"You're saying The Twins have fallen into enemy hands?" Tywin said.
"Yes, my lord." Jared Frey's voice was numb with exhaustion. On the chest of his torn surcoat, soot and dust had blurred House Frey's twin-tower sigil.
The lords and commanders Tywin had summoned all fell silent, listening as Jared recounted what had happened. Firewood crackled in the hearth, painting their faces a fiery red.
Tywin was both enraged and furious. He had spent so long locked in struggle at the Green Fork, thinking he could cut off that Stark whelp's march south, only to receive one disastrous report after another. First Riverrun, and now The Twins.
"How is that possible? Hasn't The Twins always been as solid as a fortress? How could it have been defeated so badly?" Ser Harys Swyft asked. He was an aged knight, Kevan's father-in-law. Ser Harys was a chinless old man, loose-muscled and bald, with only a ludicrous little tuft of white beard.
The sight of the old coward soured Tyrion's mood at once. Ever since hearing news of his brother, the man had been slandering him. The greatest accomplishment of his life was marrying his daughter to Tyrion's uncle and thereby attaching himself to House Lannister.
"There was no better way around it. Lord Walder may have grown careless, but the enemy's moves were indeed vicious and underhanded."
"My lords, Ser Kevan is right," the Weasel said mournfully. "My father had actually prepared more than enough troops. We had a thousand elite men in each of the two castles, east and west of the river, and in the eastern camp we also had sellswords, farmers, and free knights who had answered the summons. Those four thousand men had been gathered precisely to defend against the Starks. But the Stark army had no ships, and we'd heard no news of them approaching, so we did relax a little. The timing of the enemy's move also caught us completely off guard. Earlier, we heard Riverrun was being besieged, and that Marq Piper was harassing the Lannister supply train, but he only had a few dozen men... At the time, when we saw Marq arrive, we really thought Riverrun had already been sealed off completely, so we meant to get Marq under control first..."
Tyrion wanted to laugh, but didn't. The old weasel talked about defending against the Starks, but no one could say for certain which side he was really planning to support. Still, both Tyrion and Tywin had judged that the Freys were most likely to side with the Lannisters.
"Where were your scouts? Don't tell me they saw nothing and sent no warning," Tywin asked coldly. Firelight cast a sinister orange sheen across his skin and left deep shadows beneath his eyes.
"Our scouts... we may indeed have had too few of them, because we never expected the enemy to attack from west of the river. Most of the scouts were on the eastern side. And the few who came back said they'd found nothing."
"Useless," Tywin snapped.
Great Lord Tywin swept his gaze around the room. At that moment, he found himself missing his two dogs, the Mountain and Amory. There were not many rabid hounds in the Seven Kingdoms who inspired terror the way they did, especially the Mountain. If the Mountain had been here, he would probably have suggested chopping off the heads of a few Frey scouts. The thought only deepened Tywin's hatred.
A golden glint flashed through Great Lord Tywin's eyes. If The Twins had fallen, then the northern army's advance south would become far easier.
"You said they had help from inside, and launched a night attack?" Ser Kevan asked.
"Yes." Ser Jared nodded wearily. "Marq Piper and those sellswords were the inside men. They arrived at The Twins in a miserable state, carrying Hoster's handwritten letter and crying out in distress. My father thought Ser Jaime's attack had struck like thunder, and that House Tully must already be at death's door, so he didn't think too much of it. Who could have known that everything would go wrong that very night?
That sellsword, Bluebeard, led a few dozen men, cut down some of the gate guards, and opened a side gate, allowing the enemy's main force to charge in. The enemy attacked on two fronts. By the time our men realized something was wrong, enemy cavalry had already burst into the western castle, while Seagard's soldiers crossed over in small boats by way of The Twins' arched bridge and seized the Guardian River Tower and the inner gates on both sides of the bridge. The Twins was thrown into chaos in an instant. At the time, I was in the eastern castle. We heard the fighting, saw flames rising from the western castle, and heard the catapults rumbling from the west, but there was no way to reinforce them. All I saw was Seagard's soldiers charging at the archway with swords and torches, fighting desperately for it. Once the west fell, the east was in danger too. Those rabble in the eastern camp weren't there to fight a proper battle at all. They started looting instead. The farmers heard things were going badly and scattered in a panic."
"Those damned sellswords," Kevan cursed angrily. "Men who fight for money only ever risk their lives for their purses. I warned Jaime about them long ago. I just never imagined those sellswords would go so far as to swindle The Twins."
"And old Frey?" Tywin asked.
"He was probably taken under control, along with my eldest brother. But Hosteen and Black Walder are definitely dead," Ser Jared said with a mournful face.
Is Old Frey an idiot? Tyrion thought. But perhaps it was only fitting. The man had spent his whole life loving opportunism and caution alike. The old weasel had always stood still as a mountain, hoarding his strength, only to have his home stolen by an even more treacherous tactic.
"After that, our eastern castle fell to the enemy as well. Our men were desperately holding the inner gate at the eastern end of the arch bridge. We had already formed a spear wall to hold them there, but the enemy's heavy infantry advanced in column to support Seagard and came at us from the west. I saw Blackheart Gendry's golden quarter-banner and House Mallister's eagle standard, and I think there were banners from Runestone and Crackclaw Point as well. But the most terrifying of all was the young man leading them. He was tall and savage, like a bloodthirsty giant. I never crossed blades with him myself, but I heard Black Walder and the others all died by his hand. It seems even Ser Jaime was ambushed by that brat."
"So it was him after all." A flicker of anger crossed Flement's face. He wore a silver-and-purple surcoat, and his father had also died beneath Riverrun, the commander of the company that fell into the water and drowned.
"Lord Jason has taken my family's tower, and Bronze Yohn, Ser Barristan, I'm sure there were even some Crackclaws serving that bastard."
Runestone, Crackclaw Point, Seagard. Tyrion turned those names over in his mind. Unfortunately, every one of those houses came from remote, hard-to-reach places. The Mountains of the Moon made it impossible for a large army to enter, while Crackclaw Point was a barren, desolate land where any force that marched in would be swallowed by swamps and harried by guerrilla attacks. The Lannisters had no easy way to project their power there. If anyone was most experienced at taking beatings, it was still the Riverlands.
"All right, Ser Jared, step down and get some rest first," Tywin said, dismissing the frightened little weasel. Great Lord Tywin sat with his fingers laced beneath his chin. As he listened to the report, only his eyes moved. His face was so still it looked like a mask. But the Imp noticed the fine beads of sweat on his father's brow.
"Lord Tywin, only you can save The Twins," Jared Frey wailed, though he still withdrew.
"This is disastrous," Ser Kevan's father-in-law wailed again. "Ser Jaime is gravely wounded, the army besieging Riverrun has collapsed, and now The Twins has fallen to the enemy... We're staring calamity in the face."
"There's no need for you to say what everyone already knows. The urgent question is what we do next, Ser Harys," said Ser Adam Marbrand, who commanded Tywin's scouts and was also a close friend of Ser Jaime's.
"In my view, we should sue for peace. Jaime is badly wounded, and his army has completely fallen apart. They've either been killed, captured, or scattered. House Tully is already finished, and if House Stark joins this front as well, then our supply lines will be cut completely and we'll lose contact with the west. They could even march straight on Casterly Rock, and who would be able to stop them? My lords, we've been defeated. We need to think about making peace at once."
"Peace?" Tyrion filled his cup to the brim, drained it in one gulp, then hurled it away. The empty goblet shattered into countless fragments. "Ser Harys, this is where peace gets you. Some things cannot be settled that way. We might still be able to talk terms with the Stark brat, but that ambitious man and that little Smith. Can the Iron Throne fit two arses on it? He's bound to fight us to the bitter end for the rights he believes were his from birth, just like his uncle Stannis. And as for Stark, my dear nephew just decorated the Red Keep with Lord Eddard's head. I doubt even the Starks will negotiate with us now."
"The outcome of two battles doesn't decide an entire war. We haven't lost yet, and I'd be more than happy to measure swords with this pack of brats," Adam said. He was Jaime's friend, and like Jaime, proud by nature.
"Perhaps we can try opening talks with the Starks first. We do have hostages in our hands."
"That may be true, but we've also got Eddard's rotting head. Do you think the Starks will agree?" the Imp said sharply.
"But at least we still have two she-wolves. We can use them to steady the Stark boy for now," Lefford said hopefully.
"In my opinion, we should march at once."
"Our friends at court should be willing to send us reinforcements," Ser Harys said. "At the same time, we ought to send men back to Casterly Rock to raise a new army."
"Leave. All of you, leave." At that moment, Tywin rose to his feet, and his voice cut across the room like a blade through grease. No one spoke again.
"No, Tyrion, you stay."
"Kevan, you stay too. Everyone else, get out."
The Imp had seen a fair amount in his life, but this kind of treatment was new even to him. So he got to enjoy it himself for once. Then Ser Kevan crossed the room and walked over to the wine cask.
"Uncle, would you mind?"
"Take it." Great Lord Tywin handed his own cup of wine to the Imp. It had not been touched.
The Imp was flattered enough to be almost overwhelmed, so all he could do was drink.
"In truth, the situation is not as bad as you imagine," Tywin said cryptically, then sat back down. "As for the Starks, you were right. If Eddard were in our hands, we could use him as a bargaining chip to bring peace with Riverrun and Winterfell. That would have meant a truce. That little Joff truly acted recklessly. We could have cleaned things up and then dealt properly with those three Stormborns."
The Imp naturally knew who the three Stormborns were: Robert's two brothers and Robert's bastard.
"But Joff..." The Imp cleared his throat. "He's still a child. Children are bound to do foolish things."
Tywin looked at the Imp. "Yes. Fortunately, he didn't marry a whore."
The Imp burned with anger, wanting to splash the wine straight into the old man's face, but he held himself back.
"But luckily, and I do mean luckily, Eddard's iron mouth won him a way to live."
"What?" Tyrion was stunned. "Then the one who confessed in front of everyone...?"
"A fake. But the act became real enough. Ah. Your sister can't even control her own son."
"Even so, at least things aren't as bad as we thought," the Imp said with a grin. "But how exactly are we supposed to announce that Lord Eddard has come back from the dead? People will only say the real Eddard is already dead."
"That is a problem."
"Our realm is already crawling with kings," Tywin declared. "Renly has already proclaimed himself the new king at Storm's End."
Tyrion was a little puzzled. That still made only one king, and Renly had merely moved the fastest.
"In fact, it's more than that. That bastard Smith has long been the king of Myr and Tyrosh. Now he refuses to call himself king and instead styles himself the lawful heir, but in truth he is already a king. That is just his little game. And then there is King Balon."
"This truly is dreadful," Ser Kevan said with a sigh.
"Let me think. There really are kings everywhere," the Imp said with a trace of malicious amusement. "The King of Storm's End, the rightful heir Little Blacksmith, the King in the Red Keep, the King of the Iron Islands. Oh, and those lords who have never obeyed the Iron Islands in the first place. The Roses, the Direwolves, the Falcons, and the Dornish, who hate us most of all."
"Enough," Tywin cut him off. "I will not let our cause be ruined."
Though little Joff had taken the throne as king in the Red Keep, all he truly controlled were the Crownlands and the Westerlands.
"My daughter has ordered us to turn back for King's Landing, to reinforce the Red Keep against Renly and the Knight of Flowers, and against Little Blacksmith." Tywin's lips were thin, the mark of his coldness. "And note this well. The order comes in the name of the King and the Small Council."
"King's Landing..." the Imp mused. "When the moment comes, we'll have to make a choice. King's Landing has no army, only the Gold Cloaks. Does our little Joff know any of this?"
King's Landing was like a slab of meat caught in the middle, enemies on every side, its front stretched far too thin.
"Cersei thinks he mustn't be told yet. Otherwise he'll insist on leading the royal army himself and killing Renly first. Though right now, the one he hates most is his bastard brother."
"Let him think whatever he likes. These are all the troops we have. Is King Joffrey really planning to march out with the City Watch?"
"That is exactly what he claims," Great Lord Tywin confirmed.
"If King's Landing loses the Gold Cloaks, then Stannis is right there on Dragonstone."
"Yes." Great Lord Tywin looked at his dwarf son. "Tyrion, I used to think you were born for nothing but foolery. It seems I was wrong."
The Imp smiled. "That almost sounds like praise, Father. But what is Stannis supposed to do? His brother and his nephew have both begun to move. With his brother declaring himself king and his nephew striking out on his own, is this uncle just going to sit there and wait?"
"That is also one of our opportunities. A civil war between the three Storms," Tywin said. "Renly has offered Stannis a very clever proposal, and on the surface it sounds excellent. Let Edric marry Stannis's daughter. Given Stannis's age, and the state of things between him and his wife, I doubt he will have any more children. It is a good idea. What Renly lacks is a fleet, while Stannis, after all, does not have many soldiers."
"I originally thought Stannis was the greatest threat, but Robert's bastard has a few tricks of his own. He lacks neither popularity nor victories. The only thing he lacks is age."
"Would Stannis really agree to that?" Ser Kevan frowned. "That man has always been like cold iron."
"If it comes down to a legitimized bastard and an uncle, that alone is enough to spark a dispute. Who exactly gets to sit on that cold Iron Throne?" the Imp said, analyzing the situation. "A pity Stannis still hasn't made a move."