cp10

Chapter 10

I was pretty confident I was cutting quite a martial figure right about now. Standing on a hill top, wearing my best armor, banners fluttering, all the chivalry of the Riverlands clustered about me. I'm sure the real Edmure would have been quite taken with it all.

Certainly all the young Riverlords with me seemed to be in high spirits. Any number of young lords and knights had been eager for the 'honor' of being my companions and guards in the coming battle. I had Patrek Mallister, Raymun Darry, Lucas Blackwood, a small company of Freys, and a scattering of others all sworn to 'guard' me. Yet, I felt far more reassured by Bronn's stolid presence at my back than the gaggle of knights and lords who seemed weirdly giddy about the battle unfolding before us.

Mind, there was something almost detached about the whole affair at the moment. Rationally, I knew men were dying below us. But we were just distant enough from the main battle that it almost didn't seem real. It just looked like lines of banners and distant clashing sounds. I couldn't decide if that was a blessing or not, but I was nervous enough it was probably a good thing.

"Is that Clegane?" I pointed towards our right flank, where the fighting seemed particularly fierce.

Bronn squinted and then grunted an affirmative. Good. That increased my hopes that Tywin was following the same plan as he had in the books.

Young Lucas Blackwood leaned forward to peer at the battle below as well, impatience clear in every line of his body. "The Lannisters need to move faster. At this rate, Mallister and his men will have all the honors!"

I assumed he was thinking of his father on the left, far from the current battle. At my silence, Lucas pressed on. "I crave Lannister blood! This is our chance to make a name for ourselves!" Or, maybe he was just focused on his own honor, not his fathers."

"Forget honor." Patrek leaned into our conversation, a roguish grin on his face. "Think of the women! All the maidens from the Twins to the Saltpans will be cheering the heroes of the Red Fork." He shifted his eyes upwards, an angelic expression on his face. "Women, wine, feasts, and more women."

The other young lords clustered around me began to chatter and brag of the feats they would accomplish. Of the lords and knights present, only Raymun Darry remained stoic, something I was profoundly grateful for. I'd specifically chosen the older Darry to defacto lead the center. He had experience from the last war, albeit on the wrong side, and seemed a steady sort. While I was nominally leading our center, I was under no delusions as to my experience or ability.

Suddenly, Bronn leaned forward like a hunting dog on the scent. I followed his eyes and saw a commotion on the right.

"Is that…"

I squinted to try and see what as happening, only to nearly stumble forward as an excited Lucas Blackwood started pounding on my back. "They're breaking! Their whole left… They're breaking Edmure!"

Bronn shot me a meaningful look. "Mallister is giving chase."

The Lannister left did indeed appear to be falling to pieces. It certainly appeared real enough to me, even knowing it likely was a trap. I could see men throwing their weapons to the ground in order to run faster, and a general sense of chaos prevailed.

Where before every thing had seemed to be in slow motion and drawn out, now events seemed to move at warp speed. Among my own men, you could taste the excitement. Lord Darry was already galloping up and down the lines preparing the men for a charge.

Too soon though? The Lannister center hadn't wheeled around. We couldn't charge until Kevan had committed. If we weren't careful, we would fall *into* the trap by moving too fast.

"Raymun… hold…"

He ignored me, dressing his lines for a charge. I glanced at Bronn, but he wasn't going to be able to help me. No way a lord would listen to a sellsword. If I didn't take control of events, no one would. This was a very different sort of leadership from the politicking I'd engaged in before, but just as crucial.

I took a deep breath.

"Lord Darry!" I thundered as loudly as I could, and the man finally paused and turned to me.

"Edmure, we need to move fast. The Lannister left is shattering…"

"You will hold Darry. Until I give the command." I turned to face the antsy knights and men at arms. "Hold!"

He hissed at me. "Edmure…" He leaned close, face beet red. "We need to charge now before they can dress their lines. You'll lead the charge of course. But we need to go now boy."

I sent him a look. Really? He thought this was about my ego or honor? "Lord Darry. You will get the men ready. You will hold the men. You will not move a muscle out of line until I give the command. If you cannot do that, speak. And I will find someone who can."

He sneered at me. "You pup. You would doom us all!" He turned then, clearly intent on ignoring my orders.

And I snapped. Maybe it was all the tension of the last few days. All the compromising. The heat of the moment. But I'd had it.

"Bronn, if Lord Darry is incapable of following my orders, you are to relieve him of his command. Forcefully."

Raymun turned back to me at that, sheer outrage on his face. His own men-at-arms bristling behind him. But something on Bronn's face, or perhaps it was the Tully men around me with bare steel, held him back. He turned even redder, but he held his tongue. It may have been a mistake after all to make him my second.

With studied nonchalance, I turned back to the battle in front of me. Just in time to see the Lannister center completely wheel on Mallister's forces. A river of steel pivoting on a dime to charge my own men. Ready to tear into my strung out right flank, expecting to face soldiers out of line and overconfident.

For a second I held my breath. It was so fast I thought they would take Mallister by surprise after all. For half a moment, I thought the whole plan would come undone by the speed of the Lannister pivot.

But, thank god, Jason Mallister held. I even felt a flash of pride as I saw the Tully guard at the center of his line. Instead of breaking like most foot, they dug in and braced themselves. A rock against the Lannister tide lapping around them.

They were surrounded and pressured, but they were holding. Against everything Kevan or Tywin could have expected, the foot under Mallister, that should have been strung out and caught off guard, revealed themselves to be in tight formation and prepared. Eventually they would still be overwhelmed. But for now… they held. And the entire Lannister center had its back towards us as their foe refused to melt away as expected.

With a studied calm I turned back to Raymun Darry. "Lord Darry. You may call the charge." For a split second he stared at me, as though unable to believe his eyes. "Now!" I stressed

A shake of his head, and his disbelief was gone, replaced with a roar to our own men. Our horse in front, foot behind, we started to go forward. On my right side, Bronn was a silent shadow. On my left, I distinctly heard Patrek Mallister give a whoop of sheer joy.

We moved into a trot. Then a canter. I saw some Lannister lords in the center desperately trying to turn their men to face this new threat. But it wouldn't be enough. It couldn't be.

I was losing sight of the larger battle as we closed. Now we were galloping, and I heard the sound of lances snapping into place around me as the Lannister line loomed close in front of me. I hoped I kept my seat. I hoped…

We collided with a bone jarring clash. I distinctly saw my lance snap off inside some poor schlub in Lannister crimson, but I could barely process it before my momentum had swept me past him.

With the lance gone, I was fumbling for my sword, and finally managed to wrench it free. It almost felt like it didn't matter, because sheer momentum was carrying me forward. I saw men laying about with their swords around me, and it felt like we had trampled as many as we were stabbing.

The whole thing was chaos, and I was starting to lose track of who were my men and who were the Lannisters'.

Then I let out a surprised yell as my horse reared and I suddenly found myself flying off it's back.

Absently, as though from a distance, I found myself thinking 'this is why you don't let yourself get distracted in battle.' The poor horse had a couple of arrows sticking out of its' exposed flank, and was now on the ground foaming and heaving.

Thank all the gods though, the battle seemed to have moved past me somewhat. About half my guard were still with me, yelling at me with concern as I scrambled to my feet. The rest of the guard was likely either dead or swept forward in the tide of battle. But I was in a little bubble of calm.

Shakily I got to my feet, patting myself. Miraculously, I was winded but unharmed.

Suddenly, a man wearing the familiar sigil of a plowman reigned to a halt in front of me, yanking off his helmet. "Lord Edmure."

"Lord Darry." I was still feeling curiously detached.

"We're pressing them hard Edmure." A feral grin split across his face. "We've nearly split their center in half, it's a blood bath"

Bronn was at my shoulder again, disagreeing. "We're losing momentum. Stalling. We've hurt them, but they're not broken"

Darry grimaced. "If we had just a few more men we could cut their whole center in half…"

Despite myself, my mind flashed to Marq. Wherever he was. Would his men have made a difference here after all?

Darry shook his head, like a dog shaking off water. "No matter. We are still mauling them. Another push mayhaps…" He eyed me. "Lord Edmure, I owe you an apology. You were right to have me wait. I… should have trusted your plan. You timed it perfectly."

I couldn't help but feel a weird rush of pride that surged through me at that. Lord Darry was alright after all.

Suddenly Patrek Mallister was grinning at my elbow. "Yes yes. He loves you too, Lord Darry. Mayhaps we should hold on the bedding till after the battle though?"

Bronn gave a snort, and Raymun threw back his head and laughed. "Indeed. There are Lannisters still to kill. Another push and mayhaps we can split their center still… one more good push…" He eyed me. "By your leave, my Lord?"

I nodded my head, and Darry turned his horse, intent to go back into the melee. Adjusting his sword, and raising his helmet over his head.

And then suddenly, he was on the ground by my side. An arrow straight through his eye.

It was the shock of it that got me. One moment he had been joking and about to charge back into battle, and here he was dead. His face mangled, blood everywhere.

The detachment I had been holding vanished like a popped bubble, and I felt a rising tide of horror and panic swell up as the reality of events hit me. Desperately, I averted by eyes from Raymun's body and leaned over to the side, heaving my breakfast back up.

Suddenly I was shaken roughly like a rag doll. In a panic I scrambled for my sword, left on the ground somewhere. Only stopping when I saw it was Bronn who had me by the scruff of my neck, hauling me to my feet.

"Now is not the time green boy." Bronn gave me another shake, and I felt my sword being shoved back into my hand. I couldn't even be offended. I was still too shaken. "You can be sick after the battle, lordling. There's still men to kill."

I was hearing horns in the distance. Marq I thought hopefully? But Bronn was frowning. He saw my look and shook his head. Pointing.

I followed his finger. I couldn't make out much, but a swarm of Lannister banners were visible in the distance, heading towards us.

"Lannister reserves," he grunted. "Tywin's going to try and jam his lances up our bunghole. Save his brother. We won't be making any last push."

Patrek for once had no jape. He looked pale as he stood by my shoulder. "What do we do?"

Before Bronn could answer, one of the Freys in my guard took up the cry. "Brace Yourselves!"

I dimly heard someone else yelling "shield wall!"

And then Tywin's reserves were on us. Intellectually I knew there were fewer of them then there had been in the Lannister center. Or in my own command. But it felt like a wave.

They smashed through the men ahead of me, trampling Tully and Lannister indiscriminately. And then they were on us.

For a moment I felt like I was in a little safe bubble as the lords and guards around me kept the Lannisters at bay. But then I was in the thick of it.

Desperately, almost sightlessly, I was slashing around with my sword. It was chaos again. I had a split second of disbelief that battle could be this disorganized. I had pictured lots of lines and and formations. This was sheer mayhem.

I stabbed. I slashed. I felt my sword clanging off armor or biting into flesh, but rarely did I have time to even register who I was fighting let alone whether I did damage. Faces and sigils swept in front of me and were gone again almost before I could recognize them.

I saw companions join me at my side and then vanish again as the tide of battle pushed us apart. For a while there was a Frey at my side, guarding my back, and then the battle swept us apart.

I distinctly saw crazy Patrek Mallister laying about him with abandon, laughing as he slashed at the Lannisters.

And then I stumbled. Over what, god knew. And then suddenly there was a knight in front of me, sword raised. Of all absurd things there was a jester juggling suns on his armor.

"Edmure Tully! You will Yield." The knight bellowed.

I probably would have yielded if he gave me a chance, but he followed that declaration by swinging the sword down at me.

Desperately I somehow managed to intercept his sword with my own, but the force of that blow sent it flying from my hands again. And he was raising his for another strike. Almost hysterically I couldn't help but think that I was going to be killed by someone with a freaking jesteremblazoned on his chest.

And then suddenly I saw a sword sprouting out of that chest. The knight seemed almost as surprised as I was, looking down at his front in almost comical horror before slowly slumping to the side.

Bronn stepped around the fallen knight. I was trying to catch my breath to thank him, but he didn't give me a chance, hauling me roughly to my feet. Shoving my sword back into my hand. Again.

"Hold on to it this time" Bronn admonished. "I deserve a knighthood for keeping this boy alive." The last was mumbled under his breath, but I heard it distinctly. I couldn't quite tell if it was exasperation or a subtle hint. Maybe both?

No time to comment though. No time to process. No time to make a jape. Another rush of men in crimson were coming this way.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-

Wearily I leaned on my sword. The good castle steel was notched and bloody, but it made a serviceable walking stick.

With the battle finally over, I felt like I wanted to crawl into bed and not leave for a week. I'd never been so exhausted in my entire life. It had felt like the battle had gone on for days before the Lannisters finally began to disengage and retreat, but a glance at the sun showed only a couple of hours had passed.

Some of our men had gone off to chase after the Lannsiters, harrying them on their way, but I had taken the privilege of rank to stay exactly where I was.

It had the added benefit of giving a central location for my victorious lords to congregate at. And while I felt weary and bone tired, most of my lords were given off vibes of satisfaction or even elation.

"A great victory Lord Edmure!" Stevron Frey in particular had a satisfied cast to his face. For such an old man he was oddly vigorous. "You timed your strike perfectly."

"Thank you lord Stevron." I straightened my spine. No rest just yet. "House Frey fought bravely, I saw several of your knights in the battle."

He gave a satisfied nod at that. "Indeed, there is a great deal of glory to go around." A weaselly grin followed that up. "And spoils too."

Bracken heaved a sigh. "A great victory, yes. But not the war." He shook his head in frustration. "We nearly had them for good. If we'd pushed just a bit more… had a few more men…"

He trailed off before continuing. "I don't discount what you accomplished Lord Edmure. It was a great victory. But not the war. Tywin Lannister managed to retreat in good form, and Jaime Lannister still has a strong host at Riverrun."

Well. He has a host for now, I couldn't help but think. With any luck, Robb was in the process of mangling his army at Riverrun. Still, a fair point on Tywin. "Do we have a sense of how many men Tywin will still have?"

It was the gaunt Lord Roote who answered. "Too soon to say. He lost many in battle, and he will lose more in the retreat. We bloodied them well. Lannister lost two men for our one. Easily. And their center was decimated. Robert Brax, Rupert Falwell, too many knights to count. All slain"

"Prisoners too." Frey added. "That bastard Amory Lorch. Robin Moreland. We even netted a Lannister! Martyn, Lord Kevan's get." That weaselly little grin returned. "He'll bring a fine ransom."

"We don't ransom Lannisters!" Blackwood thundered, banging a mailed fist against his chest.

"We will if the price is right," Bracken countered.

"Enough!" There was no way I was going to let those two go at it. I was too tired. "Prisoners can wait. Tywin still has a host out there doing god knows what."

"Indeed." We were interrupted by a weary looking Jason Mallister joining our gathering.

I gave the man a respectful nod. I was getting the credit for this victory so far. Which was gratifying. And hell, the plan was mine. But Mallister had done the grunt work. He had executed the hardest part of the plan, and then held alone against the entire Lannister center until we relieved him. The man was a freaking rock. I owed this victory to him, and I didn't intend to forget that.

"Lord Jason. It is good to see the hero of the hour." I clapped him on the back, trying to convey that I wouldn't forget his contribution.

The man just gave a grimace, clearly disliking the praise. "House Mallister will always do its duty Lord Edmure." An awkward silence momentarily followed before he continued. "The scouts have returned. Tywin Lannister is retreating west in good order."

Bracken rubbed his chin. "He means to rejoin the Kingslayer, perhaps?"

Mallister nodded, looking relieved to have the topic shift from praise to logistics. "Like as not."

Blackwood was stamping his foot again. I knew for a fact the man had been in the thick of the battle, how the hell did he have the energy? "We can't let that happen. We need to pursue them."

Bracken was shaking his head. "The men are exhausted, we couldn't pursue further tonight even if we wish to. And Tywin will move fast. Unless we want to be reckless, we might not be able to close before he rejoins the Kingslayer. We hurt him, but he still has a strong host."

I glanced at Mallister, who gave a small shrug. "We'll have a better sense over the next few days." He glanced around the bloody field. "Lannister lost many of his best in the center though. I doubt his surviving host will be much more than 10,000 fighting men."

There was a rumble of glee from the assembled lords. It was better than I had thought if true.

"Still." Mallister continued. "A great victory, but a bloody one. We have our own losses as well. And if we push the and march too soon, we'll lose men who might otherwise recover."

I nodded. Tywin may have lost half his force, but it wouldn't shock me if we had lost a quarter of our own. It had been bloodier than I would have hoped. "Aye. We do not want to rush headlong into matters."

Stevron Frey tilted his head in consideration. "Indeed. And our northern friends are only a few days behind us. We might take the time to rest our men, and then march together to Riverrun."

"And then give the Kingslayer what we gave his father, Lord Edmure!" There was a rumble of agreement to Blackwood's declaration.

I nodded. "Agreed. We wait for the northern army to join us, and then march to Riverrun." I suspected by the time Bolton, or whoever led the northern host joined us, we would also have word of whether Robb had followed cannon and decimated Jaime's host.

I continued. "We won't take risks either." It was pleasing to see how one victory had the lords respectfully listening to my commands instead of bickering over it. They were all hanging on my words. "We'll send some scouts out. And get word to our hosts ad Harrenhall and Maidenpool."

I was about to elaborate further, when suddenly a desperate sounding horn sounded from our left. All around me the lord's heads shot up in shock and surprise.

The disturbance was coming from the west. Just beyond our camp, I could make out banners and men exiting from the nearby forested hills. Far too many to be our own scouts.

I felt a ball of lead form in my stomach as our men desperately scrambled to their feet, grasping for weapons. Knights were calling for their swords. At my side Blackwood had his blade bare, and Jason Mallister was grimly striding towards his men.

What the hell was happening? Had Tywin somehow turned around to surprise us? It almost seemed impossible to fathom after the bleeding we gave them. Was it some second Lannister host? How had the scouts missed them?

If they were here in any numbers… we weren't prepared. We would be decimated.

The lords around me were clearly having similar panicked thoughts. There was a growing sense of chaos and dread emanating from us.

Then, suddenly, Patrek Mallister, started laughing.

I turned to my friend in disbelief. He was hysterical, almost falling over.

Stevron Frey seemed to share my disbelief. "Are you mad boy? Pull yourself together, we could be under attack."

Patrek just laughed harder, pointing. I followed his finger, squinting. The enemy host was coming into clearer view. And I could almost make out their banner.

I squinted again. And then felt the tension come out of my shoulders.

Frey glanced at me for an explanation. The older man's eyesight clearly was not as good as Patrek's. But others were noticing now and also relaxing. In the camp, soldiers were putting down their swords.

Finally Frey could see it as well and gave out a snort, muttering under his breath. "And people call my father 'late'"

I laughed at that, probably more than it deserved. But relief made me giddy. The banners of the host to our west were becoming clearly visible to all. A pink, naked, dancing maiden.

Marq Piper and his men, the distraction I had meant to have hit the Lannister's in the rear, had finally arrived.

A/N: Well. That took way longer to publish than I expected guys. Sorry! A combination of my dissertation proposal distracting me, and that battle being difficult to write. Damn difficult. I'm still not fully satisfied with it, but it was time to get it out. And lesson learned. I won't make any promises on time tables for chapters!

That said, the next chapter is already written which is good. But before posting it, I've had several people urge me to do a short interlude from the Lannister perspective. I kind of like the idea. So the next chapter will be a brief Lannister POV. Either Tywin or Kevan, I haven't decided which (feel free to give some input) and then on with the regular scheduled story.