Chapter XVIII
As the Birds Fly
Days before Lord Greystark met his match against Lord Royce, Ramsay Fireblood, Lord of Torrhen´s Square had finally reached Seagard; the ancient seat of House Mallister, it had been subdued by the Falcon´s Claws early in the war; as most of the Arryn´s force in the Riverlands had been diverted towards Royce´s host, he found the castle´s garrison almost depleted.
The Knight of Ninestars, Symond Templeton had remained behind to keep the fords over the Green River from falling into Northmen hands, but he knew he was badly outnumbered, Royce´s son had fallen a few days prior with most of his army, and the rivermen had proven fickle as always, near to half of their levies had turned their cloak against the Arryns and there were a hundred bands and parties raiding the Arryns all the way from Oldstones to the God´s Eye. And the Ironborn had decided to turn up as well, Cape Kraken had not gained that name for nothing, and for the past fortnight Lord Greyjoy and Lord Goodbrother had sent scores of longships to pressure the coast and even they had attempted to lay siege to Seagard.
It was after driving the raiders from Pyke back to the sea that Ramsay fell upon him.
Caught outside his walls and too far to reach them without being run down by Ramsay´s horse, he knew there was only one choice, to try and hold and send word to Lord Royce that the Flayed Men were now deep into the Riverlands.
He picked out his riders, nimble men with fast horses, with instructions to ride hard towards Royce´s host, to the King back in the God´s Eye and to the Bloody Gate, the Vale was in peril and he hoped their armies could be mustered in time. With a grim look he ordered his men into position, trusting in his pikemen to hold the line as long as they could.
Knowing he held the ground and the numbers Ramsay rode out with his men to overwhelm and harass Templeton´s rear, his own infantry bolstered by the levies from Flint´s Finger would hold the centre against the diminished Arryn battleline.
The battle was fast and brutal, the Arryns held themselves well but the numbers were far too lopsided, gathering his last knights, the Knight of Ninestars plunged his horse into a fist of steel to break the Boltons
But the line of spear and shield of the North kept their ground, and the charge lost momentum and was cut down to the man, Ramsay picked out the last stragglers before the sun set.
Falcon banners and silver moons, and black stars littered the field, Seagard could be seen in the distance and Ramsay pressed his advantage, when the remaining men atop the walls saw the Flayed Man of the Dreadfort they quickly surrendered the keep to the Boltons. It was a group of rivermen that received Ramsay and his entourage as they crossed Seagard´s moat.
“Well met, my Lord.” Their leader said, bowing his head towards Ramsay. “We must thank you for ridding us from the Falcons.”
“Thanks are not needed in war.” Ramsay said as he dismounted. “But I welcome it, we have battled through three hard fought battles, my men need the rest.”
“Seagard is yours my Lord.” The man, who was named Bowen said as they made their way across the court.
“I take it that the Talon…culled the Mallisters?” Ramsay asked, not without some measure of compassion.
“Aye, my Lord. Lord Patrek fell with the Hammer of Justice and lord Maron fell when Corbray took these walls.” Bowen said, a sad tone in his voice. “And most of our men were pressured into battle, against our own folk!” He spat on the grounds. “Curse those Arryns and their Vale!”
“Well, then I hope we can bring you some small comfort, my brother, the King in the North has brought Fire and Blood to the heart of the Vale.” Ramsay said. “Your people shall join our Kingdom, if you´d like, we shall take only volunteers and there shall be gold for your food and roof.”
In months past, Lord Ramsay would not have hesitated to put the castle to the sword, but his brother had ordered him to show restraint or the rivermen would harry him just as they had done with Oswyn Arryn.
“Thank you my Lord.” Bowen said. “There are no more Mudds if the tales from Oldstones are true, and Corbray and Royce killed Lord Bracken and Blackwood, the Kingdom of Rivers and Hills is no more.”
“It may be far away, but only the North can fight in Winter and Snows.” Ramsay said. “Join us and I shall bring justice to your folk, rid the Trident from their presence and avenge your King.”
Ramsay´s force had grown with the levies of rivermen that filled it´s ranks, young boys that had been forced by the Arryns into battle now took spear and sword willingly to reclaim their land. Rain mixed with snow had fallen upon the lands of the Trident for the last three days, and news were hard to come by, but a rider from the Green Fork had reached Seagard and Ramsay learned of Greystark´s victory against Royce, the news of the Lord of Runestone´s death gave cheer to the smallfolk of the castle.
Ramsay had also learned that the Lannisters had indeed pushed back against Oswyn and his host had been broken in the Golden Tooth, first he had fled into Riverrun but Lord Serrett and Westerling soon pressured the castle and Oswyn was forced to flee by boat down the Red Fork, and was rumoured to be hiding in the once great Keep of House Darry, near the God´s Eye.
It seemed that the power of the Vale upon the Trident was broken, but the rivermen were adamant in reclaiming Oldstones, the ancient seat of House Mudd, where the Hammer of Justice had fought it´s last battle. And Ramsay knew that he had to keep the rivermen on his side and so when the rains had calmed for a while he set out towards the fallen castle.
Oldstones had been called so since eons ago, once it had been a stronghold of the Children of the Forest or so the scions of House Mudd claimed, it had been on pair with Moat Cailin once, and for centuries it could have been considered a ruin, a shadow of it´s past; ever since the First Men had crossed the Arm of Dorne and brought iron and fire to Westeros. after years of war the great fortress had been taken, but even as a ruin it was far larger and stronger than any other castle in Westeros at the time, and since then those that had dared to lay claim to the Crown of the Trident had sought Oldstones as their seat of power. And so it had been for centuries, House Mudd had held sway over all the riverlands from the Broken Chair of Oldstones until the Arryns had flown down from the mountains.
Oldstones sat right at the north edge of the Tumblestone, the river was still running fast and strong and in some places had overflowed its banks. Bowen had joined Ramsay´s host, along with a hundred boys from Seagard, and all along the march dozens and scores of rivermen had joined them, with pitch and spear and even nets as weapons. The tale of the Revenge of the North had flown across the Trident and men were flocking to their banners even if it meant bending the knee to the Flayed Man, in their eyes King Domeric had come down to flay and skin the Arryns in their nests.
The great castle was built of a heavy, shiny black stone, tumbled over and cracked in some places, some of it´s towers had been torn asunder by an ancient force and most of it´s halls were without roof. But the inhabited part was heavily reinforced, there had been no catapult ever built that could put a dent in it´s walls and it´s main gate could withstand any battering ram, it had been by night and by treachery that the castle had fell to Royce and his men.
“Not more than 300 men remain inside my Lord.” Rem, one of Bowen´s men said to Ramsay. “Ill equipped and leaderless.”
“Three hundred men in such a castle could wreak havoc among us.” Ramsay said. He had been awed by the sheer size of the fortress, at it´s prime it must have been larger than Winterfell, Godswood and all included. “Does anyone know of any hidden way in?” He asked.
“The river gate.” Bowen said. “Southern face of the castle, a carved tunnel goes right down to the Tumblestone, it´s small and certainly flooded with rains, but I daresay no one is watching it, it leads right to the main courtyard.”
“How long is this tunnel?” Ramsay asked.
“Perhaps half a mile long, perhaps more.” Bowen answered.
“What say you lot?” He asked to the men beside him. “Any of you care to go for a swim?”
More than fifty volunteers stepped forward, as rivermen, they were strong swimmers and not afraid of drowning.
“You know this better than I do.” Ramsay said. “You can not be burdened by steel or leather, and only a knife or a net shall be your weapons, but I know that you will deliver us that gate, go! For Oldstones! And for Arryn´s blood!”
It had been a tense two hours, as the moon raised in the east, the forest and the castle kept silent, a few torches dancing a top the Main Gate. At last, some of the torches fell down, a few muffled cries of alarm and the slow creaking of the doors as they opened forward.
The army cheered as they surged forth and raced to gain the gates. Ramsay rode in with his riders, his rivermen were dancing around the Arryn knights, snaring them in their nets and stabbing them with knife and trident. Ramsay dismounted and threw himself into the fray, Bowen and his men close behind him.
The battle did not last long, and soon the last of the Arryns had been thrown into the river. Bowen and his men celebrated and cheered into the night. Their King and their Old Gods had been avenged.
“Oswyn Arryn is still at large. And the Eyrie still stands.” Ramsay said. “Will your people join our banner? Bow before our King?”
“Your Red King does aspire to greatness.” Bowen said with a smile. “The North, the Vale and the Trident? No King has ever laid claim to such a vast land and to so many people. And yet he is making it happen. I can´t speak for all the other castles and Houses in the Riverlands but my sword and the swords of my men are yours my Lord.”
Back in the Vale the Red King had left Heart´s Home with more men behind him than he had when he landed on the Fingers, remnants and scions of the First Men, driven into the deepest forests and the tallest ravines by the Arryns they had become more and more isolated over the centuries, old Houses turning into clansmen and raiders, but now the cold winds were rising and these men, who had been deemed barbarians by the conquering Andals had come forth to pledge their allegiance to their new King.
And where some might have assumed that the Valemen would throw every able men into his path, the Red King had found more allies than foes as he made way into the Eyrie, a top the Giant´s Lance; news reached him of rebellion and strife all over the Vale, the clansmen of old had come forward from their hidden keeps and had brought blood and flame to the Knights of the Vale, Gulltown´s fleet had been burned at anchor, Runestone was surrounded by the Stone Crows, Lady Waynwood had been ambushed with all her sons as they attempted to muster their men into action, the Bloody Gate had been blockaded by debris, rock and wood thrown together by the Moon Brothers. The Andals had thought of the clansmen as a mere nuisance since the Conquest, but the crows had come home and they were pecking at the Falcon´s holdings with a vengeance.
Lord Lyonel´s “betrayal” had sown doubt into some of the Vale Lords, and House Hunter, Belmore and Templeton and some others had decided to hold to their own castles and retain their men to their walls, willing to see who would come out on top when the snows had settled
It was so that Domeric reached the Gates of the Moon at the foot of the Giant´s Lance, the winter seat of House Arryn and a strong castle in its own right yet nowhere near as impregnable as the Eyrie. In the past few days and weeks the Arryn´s court had gradually moved down from their peaks to the Vale floor below, and inside the castle walls now resided Oswyn´s Queen and his two daughters. Its granaries and cellars were sure to be filled with the reserves for winter, so a siege would not be forthcoming. Domeric intended to seize the castle with its precious occupants and force the Vale into submission, the wavering loyalty of some of it´s lords gave him notion that they were looking to strike a deal after the end of the war.
“I knew the Gates were strong, but I did not know that its wall was quite so tall.” The King said to Lord Corbray as his forces made camp before the castle, it´s ramparts flying the Blue and White of House Arryn along a string of grey and black banners. “Whose banners are those?”
“Those are the candles of Lord Waxley.” Lord Lyonel said. “Light in the Darkness indeed.” He said spitting to the ground. “A man of six and sixty winters.”
“I can see why you took offense at your father´s demotion.” The King said. “I was hoping to have crossed paths with Lord Redfort by now.”
“He still could fall upon us.” Corbray surmised looking around. “This is a plain field, with no strong position to hold, besides the Gates of course.”
“Our camp shall be fortified.” Domeric said, he turned to one of his new followers, Duma of the Night Stalkers. “I want your men to scout for Lord Redfort, I wont be caught by surprise, not when we are so close. While we wait, send an envoy to the castle.” He said to one of his captains. “It may be that Lady Arryn sees reason and surrenders herself to me.”
It had seemed at first that the Queen would not lower herself to parlay with him, but as the sun set, the Gates creaked open, a stream of knights poured forward, bearing the banners of Lord Waxley and of the Arryns. Lord Edmund riding besides the Queen, Lady Meera Arryn.
Lord Corbray joined the King as they met the Queen´s entourage in neutral ground.
“My Queen.” Said Lord Lyonel, bowing before Lady Meera.
He was met with an humourless laugh. “Am I still? Your Queen? It seems like you have taken a new master.” He turned to Domeric. “You should know my Lord, this one is quite fickle, if he tells you the snow is white, he is lying.”
“I should take your head where you stand, traitor!” Cried Lord Waxley.
“Please my dear Lord, do try. My Lady has quite a thirst.” Lyonel said with a cold smile.
“Your Grace.” The King said with a slight nod of his head. “I trust you see that your position is desperate.”
“What I see is an army of savages, raiders, and infidels.” The Queen said. “Soon to perish before my walls.”
“It seems that the latest news haven’t reached you my Lady.” Domeric said. “Most of your Lords have deserted your cause, Runestone and Gulltown are surrounded. Lord Royce died on the field of battle and your King is in full retreat back East, but I swear to you he shall never reach the Vale. Your House´s rule is over.”
“And my son has fallen as well, I know.” The Queen said with a grim smile. “But yet my King and husband still lives and he will rid the Vale of your presence.”
“Only if he can reach me my Lady, and the lions have bled him twice on the field already. There is no way back up here, my men hold the rivers and if he tries to march back east it will be his undoing.” The King pointed to the Castle behind her. “I seem to recall you have two daughters still, surrender your castle and crown and I swear no harm will come to them.”
“And if I resist you shall take their lives?” The Queen asked. “I gathered as much, my Gates are strong, and my Lord of Redfort still keeps his faith.”
“Ah yes, the Red Hammer.” Lord Corbray said. “We had thought he would be waiting for us here. It seems lord Redfort is late in coming to your rescue.”
For a second Queen Meera´s expression faltered. “When he arrives he shall bring me your heads. As a gift”
King Domeric nodded, there would be no surrender. “Perhaps when your husband does reach the Vale I shall have a gift for him. The skins of his daughters to keep him warm in the cold.”
Domeric´s plan relied on the Red Hammer coming to him, to do battle or to swear fealty; only the Gods knew, but Lord Redfort had to come forth before the Red King. If Domeric stormed the Gates of the Moon and took lady Arryn and her daughters as hostages, all of the Vale would rally to Redfort to release their Queen, worse if he slayed them the retaliation might be even worse and any chance of bringing the Vale into the fold would be burnt to cinders.
No, Redfort had to be complicit and turn his cloak before the Gates of the Moon fell, to forsake the Arryns before Winter closed off the High Road. After cold days and even colder nights, the Burned Men reported to the King that Hugh Redfort, the Red Hammer had come forth from his keep with seven thousand men with him, remnants of house Royce and Grafton, Belmore and Waynwood, had put together this last army to expel the northmen from their lands.
Domeric gave a sigh of relief, there were almost other five thousand men in the Bloody Gate, but the clansmen had brought down rocks, timber and boulders to block their way back into the Vale and had managed to bleed their commander: the last scion of House Hunter. But seven thousand still outnumbered Domeric by a slight margin, so he instructed his clans to harass him as they only knew how, by night and with flame, with speed and fury.
Snows kept pouring down from the heavens, the northmen and clansmen were of course far more suited for this kind of warfare, but still an army could not wait out a large siege in the snows.
“To meet us, Redfort needs to march straight to us, he won´t be able to hide, he needs his Queen to see him so that she can send whatever men she has behind her walls.” He said as he inspected the perimeter with Lord Corbray. “Our camp is well defended, the clans surround him even if he doesn´t know it yet and when we beat him, the Vale shall be ours.”
“And what makes you so certain that he shall come to your side?” Corbray asked as he saw men sharpening stakes and fletching arrows.
“He keeps to the Old Gods.” Domeric said. “When he sees that we can reconcile the clansmen with the Vale, and open our faith to all, while the kneelers keep their seven gods, when he understands that the Arryns brought war into this land and that the North just defended itself, when he sees that he could be the only reliable guardian of the last daughter of Oswyn Arryn.” The King shrugged. “I trust that he will see reason.”
“You intend for the Arryns to live on?” Corbray asked. “I had expected far more from you, the tales they tell…”
“The tales are true my Lord, but in the North the last Starks are under strict surveillance with my son as guardian. Oswyn and his son´s life are forfeit, that’s certain, but the Vale shall accept Lord Redfort far more readily if he has a young falcon in his cage.” The King said.
Corbray laughed. “As long as you keep your word to me your Grace, you wont have trouble from me in accepting this Lord Redfort as my new liege.”
It took other five days over heavy snows for the Red Hammer to arrive.
The Red Hammer offered battle as soon as he arrived, close to seven thousand strong, diminished by the clans, and made mostly of peasant levies, but with a core of strong knights at it´s centre.
At dawn, the Red King saw the Arryn host unfurl in front of him, the trumpets from the Gates of the Moon greeting their arrival and without a doubt Lord Waxley was readying his host to march upon the northmen.
“Send riders to Lord Redfort, let´s hope we can avoid some bloodshed.” The King instructed to his sergeants.
“Small chance of that.” Lord Corbray said as he honed his blade. “My Lady Forlorn will quench its thirst before the sun reaches it´s peak.”
A small cadre of riders poured forth from both hosts, the banners of the Flayed Man and the ravens of House Corbray on one side and the Red Castle of the Redforts and the Moon and Falcon of House Arryn on the other.
About ten paces from each other the King spurred his horse forward to deliver his terms.
“Lord Redfort.” He greeted him. “You have kept me waiting for far too long, I was expecting you sooner.”
“Do you like the sight my Lord?” Redfort said, his personal hammer that gave him his nickname could be seen poking from his back. “Do you wish to surrender? My King will allow you to leave in peace if you leave this traitor in my care.”
Lyonel Corbray snickered at the veiled threat. “We were actually hoping for your surrender Lord Hugh, the war is over, the Talon has been plucked of his feathers and his men. House Royce is no more, and the Bloody Gate is closed.”
Hugh spat on the floor. “My Hammer shall be red with your blood Corbray, we always knew you were a fickle traitor.”
“Yes.” Corbray said. “I always planned to turn my cloak, I only gained the King two castles and saved his live only three times in the riverlands. Only a blind man or a far more sadistic man than I would continue the war at this time. Winter has come, and the Arryns wont survive it.”
“My Queen still lives, and her daughters.” Redfort countered. “And the Vale shall rise to defend them.”
“I guess the Vale now excludes House Waynwood, Belmore, Templeton and others.” Domeric said. “I know for a fact that they remain in their castles. Lord Grafton, even though Gulltown is not under siege has remained behind his walls. No one wishes to fight for the losing side.”
The King looked behind him, pointing at the clansmen that rode with him, mostly Burned Men and Moon Brothers.
“The old clans are with me, their blood and kin the same as mine, and your own my Lord.” Domeric continued. “We share the same Gods, my men have told me that there are new heart trees sprouting in the forests were for ages past there had been none. I aim to reconcile the Vale with the Old Gods, no longer shall they be pursued by their beliefs, my subjects shall keep whatever Gods they chose to kneel to.”
At that the Burned Men let out a cheer, chanting Domeric´s name. The King could see the doubt seeping into Lord Redfort´s eyes.
“The Arryns brought war into our lands, for close to five hundred years your Kings have attempted to march north to breach the Moat, for decades the Wolf´s Den has been at risk from your fleets. Oswyn Arryn invaded the Trident without provocation and ended House Mudd, that claimed its lineage since the First Men of old. We have defended ourselves and now Winter has come for House Arryn.” The King said with a vibrant voice.
“We have all sworn oaths.” Redfort said, looking for a second at Lord Corbray. “My oath compels me to defend my Queen, my own wife…”
“Is an Arryn yes.” The King cut across him. “From the lower branches, but still an Arryn, all the better. Battle will only leave blood upon the snow and I am certain of my victory. If I am forced to take that castle by storm I shall leave no survivors; however if there was a man, who kept to the Old Gods, who was a proven battle commander and that would swear to keep and guard the last of the Arryns in his care, a man that I could trust to rule the Vale in my name…”
“What you are proposing…” Redfort said, with just the slightest hint of ambition in his eyes. “No, you will not triumph on this field, we have the numbers.”
The King shrugged. “Perhaps, but if I happen to win, I trust that you gave my proposal further thought.”
“If its war you want my lord, you shall have it.” Lord Corbray said drawing his blade.
With that the meeting was over, and the armies marched into position.
“I am not sure if I can trust you to battle Lord Redfort and leave him alive.” The King said to Corbray.
Lyonel only laughed in response.
“You shall command of the rearguard, keep that old Waxley off my back and bring me his head when the battle is done.” Domeric said as his men formed up beside him.
“A small prize, but you shall have it my King.” Corbray said as he rode off to gather his men.
Lord Redfort brought his army forward and soon battle was joined.
The King in the North had the ground and the advantage, Lord Redfort had to march towards him in order to liberate the Arryns and stakes and pits had been set across the field in front of the Bolton´s lines. The King only needed to wait and hold his ground while the enemy crawled towards his position. Still, he was outnumbered, but he counted on his clansmen to harry Redfort´s rear and flanks.
Lord Redfort, the Red Hammer, surveyed the field from a top his horse, his armour, made of red steel glinted in the sun, he could see from afar Lord Waxley´s men getting ready to sally forth, even from his position he could spot the King´s position, his army was set in good order and full of battle hardened veterans; while most of his men were green boys from the fields.
As his forces advanced it was clear that the field was littered with traps and hidden perils, forcing his men to keep together and hemmed them towards the centre, where Bolton´s shield wall stood the strongest. All the while the northern bowmen began to pick their targets and set loose volley after volley against the Valemen.
The Red Hammer send forth his own archers to counter the North´s volleys with his own. Then from the flanks came the Burned Men and the King´s own guard, riding hard to take the Redfort´s archers in their rear.
As the men advanced, the archers of the Vale withdrew further so that their own knights could join the fray. In the front line both armies clashed with an icy clash, it was hard going for the Arryns, still under fire and marching up a slope to meet the enemy´s spears and swords. The men from the Dreadfort stood firm under pressure and their experience began to show.
On the flanks the men from the Redfort were beginning to crumble as the Burned Men on the right and the Moon Brothers on the left kept hacking away at them. Chipping away their numbers and keeping them from forming up as they rode back and forth constantly between their lines.
Hindered by the snows and the pit traps the Knights from the Vale had been slow to bring up the rear, but at last the Red Horn sounded across the field as Hug Redfort and his knights thundered to meet the clansmen.
The knights of the Vale had failed against the shield and spear walls from the North, however now they have caught up the clansmen, their enemies of old, and they were far better trained and equipped; and their training put them way above the men from the Mountains of the Moon.
The King himself had to ride towards the field to save his left flank, dangerously close to buckling under the steel fist of the Hammer´s charge, drawing Flesh Eater he cut through the Arryn lines looking for Hugh in the thick of the melee.
The Red Hammer found him first however as he felt his shield arm splintering under the weight of the heavy hammer of Hugh the Red. With a cry of pain he turned around to meet his foe, his sword finding the Red´s armour many times but failing to pierce it. Hugh trusted in his armour for protection, as he wore no shield to better wield his weapon of choice, he whirled his hammer with both hands and drove it hard against the King in an horizontal arc. Domeric ducked under the blow, but lost his balance on the saddle and fell to the ground. The Knights and clansmen kept fighting around them. Hugh the Red dismounted to meet his foe.
“A true knight, even to the last my Lord.” The King said as he recovered his stance and holding his sword with his right arm, his left arm kept close to his chest.
“The last?” Hugh asked. “You are mistaken my Lord, you are wounded.”
“That may be, but the field seems to be mine.” The King said as he circled his foe. “I hear my horns across the battle line, and I hear your own men crying for mercy, your knights may take this flank, but the battle is over.”
“If you die…” The Red Hammer said as he feinted with his weapon, the King keeping himself out of reach. “The war is over.”
“And you save your Queen, perhaps.” Domeric said, panting, his arm felt like it was on fire. “But there is no accounting for Lord Corbray and for the Clans. The fire that has spread through the Vale can not be stopped, I hear that there are weirwoods taking root where there had been none for centuries. The Old Gods will have their due.”
Hugh hesitated for just a second, he had heard the same rumours, and even his own heart tree, back in the Redfort had produced more of it´s red sap, enough to produce a small lake of red around it.
“However if you surrender now, you shall keep your Princess, as a ward, and have all the Valemen, both those of the Seven and those of the forest under your rule. Hugh Redfort! Lord of the Vale!” Domeric said as he parried another of Hugh´s blows.
Hugh kept pushing forward with his attack, Domeric barely keeping out of reach and deflecting whatever blows he could. For the King seemed like an eternity but it was not even two minutes, but as he ran out of breath and falling over some dead man he awaited for the Hammer´s blow, never coming. As he regained his feet he saw his men all around him, the Bloody Company bringing the broken banners of House Arryn, House Redfort and House Waxley before Lord Hugh.
“It seems you were right my Lord.” The Red Hammer said, as he put his weapon to the ground. “The field is yours.”
“And now I wonder.” The King said, sheathing his blade. “What will you do my Lord? Will you force my hand to deliver lady Arryn a grim message, or shall you put and end to this war?”
Hugh Redfort sighed as he took off his helm, his red mane flowing down his shoulders, and not even the King could help but think: “Now, there´s a man worth killing.”
He stared at Redfort as the man thought over his next move, but everyone already knew what he would do next.
Afterwards, the King received Lord Corbray on his pavilion. Lady Forlorn was weeping blood into the snow, and Lord Lyonel had a mocking smirk on his face.
“The head I promised you, your Grace.” He said taking a bow at the entrance and tossing lord Waxley´s head at the King´s feet.
“I take it he was not much of a challenge.” The King said as one of the healers from the clans was setting his broken arm in place.
“The Red Hammer did that?” Corbray asked with a snarl. “Where is he?” He said looking for the man as he sat down and poured wine into a cup.
“In another tent, he surrendered when he saw the battle was over.” The King said, grimacing in pain. “I am letting him grasp the finer details of the situation at hand.” He let out a sharp hiss as the clanswoman popped his arm into place.
“Lord Waxley at least died like a man, leading his men into the fray.” Corbray reported as he drank. “Still, they were outflanked by the Stone Crows and I took his head with my Lady. Some dozens crawled back into the Castle.”
“Now it is for Lord Redfort to deliver us the Vale.” Domeric said as he gestured for a jar of mulled wine. “He is a true warrior that one.”
“You get what you see with him, strength, discipline, and a strange sense of honour.” Lyonel said.
“Strange?” the King asked.
“It has to be strange to allow him to deliver his Queen into your grasp.” Corbray said laughing.
As the sun was passing down into the west behind the Mountains of the Moon finally Lord Redfort requested audience with the King.
“Lord Hugh.” The King said as he stood up to greet him.
“My Lord.” Redfort said as he looked at the King´s arm. “I trust that your arm will heal.”
“I hope so as well.” Domeric said with a smile. “That’s quite a hammer you have.”
“I will send for my maester.” Hugh said, uncomfortable. “When this is over.”
“And how will it end Hugh?” Corbray asked. “How shall we proceed?”
“You must realize what you are asking of me.” Redfort said. “The Queen, and her daughters.”
“I know what I am asking.” The King said. “I had to rise in rebellion against my King as well, when I discovered how he had betrayed the North. The Starks betrayed us all, and the Old Gods had their fill of their blood, and still, I have two Stark pups under my son´s care in Winterfell.”
The King stopped for a second as he measured his words.
“The Vale and Winterfell have been at war for half a millenia, the Talon ravaged the Riverlands without provocation and killed many Lords of houses great and small. His ambition was beyond measure, we defended ourselves, and the King of the Rock did so as well.” The King surmised. “All the tragedies of house Arryn can be traced back to him, and now winter has come; if the valemen are willing to endure the rule of House Arryn they are not as smart as I hope them to be.”
“The war is lost, Redfort.” Corbray said. “Not in five thousand years had an enemy invaded the Vale, the Arryns have failed us, the Old King was killed by the Talon, I know, I know, there is no definite proof.” He said as Hugh had begun to protest. “And both he and Lyn have been beaten by the Lions and a bunch of girls cant rule the Vale.”
“And you hope to claim the bones Corbray?” Hugh asked, defiant of all of a sudden.
“No, it must be you.” The King said. “I intend you to rule the Vale in my name, under certain terms.”
Hugh Redfort looked long and hard at him, but he already knew what was going to be asked of him.
“Your wife is an Arryn, your children shall rule the Vale after you, so the line can continue, Queen Meera´s life is forfeit, I admit that we have no certain whereabouts of Oswyn and his son, but whatever piece of their forces that remain is retreating back east.” The King explained. “And soon, they shall be tried by their crimes, the riverlords are a quarrelsome folk as you might have heard; but there are two daughters, the clansmen would have my skin if I let both live, so the youngest shall be trust upon your care, to be your ward and raise her as you see fit.”
“The older child?” Hugh asked.
“She shall be given to the Gods, to the Heart Tree.” The King answered. “That’s the other point, my subjects shall have freedom of cult, the Old Gods shall be honoured, and the clansmen shall not be hunted ever more, they will be given lands and keeps and peace shall be upkept between the First Men and the sons of the Andals. I know you must sympathize with me in that point.”
“I keep to the Old Gods, yes.” Hugh said. “And if I refuse?”
Corbray laughed.
“Then it´s war my Lord.” The King said. “First I seize this castle, the entire garrison and all of it´s inhabitants will be put to the sword, then it´s on to the Bloody Gate and the Redfort, they will share the same fate.”
“Even if I yield there will still be others. Others who resist” Hugh said after a long pause. “Royce, Grafton.”
“They will be dealt with accordingly.” The King said. “I promise they shall be given generous terms and will be welcome into the King´s peace.”
“It seems there is nothing more to say.” Hugh Redfort said.
And soon there was kneeling.
And soon the Gates of the Moon were opened for Lord Hugh. And the Flayed Man flew atop it´s walls.
PS. Well here we are at last. Thanks for reading. Hope you have a pleasant weekend.
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