Chapter 24: Ashes in the wind

Jaime drank deep from his cup draining the last drops of Arbor Gold. While he was no heavy drinker like his brother, today he gave himself an exception. When he had taken command of the armies of King Tommen, he thought he could do away with cruel acts and restore a semblance of peace.

His actions and his love for his sister brought great misfortune to Westeros. He lost two children to poison and he knew the pain of loss. He felt it strong when his daughter died in his arms for the crimes committed by his father. So, he thought he would save his last child by resolving the wrongs he had done in the Riverlands.

But now, he realised he was no different from his father.

'Necessity makes men do evil deeds.' he thought grimly as he filled his cup with wine from the pitcher.

Only wine could dull his mind and stop him from thinking of what he did or at least what he threatened to do.

Jaime remembered not too long ago he had questioned his father about the Red Wedding. His father had turned that question around on him.

'Does it matter whether our enemies are killed on a battlefield or in a wedding?'

He thought the answer to that question was 'yes' yet he stayed silent that day. Now, he knew why he stayed silent instead of answering 'yes'.

'Because I'm Tywin Lannister's son and I have more in common with father than I realized.'

Only Tywin Lannister's son could threaten Edmure Tully with catapulting his pregnant wife over Riverrun's walls. He had done so only after exhausting every other way to end this conflict to a peaceful conclusion. The Blackfish remained stubborn and Edmure Tully was full of anger, resentment and self-pity to properly think about his many offers for peace.

It was only when he knew in his heart there will be no negotiated peace did he resort to threats and intimidation. He arranged the bards to sing the Rains of Castamare over and over for Edmure Tully for a few days. The sleep-deprived Lord of Riverrun was more than ready to listen to his words on the fourth day. It was then he made his threats and the man agreed to his demands readily out of fear for his unborn child.

A part of Jaime wished Edmure to have simply discarded his demands if only to see whether he would have gone through with his threats. Right now, he had no idea whether he would have killed Roslin Frey and the child growing in her womb. And this thought ate him up.

'Well, it won't be the first time that I would raise my hand to kill a child.' he thought as he was reminded of Brandon Stark.

He had pushed the Stark boy from the top of the tower and made the boy a cripple. When the Greyjoys took Winterfell the young lad couldn't even run to save his life, all because of his actions.

'The Lion does not concern himself with the opinions of the sheep.' he thought bitterly before gobbling another mouthful of wine.

Jaime let out an appreciative hum as the wine trickled down his throat.

"I see you have picked up drinking as a habit, nephew. Not a good habit in these times, mind you." said his aunt Genna who was now standing inside his tent.

"Tyrion would have loved this wine. It is a fine batch." he said nonchalantly looking at his cup and drained the rest in one go.

"Tyrion had his reasons to drink as much as he did. Even then, he always knew when to drink and when not to. You, on the other hand…" Genna trailed off before she took a seat across from him.

"Why the concern dear aunt?" he asked before refilling his cup despite his aunt's disapproving stare.

"I think I should be concerned seeing as you are the one who is supposed to reclaim Riverrun for us."

"Yes. Worry not. You and your children will have your new castle. You have my word."

"Is that why you sent Edmure Tully into the castle? I wonder what madness has gripped your mind to hand over Edmure to the Blackfish?"

"Do not speak to me as you speak to your husband, aunt." Jaime thundered smashing his metal hand against the wooden table. "I do what I do to win at all costs with minimal losses to my men. I will not be questioned by anyone against my command."

Genna let out a scoff to his mild surprise and looked the least bit phased by his outburst.

"I am Tywin Lannister's sister nephew. I have lived with him longer than you did so believe me when I say you are not nearly as intimidating as my brother." said Genna with a glare. "Now, if you have calmed down explain why you sent our hostage into the castle."

Jaime didn't feel he had to explain himself to anyone but he let that feeling pass.

"To ensure Brynden Tully surrender Riverrun." said Jaime with a sigh as he refilled his cup with more wine.

"I think you are overestimating what Blackfish is capable of. He is an old man pinned down inside a castle surrounded by enemies. Edmure Tully is the Lord of Riverrun and he is well-loved by the smallfolk. How is setting him free going to make Brynden Tully surrender?"

Jaime shook his head holding back a sigh not to seem disrespectful. Edmure Tully is a fool, a fool with a good heart he would say. It was for this reason that he threatened the life of the man's unborn child and wife. Just as he assumed Edmure buckled under his threat.

Edmure was never a threat to Lannister rule. The real threat came from Brynden Tully.

The Blackfish is an old man but a stubborn, vindictive and capable old man. The man is a gifted battle commander and played a critical role in the Young Wolf's campaign. The Riverlords respect Brynden Tully more than Edmure Tully. If Riverlands has to come under the King's peace Brynden Tully should be removed from the land.

Jaime knew why his aunt is concerned about Edmure. Tommen granted the Lordship of Riverrun to Emmon Frey who happens to be his aunt's husband. This would make his aunt the lady of Riverrun, an elevation to her status from just being Tywin Lannister's sister. With Edmure Tully and his progeny amongst the living, his aunt feared for her children's inheritance.

While he knew his aunt to be far more intelligent than her husband he has to disagree with her assumption about Edmure Tully. The Lord of Riverrun is certainly loved by the Smallfolk.

But for how long will this last?

The smallfolk and Riverlords dislike the Freys but despite all that, they are tired of war. Edmure is married to a Frey and the war just drags on bringing death and misery everywhere. It could be arranged so that the Smallfolk resent the man's Frey wife and any possible heirs from their union.

Brynden Tully on the other hand has no such weakness. The Blackfish has the ability to rally the Riverlords to his side and Jaime believed this will happen if a whiff of weakness can be seen among the Lannisters. Already, the Blackwoods are supporting the Tullys. The Mallisters, Vance, Piper and many other houses had initially joined House Tully only to dip their banners later.

To Jaime, peace in the Riverlands hinged on his ability to capture Brynden Tully. He would have ensured the Blackfish was allowed to take the Black or his old post at the Bloody Gate.

But now, seeing the man's stubborn nature, there was only one way to ensure the Crown's hold on Riverlands remains stable. Brynden Tully should die, failing that, the man must be taken prisoner to King's Landing or Casterly Rock.

"You need not worry about Edmure Tully, dear aunt. He will open the gates of Riverrun for us." said Jaime

'If he did not then I'll be forced to go through with my threat.' he thought grimly

"How can you be sure?" asked Genna

"Family, Duty and Honour are the words of House Tully. Lord Edmure will open the gates for he loves his wife and his unborn child. He loves them more than a pile of stone and wood." said Jaime before taking another mouthful of wine.

'And I respect him more for that same reason.'

******

Brynden Tully watched on as the drawbridge was let down for Edmure to enter the castle. He knew exactly why his nephew was released but he would not deny the Lord of Riverrun passage to his castle. That fork-tongued Lannister may have convinced his nephew to surrender the castle. Or maybe his nephew will grow a backbone and join him on the castle walls to defend their home.

Whatever the case might be, Brynden knew what he was going to do. He will fight till the very end for his home. In the end, the only fate he can control is his own and that is what he will do.

Riverrun held many memories for him. It was within these walls he grew up. He learned to be a man, a knight of honour and chivalry from his father within these walls. He learned about the great feats of his ancestors, the rich history of many of the great lords of House Tully. It was here he taught his nephew to walk. It was here he read stories to his nieces, his dear Cat and Lysa. It was also in this castle he quarrelled with his brother.

There were many happy memories and equally bad ones as well. Looking back, he felt blessed to have such a family to call his own. Many others were not so fortunate as he was. Now, his brother and nieces were dead. Only two Tullys remained among the living and only one can ensure the name remains.

At this point, he cared not for the continuity of the name. His sole goal was now to inflict as much damage on the Lannisters. This is why he declined to concede Riverrun without a fight. He will bleed the Lannisters white and if luck would have it he will do what Robb Stark should have done. Kill the Kingslayer and put his head on a spike.

These days he lived not for his family or his house. Only the memories of his family remained in his heart. This is why he refused to concede Riverrun to some filthy rats and their honourless masters that easily. There was nothing much to live for but plenty to die for.

He silently watched as his nephew climb up the steps to join him on the wall. There was a vacant look in the eyes of his nephew and Brynden felt a twinge of sympathy. Edmure looked like he got a much-needed wash but no amount of bath was going to hide the scars on a soul.

"I want you to surrender."

It was the first thing his nephew spoke and that made Brynden scoff.

"Surrender?" Brynden asked incredulously before he laughed. "Is this why the Kingslayer released you Edmure? Then he will be terribly disappointed."

"Uncle." Edmure took a deep breath. "I am the Lord of Riverrun and I'm ordering you to surrender the castle."

Brynden took a good look at his nephew before snorting derisively.

"Lord of Riverrun? I don't see a Lord of Riverrun before me. What I see is a spineless wimp puppeteered by the Lannisters spurred on by threats or perhaps promise of riches and a warm home far away from this castle." Brynden said with a frown. "Tell me, what did the Lannisters offer you? A good bed? A meal perhaps? Oh, don't tell me the Kingslayer offered you a castle and a comely wife."

"Enough uncle. I am the Lord of Riverrun and you will obey me."

"If you were the Lord of Riverrun then you wouldn't order me to surrender." said Brynden as he folded his hands.

"I have no choice!" Edmure's voice turned desperate. "The Kingslayer will catapult my pregnant wife over the walls if there is no surrender."

"Wife! What wife?" Brynden thundered as he pushed his nephew against the stone walls of his home. "What kind of wife stands by and watch as her husband's sister gets slaughtered in her home? What kind of wife stays silent as her husband's nephew's pregnant wife was butchered? What kind of wife stays silent as her husband's friends get slaughtered like pigs?"

Brynden surged forward and slapped Edmure across the face. "Open your eyes you fool!"

Brynden caught his nephew by the neck and dragged him over so they were overlooking the Tully men and the smallfolk inside the castle.

"Look at them! These are people who lost their loved ones in this war. They have lost fathers, brothers, sons, daughters, mothers, sisters and friends in this war to the filth camped outside this castle. If Riverrun surrenders those Freys will continue to harm our people. The Lannisters will continue to burn and loot our lands. Is that what you want?"

"But my child…"

"But nothing! You are the lord of Riverrun. Everyone here is under your protection. Now, tell me? Will you value the lives of the people loyal to our House or will you value the life of a lying treacherous whore of House Frey?"

"But she carries my child!" screamed Edmure

"Does she? You know this to be fact now Edmure?" asked Brynden trying hard to sound as normal as possible all the while holding back his instinct to bash the head of his thick-headed nephew against the wall.

"I saw her. I spoke to her. She is with child."

"And how do you know she carries your child?" asked Brynden patiently

"What!"

"For all you know Walder Frey's seed is growing inside her. I wouldn't put it past that pathetic filth at this point."

"She is carrying my child." cried Edmure hysterically.

"But you don't know that for a fact. I wonder how you believe anything these lying honourless cunts say Edmure. Are you willing to throw everything our ancestors built on the word of a Frey whore?"

"She is not a whore. She is my wife!"

Brynden released his hold on his nephew's neck and stood back. "I see. So you have already decided and nothing I say will convince you otherwise."

"I do not want to see any more death. There has been enough killing." said Edmure with tears running down his eyes.

"No, Edmure. There will be more killing to come. Give the order to raise the gates if you so wish. The men may heed your order. But I won't stand aside and let my home fall to the Lannisters and Freys." said Brynden before he turned around and started to climb down the stairs.

"What will you do?" asked Edmure from his back which gave him pause.

"Fight. Fight till the very end." he answered before he picked up a shield and readied his sword for the last fight of his life.

'I was born in this castle, it is only right that I die here defending it.' Brynden thought

"But you will die." cried Edmure

"We all die. Let the Stranger come if he so wishes. I will make him wait a bit longer to collect me."

He took his position near the drawbridge and waited patiently. 'Finally. I'm coming brother. Just wait a bit more.'

******

"Ser Jaime… Ser Jaime!"

Edwyn Frey rushed into his tent interrupting his conversation with Aunt Genna.

"Well, what is it?" he snapped not too happy to wait as the Frey before he struggled to breathe properly.

The Freys seems to possess an uncanny gift in annoying him. Yesterday, it was Ryman Frey that annoyed him the most and he had the man expelled from this siege.

Now, Ryman's son stood before him and he was a moment away from expelling the son to join the father.

"Ser Jaime, Riverrun has lowered the Stark and Tully banners. The drawbridge lowers as we speak." said Edwyn breathlessly and Jaime could see the Frey's eyes shining with excitement. "Riverrun is surrendering."

'Now, that's a bit of good news.' thought Jaime with relief as the built-up anger inside his mind bled away in an instant in favour of this bloodless victory.

"Bring me Addam Marbrand and Lyle Crakehall." he ordered immediately and watched on silently as the Frey scurry away from his tent.

"It seems you were right to send Edmure Tully. The man must have been terrified for his life." said Genna radiating happiness.

'It's not for his life he fears.' thought Jaime as he stepped out of his tent.

He was immediately joined by his three squires Lewys Piper, Garrett Paege and Josmyn Peckledon.

"Your horse Ser." said Lewys Piper. The youngest son of Clement Piper handed over the reins of his horse, Honor.

Jaime took stock of the Piper boy and thought of some opinions from the Westerland lords. Many of the Westerland lords were wary of the Riverlords. The attacks on their caravan and supply lines were keeping their forces spread thin not to mention depleting their resources. Many of the lords suspected the Riverlords were in cahoots with the Brotherhood. Some went as far as to say that it was the Riverlords themselves who were responsible for these attacks.

This had nearly spilt into a fight between the two groups of lords. He managed to drain the attitudes out of both groups and since then his camp has been split. The Riverlords except the Freys were now camped further south of Riverrun and so far this has kept the peace in his host.

But, if there was any truth to the concerns of his fellow Westermen then he would see to it he will have only one squire. Josmyn Peckledon was more than enough for a squire and the boy was a Westerman.

"It looks like there won't be a battle." said Bronn who welcomed himself in with a swagger. Jaime credited that to the cup of wine held in Bronn's hand.

"You seem disappointed." said Jaime

"Oh, I'm happy. Look…" Bronn raised the cup and drained the wine. "That's why I'm celebrating."

Another familiar voice joined them and this time it was Jaime's old friend.

"It looks like we may get a bloodless victory." said Addam Marbrand with a pleased smile stretching on his face.

"The Blackwoods remain defiant to the Crown, my lord. We will most likely see blood spill." said Lyle Crakehall the Strongboar as he too joined Jaime's side.

"With Riverrun in our hands, I'm sure Tyros Blackwood will see reason and bend the knee. I'd be more worried about the Brotherhood." said Addam Marbrand

"The Blackwoods and the Brotherhood can wait my friend." Jaime commented before turning to address the Strongboar. "I want you to lead our men and secure the castle while Ser Addam captures Brynden Tully."

"As you wish Ser Jaime."

Jaime watched the two knights leave. He hoped Riverrun would surrender without any incident.

"So, where will you send the old man and the Tully men-at-arms?" asked Bronn

"If Brynden Tully is willing, the Wall probably."

"How's that going to happen?" asked Bronn

"Mayhaps a ship could be arranged to set sail for Eastwatch." he said with a shrug.

Before anything else could be said a commotion broke out in the camps caught their attention.

"What is going on over there?" Jaime asked with a frown.

"Most likely a drunken brawl. A few Freys were picking fights with the Crownlanders this morning." said Bronn

"Knock some sense into them." ordered Jaime with a grimace.

"With pleasure." said Bronn with a happy grin. "Always wanted to punch a highborn in the face."

Just as Bronn turned to leave Jaime watched the colour drain from Bronn's face.

"What?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Look…" Bronn trailed off with wide eyes pointing to the sky.

Jaime looked to the sky, his eyes widened in horror as a dragon emerged from the clouds. The earth-shattering roar sent a shiver down his spine and for a moment a veil covered his eyes.

Screams were the next thing he heard and his eyes found red hot flames everywhere. He was down on the ground with Bronn. He could feel the warmth of the flames. It held no comforting warmth, but the promise of destruction and death.

He realized Bronn had probably saved his life by tackling him to the ground away from the flame's path. It took him a moment to regain his bearings.

"We have to rally the men." he shouted as he made to move towards the camp but he flinched as the dragon made another pass over his head setting the camp alight with fire.

He watched in despair as men turn to ashes in the blink of an eye. As far as his eyes could see, the camp was on fire. The horses were weighing in pain and fear. Men were screaming and running to the nearest water source as they were being cooked alive in their armour. The moat surrounding Riverrun was filled with screaming men trying in vain to put out the fire. The archers atop the walls were only too happy to rain arrows down on his men.

"Are you insane! That is a freaking dragon. There is no rallying unless you want to burn like the rest of them." shouted Bronn who ducked as the dragon made another pass over the men.

The screams only intensified as red hot flames further spread as the wind blew towards the south. Black smoke was rising making it hard to see or breathe for that matter.

"No! We can still save them." said Jaime desperately before he managed to climb over a fleeing horse.

"You fool. You fuckin fool!" Bronn shouted after him but Jaime rushed his horse towards the soldiers.

"Archers! Archers! Line up!" he screamed and shouted through the ranks of his disarrayed army.

"We have lost. We will die if we stay and fight." screamed Lyle Crakehall who joined Jaime on a horse.

"We can win this fight." said Jaime stubbornly. "Archers, form a line! Form a line if you want to live. Form a line, you bastards!"

The dragon took a turn over the castle of Riverrun and then glided straight for his position.

"Archers, nock!" he shouted

Some fifty archers took up positions along the siege lines ready with their longbows.

The dragon drew closer and closer but before he could give the order to lose the arrows, a flock of crows attacked them disrupting their formation.

The next thing he knew he was thrown over by his horse as the dragon spit flames that vaporised his men. The smell of burnt flesh filled his nostrils. It was getting hard to breathe as black smoke filled his lungs. His heart hammered away and his body was being cooked inside the armour.

Black spots began to fill his vision and the last thing he saw before darkness took him was the charred corpse of Lyle Crakehall.

******

Randyll looked over the dark clouds gathering in the sky. Strong gales of wind swept through the land and he cursed the gods for throwing obstruction after obstruction on his path.

At first, the invasion into the Stormlands was an easy matter. The Stormlords were weak and they knew better than to oppose the progress of the Reach army under his command. The western parts of Stormlands remained loyal to the Crown. The southern parts he was not so sure as they had aligned with Stannis Baratheon. Their present state of loyalty was in flux.

The Dornish had already poisoned the Baratheon princess as revenge for the death of Prince Oberyn. It would be remiss of him if he were to take the Dornish threat lightly. This was why he split his 30,000 strong host in two. He left 5000 men at Summerhall so that they may reinforce the Dornish Marches near the Stormlands.

The rest of the army marched with him to reclaim the castles taken by the Golden Company. His house held archives of detailed campaigns of the Golden Company of the past. While he certainly knew there was fresh blood in the sellsword company it helped to know the enemy. His father and many of his relatives had fought in the war of Ninepenny Kings. The accounts of the war were particularly brutal.

While the war of Ninepenny Kings was fought in the Stepstones, it helped him to study the resources that the Golden Company could employ at a given time.

Unlike the previous time, the present-day Golden Company lacked a professional fleet as far as he knew. If they did have a fleet he gathered they would have struck at Dragonstone. With the Royal Fleet decimated and only a portion of Redwyne Fleet present at the islands, the Golden Company could have taken the Narrow Sea.

'No doubt, Jon Connington has planned this attack on the Stormlands.' he thought

It was a sound move in his opinion. While some fools might think Connington chose to strike at the Stormlands as a show of revenge, he knew better.

As Kevan Lannister said, Connington is no fool.

By striking at the Stormlands, Connington has inadvertently spoken his secrets to Randyll. The Golden Company chose the Stormlands to land because they lacked a sizeable fleet. Even now, with the Redwyne Fleet taking its leave, the Golden Company chose to hole up in Storm's End rather than sail to Dragonstone.

This let Randyll know that the Golden Company is lacking in supplies and a professional fleet. Connington chose the Stormlands because the Golden Company can forage from the lands and fight their way to King's Landing. He assumed a sizeable Dornish host was being gathered at the Marches that will merge with the Golden Company. Together the two hosts could potentially fight their way into the Reach and many lords would throw in their lot behind the Mummer's Dragon.

Randyll could not allow the Reach to become the battleground of this war. If war is to spill into the Reach their fields will burn, granaries will be looted and food stocks will deplete. This will lead to famine and many more will die. Diseases will spread, bandits will scour the lands and the survivors will face winter with nothing in their hands.

The Ironborn has already proved to be a menace by taking the Shield Islands. From the latest reports, the Ironborn dealt a heavy blow to the Redwyne Fleet and now control some parts of Arbor. Last he heard, Whispering Sound had seen many Kraken sails too close to the bay. Oldtown is now in serious danger from the Iron Fleet. Under these circumstances, the Reach won't be able to withstand an invasion by the combined host of the Golden Company and Dorne.

This left Randyll with two options.

One, he could broker peace with this Aegon Targaryen and Jon Connington. If the boy is Rhaegar's son, the Iron Throne is his by right. Randyll will be warmly welcomed by Connington as they were old allies. House Tarly has always obeyed the will of Targaryen Kings and Queens after the Conquest.

Second, he commits to destroy the Golden Company and put Aegon Targaryen's head on a spike. With a Tyrell Queen in the Royal Court, his House will undoubtedly stand to gain favours. Despite his dislike of Mace Tyrell, he has a good working relationship with the man's children.

The Targaryen boy on the other hand is someone he did not know. There was a strong possibility that this Aegon is a Blackfyre hiding behind the Targaryen name.

It didn't matter whether this Aegon is a black or red dragon. If the Golden Company wins the Iron Throne for this Aegon then the Reach will bleed. The Golden Company is filled with leagues of exiles and bastards from the Reach. He doubted those exiles and bastards will be fine with their ancestral homes remain in the hands of another.

'If blood is to flow then let it flow in the Stormlands.' he thought grimly.

"Lord Tarly."

He addressed the guard who called for his attention.

"My lord, the lords have assembled as you ordered." said the guard with a bow.

"Good." he dismissed the guard before he made his way to the command tent.

The Lords of the Reach that travelled with him were assembled sitting around a table with refreshments. He took his seat at the head of the table.

"My lords. Thank you for your swift arrival. I believe Lord Rowan has some information to share with us." he nodded to the lord of Goldengrove to start the meeting.

"The scouts have returned my lords." said Lord Mathis

"And?" he prodded

"The men report 200 horses and some 500 men gathered outside Griffin's Roost. There are also accounts of smaller rafts and ships coming and going from the harbour near the castle."

"They saw ships? How many?" he asked curiously

"Five or six ships and ten or so rafts carrying people and barrels my lord." said Lord Rowan

"Could it be they are preparing to abandon their position and hole themselves at Storm's End?" asked Ser Martyn Fossoway

"It is possible they are preparing to leave or maybe not. What matters is that we must take Griffin's Roost back and dislodge the Golden Company." said Randyll

"Aye." agreed Orton Merryweather. "The sooner these sellswords are dealt with the sooner we can avoid an encirclement. While I commend your forward-thinking in leaving 5000 men at Summerhall, I don't think it will be enough. I doubt the loyalty of Blackhaven in the event of a Dornish invasion."

"I agree. House Dondarrion has fallen on hard times. The Lightning Lord now styles himself a bandit in the Riverlands." said Mathis Rowan with a derisive snort.

"All the more reason to fear a Dornish invasion as I doubt the Lady Dondarrion, Allyria Dayne, will be keen to stand against her people." Lord Orton pointed out keenly.

"Which is why we should have waited for more men to join our host." said Ser Martyn Fossoway

"There are no other men." said Randyll calmly. "We are all that is standing to cleanse our lands from foreign invaders. The eastern parts of the Reach have answered the call of King Tommen. The rest of the Reach must defend our coasts from the Ironborn."

"I agree with Lord Tarly." said Mathis Rowan after which the Lord of Goldengrove posed a question. "How do you propose we tackle the Golden Company, my lord?"

"From the word that we gathered House Estermont, Wylde, Connington and Morrigen have dipped their banners to the Golden Company. If we take Griffin's Roost we cut off the Golden Company from Cape Wrath. With Griffin's Roost as our base, we reclaim Rain House and Crow's Nest, adding House Wylde and House Morrigen to our strength. But, for all of this to work we need to attack now."

"Then that is what we shall do." said Lord Rowan

As promised, the Reach lords gathered their men and marched the whole day to be as close to Griffin's Roost. They made their camp at night and renewed their marching towards the castle on the next day. In the evening, Randyll could see the lands of House Connington. The fields were stripped bare of the harvest and he saw little of the Smallfolk.

'Would Connington allow his own lands to be destroyed like this? Or could it be that Connington does not hold sway over the sellsword company.' he thought grimly.

If the latter is the case, he feared the worst is yet to come for the people of this land.

A commotion broke out at the frontlines to his displeasure. He hated to admit it but the Reach army under his command was filled with greenboys. Most of the battle-hardened men were defending the coasts of the Reach. Even some of the lords accompanying his host knew little of war. Chief among them is Lord Orton Merryweather of Longtable who was galloping towards him on a horse.

"Lord Tarly, there seem to be men outside the walls of the castle. Some hundred horses and an equal number of foot."

'Now, that's curious. Why don't they just sit behind the walls? Could it be a trap?" he thought

"Take 200 horses, 50 spearmen and another 50 archers. Threaten the men holding the gates but only attack on my signal. Try to draw them out if you can. Good hunting Lord Merryweather."

Randyll clapped the Lord of Longtable on his shoulder before seeking out Lord Rowan.

"Lord Rowan, I want you to take some thousand men around the castle and attack from the south. Attack the harbour and cut off anyone that tries to escape. Expect a charge from the north."

"A flanking strike then. Good hunting Lord Tarly."

Lord Rowan nodded before breaking away with his men.

Randyll passed more orders to his army and watched from a good vantage point as the two lords made their progress.

Similarly, he decided to position the main army to the north of the castle so that he could reinforce Lord Orton or strike at the harbour at a moment's notice.

True to his word, Lord Mathis Rowan attacked the harbour and by the looks of it, the lord of Goldengrove has it handled. The knights of Goldengrove cut a swath through the harbour disrupting the movement of the enemy. Small fires were being lit up here and there and the screams of men and horses echoed through the lands.

The western front on the other hand quickly devolved into an all-out melee. Lord Orton to Randyll's surprise managed to draw out the Connington cavalry. The problem however was that, instead of picking off the enemy one by one with archers, Lord Orton chose to charge with his horses, no doubt in pursuit of glory.

Thankfully, Lord Orton has the numerical advantage so Randyll was not that worried.

So, he turned his attention to the ships and rafts leaving the harbour.

"Ser Martyn." he called for the knight of Longtable.

"My lord?"

"Take some archers and harry those on the boats. Take care to cover the flanks with a sizeable number of foot."

"Aye, my lord."

As Ser Martyn led a company of men to the coasts Randyll gazed from a distance as the sellswords and Connington men desperately take their leave by the sea. The tide of the battle was totally in his favour. Now, the aim was to bleed the Golden Company as much as possible. A few ships were remaining at the sea at a comfortable distance away from the range of his archers. They were most likely waiting for all the rowboats to return.

But the fighting was slowly settling down and he watched through a spyglass as Lord Mathis drive the enemy out of the harbour by himself.

"The day is ours." he declared earning a loud chorus of shouts of jubilation from the men.

With the enemy driven out to the seas, Randyll sent reinforcements to Lord Orton to secure the castle.

A few minutes later, Randyll watched from his position as Reachmen poured into the castle breaking the castle gates with a ram. By the looks of it, there was little to no castle garrison present inside the castle as the banner of the Crown flew over the walls. It'd seem Jon Connington chose to abandon his ancestral home in favour of reinforcing Storm's End.

Randyll could see where the decisive battle would take place. Connington wanted to fight him outside the walls of Storm's End.

If Dorne invades the Stormlands, the Reach army will be stuck between two armies. So, he would have to force Connington out of Storm's End by attacking all the other houses that fell to the Golden Company. By doing so he would cut off the supply lines of the enemy on the land. He could even perhaps ask the crown to send ships to take Estermont and deny any ports for the Golden Company.

Starving out the Golden Company at Storm's End seems to be the viable option for the time being as he feared a Dornish invasion. It was going to be a long campaign but unless something drastically changes he would be forced to pursue this strategy.

All of a sudden, his heart skipped a beat as the ships in the distance let loose artillery attacks which he assumed were stones dipped in oil. Fireballs rained down on the castle but to his relief, they struck at the walls and towers of the castle. Thankfully, the harbour was not struck where the Reachmen were concentrated.

The towers along the walls lit up with fire almost too quickly in his opinion. There were only a few ships and they could fire only so many artillery attacks like these at a time. Most likely those towers contained oil that caught fire rather quickly.

Randyll had to shield his eyes as Griffin's Roost exploded in green flames that were all too familiar.

"Wildfire!" the men shouted in terror.

"How?" he whispered in horror as the entire castle was rocked by a series of explosions.

"It was a trap." Randyll realized with a stroke of horridness.

"Fall back! Give the order to fall back!" he yelled

It took an ungodly amount of time for Randyll to secure a better part of his army from the fiery hell that was lit before his eyes. Bright green flames danced all over Griffin's Roost. It burned with fury and hunger of the seven hells.

******

"Ser Brynden, I ask for forgiveness. I had no choice but to stand with the Lannisters and Freys." said Lord Clement Piper with his head bowed low.

Brynden looked at the faces of Lord Richard Roote, Ser Hugo Vance, Lord Karyl Vance, Lord Lymond Goodbrook, Ser Leslyn Haigh as well as a few Lynchester and Smallwood knights. All of them were knights and lords of Riverlands. A few hours ago, they were all camped outside his home with the Lannisters and Freys. Now, the whole lot of them were standing before him, unarmed and unguarded begging for clemency.

"If I'm to start judging everyone for choosing their families over their oaths then first I'd have to punish my nephew who decided to surrender Riverrun."

When his nephew had lowered the drawbridge he firmly thought he was going to breathe his last. Yet, he never met his death and the lowered drawbridge let him see a different world altogether. He eyed the burned remains of Lannister camp as well as the Tully soldiers leading the survivors away.

There were very few survivors from the dragon's rampage. Most of the survivors he took prisoners after the flames died down were too injured to live through the day. He gave them a quick death rather than leave them to suffer. Nonetheless, there were a few Westerlanders that managed to escape not to mention the Freys. Those were hunted down by his men and taken prisoner. A good portion of Westerland nobility was now sitting quite comfortably in the dungeons. The rest were ashes in the wind.

"Ser Brynden, who was that dragonrider?" asked Ser Hugo Vance

"I know as much as you do my lords." he answered truthfully.

"Whoever it was seems to have left our camp alone. Thank the Seven my Lewys knew to ride straight for me else I'd be standing over the ashes of my son." said Lord Piper with obvious relief.

Brynden sympathized with the man. Lord Piper was forced to give up his son as a hostage to the Lannisters while his eldest son was held captive by the Freys at the Twins.

"No doubt the dragonrider was Daenerys Targaryen." said Lord Karyl Vance

"I thought the tales of Dragon Queen of the East to be a mummer's story." said Ser Leslyn Haigh with a troubled look.

"It'd seem it was no mere mummer's tale Ser. The dragons are real but I don't think it was a woman riding that dragon." commented Lord Piper

"I concur. I didn't get a good look at the rider but I get the feeling it was a male." said Lord Lymond Goodbrooke

"Whoever the rider was it seems we were not the target of the rider's ire. It would seem we have a potential ally." said Lord Piper with a bit of excitement.

"Don't be so sure Lord Piper." Brynden intervened to not let the lords get any ideas. "No doubt the rider was a Targaryen. And we all know how Targaryens turned out to be…"

Brynden trailed off as a screech pierced the sky and he saw the green dragon emerge from the clouds once more. The dragon landed close to the remains of Lannister camp living up smoke and ashes. The men panicked but he managed to keep the men contained lest they attract the ire of the dragon or its rider.

The lords and knights of the Riverlands collectively took a step back as the dragon let out a terrifying roar that shook many to the core. The horses became spooked and threw their riders down. Over the castle walls, archers lined up aiming for the dragon with their bows.

"Stand down you fools." he shouted towards the men and a hard glare later they obeyed his command by lowering their bows.

Brynden watched with baited breathe as the rider stepped down from the dragon's back. The figure removed the helmet and a boyish face greeted them inadvertently confirming this was not Daenerys Targaryen.

The rider was clad in black armour with a strange split sigil painted at the front. The wolf heads etched on the sides of the cuirass of the armour only made him frown in thought.

"Lords of Riverlands, you don't know me. My name is Daeron Targaryen. Some of you may know me by another name, Jon Snow, the bastard of Winterfell and the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch."

The riders words made Brynden widen his eyes in surprise.

"My uncle, Eddard Stark found me and my mother guarded by Ser Arthur Dayne, Ser Oswald Whent and Lord Commander Gerold Hightower. He shielded me from the ire of the whoremongering-usurper who took the Iron Throne over the blood of children and women."

"Wait! Does that mean you are…?" Lord Piper trailed off with wide eyes.

Brynden noted his fellow Riverlanders were not fairing any better. The implications were clear but still…

"I am the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark."

"Then Ned Stark lied all this time to my niece." said Brynden in shock.

"Lady Catelyn was too emotional and too volatile to be trusted with my real identity. Seeing as she got fooled by her sister and her childhood friend into starting a war that drove House Stark to near extinction, my uncle was wise in keeping his secrets from his wife." said Daeron in a bland tone.

Brynden got the feeling Daeron was not so fond of his niece. He remembered Cat speaking not so favourably of her husband's bastard especially after Robb declared his half-brother the heir to the North.

"You took the Black did you not? King Robb expected you to ride out from the Wall when you heard about your uncle's death." said Brynden keeping his gaze firmly on the face of this supposed half-Stark.

"I nearly did. My oath and a few friends kept me from deserting my post. But now, oaths do not matter much when the rest of the world cares not for honour. When guests are slaughtered under guest rights, men kill each other under banners of truce, children are poisoned to death and women are shamed, oaths mean nothing. Evil will triumph when good men refuse to act." said Daeron before drawing a sword from the scabbard. The blade sang as it cut the air keenly. The smoky ripples along its surface clearly showed it was Valyrian Steel.

Brynden watched as Daeron stabbed the sword to the ground and the dragon head pommel shined because of the red ruby sitting on the pommel.

"If oaths and honour become shackles that allow evil to thrive then those shackles must be broken. I have come here to free Riverlands from the Lannisters and Freys. I freed the North from the Boltons. The line of Flayed man has ended at the tip of my sword and Robb's death is avenged. But I'll not stop there." said Daeron and paused before he eyed the sword in his hand.

"I intend to cleanse the Riverlands of the filth that goes by the name of Frey. I intend to ride West and put every Lannister head on a spike. I intend to march to King's Landing and drive Dark Sister deep into the black heart of Cersei Lannister. I intend to break Westeros upon my knees and re-forge it in the heat of dragon flames as Aegon the Dragon did before me. This is my Conquest of the Seven Kingdoms. And I'm willing to re-enact the burning of Harrenhall if that is what is required of the Riverlords to call me your King."

That bold declaration and the implications behind those words stunned the Riverlords. For a moment, an uncomfortable silence prevailed only to be broken by Clement Piper.

"Your grace." Lord Piper was the first to bend the knee followed by the other Riverlords.

Brynden was the last remaining Riverlander to stand on his feet.

"I took the Tullys for the last." said Daeron with a roll of his eyes.

Brynden took no offence to that.

"I fought a war to dethrone a Mad Dragon." said Brynden

"You did and congratulations, you succeeded. Look where that has led you. Wolfs, stags, lions, falcons, trout or krakens can't bear the weight of the Seven Kingdoms. Even together you can't bear that weight. Dragons forged the Seven Kingdoms and only a dragon can bear the weight of these combined kingdoms. I am that Dragon."

Brynden cast one last look at the castle behind him which now proudly flew the direwolf banner. He sighed as his eyes found his nephew atop the walls before he too bent the knee.

For the sake of his family and for the sake of peace he bent the knee and declared Daeron Targaryen as his king.

*********

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