Robb Stark's expression brightened as Ser Olivar rode up, excitement written across his face. "Where did they move?" Robb asked, urgency in his voice.
"They've moved east, toward the Red Fork," Ser Olivar reported. "They abandoned all their supplies and wounded. They left with almost nothing."
Robb raised an eyebrow. This was unexpected. The enemy—Tywin Lannister, the cunning old lion—had left behind a veritable treasure trove: food, supplies, and a cache of fine armors and weapons. Many of these were far superior to what the North's soldiers carried.
Robb's gaze narrowed. The more than seven thousand cavalry of the North, with their backs to Golden Tooth, were now like a pack of wolves. Their eyes glimmered with the hunger for battle, sharp and ready to strike at the Lannisters. Meanwhile, Edmure Tully led twenty thousand infantry and over a thousand cavalry south, closing in steadily.
Tywin faced a dilemma: if he tried to attack forward, he would have to lead the cavalry in a fighting retreat, defending Golden Tooth while trying to lure the North into a trap. If he attempted to break backward, he would have to commit to a hard strike with his cavalry to reunite with the rest of his army. Even then, numerical superiority of the pursuing forces would make the Lannisters' retreat perilous.
Moreover, Tywin's army was now cut off from supplies and provisions. The choice he made next would determine the survival of his forces. Every hour of delay worked against him.
Robb's voice rang out. "Send my orders: all lords and officers, gather here immediately!"
He pulled a map from his saddlebag and spread it across a flat stone, studying the Red Fork and the surrounding terrain in silence. Eddard Karstark did not interfere; in this situation, the strategy and decisions belonged entirely to Robb. His instincts as a commander were sharp, honed in countless drills and skirmishes. Only after Robb acted would advice be necessary.
Robb summoned Abel to his side. "I have a task for you," he said seriously. "When it is complete, you will receive a piece of the lands I am about to acquire. You will establish your own house."
Abel's eyes widened. He knelt on one knee. "Young Master, I swear I will complete this task with my life."
Eddard helped him to his feet. "Abel, life is most meaningful when it shines like the sun, even in the coldest winter. Live with pride, and do not forget our house words: Winter Sun."
"Winter Sun," Abel repeated, his voice full of pride and determination.
"Now, you must follow my instructions exactly. Understood?" Robb asked.
"Yes," Abel responded firmly.
The sound of hoofbeats rose around them as the lords and officers gathered. At the edge of the forest, a war council formed, with banners flapping in the wind. Soldiers, still wearing blood-stained armor from previous battles, set aside their waterskins and food, gathered their weapons, and mounted their horses again, creating a tide of gray-white cavalry.
Eddard observed the assembling troops and overheard Earl Tai Tuo Si Blackwood remark, "There are more than twenty fords across the Red Fork, but most are narrow. No lord is willing to repair them. With just a few hundred men, it might be possible to cross quickly, but Tywin still commands at least fifteen thousand soldiers. He's not insane, is he?"
Eddard stepped forward, his voice cutting through the murmurs. "Of course he's not crazy. Tywin Lannister is the most ruthless and calculating man in the Seven Kingdoms. He is preparing to sacrifice some soldiers to protect the core of his army and retreat toward King's Landing. Once there, with the Iron Throne's support, he will conscript soldiers from the Crownlands to strike again."
A murmur of unease passed through the gathered lords. Earl Karel Vance spoke up. "The Crownlands don't have enough troops to be significant. Even scouring the region, they couldn't produce a few thousand capable soldiers."
"True," Eddard replied, pointing to the map, "but Harrenhal is still under Tywin's control. Even a few thousand well-trained men there could cause us serious trouble. If he regains strength, all our gains so far could be undone."
Greatjon Umber, arm in a sling, bellowed his approval. "Then what are we waiting for? Chase him!"
Shouts erupted among the lords. "Catch them!" "Stop them from crossing the river!" "Kill as many as we can!" "Rip the Lion's teeth out so the Lannisters dare not bare them again!"
The momentum stirred by Eddard's words meant Robb no longer needed to boost morale. He issued the command with decisive authority: "Gather all warriors who can still ride. We depart immediately!"
Lords scattered to rally their soldiers. Eddard approached Robb and quietly suggested, "It would be wise to let Ser Brynden lead an infantry unit to seize Harrenhal before Tywin and hold it. Harrenhal is critical to control the Riverlands and the Trident. Its position protects the eastern and western approaches, and adding Golden Tooth strengthens our hold. The only concern is the south, where the Blackwater River offers some strategic depth."
Robb nodded. "I have already arranged for Ser Brynden to obtain an infantry unit from my uncle. He will cross the Red Fork and besiege Harrenhal. We cannot waste this opportunity."
Eddard bowed, silently taking his leave. Robb muttered the word "father," his eyes briefly clouded with memories, sadness flickering across his face. The horn calls sounded, summoning soldiers to their banners. The sadness melted, replaced by unshakable resolve. Robb swung onto his horse, the Young Wolf once again ready to lead his men into battle.
The Running Wolf Flag unfurled in the wind, sharp teeth and claws visible against the gray sky. Banners from other houses gathered, forming a surging river of soldiers. Those who had barely survived the previous engagement picked up weapons and warhorses again, determined to fight.
Eddard took a spear from Konn's hand and glanced back. All surviving retainers had followed, their loyalty unwavering. He spoke softly to Matthew, who nodded in understanding. "The North remembers. House Karstark will not forget."
The direwolves moved with the cavalry, a symbol of the North's relentless pursuit. Eddard spurred his horse up a gentle rise, counting fewer than six thousand cavalry pursuing the Lannisters.
After Earl Tai Tuo Si's retreat from Lannisport, the illusion Eddard had created completely failed. To prevent Davos Lannister from counterattacking Golden Tooth, Robb had left a unit behind. The Northern army now pursued the Lannisters, who had already suffered heavy casualties. The wounded were being tended by Tywin's remaining forces.
Even so, fewer than six thousand could pursue over fifteen thousand Lannister troops, all highly trained and well-equipped. Among them, four thousand cavalry were particularly skilled and deadly.
Eddard felt a vague unease settle over him. Tywin Lannister was still the old lion, calculating, patient, and ruthless. The pursuit would be dangerous, but the North had momentum and initiative. Every choice from this point on would shape the war to come.
The chase toward the Red Fork had begun, the Northern cavalry surging forward like a river of steel and determination. Robb Stark, the Young Wolf, led the charge, his mind focused, his heart set on the downfall of Tywin Lannister.
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