The waters of the Green Fork ran deep and swift, with the twin castles and arched bridge spanning the great river. The golden quartered banner snapped in the wind, looking down on all below.
Gendry, Anguy, Ser Barristan Selmy, Lord Jason Mallister, Lord Bronze Yohn Royce, and the others stood together atop the eastern castle of The Twins.
"Young Lord Robb Stark's party should be here soon," Ser Barristan said.
"With his foolish mother in tow?" Anguy cut in.
"That is harder to say. Lady Catelyn will likely come south as well, considering Great Lord Hoster is now like a candle guttering in the wind," the old knight guessed.
Ser Barristan now wore a splendid suit of armor, gilded on the outside, finely forged, hard as ice and bright as snow. A dagger hung at one hip, his longsword at the other, both suspended from a white belt clasped with gold. Over his shoulders was a white cloak. His helm had a narrow eye-slit, and with stag and dragon as its adornments, it seemed to hold its head high in pride.
Music drifted up from within The Twins as well. The singer had a fine tune, enough to leave a man slightly intoxicated. Even on the battlements, soldiers were softly humming along.
"They don't sing badly," Gendry remarked. Wealthy as The Twins was, it naturally lacked no singers, and one had already composed a song for him.
"The Stag of the Night," Lord Jason Mallister said. "The music is there to praise your victory."
"The stars in the night are the stag's own eyes,
the howling wind is their song.
The stars in the night are the stag's own messengers,
the howling wind is their song..."
"Have them sing louder. Let Young Lord Robb and the Northmen hear it properly too."
"Yes..."
Saving the Riverlands and butchering the Freys would not be enough by itself, Gendry thought.
The Lannisters had been badly mauled, but their main strength still remained. Tywin would draw back his fist, then prepare a fresh army.
The Lannisters already had deep reserves to draw on. They were one of the oldest royal houses, the wealthiest of the great lords, and second only to one realm in population. More importantly, they were centralized. Tywin had been the first great lord to centralize his power so thoroughly. Bloodshed had wiped out strong second-tier houses like the Reynes and Tarbecks, and with Great Lord Tywin's thirty years of steady rule, almost unimaginable in itself, House Lannister had truly been able to command the Westerlands as one.
Tywin would move quickly to spend money and draw over his opponents across the Narrow Sea. By the same logic, Gendry needed to bring new forces onto the stage as well. Whether the Starks would march south, and how many men they would send, was something they would at least have to hear his views on.
"The Freys' wealth has all been inventoried. Though Lame Lothar did not support us, the maester has been obedient enough. And as expected, House Frey really did have a secret treasury hidden in the deep woods, wealth they had accumulated over many years," Bronze Yohn said.
"So the cripple wasn't lying after all." House Frey's stores, grain, bannermen, gold, lands, and all kinds of correspondence had to be brought under control. Blowing open the coffers of a great lord all at once was an unexpected windfall.
"Other than rewarding the soldiers, seal the rest away. We came to save the crossing, not to let the smallfolk starve. And those remaining bandits need to be hunted down as well."
"Yes."
"Yes."
Though Gendry's gains were immense, the cost of rewards was just as great. After three bloody days of battle, the soldiers had to be fed and watered well, and each had to receive gold dragons as reward. As for Bluebeard, who had earned great merit by opening the gate, Gendry rewarded him by letting him take whatever he pleased from the Freys' treasury, enough to fill a single chest. Bluebeard had the good sense to pack it full of gold, then offered thanks over and over.
"Lord Jason will hold the western side, Lord Yohn the eastern side, and Ser Boggs will take men to hold the tower in the middle. For the time being, that is how we'll arrange it." That was Gendry's plan. Seagard lay close to the western side, while the Vale was nearer the eastern. In truth, House Darry would have been an even better choice, but Darry's strength was simply too small.
"Yes."
"Yes."
While they were still speaking, several riders came galloping up to The Twins to report that Robb's delegation was about to arrive.
"Then we should go as well," Gendry said, and headed down from the eastern gate tower to receive the northern visitors.
Gendry set out with Lord Jason, Lord Yohn, Ser Barristan, Anguy, and a hundred gold-cloaked guards.
As a river lord of Riverrun, Lord Jason knew Catelyn, while Lord Yohn had marriage ties with House Stark and could be counted an old family friend. With the Vale lying not far from the North, many Vale lords had good relations with northern lords.
Golden banners streamed in the wind. The soldiers were proud and confident. They had saved the Riverlands and butchered the Freys. They were the stags of the night, victorious in every battle.
Standing atop a small rise, Gendry soon caught sight of white banners, with the gray running wolf of House Stark in the center, followed by the standards of the other northern lords. The Northmen had come south, but for now only a small vanguard had arrived.
Robb Stark appeared. He had reddish-brown hair, blue eyes, and a chin covered with stubble. The Young Wolf had grown a beard.
Robb rode a shaggy gray stallion, with his shield hanging at his side: a wooden shield rimmed with iron, gray and white, bearing the head of a snarling running wolf. He wore a bleached leather jerkin over gray mail, with a sword and dagger at his waist and a fur-trimmed cloak on his shoulders.
Robb was trying to look like a grown man, but he was not one yet. He was strongly built, and in looks he resembled a Tully more than a Stark. Beside him rode his two friends, the bastard Jon and the hostage Theon.
Gendry's gaze swept over the northern army. Some of the lords and picked men had decent gear and armor, but most of the other troops who had answered the call were plainly outdated, still relying on mail, and the North had few cavalry as well. As the climate warmed and trade deepened, the gap between the North and the other great houses had in fact grown wider.
"Lord Gendry." Robb rode forward and offered his greeting.
Robb was studying the visitors in turn as well. Their manner was friendly enough, but they had already taken The Twins. He saw Gendry clad in scale armor dark as endless night, with a cloak of dazzling gold over it. A great spiked warhammer and an arakh hung from his saddle.
Gendry stepped forward as well, with Anguy and Barristan close behind him.
"It's an honor to meet you."
"The honor is mine."
"My lord, I'm sorry I did not return to Myr as scheduled," Jon Snow said awkwardly. By the terms of his mission, he should have turned back after reaching White Harbor, but his love for his family had delayed him for quite some time.
"Jon," Robb started to cut in. If Gendry truly needed men, he could send thirty northern soldiers in exchange for Jon.
"This was Lord Eddard's will. Now that I've seen you, I ought to follow him," Jon said.
Robb could only nod through the pain. With the North marching out, the best help he had was still House Stark. Bastard or not, Jon was still his brother at the very least. He had not expected Jon, like his father, to keep his word so faithfully.
"Come, then." Gendry and Robb exchanged a smile, though Robb's was badly forced.
Not far behind Robb, the great grey wolf Grey Wind also seemed uneasy, wanting to move farther away from Gendry. Gendry had never seen such a huge wolf before, or one with golden eyes.
Grey Wind only grew more agitated at the sight of him, as though he wanted to flee the place entirely. Robb was surprised as well. This was not dislike, but fear.
The scent of dragon, Gendry realized. That was why Grey Wind was so anxious. Direwolves were magical creatures too. Just as fierce beasts could make horses tremble in fear, dragons were the most uncanny and fantastical of them all. Even a direwolf could not endure that smell of fire and smoke.
Gendry made a gesture of invitation, leading them not toward The Twins, but toward the great camp east of the river.
The Blackfish, riding behind Robb, changed expression slightly. Greatjon was just about to speak when someone stopped him, and Robb silenced the matter with a glance. Jon Umber was a huge man, nearly seven feet tall. His body was packed with thick muscle, and he was a warrior who made men shrink back at the sight of him.
"Go inform my mother and the others."
"Yes." The Blackfish turned and rode off.
Gendry cast another glance at the carefree Theon beside Robb. He was a slender nineteen-year-old, with dark brown hair and handsome features.
"Young Lord Theon, your father has never written to me."
Theon flushed scarlet at once. The gleaming golden cloak, the stag on the helmet, and the warhammer strapped to the horse all reminded him of those years of submission, when after Pyke had fallen, he had knelt before stag and wolf alike. Fear washed over him. "As for the Iron Islands, I..."
"I hope King Balon is merely forgetful, and not doing it on purpose." Gendry's words showed no mercy. The Iron Islands were no ally that could simply be soothed and trusted.
"Yes..." Theon did not dare argue. In truth, Balon had never cared whether he lived or died, and never once wrote to him. Theon felt the killing intent around him turn sharp enough to seem almost tangible. The stag seemed to mock his courage. It was the tremor of power and will.
The situation shifted like the rains of a wet season, and the direwolf banner entered the camp together with the golden quartered banner of dragon and stag. Gendry did not normally stay in the castle. He lived in the army camp.
Robb saw the knights in the camp, all clad in fine black scale plate and brimming with fighting spirit.
So many cavalry, Robb thought. Even after raising all the men he could in the North, he had only managed around three thousand horsemen, and their armor and equipment were far inferior. Part of the reason, of course, was that some lords simply would not obey and kept their elite men hidden.