Outside Riverrun, the military camp buzzed with activity. Men shouted, horses whinnied, and banners snapped in the wind.
Under the commands of the Northern lords, Robb's cavalry completed its preparations.
Robb turned and glanced back at Jeyne, Galon, and the others standing atop the walls to see him off.
Then he gave the order.
"Move out!"
Taking the lead, Robb spurred his horse forward and led several thousand cavalrymen along the Red Fork toward the crossing of the Trident.
Only after the army disappeared into the distance did Galon turn toward Blackfish and say:
"Lord Brynden, now that His Grace and Lord Edmure have departed, would it be possible for my men to take up garrison duties inside Riverrun?"
After the battle on Pyke, Galon's original force of seven hundred Glover soldiers and five hundred Skagosi had been reduced to just over eight hundred men.
Combined with the constant marching since then, even the hardy Skagosi were exhausted.
Galon intended to station them inside Riverrun and allow them some much-needed rest.
Hearing the request, Brynden glanced toward the Glover troops camped outside the castle and agreed without much hesitation.
"Lord Galon, I'll have Maester Vyman prepare quarters for your soldiers."
Galon smiled.
"My thanks, Lord Brynden."
Turning toward Ron, who stood beside him, he ordered, "Ron, coordinate with Lord Brynden and bring our men inside."
Ron nodded immediately.
At that moment, Galon turned back to Brynden and made a request no one present had anticipated.
"Lord Brynden, I've heard the Kingslayer is being held in the dungeons. Would it be possible for me to see him?"
Brynden's brows immediately knitted together.
"What do you want with the Kingslayer?"
Galon adopted a thoughtful expression.
"We met before at Winterfell. Though we serve opposing sides, I'd like to speak with him."
"Besides, if I can persuade him to write to Lord Tywin, so much the better."
Brynden paused in thought before finally nodding.
"Very well. I'll accompany you."
Galon shook his head with a smile.
"That won't be necessary. I only intend to exchange a few words with him. It won't take long."
Brynden hesitated.
"Very well, then. I'll inform the guards and have someone take you there."
Galon inclined his head.
Before heading for the dungeons, he stopped by the kitchens and gathered some food.
Carrying a basket, he followed a guard down the cold stone steps leading underground.
After the guard unlocked the iron door at the deepest part of the dungeon, Galon declined any further escort.
Alone, carrying an oil lamp in one hand and the basket in the other, he made his way to Jaime's cell.
In the dim firelight, a tangled mane of golden hair stood out immediately.
Jaime Lannister.
Once the shining star of the Kingsguard.
Now he resembled a lion stripped of its claws and fangs, huddled against a cold stone wall.
Months of imprisonment had left him noticeably thinner than he had been at Winterfell.
Galon slowly opened the cell door, hung the lamp upon the wall, and looked down at him calmly.
"Ser Jaime. It's been a while."
Half asleep only moments before, Jaime's eyes snapped open at the familiar voice.
The instant he saw Galon, a trace of his former sharpness returned.
He surged to his feet—
Only for the chains around his ankles to nearly send him sprawling.
"Hah..."
Breathing heavily, Jaime leaned back against the wall and lowered himself to the floor once more.
He no longer cared to struggle.
Instead, he fixed Galon with an unwavering stare.
His voice still retained some of its old arrogance.
"Well, look who it is." A mocking smile appeared on his lips. "The North's great bear-slayer."
"I heard you were busy hunting sea monsters in the North. What brings you to the Riverlands?
Come to laugh at my misfortune? Or have things gotten so bad here that they need your help?"
His words sounded casual, but they struck directly at the heart of the matter.
"The situation is indeed unfavorable."
To Jaime's surprise, Galon admitted it openly.
"Lord Tywin has secured an alliance with House Tyrell. King's Landing stands stronger than ever. Robb is trapped in the Riverlands, unable to advance or retreat."
Jaime's eyes showed a look of satisfaction.
Just as I thought.
Relaxing further against the damp wall, he said, "So the Young Wolf sent you here to beg for my help?"
"Not quite." Galon shook his head. "The situation may be difficult, but it's nothing I can't handle."
"I came simply to visit an old acquaintance."
Jaime's mocking smile deepened.
Galon crouched down and placed a wineskin and half a roasted steak from the basket before him.
"You probably think I'm lying. But, Ser Jaime, to be honest, I've always admired you."
"Admired me?"
Jaime's expression turned bizarre.
Then he burst into laughter.
"Hahaha...!"
He pointed at Galon and laughed until he was nearly out of breath.
Only then did he stop.
"You admire me? The Kingslayer?"
Galon remained calm.
"The Mad King was a tyrant.
He murdered the Lord of Winterfell and his heir with monstrous cruelty. He demanded that you betray and murder your own father.
And worst of all—he intended to drag hundreds of thousands of innocent people in King's Landing to their deaths with him.
That was an atrocity even the gods could never forgive.
The only reason it didn't happen was because of one courageous sword stroke from you.
You saved countless lives.
How could I not admire that?"
Jaime froze.
Staring at Galon's sincere face, his head slowly lowered.
"Yes... I saved them."
"But I still killed my king...I still broke my vows as a knight of the Kingsguard."
Pain filled his voice.
In the privacy of the dungeon, with no one else present, he suddenly looked up.
"Tell me!"
"Galon, tell me—was I truly wrong?"
The question burst forth desperately.
As if he were begging for someone, anyone, to finally grant him peace.
Galon did not disappoint him.
"A king is not honored because of his bloodline. Rather, the bloodline is honored because of the king.
When the Mad King chose to slaughter his own people, he forfeited the right to rule."
"Ser Jaime." Galon extended a hand toward the man who had spent years trapped in his own guilt. "You did the right thing."
"Even the gods would grant redemption to the man who saved so many lives."
The words struck Jaime like thunder.
Since Robert's Rebellion, he had endured nothing but scorn.
Kingslayer.
Oathbreaker.
Dishonored knight.
Yet now, an enemy had perfectly understood the greatest burden and secret pride he had carried all these years.
The feeling of being understood nearly overwhelmed him.
"You..."
"What exactly do you want from me?"
Though his emotions churned violently beneath the surface, a trace of caution remained.
"You didn't come all this way just to comfort me."
"I want you to write a letter." Galon answered plainly. "A letter proposing peace."
"Peace?"
"That's right."
"I can persuade King Robb to release you. Provided that King's Landing recognizes the Kingdom of the North."
Jaime shook his head immediately.
"Impossible... My father would never agree."
"Then you underestimate your value in Lord Tywin's eyes." Galon's smile carried hidden meaning. "If it means your safe return, Lord Tywin would pay almost any price."
Jaime hesitated.
Deep down, he knew Galon might be right.
At last, he nodded.
"Fine."
"I'll write it."
Soon afterward, a letter written in Jaime's own hand took flight toward King's Landing.
Several days later, just before the raven reached the capital, a small council meeting concerning the Riverlands was convened within the Red Keep.
The game was entering its next stage.
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