Chapter 170: The Young Wolf's First Battle, Making His Name in the Vale
The Vale, Eagle's Feather River, Griffin Lake
On the shimmering surface of Griffin Lake, the neatly arranged tents and banners on the shore were reflected as if in a mirror.
Within this tightly laid out military camp, soldiers from the various great houses of the Vale moved back and forth, busy with their daily drills and preparations.
Amidst the bustling camp, the atmosphere inside the central command tent was somewhat oppressive, as most of the nobles gathered there had never experienced actual warfare.
It was for this very reason that Littlefinger had entrusted all matters of command to Craster Stone.
At that moment, inside the large tent, Craster Stone, dressed in simple armor, sat before a rectangular wooden table.
His expression was grave, his brow furrowed as if contemplating a weighty issue; they had been stationed here for a long time, yet those fellows to the southeast seemed to show no movement at all.
Craster Stone was now the core of this army, and every decision he made would directly affect the development of the entire war; thus, he currently felt a mountain of pressure.
Spread out before Craster was a massive map, densely marked with various strategic points and enemy positions.
His fingers traced over the map, occasionally tapping a certain location, as if engaged in a silent contest with the enemy.
His gaze shifted between the distance and the map, seemingly trying to find the optimal battle plan within his schemes.
Beside him were several of Littlefinger's allies: Lord Albar Royce of the Gates of the Moon, Lord Jon Lynderly of Snakewood, and Lord Harlan Hunter of Longbow Hall; most of the others from the various families were either knights or heirs.
The knights from Redfort, Heart's Home, Old Anchor, and other castles were in a state of indecision; had Littlefinger not promised them benefits and used the prestige of The Eyrie to suppress them, these fellows would likely have fled long ago.
"Could those guys be afraid of us? Why hasn't there been any movement after all these days?"
A knight from Redfort grumbled in a low voice; although the family messengers had brought news, they didn't dare leave directly under Littlefinger's pressure.
Word was already spreading through the Vale that Jon was about to conquer the region, and many lords were considering turning to House Targaryen; however, because The Eyrie refused to budge, these lords had no choice.
"Our scouts have been patrolling the perimeter, and those fellows indeed show no reaction. However, there is intelligence saying they are on their way; we just don't know when they'll arrive!"
The young Lord Harlan Hunter spoke up; like Littlefinger, he preferred subtle schemes, so he had already arranged for his men to enter Iron Oak City disguised as mercenaries.
"But normally, they should have arrived by now!"
Lord Albar Royce strongly disliked this feeling of waiting; in his view, warfare should be swift and decisive, and being cooped up by the lakeside made him very uncomfortable—he could hardly stand the mosquito bites lately.
"Perhaps that fellow wants to wait until we're impatient. I've dealt with those Northmen before; they fight like a pack of wolves."
Lord Jon Lynderly was very familiar with the Northern army he had once fought alongside; he suspected it might be Northern soldiers coming this time, and he feared fighting those madmen.
"We are the falcons of the Vale, unlike those fellows. This is our home turf; there's no reason we should lose to these outsiders."
After listening to everyone's words, Craster Stone spoke up directly.
He had been contemplating this issue for some time, considering many possibilities, even wondering if the enemy would slip into the Mountains of the Moon and launch a surprise attack on the Gates of the Moon from somewhere else.
However, the patrols and scouting during this period had not yielded a single clue for Craster Stone, making him increasingly unable to grasp the opponent's intentions.
Craster Stone had known about Jon and Robb for a long time; although both were very young, he had never let his guard down. Yet, from the current situation, these two who grew up together were more troublesome than he had imagined.
"That's all for today. Rest early after completing your training. As usual, prepare the hidden sentries; half the men rest early, and the other half rest later."
Craster Stone had been extremely cautious during this time, knowing full well that if the enemy launched a night raid, the army could easily collapse or fall into chaos.
During his time as a mercenary in Essos, Craster Stone had once encountered a night raid by the Dothraki; that night, their force of over a thousand men collapsed instantly.
It wasn't until they escaped the next day that they realized only three hundred Dothraki riders had come; the ones who truly caused their heavy losses that night were their own people.
"Does this really serve any purpose?"
"The forest here is so dense, the enemy's troops shouldn't be able to deploy anyway!"
"The soldiers are truly exhausted after all this time. We are humans, not millstones in a mill; we can't keep operating like this indefinitely, can we?"
Looking at the lords and knights around him who were clamoring with their demands, Craster Stone felt waves of pressure.
Even so, Craster Stone could not yield; if the enemy was waiting for exactly this opportunity, he might very well suffer a defeat.
"The orders must be executed. This is a commission signed by the Lord of the Eyrie, Lord Robin Arryn. I am the commander of this army, and you must obey my orders."
Seeing everyone start again, Craster Stone could only bring up that "milk-drinker" from The Eyrie. Although that little fellow who hadn't even been weaned had no authority to speak of, he was still a trueborn Arryn, and these men had to listen.
After suppressing these arrogant and fierce warriors of the Vale, Craster Stone patrolled until very late before going to rest. As night fell, the area around Griffin Lake sank into silence.
The night was beautiful, but unfortunately, the patrol soldiers who had been persevering for so long were in no mood to appreciate the scenery. They were truly exhausted, and the men who were supposed to relieve them seemed to have no intention of coming over yet.
Thump... crack... ouch...
At that moment, in the wooden-fenced stables on the west side of the camp, a night watchman dozing against a poor-quality wooden rail accidentally broke it under his weight and woke up immediately upon falling.
"Hahaha... Turnip! You're slacking off again!"
The night watchman named Turnip was immediately mocked by a distant companion after scrambling up from the ground.
"Aren't you the same? You're just lucky, hmph!"
Being mocked made the soldier's face turn red.
"You..."
Whinny...
Just as the soldier was about to retort to Turnip, the horses in the stables behind them suddenly became restless.
Crack...
"What was that?"
Sensing something was wrong, Turnip quickly got up. It wasn't clear if it was an illusion, but he felt as if something was approaching.
Fearful, he raised his spear and crept toward a certain spot, while the soldier not far from him also slowly drew closer.
Grrrr...
As the two soldiers approached, a series of terrifying low growls emerged from ahead of them.
"What is—? Urgh... ah..."
Turnip didn't think much of it at first, assuming it was some kind of wild dog, but when his body was directly knocked down by a heavy object, he finally realized something was wrong.
Unfortunately, by the time the soldier reacted, a sharp pain flared in his neck. Then, all his words were swallowed back into his stomach—or rather, stuck in his throat.
Whinny...
Moo... moo...
Awooo...
Guided by Robb Stark, the direwolf Grey Wind directly raided the camp of the Vale coalition. After releasing all the cattle and horses penned within the wooden fences, Grey Wind drove the livestock toward the main camp.
"Enemy attack!"
Wooo... wooo...
The situation was quickly discovered by the patrolling soldiers. Accompanied by shouts and the sounding of assembly horns, the entire camp instantly exploded into chaos.
Many soldiers still in their dreams had no idea what was happening. They could only rush out of their tents in panic, only to be met by stampeding horses, cattle, and sheep.
For a time, the entire camp was in shambles. Large braziers were knocked over by the panicked animals, even directly setting the tents on fire.
Meanwhile, in a forest outside Griffin Lake, the Northern soldiers who had long been prepared watched the chaotic camp ahead with excitement.
In their eyes, this was their opportunity. As long as they advanced step by step, the enemy's defeat was only a matter of time.
Soon, after completing the sabotage, Robb Stark and his special operations squad returned to the area.
Schwing...
As the deadly blade at his waist was unsheathed, Robb Stark's heart was filled with excitement. He truly hadn't expected that just after he proposed leading an army independently, Jon would give him this chance.
Although Robb was still adjusting to the fact that Jon had become his king and cousin, he never intended to miss such an opportunity to prove himself and showcase his abilities.
"Attack!"
"Attack!"
As Robb's command to attack was given, the men around him all let out excited shouts.
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