Chapter 8: Chapter VIII – Kingship

 

It was over quick and fast.

Despite the fact the Lannister host still besieging Riverrun numbered over twelve thousand men, the very positioning of Riverrun meant that a commander had to split their force into three. Because of this, four thousand men were positioned north of the Tumblestone. Another four thousand were positioned south of the Tumblestone and west of the Red Fork while the final four thousand were positioned east of the Red Fork.

Under the command of Ser Brynden Tully, one thousand men descended on the sleeping and leaderless camp in the dead of night. Despite it being a day since the Battle of the Whispering Wood, all Lannister scouts and outriders had been eliminated meaning that the enemy was completely unaware of the capture of Jamie Lannister and the eradication of their cavalry force.

As a result, Ser Brynden Blackfish made short work of the unaware enemy camp.

They quickly cleared the enemy palisades and dealt with any sentries before going on to kill the men in the camp. This had not gone unnoticed by the other two camps, the one south of the Tumblestone led by Andros Brax quickly ordered a thousand of his men to cross the Tumblestone. Along the way he was harried by archers along the Riverrun walls, Tytos Blackwood ordering them to fire on the Lannister's exposed flanks. However, Andros Brax would not be deterred as he ordered his men onto rafts that were pelted by thrown rocks by the soldiers of Riverrun.

It was disastrous.

The choppy waters of the Tumblestone overturned the rafts. The men with their heavy armour either drowned or were killed by archer fire both from the walls of Riverrun or by the archer's Ser Brynden had lined on the bank. It was here that Lord Andros Brax met his end.

However, there were still around three thousand men left in the camp and Robb descended upon them with his cavalry. Tytos Blackwood in turn led his garrison force of five hundred out of the gate and struck the Lannister host from the rear.

All the while Ser Forley Prester watched on from the eastern bank.

As the northern camp was destroyed and the western camp was all but overrun, he ordered his four thousand men to retreat back into the Westerlands.

Now Robb sat in the Godswood of Riverrun, sharpening his blade while leaning against the Weirwood tree, his mind alight with questions once more. At his side, Grey Wind lay down on the ground, eyes closed as it let itself rest.

'King Robb.' He snorted at the title his men had given him. 'How could they proclaim me King in the North before my father?' He wondered in thought, questioning the sense of his men, or lack thereof. 'Don't they believe that he is alive?' The answer to that was simple, no, they did not. It had been many weeks since they had received that letter, by the time it would have reached them, his father would have been taken from Kings Landing, days before that. More news should have come through about his father's whereabouts or at least something to show that he was alive and well.

But there had been nothing and many of the lords of the North had begun to raise their agreements with Ser Brynden Blackfish. The common consensus was that the Lannisters had messed up and gotten Eddard Stark killed and were trying to cover up their mistake as best as they could. To the lords of the North, Eddard Stark was dead and now he was the new Lord of House Stark.

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Gripping the handle of his blade, Robb raised it up to his eyes and looked at himself along the flat edge. He barely recognised himself, his beard had grown and he looked less like a boy and more like a man. He felt like one too, the two battles he had fought seemed to have aged him, the weight of the guilt he bore at sending men into battle and dying on his orders was heavy. He wondered if it would ever get easier or if would it constantly weigh upon him like this.

"Robb?" Looking up, he saw his mother entering the Godswood, Ser Brynden and his uncle Edmure trailing behind him. The sight of his uncle reminded him that he was not just the King in the North, but the King of the Trident as well. It had been Jason Mallister soon followed by Tytos Blackwood who had proclaimed him as such.

'I don't know whether to be glad or angered to have earned the respect of both men to such an extent that they wish me to be King.' He had tried to refuse of course, on both accounts. However, his bannermen didn't listen, too drunk on both wine and victory. The cheers of, "The King in the North" and, "The King of the Trident" had spread throughout Riverrun, echoing across the surrounding lands into the army camped outside.

Now here he was, sitting in the Godswood deep in thought, seeking the guidance of the Old Gods. He couldn't tell if they approved of his bannermen's actions or were disapproving of them. Despite hearing them more often, he could never tell what they felt or thought. They were mysterious in their desires, providing only bits of information but never enough. It was just like the visions he had been given back in Winterfell, only parts of the whole truth.

"You can not remain here forever, the lords are asking for you. They wish to discuss what you plan to do next." Catelyn said and Robb frowned.

"Are you okay with this? Okay with me being named king? It's like admitting that they're…" He paused unable to finish the sentence. Catelyn moved forwards and took one of his hands in hers.

"Robb." She muttered softly, bringing her son into a hug that he returned. "Of course, I don't want you to be King, it puts a bigger target on your back. This war is no longer just about rescuing your father and sisters, but for independence. But…it's been weeks and there's no sign of either your father or sisters, I do not blame the noblemen for growing doubtful."

Robb nodded his head, pulling away from his mother before looking to Edmure and Brynden. "I apologise, uncle, great-uncle for my actions."

"Don't worry, nephew. I apologise for Lord Mallister and Blackwood, I think they got a little overeager and had too much to drink." Edmure said.

Brynden just grunted, he didn't blame the lad for being overwhelmed. "No, they knew full well what they were doing. Overheard them talking about it as soon as we freed Riverrun. Lord Mallister was even talking about it in whispers with Lord Umber at the end of the Whispering Woods. Don't blame them honestly. An army like ours needs a figurehead, a symbol to rally behind, nothing better than a King." Brynden gruffly explained and Robb appreciated that the man was never afraid to tell him the truth.

"Well, it seems I have no choice," Robb admitted with a sigh, he could see the sense in the decision to name him King. It didn't mean he had to like it though, but he'd certainly use it to his advantage. If what Brynden said was true and he was inclined to believe it was, then being King could help him end this war sooner by uniting everyone under him. He just hoped it didn't come back to bite him in the ass.

"The question remains, what do we do if Ned returns?" Catalyst asked. "Robb can't be Lord of Winterfell if Ned is alive, just like he can't be King."

There was silence from the three men as they considered Catelyn's words. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Robb said firmly. Right now they needed to focus their efforts on ending this war and finding his father and sisters. The lords may have named him King, but it was up to him whether he accepted it or not. For now, he would use his position to gain whatever advantages he could get, but afterwards, who knows?

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