The waters of the Green Fork flowed deep and swift beneath the ancient stone bridge of The Twins. The massive castle, split into its eastern and western towers, stood proudly on both sides of the river, connected by the great arching bridge that had long served as one of the most important crossings in the Riverlands.
Golden quartered banners snapped loudly in the wind atop the battlements. The sigils gleamed brightly beneath the pale sunlight, as if proclaiming their authority over the river and everything that passed beneath it.
Standing along the battlements of the eastern tower were several notable figures.
Lord Gendry, clad in black scale armor that reflected almost no light, stood at the center. Beside him were Ser Barristan Selmy, Lord Jason Mallister, Bronze Yohn Royce, Anguy, and several other commanders.
They watched the distant road leading toward the crossing.
Ser Barristan finally broke the silence.
"Robb Stark's delegation should arrive soon."
Anguy snorted softly.
"Is he bringing his foolish mother with him?"
Ser Barristan frowned slightly at the tone.
"That is uncertain," the old knight replied calmly. "However, Lady Catelyn may very well travel south as well. Lord Hoster Tully's health grows weaker by the day. He is like a candle flickering in the wind."
Barristan himself looked magnificent that day.
His armor was splendidly forged and gilded, shining faintly in the sunlight. It was strong as ice and bright as newly fallen snow. At his hip hung a dagger, while his longsword rested on the opposite side of his waist, both attached to a white leather belt fastened with golden buckles.
Across his shoulders flowed a white cloak.
His helmet rested under one arm. Its narrow eye slit gave it a stern appearance, while its crest depicted both a stag and a dragon, their heads raised proudly as if announcing victory.
From inside the castle came the sound of music.
Soft, lively melodies drifted upward from the great hall. Singers had been performing throughout the day, and their pleasant songs filled the air.
Even the soldiers on the battlements hummed along quietly.
"They sing quite well," Lord Gendry remarked.
The prosperous castle of The Twins naturally employed many singers. Some had already composed a new song in his honor.
"The Stag of Night," Lord Jason Mallister said.
"The song celebrates your victory."
He began reciting a few of the lyrics.
"The stars in the night are the eyes of the stag,
The howling wind carries their song.
The stars in the night are the messengers of the stag,
The howling wind carries their song."
Lord Gendry listened quietly.
Then he smiled faintly.
"Let the singers raise their voices," he said.
"Make sure the Young Wolf and his northern lords hear the song clearly."
"Yes, my lord."
Several knights nodded.
Yet despite the pleasant music, Gendry's thoughts were far from relaxed.
Saving the Riverlands and destroying House Frey was a great victory.
But it was far from enough.
The Lannisters had suffered severe losses, but their core strength remained intact. Tywin Lannister was not the type of man to surrender after a single defeat.
Instead, he would gather new armies and strike again.
The Westerlands possessed enormous wealth and manpower.
As one of the oldest noble houses in the realm, House Lannister had long controlled vast resources. Their lands were wealthy, their population large, and their political power highly centralized.
Tywin had spent decades consolidating that power.
He had ruthlessly destroyed rival houses such as House Reyne and House Tarbeck, eliminating any lords who might challenge his authority.
Combined with over thirty years of stable rule, Tywin had transformed the Westerlands into a formidable power.
Sooner or later, he would respond.
He would bribe eastern lords.
He would gather new soldiers.
And he would march again.
Lord Gendry understood this clearly.
Which meant he needed new allies as well.
Whether Robb Stark intended to march south—and with how many men—was a question that required careful discussion.
Meanwhile, Bronze Yohn Royce reported on recent developments.
"All the wealth belonging to House Frey has been accounted for," he said.
"Although the Cripple Rosso refused to support us, the castle's maester cooperated fully."
Royce paused briefly.
"We also discovered a secret vault hidden deep in the forest. House Frey had been storing their wealth there for many years."
Lord Gendry nodded.
"It seems the Cripple was telling the truth after all."
The wealth of House Frey was enormous.
Grain supplies.
Land holdings.
Gold reserves.
Correspondence with other houses.
Everything needed to be carefully cataloged and controlled.
The fall of a great noble house often produced a sudden flood of wealth.
But such wealth had to be managed wisely.
"Reward the soldiers generously," Gendry ordered.
"But the remaining supplies must be sealed."
He looked toward the river.
"We came here to secure the crossing of the Riverlands, not to let the common people starve."
He continued.
"The remaining bandits must also be eliminated."
Lord Jason and the others nodded.
"Yes, my lord."
The victory had brought enormous profit.
But the cost had also been high.
The soldiers who fought in the brutal three-day battle needed to be rewarded, fed, and resupplied.
Golden dragons had already been distributed as payment.
One mercenary in particular had received special treatment.
Bluebeard, the pirate who had helped open the castle gates, had rendered tremendous service.
Lord Gendry allowed him to take anything he wanted from the Frey treasury—as long as it fit inside a single chest.
Bluebeard proved surprisingly sensible.
He filled the chest entirely with gold.
Then he expressed his deep gratitude before leaving.
"Lord Jason will defend the western tower," Gendry continued.
"Lord Yohn will command the eastern tower."
"Ser Boggs will hold the central river bridge."
He nodded firmly.
"For now, this arrangement will suffice."
Jason Mallister ruled nearby Seagard, making him well suited to guard the western side.
The Vale was close to the eastern side, making Yohn Royce a natural choice there.
Technically, House Darry might have been another option.
But their strength was simply too small.
Just as the meeting continued, several mounted knights rode swiftly toward the gates of The Twins.
They raised their hands in signal.
"The Stark delegation is approaching!"
Lord Gendry turned toward the stairs.
"Let's go."
He descended from the eastern tower with the others.
A hundred gold-cloaked guards followed behind them.
Lord Jason and Lord Yohn accompanied him as well.
Jason Mallister had long known Catelyn Stark, while Yohn Royce shared ancestral ties with House Stark.
The Vale and the North had maintained friendly relations for generations.
Golden banners waved proudly as the soldiers marched out.
Their confidence was obvious.
They had saved the Riverlands.
They had destroyed House Frey.
They were the Stag of Night, victorious in every battle.
Soon, Lord Gendry spotted the approaching banners.
White flags bearing the gray Direwolf of House Stark moved steadily along the road.
Behind them followed other northern banners.
However, only the vanguard had arrived so far.
Then he saw Robb Stark.
The Young Wolf had changed.
His reddish-brown hair framed a face that now carried the beginnings of a beard. Blue eyes scanned the surroundings carefully.
He rode a sturdy gray destrier.
At his side hung a wooden shield rimmed with iron, painted gray and white. Carved into the center was the roaring head of a direwolf.
Robb wore chainmail beneath a bleached leather vest.
A longsword and dagger hung at his waist.
A heavy cloak trimmed with fur rested across his shoulders.
He tried to carry himself like a fully grown lord.
But he was still young.
Robb's build resembled the Tullys more than the Starks.
Beside him rode two familiar figures.
The bastard Jon Snow.
And the hostage Theon Greyjoy.
Lord Gendry's eyes briefly scanned the northern army.
Some of the noble lords and elite warriors had respectable armor and weapons.
But most of the soldiers were poorly equipped.
Many still relied on basic chainmail and simple shields.
The North also lacked strong cavalry forces.
With the warming climate and growing trade across the realm, the economic gap between the North and southern regions had widened considerably.
Robb rode forward and saluted.
"Lord Gendry."
Gendry returned the gesture.
"It is an honor to meet you."
"And you as well," Robb replied.
Jon Snow then stepped forward slightly.
"My lord… I must apologize."
"According to my mission, I should have returned to Myr after reaching White Harbor."
"But I stayed longer than intended."
Robb immediately tried to interrupt.
"Jon—"
But Jon continued.
"This was Lord Eddard's wish."
"Now that I have seen my brother, I must fulfill my promise."
Robb clenched his jaw.
If Gendry demanded Jon's service, Robb could only obey.
He might even offer thirty northern soldiers in exchange.
But Jon had already made his decision.
Finally, Robb nodded reluctantly.
"Let us proceed."
Gendry gestured politely toward the eastern camp rather than the castle.
Robb noticed immediately.
Behind him, the great direwolf Grey Wind suddenly became restless.
The massive wolf's golden eyes focused on Gendry.
It growled softly.
Then it tried to step away.
Robb frowned in surprise.
This was not hatred.
It was fear.
Gendry understood instantly.
The scent of a dragon.
Direwolves were magical creatures.
Like horses fearing dragons, Grey Wind sensed the lingering smell of fire and smoke.
It was something even a direwolf disliked.
Behind Robb, the Blackfish frowned slightly.
The towering Greatjon Umber seemed ready to speak.
But Robb signaled him to remain silent.
"Go inform my mother," Robb said quietly.
"Yes."
The Blackfish rode away.
Gendry then turned his gaze toward Theon Greyjoy.
The young man immediately stiffened.
"Lord Theon," Gendry said calmly.
"Your father has never written to me."
Theon's face turned pale.
Memories flooded his mind.
He remembered kneeling after the fall of Pyke.
Kneeling before both the stag and the direwolf.
The warhammer hanging from Gendry's saddle reminded him painfully of those days.
"I… the Iron Islands—"
"I hope King Balon is simply forgetful," Gendry interrupted coldly.
"And not deliberately ignoring us."
Theon swallowed hard.
"Yes… my lord."
The Iron Islands were not a trustworthy ally.
And Theon knew it.
The atmosphere grew heavy.
Soon the direwolf banner and the golden dragon-stag banner entered the great camp together.
Gendry rarely stayed inside the castle.
He preferred the military camp.
Robb looked around as they entered.
Rows of knights stood ready.
Each wore dark scale armor polished to perfection.
Thousands of horses filled the camp.
Robb felt a quiet shock.
So many cavalry…
When he had raised his army in the North, he had barely gathered three thousand horsemen.
And their equipment was far inferior.
Part of the reason was simple.
Some northern lords had hidden their best warriors rather than obey his command completely.
Robb sighed silently.
The war ahead would not be easy.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)