The continent of Westeros generally practices a feudal system. The great lords divide their lands among their vassals, who then divide them again among those loyal to themselves. A great lord can command his own vassals, but he cannot command the vassals of his vassals.
A vassal's vassal is not my vassal; a lord's lord is not my lord.
Of course, some eccentric nobles hold more conservative views—after all, a daughter's daughter is still my daughter, isn't she?
Under such a system, Robb only needed to bring a few of the more powerful earls under his control.
"Prepare temporary grounds that can house fifteen thousand men. Have the craftsmen make wagons and tents. Grain and supplies must be readied—we can't expect our vassal lords to bring everything themselves…"
Inside the council chamber, Robb was instructing Maester Luwin on the arrangements for stationing the soldiers when a knock at the door suddenly interrupted him.
"Robb, people from House Seaworth have arrived."
A smile curled at the corner of Robb's lips. "House Seaworth is the first to arrive. That is the purest proof of friendship. I'll go meet him personally."
Maester Luwin reminded him from the side, "House Seaworth is the closest to Winterfell. They can reach it in half a day."
"That doesn't diminish House Seaworth's loyalty."
In the original story, House Seaworth was one of the strongest houses in the North. Its lord, Mechi Seaworth, was gravely wounded fighting for Robb and died from those injuries. His only eldest son, Klei Seaworth, also died in battle while helping Robb retake Winterfell.
They could truly be called powerful, a family of unwavering loyalty.
If such a house were not entrusted with responsibility, should he instead draw close to the scheming Flaying House?
Bringing along his father's foster son Theon and a group of personal guards, Robb went outside Winterfell. From afar, he saw a column slowly approaching, bearing banners of a black axe on a white field.
This force numbered about two thousand men. Roughly three hundred were mounted, with the rest being infantry. At the very front were three figures—two men and a woman—the lord of House Seaworth and his children.
Robb stepped forward to meet them. Looking at the lord of House Seaworth, he laughed loudly in welcome. "Sharpened and ready—House Seaworth's words truly live up to their name."
"The swords of House Seaworth will forever dance for Stark."
Seeing that Robb was merely a fifteen- or sixteen-year-old boy, still smelling of milk, Lord Seaworth couldn't help but feel uneasy.
He was absolutely loyal to House Stark, but war was no child's game. He had heard that this Robb intended to personally lead the campaign. How could a child command an army of tens of thousands? Did he truly have that ability?
Robb nodded. "House Stark will never forget its friendship with House Seaworth. Theon, go help arrange the troops. Lord Seaworth and I have some matters to discuss inside the castle."
Having Theon handle the troop arrangements was also one of Robb's dark jokes. In the future, it would be Theon who killed House Seaworth's eldest son—yet now he had to greet them with a smile.
When they reached the council chamber, only Robb and Lord Seaworth remained. Robb poured a cup of wine for Mechi Seaworth and warmly invited him to sit.
Although Mechi Seaworth harbored doubts about Robb's ability to command troops, he had no hesitation whatsoever about sending forces to aid House Stark. He had brought nearly all the fighting strength from his lands.
"This time, I've brought three hundred cavalry and two hundred standing infantry. The rest of the infantry were temporarily conscripted—mostly farmers' sons and craftsmen. Their combat strength is average at best."
Robb reassured him. "That's fine. House Lannister has been mining gold for hundreds of years—I don't believe they can still muster a force capable of matching the North. The strength of the North's soldiers lies not in their numbers, but in their fighting power."
Seeing Robb's confidence, Mechi Seaworth felt slightly more at ease. With a great war imminent, if the commander were weak and incompetent, one might as well surrender outright and spare some lives.
"Uncle Mechi, you are my father's friend. The friendship between our two houses has continued since the age of the First Men thousands of years ago. So I would like to ask one thing of you, and I hope you won't refuse."
Mechi Seaworth was flattered. "Please, speak."
"I hope you will hand over the command of five hundred conscripted soldiers to me."
In name, Robb could issue orders to Mechi Seaworth and have him lead his men into battle. But Robb could not directly command the soldiers under Mechi Seaworth—they could simply refuse to obey.
What Robb wanted was direct command over those soldiers.
As Robb himself admitted, this request was somewhat excessive. It meant that even if House Seaworth later chose not to fight for House Stark, the nobles and standing troops could leave—but these conscripts would have to stay. Whether they would ever be returned, and when, would depend entirely on the mood of their young lord.
More than five hundred soldiers—this was an extremely valuable asset.
Mechi Seaworth hesitated. He had come to help, not to give away half his family's foundation!
"Uncle Mechi, I need your support," Robb said, looking him straight in the eye. "I swear before the gods that after this war is over, you will receive a satisfactory reward."
After a long silence of contemplation, Mechi Seaworth finally raised his head and looked at this young man whose true worth he still could not fully gauge.
"Alright!"
He said nothing more, for trust and loyalty had already overflowed from that small council chamber.
Robb grasped his hand. "House Stark will forever remember this friendship. There is one more matter I need you to pay attention to. The Flaying House will arrive soon. Although they are sworn to us, their loyalty is the most recent and their ambition the greatest. At this moment, when the North stands at the brink of life and death, I do not trust them. I need you to keep a close eye on their movements."
Robb's words carried a deeper meaning than they seemed on the surface. What he truly wanted was for House Seaworth to investigate the Flaying House as much as possible, and to report immediately if anything seemed amiss.
This time, Mechi Seaworth did not hesitate at all. "I understand."
The atmosphere between the two eased. They spoke of old stories, and the head of House Seaworth recalled the glorious feats of following Ned to overthrow the Mad King. The more he spoke, the more excited he became, almost wishing he could fly straight to King's Landing, cut down Emperor Joffrey and Cersei, and rescue Duke Ned.
Robb felt deeply moved as well. House Stark's foundation in the North was simply too deep. Even if he had nothing at all, as long as he bore the identity of the eldest son of House Stark, countless lords would still be willing to give their lives for him.
In the days that followed, the northern lords arrived one after another. Most of them, like House Seaworth, brought nearly all their strength, not even caring whether their own lands might be raided by bandits or pirates. This was the rallying power of House Stark in the North.
Robb also became busy, meeting each lord in turn, arranging their camps, and mobilizing grain and supplies to maintain logistics.
The original Robb had handled these matters well too, but he had only put on a calm front. In truth, he was panicking inside. After dealing with particularly troublesome issues, he would even return to cry to his younger brother to vent his emotions, then continue to force himself to appear spirited the next day.
In fact, he had already done very well. For a fifteen-year-old child, it was practically a godlike performance.
But the Robb of this moment felt no panic at all. On the contrary, he was thoroughly enjoying the feeling.
Death—he had experienced it countless times. Powerful enemies—he had no idea how many he had personally slain.
But commanding troops and plotting strategies from a thousand li away—this was his first time.
How interesting.
(End of Chapter)