cp8

Chapter 8

I let out a low grunt as I went flying into the mud of the Red Fork yet again. This had turned into a daily habit as we marched towards the rendezvous at Lord Harroway's Town. Namely, every morning before dawn I took Bronn aside and he proceeded to beat the shit out of me in an effort to pound some basic sword skill into my head.

"Need a hand Lordling?" Bronn smirked down at me as I scrambled out of the mud. He seemed to get some perverse satisfaction out of beating me into the ground every morning.

"No. I'm good." With another grunt I heaved myself to my feet. If nothing else, Tyrion's surprising death had brought home to me that this wasn't a game or a book. Things were going to spiral out of control, and I needed to start taking things seriously.

Bronn let out a harsh laugh. "I like the attitude. You really are improving. I think you could take a seven year old… girl." Sadly, he wasn't exaggerating. I'm sure Arya would hand me my head.

At first Bronn had been surprised by my to total incompetence, now he just seemed to find it hilarious. About the only saving grace to my pride, was that we had managed to keep these lessons semi-private. There was no way to keep it truly secret in the midst of such a large camp, but from what I had overheard the men seemed to chalk my daily beatings up more to Bronn being fearsome than my own incompetence. After all, from their perspective Edmure might not be anything special with a sword, but he had never shown himself helpless.Bronn seemed to get quite a kick from his new reputation of badassery.

I gave my head a shake. "Now, see, this is why they say all sellswords lie… surely I could at least take a nine year old by now." One of the reasons I liked Bronn, was how relaxing it was to banter with someone who didn't care about my title or rank.

"Aye, maybe if the nine year old was sickly and blind to boot…" His smirking face took on a more serious cadence then. "You need to mind your footwork, is what you need. That's why you keep getting over balanced. If you want to survive in a fight, you need to do more than jab at me with the pointy end of your sword…"

He was about to continue in this vein, when we were interrupted by a messenger in Tully gear cresting the small hill hiding us from view of the rest of the camp. "Lord Edmure! Lord Edmure!"

I kept a calm face as I turned to the man, forcing down my sudden irrational fear that Tywin Lannister had somehow managed to steal a march on us. "Guardsman?"'

"Lord Edmure, outriders spotted a small party of men with banners baring a Dancing Maiden. They were escorting them to the camp…"

"Excellent!" The small knot of worry in my stomach relaxed. "I knew Marq would find his way to us." And maybe I'd get some better intelligence than panicked messages about Lannister hordes. Plus, it would just be good to see him again. Yes, I knew he was 'Edmure's' friend not mine, but still the guy had grown on me somewhat.

My eagerness turned to concern upon seeing the grim faced and grime encrusted Marq leaning wearily against his horse. He was definitely a far different sight than the jubilant young Lordling I had seen set out from Riverrun. The group of men around him seemed to echo his exhaustion. Poor Utherydes, slumped on an old nag behind Marq, looked ready to keel over.

"Marq?" A touch of wariness in my tone as I looked at his exhausted troop. "It is good to see you. What news…"

I was cut off as Marq strode over and threw an arm around me in a brotherly greeting. "Gods Edmure. It's good to see you. The Lannister's have been dogging us for weeks. Since… since…" his face suddenly crumpled up, and the manly warrior hug turned somewhat clingy if I was honest.

"Edmure…" a hoarse whisper. "That beast Clegane. He burned Pinkmaiden… Lewys. That monster, he… poor little Lew.. was still a boy. He just cut them down as a message to me." Lew, I seemed to recall, was his younger brother.

There were definite tears in Marq's eyes now as he clung to me. Poor bastard. His castle was torched. His little brother Lewys apparently killed by Clegane. We had even gotten news the week before that his father, whom I had sent with some men to help Eddard, had been killed in Cersei's little counter coup. To top it off, his best friend whom he was looking to for support was secretly an impostor.

I felt for him, I really did. Especially since I recalled that his father had survived in the books. But if I'm honest I also felt supremely awkward. You just didn't picture manly Westeros knights weeping on your shoulder in public. It might have been different if he was really my childhood friend. I felt bad… but mostly I just felt very, very uncomfortable.

"Ah…" I gave Marq an awkward supportive thump on the shoulders. I must have looked as uncomfortable as I felt, because Bronn, that bastard, was clearly fighting a smirk. "Ah… Marq. I'm so sorry. I know how much you loved Lew…" another awkward pat as he clutched at me convulsively. "I know it won't bring them back, but we'll make those Lannister bastards pay."

That finally seemed to snap Marq out of it, and with a shuddering breath he pulled himself together. If my shoulder was a little damp as he straightened himself out, well neither one of us was going to comment.

"Edmure…" his voice was only a little rough. "Tywin is only about a week's march behind us. They are making hard for Lord Harroway's Town, they know that's where we're gathering."

I waved that away. "There was no way we would be able to keep it secret."

There was now a grim caste to Marq's face as he continued. "They're burning and pillaging as they come. But worse, they have a second host under that Kingslaying bastard. They were making for Riverrun last I heard."

"Mmm. Good." Some of the men seemed surprised by that comment, but really I was happy things had not yet gone completely off the canon tracks.

"Ahh." I quickly covered for my lapse. "This shows my spies were reporting accurately. And things are going according to plan. This is exactly why we are gathering at Lord Harroway's Town and not Riverrun. Riverrun will hold until we deal with Tywin."

Marq flashed his old grin for a second at that. "You can count on us Edmure." The grin turned vicious. "We'll pay Tywin and his dogs back in kind."

There was a dry cough behind Marq, and I turned to Utherydes. "Lord Edmure. I fear we had only partial success on the mission you sent us on."

Ahh yes. In all the talk I had almost forgotten that I had sent Marq and Utherydes to try and get supplies out of the Lannister march.

At my nod, the wizened steward continued. "We were making good progress and sending supplies north of the Red Fork. Lord Marq was instrumental in convincing the local lords and knights to comply." Marq winced at that, and it took me a moment to realize he was likely used to still thinking of his father as Lord and himself as a Ser.

To fill the pause, Marq jumped in. "It was going well Edmure. But then every Lannister in the west came boiling out of the hills, and we stopped worrying about gathering supplies and started worrying about staying ahead of them.

I shook my head. "You did the best you could. Every bit you managed to get out of the Lannister's way are supplies we will have and deny to them." Marq didn't look convinced, but it was true.

Indeed, I wasn't toodispleased with how things were going so far. Despite poor Marq's family, we were ahead of where the Riverlands had been in the books. Our armies had suffered no defeats in the golden tooth passes, nor at Riverrun. Our strength was still intact, Harrenhall had not fallen, and with any luck Robb was still coming south to smash Jaime to pieces.

Did that make me too callous, that I was more focused on our geopolitical position than the real losses Marq and others were suffering due to the changes in the timeline? I didn't know, but I suppose it said something not too flattering that my worry was mostly focused on the fact that I wasn't more upset. Something to consider when I could catch my breath maybe.

Of course, my optimism only lasted until I remembered Tywin Lannister was barreling through the Riverlands straight for me. Eager to punish House Tully for Lysa's folly with Tyrion.

With that cheery thought, I straightened up and raised my voice so Marq's men could hear as well. "You have all done well. Unfortunately, we can't rest yet. We need to push on to join up with the rest of the host." With a little luck we could reach the gathering at Harroway in another day or so. "It's a lot to ask of you, but I promise you this. We'll pay these Lannister Bastards back in kind for what they are doing to our lands."

I don't know how stirring that was, but I at least got a ragged sort of cheer as the men broke in all directions to prepare for the next march.

—

I squinted as I tried to see across the river. I could make out the Frey banner, but not much else of the host being loaded on rough rafts and ferries.

In addition to my usual shadow of Bronn and a squad of guards, I had Marq and the rather melancholy Karyl Vance with me as we waited for the Freys to cross the river and join the rest of the host.

"Looks like lord Walder is on time for once." Marq joked.

Bronn's lips twisted. "Barely. Another two days and Tywin Lannister would have beaten them here."

I grunted. If nothing else, I suppose this showed that Lord Walder had been telling Cat the truth in the books. He really had been planning to send men south to help Edmure. And thanks to my not fighting at Riverrun, they were actually arriving. Still though… "how many would you say they brought?"

"Two thousand, or near enough," Bronn guessed.

I gave another grunt. I distinctly remembered from the books house Frey having four thousand men. They were definitely still hedging their bets. Still, I would take what I could get. I gave my horse a kick and trotted down the hill to meet them.

"Best make for King Adahar's Water Horse." Karyl Vance inclined his head towards the largest ferry. We'd built a slew of rough rafts and boats to ferry all my banners to the southern banks, but King Adahar's Water Horse was the original ferry of the town, and by far the largest and most comfortable way across the river. Karyl was correct in that whoever was leading the Frey host was sure to be on it.

We arrived just in time to see the Water Horse docking, and the first cluster of Freys exiting. Spotting us, three of these figures made a bee-line towards us; an older weaselly looking man, a rather fleshy fellow who was sweating profusely, and a dark haired scowling younger man bringing up the rear.

Karyl interpreted my quick side glance to him correctly, as he leaned in to quietly whisper. "Ser Stevron Frey. With Ser Ryman and his son Walder."

"Black Walder." Marq added in an undertone.

And then they were on us, and I forced a large smile onto my face. "Ser Stevron! Welcome. And congratulations to your father on his wedding." I figured that was a nice touch to add. "We are pleased to see you." I nodded a greeting to his son and to Black Walder, who only scowled harder.

Stevron may have looked like a weasel but he had a firm grip. "Lord Edmure. We are pleased to be here, and thank you for the well wishes. My father sent us south as soon as your raven reached us. We marched hard, but feared the Lannisters would beat us to you."

"No Ser, you've beaten the Lannisters here." I gave Marq a quelling look as he coughed something that sounded suspiciously like 'barely' and continued. "Tywin Lannister and his host are still two days west. We'll be able to have your men fed, watered, and rested well before they reach us."

Black Walder was scowling at Marq, but Stevron remained focused on me. "That's good to hear. But the Lannisters are almost here? Grim tidings."

I nodded. "But we're prepared. Here, if you will follow me we can break your fast in my tent." Stevron inclined his head at my offer of guest right, while Ryman got a greedy look on his face at the mention of refreshment.

We quickly marched through the camp to my tent which was pitched near the center. I could see Stevron and Black Walder carefully paying attention to the swarms of men marching back and forth with purpose. Everywhere there was work being done, palisades being raised, stakes dug into the ground, and a hum of activity.

When we were finally settled into my tent, huddled around a map laden table with the Freys tearing into their bread and salt, I continued. "As I said, Tywin Lannister is two days march west, a force of twenty thousand men with him."

"And the Kingslayer with another twelve thousand at Riverrun." That was Marq chiming in.

Karyl Vance heaved a sigh. "Almost thirty five thousand. A mighty host."

The Freys were looking a bit nervous at this, so I tried to give them a reassuring smile. "Their ambition will be their undoing though. They've split their forces, and given us a chance to defeat them piecemeal."

Stevron squinted his watery eyes at the map on the table. "And our forces? I have heard you left a strong garrison at Harrenhall and Riverrun. But with the rest of the Riverlords gathered here, we must be close to their numbers?"

"We'll match Tywin's forces at least." I gave my head a shake. "We do have a strong garrison at Riverrun, enough to hold and protect father. And two thousand at Harrenhall. With your contributions" I gave the Freys a nod "we'll be able to match Tywin's host in numbers. And we've another five thousand men at Maidenpool with Lord Mooton." The last was added as a sour aside.

Stevron hesitated a moment before offering. "Maidenpool? You fear a sortie from the capital?"

Black Walder lived up to his name and was more blunt. "Those men will be fuck-all use in Maidenpool. Why aren't they here?"

Marq must have seen the sour look on my face, because he jumped in. "They were supposed to be waiting for Lymond Goodbrook. He hired sellswords in the free cities, but they were delayed."

I still couldn't decide whether Lord Mooton was a dunce or playing some game. Yes I'd given him orders to meet with Lymond and the sellswords before coming here, but he had taken those orders ridiculously literally. When learning that Lymond and the Company of the Cat were delayed, instead of marching to join the rest of us he had hunkered down in Maidenpool with five thousand men to wait.

Five thousand men that would have been extremely useful to my host were sitting idle in the backwaters of Maidenpool. It set my teeth on edge. Either their lord was incapable of thinking for himself and adapting when circumstances changed, or he was husbanding his forces in case the Lannisters were victorious.

Stevron brought me back to the present. "And what of the other great lords? The king?"

"Which King?" Marq muttered under his breath.

I snorted despite myself. "Indeed, Marq has it right. Stannis and Renly have declared themselves king."

"Both!" Stevron clearly had not heard the news.

"Indeed. The Ravens have been flying. It's a mess. The only good news is that it means the Lannisters are unlikely to see any reinforcements from the capital or the south."

Stevron gave a weaselly little smile. "Good news indeed Lord Edmure. A chance to play them off against each other…"

I kind of liked this guy! "Exactly Ser Stevron. Though first we must survive Tywin of course. As you saw," a vague motion towards the camp, "we've been digging in. We have a strong position here, and Tywin will pay dearly trying to dislodge us."

Stevron hesitated. "It is a strong position Lord Edmure. Tywin would pay a steep price trying to take it. I saw your archers have the high ground, and those stakes will break up any calvary charge. But Tywin Lannister is no fool, he won't be reckless."

Marq chimed in. "Tywin and his dogs will have no choice but to attack us, strong position or no. Our numbers may be equal, but Edmure has prepared the field well. We will destroy them!" There was a tone of grim satisfaction in his voice as he concluded that.

Stevron still looked skeptical, and Black Walder downright disbelieving, so I decided to explain. "Marq is right, he really will have no choice." I traced my finger along the map.

"We've had no word from my sister in the Vale of Arryn." All the assembled lords at the table scowled at that.

"Your sister put us in this mess when she killed the imp. Seems to me we wouldn't have Lannisters burning our keeps but for that." Black Walder's comment made Marq scowl and his hand drift towards his sword pommel, but I knew the Frey was not alone in thinking that. I had heard more than one Riverlord complaining that the Arryn's had caused our problems by killing Tyrion, and were now leaving the Riverlands to face the Lannisters.

It was not uncommon to hear the rasher young knights throwing around a sarcastic 'high as honor' comment whenever the Vale was mentioned. Unlike what I remembered in the books, there was a great deal of simmering resentment popping up towards the Vale. While I knew the Lannisters were going to come either way, most people were seeing it as a direct reaction to Tyrion's death.

"Lady Arryn" I stressed that word "got us into this mess." Not strictly true, but I had been trying to spin this so the blame didn't land on me. "The Tullys will see the Riverlands safely through it."

Black Walder continued to glare at me until Stevron put a quelling hand on his arm and nodded for me to continue.

"In any event. While the Vale has been no use, the Starks are with us. Robb Stark leads a strong host, and we recently had word your father" I nodded at Stevron "allowed him to cross at the Twins."

Stevron managed a smile at that, and even Black Walder looked less grim. "Good news indeed Lord Edmure. We had not heard of this before we left."

"Yes. I hear he has even pledged Lord Walder to marry a Frey." Lord Walder had sent a raven bragging of that fact to me, and hinting I might do with a Frey bride as well. I just hoped this time Robb didn't end up with the Westerlings.

I waited until the Freys stopped murmuring amongst themselves about the news of their new good-brother. "But this, my lords, is why Tywin must attack. Right now we have parity of numbers, but if he waits we will have twenty thousand Northmen joining us!" Well, more like twelve if Robb split his army as in the books. But still.

Stevron stroked his chin. "I see your point. That would swing the numbers too far to our side. Lord Tywin would be forced to retreat or face annihilation. And if Renly and Stannis are in his rear… aye you may be right. He may attack."

Which was the crux of my plan. I knew I was no great shakes at generaling, but if the original Edmure had managed to defeat Tywin in a defensive engagement with half the men I had, surely I could do much the same. I'd spent the last week turning my camp into the strongest defensive position I could manage. Despite the uncertainty, and the nagging worry that I was in over my head, I couldn't help but feel pleased with events.

I let a wolfish smile cross my face. "Exactly. We're dug in, but Tywin has no choice! He will have to attack, and when he does…"

I trailed off. From the feral grins and the looks of anticipation, I didn't need to say anymore.

A/N: Well, sorry for the long wait guys! Summer is crazy for me, and I have been distracted. That said, I should hopefully be able to get back to updating this once a week or so. I actually have the whole thing plotted out beginning to end (though I find it sometimes takes longer than I expected to get from point A to point B), so hopefully I'll be able to post a few chapters in the coming weeks.