It is easiest to convince an opponent to do something if he sincerely wishes it himself. Just give him reason to cast aside doubt, and he will rush to aid you, sweeping away everything in his path. — Emperor Robb Stark, First of His Name. Instructions to My Heirs.
. . . . .
She entered, surrounded by a numerous retinue, formidable and majestic. Cesare knew from his mother that marriage had taken a toll on his aunt, and now he could see it with his own eyes. Her puffy face was flushed from walking quickly, and her blue dress of Myrish silk did not hide the blurred contours of her figure. She was two years younger than Lady Catelyn, but seemed ten years older.
And yet Cesare could not help but note the confidence with which she held herself. She stopped in the middle of the hall and silently shifted her gaze from one lord to another.
"I did not expect so many traitors to have bred among my vassals," Lady Arryn struck with a backhand, not intending to choose her words.
A moment later, a discordant hum arose from attempts to justify themselves and assure the lady of their devotion to the grave.
"My lady, do not judge so hastily," Lord Royce took the floor. "Allow me to address you on behalf of everyone sitting in this hall..."
"I do not allow it!" shrill notes rattled in her voice. "You have gathered here, at Runestone. For what purpose? To hunt? For someone's wedding or tournament? Oh no, Lord Royce! You did not even bother to invent a pretext for this gathering, so low do you place your liege lord!"
Her blue gaze stopped on Cesare.
"I did not know that Lord Stark is now entitled to call the banners of the Vale," a malicious grimace twisted her small mouth. "Allow me to ask you one question, dear nephew. How would you react if I came to the North and incited your vassals to show direct disobedience? However, do not answer. I recall you punished the Boltons for less."
Bitterness spread in his mouth from annoyance. A few sharp words from this small, ugly woman managed to sharpen all the contradiction of this meeting. The most disgusting thing was that she was right and, judging by the averted eyes and greening faces of the flower of Vale knighthood, they all understood it perfectly. Something had to be done.
"Do not distort the facts, sister: the Boltons made an attempt on the life of their liege lord to please the Lannisters. Their punishment was just."
All attention turned to Lady Catelyn entering the Hall. She walked heavily, leaning on the arm of a lean knight in a red doublet. On her exhausted face, Cesare read cold fury.
"You have the gall to chide me, Cat?!" now Lady Arryn no longer tried to contain the rage tearing her apart. "'Family, Duty, Honor,' remember? You come to your own sister and incite her people to violate duty and betray honor! How low you have fallen!"
Cesare felt his blood slowly boiling. No one dares speak to his mother in such a tone. However, the prepared words did not have time to escape his lips.
"I came to correct your mistakes, Lysa. I do not know if you made them out of cowardice or trusted the wrong person. The Seven see, I am not the one to blame you for this. However, leaving them unattended, you will ruin not only yourself, but the entire Vale and your son."
"Do not dare drag Robert into this!" it seemed she was ready to throw herself at her sister and scratch her eyes out.
"What do you mean, Lady Stark?" Nestor Royce spoke up. "Explain to us."
"Willingly," Lady Catelyn swept her gaze over the gathered lords and knights, not excluding those who arrived in her sister's retinue. "Almost two years ago, I received a letter from Lady Arryn in which she reported the death of her husband and her suspicions of the Lannisters' involvement. It was this that forced my husband, who loved Lord Jon like a father, to accept the post of Hand and go South to clarify this confusing matter and achieve justice for Lord Arryn, if he was indeed murdered."
"You lie!" Lady Lysa screamed, interrupting her sister.
"On your advice, sister, I got rid of the letter immediately upon reading," Lady Catelyn seemed not at all touched by her accusations. "My lords and ladies, recall the trial of Tyrion Lannister that took place more than a year ago in the Eyrie. Many of you were there: you, Lord Royce, and you, Lady Waynwood, and you, Lord Grafton. What charges did Lady Arryn bring against him?"
" The murder of Lord Arryn," Lady Waynwood voiced the general thought. "Lady Arryn was sure of his guilt."
"And not she alone," Lady Stark's features were filled with grim triumph. "And now answer me, Lysa, answer me, my lords and ladies, why are we still here and continue to have this empty conversation? A wife's duty is to seek justice for her husband and protect the inheritance of her children. So why, Lysa, in these two years have you not lifted a finger to avenge the Lannisters? Why allowed the Kingslayer to accept the title of Warden of the East? Is there much use in your denial if Tywin Lannister's words can make black white and cover a crime with law?"
Cesare looked at her in silent admiration. Indignation gave her strength. She no longer needed support and paced energetically around the hall, clasping her beautiful white hands, which Cesare would certainly kiss later, a hundred kisses on each.
Holy heavens, she was magnificent! Nothing she said was a revelation for the knights and lords gathered at Runestone. They had time to come to such thoughts on their own. No, it was all about her, Catelyn Stark, wife of the late Eddard Stark and mother of his children. It was fair to hear such reproaches from her: a wife who went with her son and an army to the South to save her husband, and then continued the fight against his murderers, had the right to shame and accuse.
"My lords and ladies, you all swore a vassal oath to Jon Arryn. Will inaction not be a betrayal of his memory?" she peered inquisitively into the eyes of each gathered person, as if addressing him specifically. "However, you can, like Lady Arryn, rely on the height of the walls and the impassability of the roads. Only, having defeated King Stannis, Tywin Lannister will turn his gaze to the Vale. How long will the high walls hold if monsters like Gregor Clegane ravage and burn the crops? How quickly will the suffering of starving children force fathers to ask for a truce? And will there be much honor in bending the knee before the murderer of your liege lord?"
When she fell silent, Lady Arryn, who had been caustically commenting on her speech all this time, raised her voice again:
"Enough, I'm tired of this. You will go with me immediately to the Eyrie. And all the rest gathered here had better disperse to their homes and prepare castles for winter. I will be merciful, so be it, and will not remember faces or names."
At her command, Arryn guards stepped forward and surrounded Lady Catelyn.
"Allow me, my lady," Bronze Yohn frowned his thick eyebrows. "Lady Stark, as well as her children and retinue, are guests in my house."
Cesare rejoiced. He did not forget to watch other participants of this performance, so he noticed an inconspicuous man-at-arms with the Royce crest on his chest whispering something quietly to the master of the castle. He could not help but note the long glances exchanged by the most influential lords of the Vale. The decision was made.
"And you, my lady, are not my guest," Lord Royce continued, and by how Lady Arryn paled, it became clear: she realized her mistake. "You have traveled a long way and must be very tired. You will be escorted to the chambers allocated to you."
For a moment she hesitated, clearly considering the idea of retreating with a fight, but the forces were clearly not on her side. She scorched those present with a hostile gaze and withdrew, proudly lifting her chin—apparently, counting on the possibility of escape.
Later, analyzing the events of the council at Runestone, Cesare concluded that such an outcome was obvious. It is very easy to convince people to do something they themselves yearn for with all their hearts. This was superimposed by the sharpness of Lady Arryn's accusations, who, of course, would not have forgotten or forgiven anything, and Lady Catelyn's fiery speech. Herein lay the reason for such a quick and unanimous decision of the most influential lords of the Vale and the silent approval of the lesser lords... But then, standing in the middle of the Hall, Cesare felt the strongest delight and the strongest surprise. He was preparing for a long and stubborn struggle with the unexpectedly arrived aunt. The ease with which her own vassals turned against her stunned and frightened him. It was a very dangerous precedent.
"I suppose Lady Arryn needs to marry as soon as possible to avoid such... mistakes in the future," said Lord Royce.
Those present warmly supported him. Neither Lady Catelyn nor Ser Brynden Tully uttered a word against it.
After that, things went faster. Each lord and landed knight expressed his respect to Lord Stark and named how many warriors he could field and in what time frame. They discussed the approximate gathering place and route by which the armies of the Vale were to reach the Crownlands. Unanimously gave command of the joint forces to Bronze Yohn.
It was possible to be alone with his mother only late in the evening, after a long celebratory feast in honor of the alliance. Seeing her settled by the fireplace and stretching thin hands to it, Cesare was again flooded with tenderness and gratitude to this woman. These feelings were so strong that he could not find words to express them, and only looked at the wearily bowed head.
"Father would not approve," Lady Catelyn closed her eyes and pressed her temples as if suffering from a headache. "If he knew about this, he would certainly disown me."
Hearing sadness in her voice was unbearable. Cesare knelt before her and tightly squeezed her hands in his.
"Thank you, Mama. Your love saved me today."
Embarrassed and frightened by his impulse, Lady Stark babbled that her role was not so great and tried to force her son to rise, but he was adamant as a rock.
"If not for your act, I would have returned to Stannis with nothing, which is tantamount to a death sentence," he stood up and still left a short kiss on her wrist. "I will not disturb your rest."
The next day they decided to spend with the family, shifting the clarification of numerous important details to Uncle Brynden. Arya swallowed breakfast without chewing and rushed into the yard with her monster, which had gained weight during the days of wandering.
"She likes it here," Lady Catelyn smiled warmly. "Lady Royce assured me she can look after her until the end of the war."
Cesare took a sip of wine, trying to choose the most delicate words.
"Do you not want to keep her company?"
"Excluded," she cut off. "How many times have I let dear people go and tormented myself for long days waiting for news. I can't take it anymore, Robb. I will go with you and, if necessary, change bandages and sew up wounds, just not to feel this terrible uncertainty again."
Cesare was forced to agree.
Finishing breakfast, Lady Catelyn went to the window and beckoned her son to her.
Arya was playing with Wrath, apparently trying to teach him some commands. She was accompanied by a girl in a yellow dress with a stained hem and disheveled hair. From a distance, they looked like sisters.
"Myranda, Lord Royce's youngest daughter," Mother explained. "Two years older than Arya, but behaves like a mere child. Lucky that Arya finally managed to find a friend."
Or another pet, Cesare thought with bitter irony. Remembering his communication with his sister at Riverrun, he strongly doubted she could be friends with a peer on equal terms.
Perwyn approached them and started a conversation with Arya, fearlessly stroking Wrath on the head.
"That boy Perwyn, she got along well with him too," added Lady Catelyn, but without any enthusiasm. "Even begged him to give fencing lessons."
Cesare bit his lip, feeling a surge of irritation. "That boy Perwyn" was already an adult man, a couple of years older than himself. He would have to transparently hint where he should look for extra body parts if they suddenly give him no peace.
However, brotherly jealousy faded into the background as soon as he noticed a flashing red silhouette.
"Mother, who is that knight in scarlet?" he asked Lady Catelyn, feeling his breathing become difficult. "It seems you came into the Hall with him yesterday."
"Thoros of Myr. He helped us with some difficulties during the journey. Although at first such coincidences seemed suspicious to me, Uncle Brynden turned out to be acquainted with him and convinced me to accept his help."
Gathering rumors about the Brotherhood Without Banners, Cesare had heard stories about a fire priest capable of raising the dead more than once. Previously, such tales would have only caused him a smirk, but after meeting Melisandre, he was no longer so categorical.
Already intending to call a servant to arrange a meeting with this Myrman through him, Cesare stepped toward the door and almost collided with Olyvar running into the room. Without unnecessary words, the squire handed him a letter.
Quickly scanning it, Cesare hesitated for a moment, handed it to his mother, and then squeezed her trembling body in an embrace, feeling tears soaking his doublet. Lord Tully was young and wanted to become famous very much, so during the storming of Duskendale he risked excessively and caught an arrow in the eye.
"Yes, Uncle Brynden," Cesare thought joylessly. "Now you won't wiggle out of marriage."