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It was noon inside the House Tarly tent.
"My lords, I only saw the silver eagle banner of House Mallister. The reinforcements must be a small contingent from Seagard—surely no more than five hundred men," Roose Bolton said softly, recounting everything he had seen. He hoped the other lords of the Reach would not retreat in the face of this intelligence.
Most of the knights, however, paid him no heed. The Lord of Dreadfort was an outsider, and outsiders rarely commanded attention in matters of strategy. Only Ser Marldune, a large man with bulging eyes and a perpetually impatient demeanor, stared directly at him like an angry toad.
"Five hundred?" he said sharply. "If five hundred come this morning, what if another five hundred arrive this afternoon? After countless brave warriors die trying to eliminate these enemies, perhaps a thousand more will show up by nightfall. Are nearly ten thousand men supposed to die here at Twin River City before you are satisfied?"
He leaned closer, his tone growing urgent. "If you ask me, we should seize the chance to leave now while the enemy is still few. Once that person arrives with the rumored Wolf Riders, we will be trapped. No one will be able to retreat, even if we want to."
Marldune had never been particularly enthusiastic about fighting in this battle. His troops were fewer than those of Goldengrove or Horn Hill, and his own influence was limited. But in this moment of uncertainty, he could voice his caution and see if anyone would support him.
The previously quiet tent buzzed with whispers. It was subtle, like flies circling over a carcass, but persistent.
Dickon Tarly, only thirteen years old, spoke tentatively. "How about we attack again this afternoon?"
He wanted to fight. With his father and the family's ancestral sword inside Twin River City, his desire to continue the siege was strong. Yet he knew the army was fragmented in leadership. Though his family name commanded respect, many of the older lords were reluctant to follow a boy. His youth, in moments of tension, rendered him more symbolic than authoritative.
Whispers grew louder. Count Matthus, a seasoned and cautious noble, finally spoke. "My grand-nephew, fighting is not the problem. But Ser Marldune makes a valid point. If Riverlands reinforcements continue arriving, what will we do? Casualties in a siege mount too quickly. We cannot afford such losses."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "This morning alone, we lost over four hundred men, and hundreds more are wounded. The enemy's losses are likely in the dozens at most. This cannot continue. Perhaps we should fall back to Ruby Ford. If men are going to die anyway, why not do so on more favorable ground, closer to the Reach?"
Dickon's young mind struggled to absorb this. Among the assembled lords, he realized, he alone genuinely wanted to attack Twin River City. The others were seeking an escape from a dangerous situation. The siege's cost—nearly a thousand casualties—mattered little to them.
Panic briefly gripped him. If he pressed forward, would he be abandoned in Twin River City, along with his father and the ancestral sword? He closed his eyes, trying to think of what he could say to restore the confidence of these lords, to ensure they entrusted him with the army and continued the siege.
A rare moment of quiet presented itself. Roose Bolton rose, his pale eyes glinting thoughtfully. His voice was soft but deliberate, every word weighed and measured.
"To my knowledge," he began, "north of Twin River City, near the Neck, there is a section of river relatively narrow. I propose I lead my troops there, cross undetected, and besiege the west wall of Twin River City. This will intercept reinforcements from the north and tie down part of Eddard Karstark's forces, making an eastern attack easier."
Dickon Tarly's eyes widened. Within seconds, excitement replaced his previous anxiety. Feasible! A two-pronged attack, with one contingent hidden and striking from an unexpected direction, could decisively turn the tide. A morning of siege might already yield the city walls if this succeeded. He instinctively praised, "Good plan!"
Roose Bolton's face remained stoic for a moment, then he smiled faintly and nodded at Dickon.
Count Matthus, however, narrowed his eyes. Suspicion lingered in his gaze. "Lord Bolton," he asked slowly, "you do not think the attack on Twin River City is hopeless, so you plan to abandon us and flee north alone, is that it?"
The suspicion was not unfounded. Rumors among Tarly cavalrymen suggested that Bolton had been the first to retreat when the enemy charged towards Horn Hill. He had earned a reputation as a cautious, life-loving Northern noble. Could this apparent selflessness be trusted?
Roose's gaze met theirs evenly, unflinching. "My lords, allow me to dispel this unfounded accusation." His tone was measured, deliberate. "I am not an unwise man. Abandoning you now would mean offending Houses Tyrell, Lannister, and the Iron Throne simultaneously. That would spell certain destruction for my house as well as for yours."
Suspicion softened in the tent, but he continued. "Furthermore, I am familiar with this terrain. I have led troops between Ruby Ford and Karin Bay, and during that time, I even married Walder's daughter. If anyone can accomplish this task, it is me. That is why I have stepped forward."
Even the last of the lingering doubts faded as he spoke with icy clarity. "Lastly, to serve the Iron Throne, I abandoned Robb Stark, who foolishly proclaimed himself king. There is likely no one here more determined to capture Twin River City or to see the fall of House Stark. Count Matthus, your suspicion is baseless."
Count Matthus paused, reflecting on the logic. Indeed, few would risk so much by abandoning allies now. Roose Bolton sought only to achieve victory and solidify his own position. Slowly, a hint of acknowledgment softened Matthus' expression. "Then let us proceed with Lord Bolton's plan. This afternoon, we will continue a feigned attack while the Dreadfort army crosses the Green Fork River and flanks the enemy from the north."
Dickon Tarly, eager to continue the siege, readily agreed. "No problem, Lord Matthus. I agree with this plan."
Unaware, the young lord's compliance subtly shifted the authority of the army into Bolton's hands.
"Good. Then prepare accordingly. When afternoon comes, and the sun is lower in the sky, we will deploy soldiers to resume the siege," Matthus commanded.
Dickon nodded, pleased to be included, while Ser Yohn Gullen, seated nearby, clenched his fists. He recognized the truth: House Tarly's troops were the strongest and most numerous, and yet his young lord, despite his capability, had been reduced to a nominal role. For now, he had no choice but to wait for another opportunity.
---
Meanwhile, in Twin River City, Eddard had finished integrating the reinforcements from Seagard. After a simple meal, he ascended the city wall, releasing Blackfeather and employing his Animal Friend ability to observe enemy movements.
Soon, he noticed something peculiar. The northern troops appeared to be thinning—there were far fewer than before.
Before Eddard could investigate further, the Reach soldiers began to reassemble and advance toward Twin River City.
"Prepare for battle!" The city's alarm bells rang again, urgent and insistent, signaling that the next stage of the siege was about to begin.
Füll bōøk àvàilàble óñ pàtreøn (Gk31)If you purchase this book, I will send you a gift. You will receive access to all the stories on my page up to the Silver Tier for one month. Once you complete the purchase, I will email you a coupon."