After leaving the Eyrie, Euron Greyjoy led six thousand elite Ironborn straight for the Twins on the banks of the Green Fork. He and House Frey, the rulers of this crossing, had a blood feud that ran deep.
The bad blood went back years.
It started with a chance encounter at the Inn at the Crossroads. When Frey knights insulted Lysa Tully, swords were drawn. In the ensuing melee, Euron personally cut down over a dozen Frey knights, staining the floorboards red.
House Frey held a grudge. Later, when Euron was escorting Princess Elia Martell by ship to Dorne, the Freys attempted an ambush at sea, intending to send him to a watery grave. Their malice was naked and undeniable. In the end, however, those Frey men simply vanished from the world, never to be heard from again.
More recently, at the Tourney at Harrenhal, a Frey knight had tried to play dirty in the joust, attempting to kill Euron against the rules. Fortunately, Euron saw through the trick and killed him in retaliation.
Now, Euron was marching personally on the Twins, the seat of the man known to the world as "The Late Lord Frey."
This was by no means a friendly visit. Euron was coming to settle the ledger and close the book on this long-standing enmity.
As he led his army toward the Twins, Euron had already calculated the odds.
If that old, cunning weasel Walder Frey had the sense to open his gates when the Northern army arrived, leaving Euron with no excuse to vent his anger, then so be it. But if that old man tried to play both sides, wavering between the Northern coalition and the Iron Throne...
Euron stroked the hilt of his blade, a cold light flashing in his eyes. Then Lord Frey could not blame him for being ruthless. He would clear the old debts and the new in one bloody stroke.
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The Twins
Also known as the Crossing, it was the ancestral stronghold of House Frey, dominating the Green Fork of the Trident in the Riverlands.
The fortress was unique, consisting of two identical, massive castles on opposite banks of the swift river, connected by a wide, heavy stone arch bridge. The bridge was magnificent, broad enough for two wagons to pass abreast. Standing tall in the middle of the span was the "Water Tower," a fortress within a fortress that acted as an unsleeping sentinel, firmly choking this vital throat of the river.
For six hundred years, the Twins had been the foundation of Frey power. They amassed immense wealth by exacting heavy tolls, for anyone wishing to cross the river had no other choice for days of travel in either direction. Thanks to wealth that rivaled the great houses and a family tree that branched endlessly, House Frey commanded four thousand spears, making them the most powerful—and most feared—bannerman under House Tully.
The name "The Twins" came from the two castles staring at each other across the water. Both boasted high curtain walls, deep moats, and heavy oak-and-iron gates. A wooden drawbridge on each side was always ready to cut off the connection to the land.
As the transportation artery connecting the North and the Riverlands, the Twins was the only crossing point on the Green Fork for hundreds of miles. It sat squarely on the most direct route from Winterfell to Riverrun, giving it undeniable strategic value. It had taken the Freys three generations to turn the original wooden forts into the impregnable stone colossus it was today.
If the Northern army wanted to march south to strike at King's Landing, the Twins was an iron lock across their path.
Detouring would not only cost weeks of marching but would also exhaust the troops and lose the element of surprise. Furthermore, if they ignored the Twins, once the war dragged on, this fortress could launch a fatal strike from their rear at any moment.
Euron hated potential threats. He preferred to strangle any instability in the cradle. Moreover, he was thoroughly sick of Walder Frey's perpetually scheming face and his treacherous nature.
So, when Euron's Ironborn army arrived outside the Twins like a moving curtain of black iron, carrying the salty scent of the sea and cold killing intent, a storm to settle old scores and terrify the weak began to gather over the Green Fork.
Euron sent no envoy to demand entry, nor did he show any intent to parley. He simply led his Ironborn to set up camp on the riverbank silently and efficiently. Black tents spread like poisonous mushrooms after rain, and the Golden Kraken banner snapped grimly in the river wind.
Meanwhile, on the battlements of the Twins, old Lord Walder Frey appeared in the middle of the stone bridge, surrounded by a swarm of sons and grandsons. His rheumy but shrewd eyes peered through the crenels, looking down maliciously at the ominous camp on the riverbank. When his gaze locked onto the ferocious Golden Kraken, the wrinkles on his face deepened with bone-deep hatred.
Old Walder was a man who sought vengeance for the smallest slight, and time had not washed away the blood debt in his heart.
Four of his direct descendants—two sons, a grandson, and a nephew—had died at the hands of Euron Greyjoy. That hatred was buried deep in his heart like venom, never forgotten for a moment.
Ser Stevron Frey—Walder's eldest son and heir—stood on the high wall, looking anxiously at the Ironborn camp that looked like a black sore on the land. He turned to his gloomy-faced father and asked in a low voice, "Father, these squids... camping right under our walls. What do they want?"
Lord Walder's gaze swept over the flying Kraken banner like icy river water. He hissed through his teeth, "Hmph. The wolf pups from the North are almost here. Euron Greyjoy is waiting here to see what we choose—do we open the gates and let Eddard Stark crossing, or do we bar the gates and keep them north of the river? He's forcing us to show our hand. He wants to know if the Twins will join the rebels or stay loyal to the Iron Throne!"
Ser Stevron's brow furrowed deeper. "Then... Father, which side should we join? Or... should we wait and see? But the orders from King's Landing are to intercept the Northern army with all our strength..."
"Intercept?" Old Frey let out a sharp, mocking cackle, glancing at his son with heavy scorn. "We have four thousand men, counting every scullion and stableboy. The Northern host is ten thousand strong! You tell me, apart from this bridge and these walls, what do we have to stop them? Are we going to fill the moat with the heads of your brothers and nephews?"
Stevron choked on his words, hesitating. "So... we just let them pass?"
"Fool!" Lord Walder slammed his cane onto the stone, his voice rising in irritation. "Let them pass? If the Mad King in King's Landing hears of it, how will he look at House Frey? If... and I say if... Aerys wins this war and comes for the reckoning, will we still be sitting comfortably as lords of the Twins?!"
His question echoed off the walls, filled with the anxiety and calculation of a man trying to survive in the cracks between giants.