For the first time since becoming Chief Logistics Officer, Aegor offered such a sincere apology. He even felt a faint sense of camaraderie with Denys Mallister. Unfortunately, that feeling of gratitude didn't last twelve hours. At dawn the next day, Robb Stark summoned him and a group of Northerners and publicly announced the news of the Ironborn invasion along the North's coast.
There were no messenger ravens in Ice Mark City, so the source of the news was obvious. It was clear this situation, where their territory was being invaded, was far more serious than the vague threat posed by the Gift resettlement plan. In all likelihood, the inspection of the Gift would end here.
Aegor had been just one step away from the position of Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. The only remaining variables had come from this inspection. If he had known this news earlier, how could Denys Mallister have gotten him to agree to so many conditions? But that old fox had deliberately chosen the previous night, when Aegor was unaware of the news to negotiate the deal that would shape the future of the Night's Watch, taking full advantage of the situation.
Perhaps feeling guilty, or afraid Aegor wouldn't keep his word, the old man had left Ice Mark City early that morning. Aegor had nowhere to vent his anger. All he could do was curse the old man repeatedly in his heart.
(Forget it. You can't expect to profit from every deal.)
Taking a deep breath, he consoled himself inwardly.
Compared to the responsibilities he would face after being elected Commander, being slightly and harmlessly tricked by Denys, or even racking his brain trying to get back at him, all of it seemed petty and meaningless. He had to look forward. Besides, he was no longer a commoner.
Clearing his mind, Aegor refocused on the discussion at hand.
The North being invaded was theoretically not the Night's Watch's concern. However, Aegor had previously led troops south to capture Asha Greyjoy alive and repel the first Ironborn invasion, and now he was leading the Northern lords on a tour of the Wall. Out of courtesy and respect for him as their "host," he, a man in black, was also included in this internal Northern council.
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"In the declaration of war sent to Deepwood Motte, Euron Greyjoy not only demanded I release his niece Asha Greyjoy, but also accused the North of betraying the Iron Throne by no longer sending troops to suppress King Stannis's rebellion. He claims this campaign is a matter of justice."
If the attack hadn't been on the North, Robb Stark would've laughed in anger at such a ridiculous accusation. "The second point is obviously just a convenient excuse, but the first… Lords, do you think I should release Asha?"
"It's all nonsense. Do they need a reason to start a war? If he really cared about his niece, would he invade the North without even trying to negotiate?" Lord Karstark snorted. "That madman Euron acts without logic or rules. With people like him, there's only one way, strike them hard. Don't waste time with words. We should return at once, reassemble the army, march to the western coast, and crush those pirates!"
Buckwell's words echoed the sentiments of most Northerners present. Everyone nodded in agreement, turning to Robb with expectant eyes, waiting for the order to return and defend their homes.
"That may sound reasonable, but if you do that, you'll be walking straight into the trap laid by that so-called 'madman,'" Roose Bolton interjected. "The Crow's Eye, that man… he returned to the Iron Islands after years in exile, with no backing or influence, yet he seized power and took the Seastone Chair in an instant. You can call him mad, but don't take him for a fool. He abandoned the rich and temperate Riverlands, already weakened by war and instead came to the cold and barren North, where the great army had just returned victorious. His goal is clear: to drag the Seven Kingdoms into a prolonged civil war, seeking a chance to claim Westeros and restore the Iron Islands to their so-called glory under the House of Hoare. I'd wager he hasn't only raided the North. It's highly likely he's struck the Westerlands too—and he might split his forces to harass the Riverlands. He'll do anything to weaken the factions that openly or secretly support King Stannis, keeping the war for the Iron Throne going endlessly… until the Seven Kingdoms are drained, and he can stand on equal footing or even surpass them."
"You… how do you twist so much out of everything? Even if your analysis is right, what does it change about what we need to do now?" Lord Glover interrupted impatiently. "We can't just sit around the Wall and let him terrorize our people."
"Of course not," Roose Bolton shook his head, sounding almost gentle. "Deepwood Motte now has hundreds more elite soldiers than it did when Asha seized it by surprise. It won't fall so easily. Lord Glover, don't let emotion cloud your judgment. Haste makes waste. In war, a few hours spent discussing a proper plan of action is not unreasonable. If every house rallies their full forces and rushes to the western coast, they'll be falling into Euron's trap…"
"If Bolton doesn't want to send troops, he should just say so. We don't need your few spearmen to deal with those Ironborn scum!" Lord Umber snapped.
"Those are harsh words, Lord Umber," Bolton shook his head again. "The Iron Islands are small and sparsely populated. They're no match for the North in a head-on war… Don't you think they know that? If we reassemble the large army we previously gathered at King Robert's call to defeat the Lannisters, by the time we reach the coast, we won't find a single Ironborn left. They have countless longships and expert sailors. They can strike the Rocky Shore in the morning and hit Bear Island by evening. Can the North's twenty or thirty thousand men chase them nonstop? If we act recklessly, how long can we sustain it? And when the army has eaten through most of our grain, how will we survive the coming Winter?"
"Dreadfort is so far from the coast, of course Bolton can speak without concern. This is wrong, that's no good… then tell us, what should we do? Just sit back and take it?"
"Of course we must fight back. But we must remember why we protect the land: to farm and feed the people. Now that the autumn harvest is done and Winter has come, the soil will soon be frozen hard. Even without the Ironborn, we'd soon be sending word for scattered farmers to come gather in Winter Town to overwinter. Move them to castles or fortified villages ahead of time, arm them modestly, assign them to the standing guards of each house. Then form a few elite cavalry units for mobility. Patrol the coastline and main roads, burn or drive away any ships that come ashore. If the Ironborn can't plunder or slaughter Northerners for supplies, and if advancing inland risks having their retreat cut off, then even if they want to cause chaos, they'll find it difficult. Once heavy snow sets in, they'll be forced to crawl back to their miserable islands to starve."
…
Aegor pursed his lips. Roose Bolton's strategy wasn't wrong. The Ironborn, as pirates, lacked the ability to take and hold fortified positions. In the past, when they attacked, it was essential to meet them in battle because there were newly planted fields, unharvested crops, and livestock grazing in the open—all vital resources. The land couldn't be abandoned. But now, the North's harvest was complete. There were no new crops. There was no vital lifeline the invaders could seize. A tortoise strategy would deny them targets, leaving them helpless and forced to withdraw.
But… a strategy like this was usually employed against enemies too strong to defeat. For a vast realm like the North to avoid fighting the tiny Iron Islands? That was unacceptable in terms of pride. Moreover, Robb was a newly crowned King. He hadn't protected his vassals in the last campaign in the South. If he now remained in Winterfell during an invasion in the North, the damage to his reputation would be catastrophic—and something he simply couldn't risk.
Considering all that, although Bolton's strategy was the most secure, it was destined to be rejected.
"Lord Bolton's words make sense. Crow's Eye may well be thinking along those lines," Robb nodded, acknowledging Bolton's analysis, before—as expected—changing the subject. "But giving up vast swaths of land without even putting up a fight would be cowardly. And we still need people to escort the farmers migrating to Winter Town. If the Ironborn are also harassing the Riverlands, and their lords are fighting alongside King Stannis, we must maintain the safety of their rear. An army must be assembled… but let's keep it within ten thousand men. Each house will only call up veterans and elites. If we truly cannot find the Ironborn's main force for a decisive battle, we'll make further plans then."
This was not a discussion but a decision. As a vassal, Roose Bolton could not continue to argue. He could only sigh and give in.
"If my lord has made up his mind, so be it… but fighting the Ironborn without a fleet is worse than not fighting at all. Before engaging, you must send word to the Lords of Bear Island and White Harbor, commanding their fleets to assist. We don't expect them to defeat the Iron Fleet, but we must at least have ships to support ground forces. Otherwise, the Ironborn will fight and flee as they wish, and we'll be left at their mercy."
It was a reasonable suggestion, but the Northern lords were eager to return home. None had the patience to listen.
"We'll discuss the rest on the way," Robb said, cutting Bolton off with a wave of his hand. Then he turned to Aegor, who had been silently observing. "Chief Logistics Officer, this inspection is likely concluded. From what I've seen so far, I believe you can manage these Wildlings, let's call them the New Gift People for now. But they are just ordinary folk living north of the Wall. Your resettlement plan includes more than that. Before heading south to the coast to confront the Ironborn, I plan to take half a day to see what the legendary giants look like. Make the arrangements. We leave today."
(To be continued.)