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In the Riverlands, near a high hill northwest of the Gods Eye, there was a small road leading to Acorn Hall. In the past, the smallfolk of the surrounding villages had used this road to travel to castles such as Acorn Hall and Pinkmaiden.
Now, a crude temporary camp stood on both sides of the road, and spiked barricades blocked the way.
Around dozens of rather worn military tents, hundreds of soldiers dressed like men from the Westerlands lounged about, drinking and chatting. They looked utterly without discipline.
"Gulp. This is the camp of those beasts."
On a high hill not far from the Westerlands camp, Thoros, lying on the ground, lifted his head and drank a mouthful of wine. Then he spoke to Beric and Brienne beside him.
"Hmph. I heard from survivors who were lucky enough to escape them that these beasts were originally a bandit group from the Riverlands.
"Tywin Lannister has spent the last two months recruiting every sort of scum and villain into his army, so they naturally joined the Westerlands army at Harrenhal.
"I heard they have even been holding some kind of killing contest. What they have done recently is bloodier and more brutal than the Mountain's men."
Lying to Thoros's left, Brienne continued the topic. As if remembering something, anger had filled her face by the end.
On Thoros's right, Beric had been watching the enemy camp with his single eye from the start.
Hearing Brienne's words, a gentle smile appeared on his face, which was covered in twisted, bulging blood vessels. He said softly, "Since they have committed sins, they are destined not to escape the judgment of my lord, the Lord of Light. Brienne, you are a brave and upright good person. You may try entering my lord's embrace."
"Forgive me, but I believe in the Seven. And I want to become a true knight."
When Beric once again urged her toward the Lord of Light, Brienne rejected him firmly.
"Heh. I once believed in the Seven as well, and I was also a knight."
Brienne's words reminded Beric of his conversation with Thoros in King's Landing, and he smiled despite himself.
Then his smile slowly faded, and his tone became very serious. "Brienne, I know you originally wanted only revenge, and then to find a worthy and wise king to serve so you could become a true knight.
"Now, after seeing the smallfolk of the Riverlands slaughtered like animals, you have chosen to stand up and help them with us. You are already a brave and upright true knight who protects the weak and innocent.
"Then you can choose to swear loyalty to all the weak and innocent in Westeros, and fight for them."
Gulp.
Hearing Beric say this, Thoros strongly agreed in his heart. He felt those words deserved a drink, so he lifted his head and swallowed a large mouthful of wine.
If even Thoros reacted this way, then Brienne felt Beric's words strike deep into her heart. She pressed her lips together despite herself, unsure whether she should continue taking revenge for Renly as her goal or, as Beric said, fight for the weak and innocent.
"Something is happening in the camp!"
Suddenly, Thoros spoke and drew their attention toward the Westerlands camp.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!
Several Westerlands soldiers lazily guarding the spiked barricades were shot dead by arrows from directly ahead.
Nearly a hundred Riverrun infantry in fish-scale armor rushed to the spiked barricades as the guards were shot, and together they lifted the barricades aside.
Da-da-da!
Hundreds of Riverrun cavalry charged down from another high hill straight toward the temporary camp.
"Stop drinking! Pick up your weapons! Enemy attack!"
A Westerlands officer who had not drunk too much and whose face was flushed heard the hoofbeats, stood, rubbed his eyes, and confirmed the situation. He immediately began yanking at the drunk soldiers beside him in panic.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!
The archers among the hundred Riverrun infantry paid special attention to the clearer-headed enemies such as that officer. One arrow accurately pierced the Westerlands officer's right eye, and blood splashed at once.
As the officer's corpse fell, the blood that sprayed from him happened to splash into the mouth of a Westerlands soldier drunk into unconsciousness.
That soldier licked his lips in a daze and swallowed the blood, perhaps dreaming it was some fine wine.
These Westerlands soldiers, former bandits, had extremely poor training and discipline. When the Riverrun cavalry passed through the spiked barricade, they had not even formed a defensive line.
Fewer than half of them, roughly three hundred men, picked up weapons to fight the nearly one hundred Riverrun infantry. The other half of the Westerlands soldiers were still sound asleep. Facing such convenient enemies, Edmure, at the front of the Riverrun cavalry, was naturally very happy.
Rip! Slice!
Those three hundred Westerlands soldiers had already struggled to fight one hundred Riverrun infantry in formation. Facing the charge of hundreds of cavalry, they had even less chance.
The Riverrun cavalry broke through them as easily as tearing paper. With one charge, at least a hundred enemies had their throats cut or chests pierced.
Seeing this, the remaining two hundred Westerlands soldiers either immediately threw down their weapons and surrendered, or ignored everything and turned to flee.
Under Edmure's leadership, the Riverrun soldiers lost only a dozen men while killing nearly two hundred Westerlands soldiers and capturing almost four hundred.
Of those four hundred, nearly three hundred were captured in their sleep. In any case, by the numbers, this was a glorious victory.
"Lord Edmure, under your leadership, we have won another great victory!"
After the battle ended, Edmure was directing his soldiers with considerable confidence as they cleared the battlefield. A red-haired young man in armor bearing House Piper's dancing-maiden sigil came to his side and flattered him.
"Marq, you deserve the second share of credit. Your scouting reports are accurate every time. That is why we can avoid the main Westerlands army and conduct raids."
Hearing his close friend's words, Edmure accepted the chief credit without hesitation, then smiled at Marq Piper, the acting lord of Pinkmaiden.
That was right. This Ser Marq was the eldest son and heir of Lord Piper, who had fled during the battle to defend Riverrun.
"Over the past month or more, we have taken more than a thousand heads and captured at least two thousand men. I believe no one in Riverrun can question your right to lead its army anymore."
Marq did not continue speaking about his own merit. Instead, he returned to another topic.
"Hmph. Those stubborn old men refused to let me lead the army just because I was captured last time. Truly hateful.
"Last time, our thousands of men were surrounded layer upon layer by Tywin's tens of thousands. Unless we had a dragon, no one could have escaped!"
At the mention of this, anger crossed Edmure's face, and irritation entered his voice.
"Exactly. This time, they should have nothing left to say."
Marq nodded and immediately echoed him.
"Good. Once this place is cleaned up, we will return to Riverrun at once. Make enough noise on our return for everyone to notice."
This temporary camp was already quite shabby. Apart from some army grain and large amounts of poor ale, it held nothing else of value. The Riverrun soldiers quickly finished cleaning the battlefield and took the enemy heads and prisoners back toward Riverrun.
Seeing the battle end so quickly, Thoros turned toward Beric, who was frowning in thought, and asked, "Those beasts have already been handled by Riverrun's soldiers. What do you think?"
"This battle... something about it is wrong. But I cannot say what for the moment."
Hearing Thoros's question, Beric answered.
"The battle was too easy. Even if those beasts lack training and discipline, this is still wartime. How could they drink so much?"
Brienne cut in at the right time and stated her view.
"They are bandits, after all. Perhaps they thought this place was remote and had no important resources, so they acted as casually as usual."
Thoros did not think that deeply. He turned to look at the temporary camp, now in complete disorder, and spoke.
"I remember what was wrong. We attacked this defensive line arranged by Tywin before. When one camp was attacked, the soldiers there sent a signal in the shortest time so nearby camps could come to reinforce them.
"But this camp never sent a signal at all. I do not know whether the attack was too sudden and they forgot, or whether they simply did not know about it."
After thinking for a long time, Beric finally remembered the detail that had felt wrong and immediately blurted it out.
"Beric, could this camp have been deliberately abandoned?"
Hearing this, Brienne asked him uncertainly.
"Deliberately abandoned? Then what is their purpose?
"Do they want their own men to enter Riverrun and open the gate from within during a siege? Or is there another purpose no one knows?"
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