"Toot toot toot toot!" The sound of horns woke up the morning light at the Trident River crossing, wild and impatient.
Time was already very tight; the Northerners appeared a few miles away, seemingly ready for a direct confrontation.
"Quick!"
"Quick!"
"Quick!"
Hearing the call to arms, the entire House Lannister contingent sprang into action. Shouts, clashing spears, and neighing horses filled the camp. Knights leaped onto their snorting warhorses, while infantry buckled on their sword belts as they ran.
After receiving confirmed intelligence of a small Northern Army force moving south, Duke Tywin Lannister urgently redeployed a nine-thousand-strong army from his Harrenhal base camp across the crossing to prevent the Northern Army from crossing the Trident River, but this war always felt strange.
Tywin was outside his tent, his squire close behind him.
"Roughly how many men?" Tywin asked.
"Lord, there are roughly a few thousand, at most no more than four thousand. They came under the cover of night, I thought the war would be at noon?" replied Ser Adam Marbrand, the scout Commander, also a distinguished Knight of the Westerlands and a friend of Ser Jaime.
"So few men?" Tywin cursed. "Are these two young men sending so few troops to their deaths?"
"I will devour them," Tywin declared, but a doubt couldn't help but arise in his heart. Baratheon's Bastard clearly controlled Riverrun, with Northerners, Riverlanders, and The Boy Blacksmith's forces; these men could clearly transport more troops. Why choose a light confrontation instead of a large-scale frontal battle?
Tywin already believed that Frey Family would not send troops, but his disdain for Frey and overconfidence led him to suffer the bitter fruit of losing Riverrun. Originally, he had a basis for winning over Frey, as the two families were still relatives.
Tywin's squire helped him into his gleaming golden armor. Tywin was not afraid of this flanking force; he was merely puzzled that the prepared decisive battle felt like punching cotton.
"Tywin, they are here to cross the Trident River, to relieve our ravaging of the Riverlands. This small number of men cannot possibly break through our defenses," Ser Kevan Lannister also wondered aloud.
"That boy Gendry is more cunning than we thought, and his fighting style isn't entirely Robert's headstrong charge," Tywin said. "He is gathering men to devour us all. This vanguard is just a decoy, a group of Old Wolf going to their deaths."
Kevan also remained silent and sullen. He had originally thought that the Young Wolf and the Stag coalition would march directly south, and with the Westerlands' training and equipment advantage, as long as the beheading was successful, the war would be won. However, the war changed too quickly, too fast to react.
"Then shall we attack after they cross the ford?" Ser Kevan asked. "Such a suicidal vanguard should be avoided until their initial momentum wanes."
"It's too late," Tywin waved his hand. "Devour them, otherwise, so many of our troops have been mobilized, yet we don't fight a battle. The army's taxi soldiers morale will surely worsen, we must win."
There was no time for further thought. A pale mist drifted from the night, like long white fingers stretching across the Trident River. Men and horses stumbled in the pre-dawn chill. People hurried to secure saddles, load goods onto wagons, and extinguish campfires.
"Proceed according to our original plan," Tywin ordered Kevan and Addam. The left flank consisted of the Westerlands' irregular troops, with an unimportant Commander, a task originally belonging to the Mountain. The center was commanded by Ser Kevan, mostly infantry. The right flank was entirely cavalry, heavily armored, under the command of Ser Adam.
"I will lead the reserves," Tywin took a reserve force to a slightly higher position on the battlefield. He was a strategic general, not a brave one, and disliked the charge-and-retreat style popular in Westeros, mainly because his personal valor had never been among the most outstanding Knights.
Tywin's military formation, simply put, was solid, orthodox, and rigid, yet lacked variation. The financial resources and centralization of House Lannister were evident here; fighting only required a steady push. Moreover, Tywin was not famous for being a brilliant general; he was initially known as the Iron Hand of the King.
The House Lannister forces formed their ranks. Ser Kevan raised his banner on the central road. Foot archers lined up in three rows, flanking both sides of the road. Longspear formed a square formation among the archers, with infantry carrying spears, swords, and axes behind them. Ser Kevan and his Lords squire were protected by three hundred heavy cavalry.
The war horns sounded, a deep and prolonged wail, like a cold wind from the North, chilling to the bone. The Lannister horns responded immediately, toot—toot, toot—toot, toot—toot toot toot toot toot toot toot, loud and untamed.
As the horn calls gradually faded, the troops charged, and both sides could see each other's banners and dispositions more clearly. The Northerners' banners were varied; this was an army determined to die.
Duke Rickard and Lady Maege rode their warhorses, leading the soldiers forward, with standard-bearers carrying their family banners alongside them. Northerners emerged from all over the hills behind the road; they had a small number of cavalry, most of them hidden behind a wall of shields and Longspear.
Lord Gendry's recently famous golden banner and House Stark's white banner were visible everywhere, fluttering in the wind, soaring above long poles. The red three-headed dragon, the black warhammer crowned stag, the grey Direwolf all seemed to come alive, running on the flagpoles. Then came House Mormont's great bear banner, House Hornwood's moose banner, House Karstark's sunburst banner, Earl Cerwyn's battle-axe banner, House Glover's armored fist...
"My name is in honor of Duke Rickard. I fight for Lord Eddard and King Aerys, against King Joffrey for Lord Gendry and Lord Robb, these two young men. I consider this my last battle," Duke Rickard said to Lady Maege.
"We are old, but thankfully still have some courage left," Lady Maege laughed heartily, clutching her spiked meteor hammer. "Even if we all fall by the river, as long as the Vale's plan succeeds, Tywin will surely hear the death knell."
The North is harsh and cold; sacrifice is the Northerners' awakening. Originally, many Northerners were reluctant to go south. A Long Winter was coming, and marching without stockpiling grain was a big problem. But with Gendry's relief and the Northern Army's streamlining, the Northerners' pressure was greatly reduced. This three-thousand-strong "winter wolf" force no longer expected to return home; they knew what ten years of winter meant.
"Charge, Wolf Pack!" shouted Duke Rickard Karstark, brandishing his greatsword. The direwolf force began its desperate advance.
"Damn it! That Old Frey fool," Tywin, from a small hill, observed the attacking Northern forces through a Myr telescope. Some even wore black scale plate armor and Frey Family's blue steel ring mail, and Frey Family's silver-grey cloaks. It seemed that after Riverrun fell, all this equipment benefited the Northerners, along with some black scale plate armor supplied by The Boy Blacksmith.
The red dragon and the black Stag reappeared in Tywin's sight. Gold, red, and black intertwined before his eyes, filling him with intense indignation.
"I must win this great battle, otherwise, I will die without a burial place," Tywin admonished himself in his heart.
The blazing fires of war ignited as the lion and the wolf clashed. The Northerners first felt a sweep of arrows.
Duke Rickard and Lady Maege roared, leading their "winter wolf" force south. Archers on both sides of the road unleashed a volley of arrows. The Northerners began to run fast, shouting as they ran.
"Take cover!"
"Take cover!" Duke Rickard shouted. He noticed the flying arrows and couldn't help but feel a chill of fear. If they hadn't urgently replenished some equipment at Riverrun, they would have suffered heavy losses due to the equipment disparity.
The Lannister army's arrows rained down on them like hail, hundreds, thousands, innumerable in an instant. Many fell, struck by arrows, their shouts turning to wails. At that moment, a second wave of attack fell from the sky, and archers quickly nocked their third arrows.
"Kill to your heart's content!" Duke Rickard shouted, then he saw the Lannister decoy on the left flank.
"Lady Maege, I see the left flank is a Lannister decoy. These novices and farmers are the easiest to break. I'll give them to you. Regardless of whether we live or die, kill as many enemies as possible. I'll go to the center, you go to the left. If you are lucky enough to survive, go back and look after my Children for me, and find a good man for Alys. As for me, I will not look back," Duke Rickard saw that the left was merely a decoy, but since they were all here to die in battle, they didn't care much.
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