At dawn, the massive drawbridge of Twin River City slammed down. Over a hundred riders, their horses' hooves splashing through the dew that reflected the morning glow, streamed out of the city gate and galloped south. They followed the King's Road for over ten miles before turning east, plunging into the forest.
"Shh… shh…" Berry Dondelion bent down, whispering soothing sounds to calm his mount. Carefully, he wrapped thick linen around each hoof. Once finished, he straightened and addressed Eddard, who was bundling his horse's tail nearby.
"Lord, forgive my concern," Berry said. "As far as I know, Earl Tarly has been renowned across Westeros since his youth. How could so many of us quietly pass through the scouts he's deployed on the army's periphery? And even if we do, he surely has a considerable number of personal guards. Any delay, and we'll be surrounded."
A nobleman from the Dornish Marches, Berry was loyal to Storm's End, yet he knew House Tarly well. Randyll Tarly, the current lord of Horn Hill, was already a formidable figure. Berry had his doubts about Eddard's plan, but he was a man of honor, willing to act despite uncertainties.
Eddard waved a hand dismissively. "You need not worry, Lord Berry. I have my methods. Even if things don't go as planned, we can eliminate the enemy scouts and return to Twin River City safely."
Last night, as he contemplated the city's defense, Eddard realized an advantage: Randyll Tarly and Roose Bolton did not know Twin River City had already fallen into new hands. Their forced-march tactics gave him further insight. Who would risk advancing rapidly if they were only a day or two away from the enemy city?
He recalled seeing Roose Bolton converse with another bald general—likely Randyll Tarly—just the night before. If he could use Blackfeather, his raven, to scout from above and lead the cavalry to stealthily avoid Tarly's scouts, then ambush the lords from the forest at the right moment, he might strike a decisive blow. With precise timing, both Randyll Tarly and Roose Bolton could be eliminated before they even realized what hit them.
Thinking back, Eddard remembered Zhang Liao intimidating Xiaoyao Ford using a similar tactic—striking with a small force when the enemy leader was unprepared. That was the essence of a true surprise.
Eddard, once convinced of a plan's feasibility, wasted no time. That night, he ordered the House Karstark cavalry to inspect their weapons and armor, ensuring bits were in horses' mouths and hooves were wrapped. He then approached Berry Dondelion, persuading him to cooperate. Seeing Eddard's confidence, Berry nodded. "Then I'll keep my eyes peeled and trust your method will carry us safely."
"Trust me," Eddard said with a smile. "You will be greatly surprised."
By now, all preparations were complete. The cavalrymen, veterans who had fought from the battle of Haunted Forest to the present, were primed for combat. Their morale soared—not only were they elite warriors, but Eddard had distributed nearly half of the gold dragons he had retrieved from the Frey treasury. Each soldier received at least fifty gold dragons, several times the usual reward. In a major engagement, such wealth was the finest stimulant for courage.
Eddard raised his right hand, signaling silently. He led the column at the front, with Blackfeather perched on his shoulder. The raven let out two sharp caws before soaring into the sky. Immediately, the cavalry split into three groups, winding through the forest with careful stealth. Leaves crackled softly underfoot, dead branches snapped quietly, and they avoided dense underbrush as they moved.
Their pace varied—sometimes creeping along the forest edge to glimpse the King's Road below, where Tarly's vanguard marched, and other times plunging deep into the forest to avoid detection. Small animals scattered, birds erupted into flight, and once, Eddard almost encountered three enemy scouts. He forced the party deeper, startling the forest further, yet the scouts eventually gave up and left, leaving him puzzled. Why didn't they pursue him? Even so, he calmed himself, transferring his vision to Blackfeather to continue navigating.
By afternoon, the column reached the forest's edge. Hidden among bushes and trees, they dismounted and donned their armor. Though the soldiers were unaware of Eddard's full plan, they sensed the enemy was near.
As the sky darkened, clouds massing from the south signaled an impending storm. At that moment, Lord Tarly, at the head of the procession, squinted upward. "Lord Bolton," he asked with a frown, "doesn't that raven in the sky seem… familiar? I've seen it before. I can't shake the feeling it's watching us."
He glanced at his squire, Dickon, who was thirteen, wide-eyed, and curious. "Father, I heard the Horn Hill maester say that some people in the North can control animals and even see through them. Is that true?"
Roose Bolton's pale eyes met Tarly's. "Only the women of House Mormont claim such powers, and the Reeds of Greywater Watch. But I've never witnessed it firsthand. Even on battlefields, Mormont women smash heads with wolfsbane clubs rather than display extraordinary abilities. The Reeds remain a mystery in their swamp."
Roose's explanation didn't dispel Randyll's doubts. "Then… shoot that crow!" he commanded. "I don't want to see it again."
Blackfeather, meanwhile, cawed and flapped into the clouds, mixing human words with his cries: "Damn bald man, damn bald man!" Too far away, Tarly could not hear, though had he done so, he might have torn the raven from the sky in fury.
Randyll's attention shifted back to the forest as he considered whether to push the army forward in the rain. His ten thousand soldiers, marching along the King's Road with ample supplies, had been dispersed due to the forced march. House Tarly soldiers maintained formation, but troops from other houses lagged behind, creating stragglers—a prime target for opportunists.
Indeed, the Mountain Clans, wildlings from the Moon Mountains, took notice. Living in poverty, they were unrestrained, hunting and plundering to survive. Recent storms had ruined the harvest, and Tarly's stragglers, well-armed and isolated, presented irresistible targets. The wildlings struck quickly, killed or injured a few, grabbed weapons and armor, and vanished into the forest.
Although Tarly dispatched cavalry to protect the marchers and slowed the column, the forest remained dangerous. But today, it was not wildlings who emerged…
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