) and the remaining able bodied men and sellswords from the region, we must expect a sizable if untrained force.” He finally finishes, looking around. “I have my own ideas, yet there is no harm in listening to others, any volunteers?”
The silence was almost ironic, Brynden could see that most had their own ideas, yet no one wished to be the first to voice them in fear of reprisal. Finally, the older Karstark son, the fierce one called Harrion, speaks.
“We outnumber the Lannisters in both infantry and cavalry; we even have finer longbow men within our ranks.” The man’s voice is measured and confident, yet it didn’t feel arrogant. “Why not simply go on the offense?”
This time, it was Brynden that sought to interrupt. “That is not as simple as it sounds.” He approaches the map himself. “You see, while Clegane is confiscating and burning our grain, Tywin had comfortably set himself in Harrenhall, the castle is dilapidated yes, but also easily defensible, it would take an army at least 10 times larger to lay siege to it.”
Robb nods in assent. “Harrenhall has a fascinating similarity to Riverrun, see the castle is so large that you have one of two choices, scatter your forces in order to keep all gates shut, or choose one side and keep all forces there.” He explains further. “You do the former, Tywin will simply gather all forces and charge at your main camp, you do the latter, he separates his forces in twain and flanks you.”
Jonos Bracken clicks his tongue. “And he’d already enough foodstuff to feed his army for weeks, with a baggage train from the Crownlands already secured.” He elaborates. “When we’re stuck dealing with him, his vassals would have already gathered another host that could fall on us from the Golden Tooth.”
Harrion nobly nods his head. “That is fair.” He admits.
Rickard Karstark lets out a small smile; it seems his son’s humble nature pleased the sire.
“I say we follow our earlier strategy.” Bolton’s soft voice echoes, it is so slight that it forces one to listen intently, so the room keeps quiet in order to hear. “We split our forces; we leave all our infantry and the Riverlands knights to defend our position here in Riverrun, whilst our northern horse could move accordingly across the Riverlands, much like the Mountain and his outriders, yet larger in scale.” He proposes.
Most take some time to ponder the idea, few finding a flaw in it.
Brynden inwardly nods, it is not a perfect plan, and if he hadn’t discussed next steps with Robb and Edmure he wouldn’t have found any fault with it.
Looking around, he could already see several Riverlander lords who nod in assent. Particularly those with castles besieged or captured by the Lannisters, with a large number of fast horsemen capable of moving around unimpeded, it’d be an easy task to liberate their lands, saving them much chagrin.
He couldn’t help but take a second look at Roose, he wasn’t familiar with Northern lords much, but he knew him to be a dangerous yet cautious man. It is to be expected for him to come up with such a plan.
A ghost of a smile shows on Robb’s face. “That is somewhat close to what I came up with.” He grabs the horse figures denoting their northern horsemen. “Except, we shall not center our defense around Riverrun, and our northern cavalry will not head east.” He puts the horses next to the Golden Tooth.
While everyone is digesting the thought, Robb moves the other game pieces.
1500 cavalry and 5000 thousand men stay in Riverrun, whilst the rest of the 23 infantry are split in 4 on strategic points in the Red Fork. “I will lead 6000 cavalry into the Westerlands, targeting the smaller force to be raised, meanwhile, a reserve of 1500 cavalry and 5000 men shall stay here in Riverrun. The rest of our footmen will be arrayed in several strategic points around the Red Fork defending it in case Tywin’s men decide to cross.” He explains. “The last 1500 men shall be led by Ser Brynden Tully-“Robb nods towards him. “-Who will cross the Red Fork and harass enemy lines or relieve castles.”
“How do we know that Tywin will cross the Red Fork?” Tytos Blackwood asks. “And how do you expect to take the Golden Tooth?”
“We don’t know if he will cross, but we can reliably expect him to do so.” The Young Lord explains. “I see two reasons mainly, first and most simply, pride, I don’t see the arrogant Tywin Lannister standing still while his own kingdom is attacked, not without a very good reason. Secondly, and the most crucial one, is that we have to consider that we aren’t the greatest threat to Lannister legitimacy, that honor goes to Stannis and Renly Baratheon.”
The lords nod in assent.
“The reason Tywin chose Harrenhall to put his forces is not only for its ease of defense, but also to have flexibility of movement.” Robb grabs one of the horses atop Harrenhall, moving it back to Kingslanding, then the Riverlands, then the Westerlands. “That position offers him the privilege of being able to react to enemy actions. When it comes to the Baratheon brothers, Renly is still slowly marching along the Stormlands, prancing his way to Storm’s End, in that case, Tywin’s reaction depends entirely on our actions, and most importantly, Stannis’.”
“Stannis has two choices; his lack of land bound support forces him to depend on his naval superiority, so he either has to lay siege to Kingslanding or Storm’s End, either choice has its own pros and cons, yet both would take significant amount of time, months, at the very least.”
What went unsaid was the unlikely chance that Stannis has a hidden card to play, yet those same words must be going through Tywin’s mind right now, which is what matters for this scenario.
“Which will make Tywin feel comfortable enough to try reinforcing his lands.” Tytos nods in understanding. “And even if he doesn’t, we lose nothing.”
“Exactly.” Robb agrees. “As for the Golden Tooth, who said anything about taking it?”
--*
After a long while of discussing the details of the war and whoever will lead what, the war council was finally over.
Edmure walks past the fuming Greatjon with a pep in his step, he was charged with leading the contingent at Riverrun, but also to coordinate between all other forces while handling their logistics, a significant position that perfectly played on his strengths.
The Riverlander infantry was scattered across different positions, which was clever, putting the likes of Tytos Blackwood and Jonos Bracken on the same camp is like asking for it to burn.
Most importantly, and the reason for Jon Umber’s anger, was that the 1500 cavalry stationed in Riverrun as reserves were to be put under his leadership (Nominally under the leadership of Edmure, which just made the man angrier.).
His anger was totally misplaced, as before the giant of a man could storm off he was wordlessly called by the young Stark to stand at his side.
Before words could be raised, Robb speaks up softly to the man. “How would you like to fell a Mountain, Greatjon?”
Anger turns into shock, and shock into a grin that would bring nightmares to lesser men.
