Duke Ned had to defend the North against invasions from the Iron Islands, and Robb and Brynden would not receive other support in the short term.
It could be said… they only had an army that would dwindle with each battle, and Robb's dynasty was destined to be short-lived. Unless Robb's army could defeat Lannister in one fell swoop and capture King's Landing.
Another option was to abandon the Riverlands and retreat to the North… and also to give up the King's crown, and actively seek peace with Lannister to avoid Lannister and Greyjoy joining forces to attack the North. But… this also meant that the Tully's rule in the Riverlands would become history, and retreating to the North also meant Robb abandoning the Tully Family.
The Tully had no choice either; unless Brynden Tully sent Robb's head to the Red Keep… which he couldn't do, they could only fight.
The Lannister Army, having just defeated Stannis, needed to rest, but they would soon face the actively warring House Stark-Tully.
Greene's eyes trembled; Dorne was too far, and it seemed… due to Edmure's death, the biggest beneficiaries might be Marigold and Golden Rose.
Greene's gaze shifted slightly. Jeyne Westerling… could it be… that another mastermind was hidden?
A constantly shifting gaze made Greene collect his thoughts, and he looked at Brienne beside him.
Seeing Greene look at her, Brienne's thick lips moved for a moment, and she said, "Lord Green, they are innocent, I want to bury them."
Greene nodded slightly: "Brienne, you have a knight's compassion. Go, find a few more people…"
Thinking of Brienne's dull personality, he directly ordered: "Ser, help Brienne bury those helpless people."
The lower branches of the oak tree were large enough for a person to stand on. Brienne climbed the trunk, dagger in hand, moving through the foliage, cutting down the corpses. As the bodies fell, flies swarmed around them, and the more bodies that fell, the stronger the stench became.
Below, some people dug pits, others carried bodies, busy at work, occasionally denouncing the butchers' evil deeds.
The sun shone directly, and Lord Green blinked his eyes; he seemed to see the light of justice emanating from the Cleber Soldiers. His ears twitched, and the Riverlands, filled with wailing, seemed to be calling for its new ruler.
Stopping his reverie, Greene's lips curved slightly downwards. He gently kicked his horse's belly, and the horse trotted towards the river.
Pillars of smoke spiraled upwards, Mondon squinted, roasting the Trout he had just caught from the river by the bonfire. Further away, Greene sat on a folding wooden chair, looking at the map in his hand.
Tap-tap-tap-tap, the sound of hooves echoed from afar.
Soon, Anguy's figure appeared. He dismounted and came before Greene, placing his hand on his chest and saying, "Lord Green."
Greene shifted his gaze from the map and said, "Is there news?"
Anguy nodded and said, "There are three hunters, a father and son fishing pair, and an old farmer's family; they all saw a group of Lannister. Because of the distance, most people mistook Lord Tyrion for a child, which made me more certain of the information those people provided."
After some thought, he continued, "According to the information provided by those people, they passed Kneeling Stump about two days ago."
Kneeling Stump is located on the south bank of the Red Fork River bend, the place where Torren Stark, King of the North, knelt before the Conqueror, Aegon. Legend has it that after the Field of Fire, Torren, King of the North, personally led the Northern army south, but when he witnessed the dragons with his own eyes, he bent his knee and surrendered his bronze and black iron crown.
After listening, Greene gazed at the map for a moment and said, "Anguy, we can narrow down the search area."
Jaime lay on a wooden board, gazing at the clear night sky. The night was strangely beautiful, with an elegant new moon and an unprecedented sky full of stars. Corona Borealis was at the zenith, with Pegasus and Cygnus nearby, and on the pine branches… the shy Maiden of the Moon was half-hidden.
Tyrion limped over. He squatted down and looked at the festering wound on Jaime's forearm and his chapped lips.
Dirty and disheveled, Tyrion called out, "Jaime, Jaime."
The fever made Jaime dizzy, making him think he was dreaming. He moved with difficulty, trying to force a smile, and hoarsely replied, "Tyrion."
Looking at the extremely weak Jaime, Tyrion piled on a smile: "It's a pity, I thought you had already embraced pray; you are truly disrespectful."
"Ha… heh… cough…"
Tyrion looked at a certain part of Jaime with ill intent and quipped, "I wonder if it will still be usable in the future… Hmm, if unfortunately I'm right, I only hope you don't become a spear-swallowing enthusiast."
After speaking, he even shivered exaggeratedly: "Actually, as long as you don't set your sights on your dear brother, I don't mind."
"Cough… cough…" Jaime coughed painfully.
Tyrion chuckled for a while, then his face tightened, and he sighed: "Brother Jaime, if you drag this on, you will die. You desperately need a physician's treatment."
Jaime Lannister opened his mouth and said with difficulty, "Tyrion… I would rather die… I don't want to be a captive again…"
Tyrion tried to persuade him: "Jaime, living is more important than honor."
Jaime closed his eyelids and slowly shook his head. Living… He had done that more than a decade ago, wearing a white cloak, witnessing the tragic deaths of the Stark father and son before his eyes. When Duke Rickard, fully armored, was roasted alive, and his son Brandon was strangled to death trying to save his father, he did not choose honor, but chose to remain silent, retreating into his mind, not seeing, not thinking.
Jaime slowly opened his eyelids. The night… how could it be so charming? He asked himself, why would the stars deign to shed their light for someone like him?
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