The crimson firelight flickered across the war tent, illuminating the faces of the assembled lords.
Gendry slowly rose from his seat.
The flames reflected on his strong, handsome face, casting shadows that emphasized the determination in his expression. His eyes—clear blue like the endless sea—were calm, yet filled with ambition.
He looked directly at Lady Catelyn Stark.
"Because of the friendship between the late king and Lord Eddard," Gendry said solemnly, "I will do everything in my power to rescue Lord Eddard's family."
For a moment, the tent fell silent.
Then Catelyn's expression brightened with relief and gratitude.
Hope flickered in her eyes.
The Stormlands possessed wealth and manpower far beyond what the North could easily muster. If Gendry truly committed his resources to helping the Starks, the chances of rescuing her daughters from King's Landing would increase dramatically.
Catelyn understood the values of the North very well. Northerners treasured loyalty and friendship above all else.
But she also knew something else.
These were chaotic times.
And in times like these, gold carried enormous power.
The wealth of the Stormlands was astonishing. Some even claimed it rivaled the riches controlled by the Lannisters themselves—who profited heavily from the trade routes near Myr, Tyrosh, and the Disputed Lands, as well as the golden shipping lanes passing through the Stepstones.
Gendry continued speaking.
"Additionally, among the hostages we captured from the Westerlands are attendants like Willem Lannister, as well as several children from a branch of House Frey that resides in the Westerlands."
He paused slightly.
"These children are relatives of the Lannisters."
"Perhaps these half-grown captives will make the false king and his false queen regent in King's Landing think twice."
In truth, those prisoners were not particularly valuable.
But offering them as bargaining chips would help strengthen the alliance between the Stormlands and the Starks.
It was a gesture of goodwill.
"A minor lord can be sent to deliver the message to King's Landing," Gendry added. "However, the envoy will not speak in my personal name."
Then his expression grew serious.
"But Lady Catelyn, even if negotiations begin… our war will not stop."
Catelyn nodded, tears glistening in her eyes.
"This is already more kindness than I dared hope for."
She bowed her head deeply.
"Thank you, Your Grace."
Nearby, Ser Brynden Tully placed a comforting hand on his niece's shoulder.
"Little Cat," he said gently, "this is the nature of war."
He sighed quietly.
"The gods above toy with us all."
The Greatjon suddenly slammed his fist onto the table.
"So much talk of diplomacy!" he roared.
"What about our battle plans?"
His booming voice shook the entire tent.
"I'm itching to drive my sword straight into the Lannisters' guts and kick them back to Casterly Rock!"
Several Northern lords laughed loudly in agreement.
Count Jason then spoke up thoughtfully.
"There are many crowns in the south right now," he said.
"But sooner or later, we must choose a direction to strike."
Gendry nodded.
"Anguy," he said calmly. "Bring the map."
The archer stepped forward and unrolled a large leather map across the table.
The gathered lords leaned closer.
The political situation of Westeros spread before their eyes.
The Vale remained silent.
The North had already marched south.
The Riverlands were in ruins, with many cities having fallen to the Lannisters.
Their immediate task was clear.
They needed to combine the armies of the North and the Riverlands into a single fighting force.
Gendry pointed to the area near Harrenhal.
"I understand everyone's eagerness," he began.
"But Tywin Lannister commands nearly twenty thousand soldiers."
"And most of them are elite troops."
"If we want to completely destroy that army, we must field a force even larger."
After leaving the Riverlands, the land stretched into vast plains.
It was perfect terrain for large-scale warfare.
The Greatjon slammed his fists together.
"If we combine our armies, we'll have numbers equal to that old bastard Tywin!"
His massive frame made the table tremble.
Roose Bolton nodded slowly.
"I've noticed something interesting," he said quietly.
"Most of the Stormlands banners are elite cavalry."
"Some are even from the Claw Peninsula, the Vale, and lands across the Narrow Sea."
He glanced at Gendry.
"The North lacks cavalry."
"But if our armies combine…"
"We will have enough mounted troops to challenge Tywin."
This had been the Northerners' greatest concern.
Their southern campaign included roughly 18,000 infantry and 4,000 to 5,000 cavalry.
Tywin's army alone contained 7,500 cavalry among its 20,000 soldiers.
Even if they called upon the remaining Riverlands forces, those troops were mostly survivors of previous defeats.
Their strength was unreliable.
Gendry folded his arms.
"A losing battle must never be fought."
Even victory would mean little if the cost was too high.
"A Pyrrhic victory is still defeat."
He tapped the map again.
"South of the Green Fork is almost entirely flat terrain."
"If we fight Tywin there, casualties will be enormous."
"And since our numbers are only equal, we won't have the initiative."
An elderly knight nodded in agreement.
"His Highness speaks wisely."
"Summer will eventually end."
"And if the coming winter is long and cruel…"
"The North cannot afford to lose so much manpower."
The Northern lords all fell silent.
They understood the truth behind those words.
The North was the land most affected by winter.
Their soldiers were not professional standing armies.
They were farmers.
Fishermen.
Shepherds.
Innkeepers' sons.
Tanners.
Merchants.
When their lords called for war, these ordinary people left their homes to fight.
If too many of them died…
Fields would remain unplanted.
Trade would collapse.
And famine would follow.
Robb Stark nodded slowly.
"Even if we gather all our forces," he said, "it will take time."
"By then, Tywin may choose not to fight us at all."
Robb had once considered a bold strategy.
Roose Bolton would lead the infantry and pretend to represent the entire Northern army, drawing Tywin's attention.
Meanwhile, Robb would lead the Northern cavalry on a flanking maneuver to ambush Jaime Lannister—the Kingslayer.
Roose nodded thoughtfully.
"Caution is Tywin's nature."
"With his well-equipped army, he has no need for risky tactics."
Gendry smiled slightly.
"Even though the Lannisters are well equipped…"
"I intend to supply the North with equipment from Myr."
Several Northern lords immediately leaned forward.
"Are you talking about the black scale armor?"
"The beautiful kind?"
Gendry chuckled.
"Yes."
"But unfortunately…"
"There isn't time to produce it now."
He pointed to the map again.
"Tywin's military position resembles a snake."
"The head lies near Harrenhal."
"The body stretches through the Westerlands."
"And the Riverlands lie between."
Ser Marq nodded with sudden understanding.
"So we attack their supplies."
Robb's eyes lit up.
"Or we trap that army."
"Preferably in the Riverlands or the Westerlands."
Gendry nodded approvingly.
"If Tywin follows conventional tactics…"
"Then we will fight unconventionally."
He traced a line across the map.
"A force should remain along the Green Fork to draw Tywin's attention."
"The Riverlords will block the Red Fork."
Then he said something unexpected.
"My main strategic direction… is neither King's Landing nor Casterly Rock."
"It is the Vale."
The tent suddenly grew quiet.
"The Vale?"
Catelyn, Robb, and Brynden exchanged uneasy looks.
They all knew what that meant.
Lysa Arryn.
Catelyn's sister.
Her position would inevitably be challenged.
Bronze Yohn Royce remained calm.
Many Vale lords had already grown deeply dissatisfied with Lysa's rule—and her suspicious closeness to Littlefinger.
In most kingdoms, an isolated widow ruling through a young child would have triggered rebellion long ago.
The patience of the Vale lords was remarkable.
Catelyn spoke hesitantly.
"Lysa… she…"
Brynden interrupted with a heavy sigh.
"That's enough, Cat."
"She must be restrained."
He had read his brother Hoster's letter.
If Lysa or Littlefinger truly knew the truth behind Jon Arryn's death, the matter had to be resolved.
Rickard Karstark spoke bluntly.
"My lady, this is war."
"Women cannot understand such matters."
"We must avenge the king and Lord Eddard."
Gendry looked toward Brynden.
"Lord Brynden."
Brynden smiled bitterly.
"If everyone returns to the Vale, how could I stay away?"
"If Lysa truly did what we suspect…"
He closed his eyes briefly.
"Then House Tully cannot protect her."
Gendry nodded.
"Personal feelings cannot interfere with great causes."
Roose Bolton's eyes gleamed.
"If we win the Vale to our side…"
"The situation will resemble Robert's Rebellion."
"The Hawk, the Wolf, the Fish, and the Stag—united."
Those four symbols represented the great houses:
House Arryn.
House Stark.
House Tully.
House Baratheon.
When those powers moved together, they could shake the entire realm.
Robb studied the map quietly.
Now might be the perfect moment.
If Lysa and Littlefinger were truly responsible for Jon Arryn's death, then removing them was unavoidable.
All eyes turned toward Brynden.
The former Knight of the Bloody Gate knew the Vale better than anyone present.
"The Vale campaign will begin soon," Gendry declared.
Brynden nodded.
"If you need me…"
"I will join you."
Finally, Gendry spoke again.
"However, we must still divide our forces."
"The North and the Riverlands will send one army to the Red Fork as a cavalry reserve."
"Another force will hold the Green Fork to distract Tywin."
Robb whispered quietly.
"Winter is coming."
He remembered his father's words.
His father's calm authority.
His father's warnings about the long winter ahead.
Rickard Karstark suddenly stood up.
"In that case…"
"We will choose soldiers who have no homes."
"No wives."
"No children."
"Second sons."
"And the elderly."
His voice grew louder.
"They will form the Direwolf Force."
He thumped his chest proudly.
"And I will lead them."
Lady Maege Mormont stepped forward.
"Then I will join as well."
The weight of the crown…
The burden of war…
Sometimes demanded sacrifices no one wished to make.
And yet—
The North would endure.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)