At that moment, Earl Rickard dismounted and knelt beside his dead son. His face was as dark as storm clouds, and even amidst the battlefield, this sight sent chills through the soldiers and nobles nearby. The grief in him was palpable, raw, and threatening to consume him entirely.
After a few tense seconds, Earl Rickard forced himself to rise. Gripping his longsword, he walked silently toward the captured golden-haired knight, his every step burning with a rage that seemed ready to ignite the world. It was clear to all that he might impale the Kingslayer's head on his spear in the next instant.
Jaime Lannister had regained consciousness by then. He saw Earl Rickard approaching, sword in hand, and glancing at the white sunburst emblem on Rickard's chest, he laughed—arrogant, unrestrained, and filled with entitlement.
"So, the father of those two blockheads has come. If you are capable, release me and give me a sword. I can easily reunite all three of you—father and sons."
His words dripped with overconfidence. In his prime, Jaime alone could have taken on both the elder and younger Karstark.
Earl Rickard did not respond. He continued forward, treating Jaime as if he were already dead—unworthy of reply.
"Lord Karstark, you can put down your weapon. The battle is over, and we have won!"
Robb Stark's voice rang out. Covered in blood but commanding, the Young Wolf's words sought to prevent further bloodshed. He knew the North needed a living Lannister of high value—someone to exchange for his father and sisters trapped in King's Landing. Jaime could not die, not yet. Moreover, Robb's father had taught him never to execute captives without trial.
Earl Rickard halted, torn between loyalty and grief. His rage was not easily quelled, and the desire for revenge still burned fiercely in his chest.
"Robb Stark," he said, voice thick with anger and sorrow, "as a lord leading your troops into battle, I believe I have the right to deal with my own captive. As a father who has just lost a son, I have the right to demand that a Lannister pay the price—and it must be a close relative."
Robb's expression remained calm, but his clenched fists betrayed the inner tension. He understood the delicate political balance. If Earl Rickard defied him publicly, it could ignite a rift in the North, similar to Jon Umber's earlier rebellion in Winterfell. And Grey Wind, Robb's direwolf and enforcer, was not at his side, likely tearing through enemies elsewhere. At fifteen years old, Robb was still young, learning the hard lessons of leadership.
"Lord Karstark, you will have your justice," Robb replied firmly, "but not now, not the Kingslayer, and not here in a forest already soaked in blood. Trust me—the North remembers."
Earl Rickard's expression softened slightly as he looked toward his other son, Toren. He sheathed his sword, nodding to the Young Wolf. "I trust you, Robb. Karstark remembers."
Carefully, he lifted Toren's bloodied body and carried him out of the valley under the eyes of all present. Behind him, Eddard—Rickard's second son—followed, recognizing his role as a stabilizer in this volatile moment. Though only a young man and a transmigrator aware of the story's trajectory, he understood that any rash action could doom House Karstark. If his father had acted on despair, killing Lannisters on the battlefield, Robb could have branded them traitors, leaving Eddard with no path to survival.
In Winterfell, Greatjon Umber had openly challenged Robb's authority once before, only yielding after Grey Wind bit two of his fingers. The dynamics between liege and vassal were always delicate, and Eddard knew that. Maintaining the alliance with the Starks while ensuring his family's honor would require tact, patience, and a careful understanding of politics.
As the silver moonlight faded, word spread quickly: Jaime Lannister had been captured. The Western soldiers, seeing their leader taken, understood that their cause was lost. Those still alive knelt and surrendered, and cheers echoed through the blood-soaked forest celebrating the Young Wolf's victory. Northern morale soared, and news of the triumph spread rapidly throughout the Northern camp.
Casualties were stark. Fewer than two hundred Northerners had fallen, while Lannister losses numbered over two thousand, including more than a hundred knights captured alongside numerous nobles—three earls among them. Jaime, another Lannister, a cousin, and two Frey relatives were held alive. These prisoners became bargaining chips for Robb Stark, vital for the eventual negotiation to rescue his family in King's Landing.
Yet victory did not mean the war was over. Sorrow lingered where joy appeared, and Eddard, sitting in the tent, weighed his options. To protect the North and preserve his house, he had to prepare for the worst: rebellion, betrayal, and the political machinations of a bloody, ongoing conflict.
Robb had promised to compensate House Karstark for Toren's death, affirming that a Lannister would die in return. Yet the practicalities of war meant balancing vengeance with strategy, and Eddard understood the necessity of restraint. As the Earl's second son, he lacked land, inheritance, or formal authority, so he relied on his personal skill and battlefield performance to carve out his path.
To strengthen his position, Eddard requested four additional cavalrymen from his father. Earl Rickard, still mourning, consented readily, knowing his living son needed protection and support. The four new men—Karas Snow, Lando, Dita Kalander, and Mam—were loyal, experienced, and battle-hardened. Their introductions revealed their backgrounds, sacrifices, and reasons for allegiance. Karas Snow, a 26-year-old from Barrowton, had served House Karstark for four years. Lando, a middle-aged local, had family ties and a methodical approach. Dita Kalander, formerly a free knight, brought strength and professionalism. Mam, a young redhead, radiated enthusiasm and ambition.
Their loyalty, while tested, was only average, influenced by tenure, Rickard's direct orders, and the recent battle with Jaime Lannister. Eddard smiled at the system's feedback—it resembled a strategic simulation where personal achievements, identity, and granted assets determined recruitment and allegiance, much like a Paradox Interactive game or Mount & Blade.
He tested their devotion with coin purses, observing reactions and loyalty. The experiment would show who could be relied upon when his family's honor and the North's safety were on the line. As he stepped out of the tent, the four men straightened, eager to prove themselves to their new master.
Northern lords were often poor despite vast territories, and their elite forces were modest. These cavalrymen, clad in fitted chainmail beneath padded armor and black cloaks emblazoned with House Karstark's white sunburst, represented some of the best the North could offer. They were unlanded soldiers, sustained by salary and spoils of war, yet disciplined, loyal, and ready for combat.
"Gentlemen, introduce yourselves," Eddard said, and one by one, they spoke, their words concise yet revealing a lifetime of service, sacrifice, and loyalty.
After hearing them, Eddard accepted them all into his personal retinue. Their loyalty would need reinforcement, but they were now his foundation. With these soldiers, he could navigate the battlefield and political landscapes alike, gradually carving out his position and increasing his influence.
As Eddard considered the road ahead, he realized that victory was only the beginning. Every decision, every alliance, and every battle would shape the North's future and the survival of House Karstark. And with Jaime Lannister in their hands, the balance of power remained precariously in motion.
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