Chapter 20: The Road to Bitterbridge - Part 3

Courtyard of the Red Keep, the day after the massacre of Bitterbridge

"They say they razed Bitterbridge and slaughtered every last soul!"

"What a despicable man that Tywin Lannister is!"

"Are we safe here in this city?"

As he walked through the courtyard to meet with Robert Baratheon, Hoster Tully could not help but overhear the discussion of the small folk servants littered throughout the castle. Each time he heard the servants discuss the matter, his mind grew more turbulent.

Rumours are running rampant. This will not end well once word reaches Mace Tyrell's ears. If he joins up with Quentyn Martell and the Ironborn, they will become a frighteningly powerful alliance with the power to divide Westeros itself in two halves. Mace holds the next crucial move. What will he do?"

As he reached the chambers of the new king, the guards stood rigidly outside, perspiring even in the cool weather of the morning. A moment later, he realized why as he could hear the sound of the new king in now one of his infamous tantrums. Sighing, he entered the chamber and found Grand Maester Pycelle and Varys standing at one side, looking rather downcast, while Lord Lyn Corbray, the commander of the Vale looked incensed. Greatjon Umber, the commander of the Northern army also looked troubled. Conspicuous by his absence was Tywin Lannister. Robert Baratheon was in a corner ranting and raving in anger, muttering curses which were frankly unspeakable.

"Something I missed?" Hoster asked glibly as he made his way into the room. At his voice, Varys noticeably perked up while Pycelle gave a sigh of relief.

"My Lord Hand, we have received new information which has placed all of us in a quandary," Varys replied facilely while Hoster arched an eyebrow in surprise.

"Anything that can make you ignore Tywin's indiscretions must be of great import indeed!" Hoster chuckled allowing himself a brief moment of levity. Sobering himself quickly, he turned towards the eunuch.

"What is it?"

"The Dornish have taken Lord Arryn captive, and have set their own terms of peace, which are totally different from the one's that we had sent earlier," Varys replied simplistically while Hoster's jaws dropped, literally.

"That explains a lot, actually," Hoster replied after getting himself under control only through supreme effort. "How did we come to know of this?"

"Lord Royce," Lyn Corbray spoke out, "was permitted to leave Dorne, but Myriah Martell denied him the use of any ravens from Sunspear or that of any of the keeps in Dorne to send us a message! Lord Royce was forced to ride to Plankytown non-stop for nearly three days and then take a ship from there and sail to the nearest friendly keep, which was in the Crownlands. He could not take the risk of sailing to the Reach, as their water's are still infested with Ironborn. All in all, it took eleven days for him to reach a friendly keep and make use of their ravens, and then another three days for the ravens to reach here. All in all, it took two weeks for us to learn of this!" the Vale lord was quite agitated, and rightfully so. This was not good news. Not at all.

"Did they break guest right?" Hoster asked after contemplating the news he heard in silence for a few minutes.

"No, Lord Royce was emphatic on that point," Pycelle replied quietly from the corner. "The Dornish under the command of Lord Yronwood made it clear to Lord Arryn apparently. If Lord Arryn wished to meet with Myriah Martell, then he would have to forego guest rights, and the later consequences would be solely upon his head. Lord Arryn foolishly agreed, and now we are in dire straits," Lyn Corbray interrupted angrily, while Hoster acknowledged it with a frown.

"What are their terms?" Hoster asked a moment later, bracing himself for the worst.

He was not disappointed.

"Dorne has refused to bend to the Iron Throne now and forevermore," Varys replied matter-of-factly, "They have declared independence from the Iron Throne and their terms for peace and just peace, not fealty, are the heads of Amory Lorch and Gregor Clegane," the eunuch concluded while Hoster's eyebrows arched high into his forehead as a bead of sweat rolled down his face.

"And their responses for our demands of fealty?" Hoster asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"Nothing less than the head of Tywin Lannister himself," grunted Pycelle, who seemed very disheartened.

"Well, their demands are few and simple. Unfortunately, in life, it is the simple things which are hardest to achieve," Hoster smiled wanly.

"This is no time for japes, Lord Tully," Varys chided gently, while Hoster chuckled, "On the contrary Varys, I have never been more serious in my life," the Lord Paramount of the Riverlands spoke out.

"For the first time in my life, I have encountered a person who can match wits with me in my chosen arena, Politics, and I find it rather exhilarating," the Lord of Riverlands mused.

"We are now in a civil war, my friends," the acting hand continued, "The Dornish never had any intention of entering into talks ever! This pretence of allowing Jon Arryn to decline guest right and absolve themselves of any blame is just a charade. They always intended to capture him regardless! Who would care about words when all is said and done? In the end, it is the victors who define history, and if the Dornish win this war, nobody will care that they violated guest right and captured a visiting Lord Paramount who came to them in good faith. This, is a clear intention of their resolve. They intend to see this to the bitter end!" he laughed mirthlessly, while the others considered his words.

"This does place us in a bitter quandary," Varys continued, "The Dornish have threatened to execute Lord Arryn, if the Army of the Vale moves towards Dorne with the forces of the Rebellion!" Varys concluded, while Hoster became stone-faced.

"It concerns me as well, this is something unprecedented," Pycelle admitted, while Hoster considered the implications.

"Would they actually kill Lord Arryn, if it came to that?" Lyn Corbray asked hesitantly, as everyone stilled.

"No, they will not," Hoster spoke with absolute confidence after a few minutes of silence, "Know this, my friends, Kingdoms must be able to trust the words of one another, or else, no association at all is possible. We must remember that this state of war is not perpetual and sooner or later, there will be an 'after the war', in which all participants in the war must be able to re-establish normal relations with the rest of the world. If the Dornish act without care of consequences, no one will trust them later to uphold any bargains they make. There is a reason why diplomats are almost universally untouchable. They are the very blood veins who make interactions with the world surrounding us possible. If the Dornish kill Lord Arryn, then the world will regard them as outlaw, which will make it difficult for them. Quentyn Martell will not take that risk."

"And if he does?" Greatjon Umber asked from the corner, while Hoster became silent, "The only way for Quentyn Martell to remain unscathed and ensure that Dorne does not become an exiled nation if they kill Lord Arryn is to demonstrate that he is too powerful to care about the repercussions. Only if he is in an unassailable level of strength, militarily, can he afford to disregard the consequences of killing Jon Arryn. The question then remains, is he that capable a general to withstand everything the world throws at him and emerge victorious?"

"We will find that out," Robert Baratheon grunted from the corner, after hearing all the discussions from the side lines. He seemed to have calmed down after venting out his frustrations for a good fifteen minutes in the corner of the room.

"As much as I want to rip off Tywin's head from his body by my bare hands, I cannot do it now, lest I risk the West going the same way as the Dornish. If we are to even remotely have a chance of holding Westeros together, as unpalatable as it is, we need the old bastard and his men, for now," the King admitted harshly, while everyone became silent.

"For now, militarily, the situation at Bitterbridge is at a stalemate," Robert pointed out. "Tygett and his men hold the city and without a population to pacify, they are free to focus their attention completely on the Reach. If Mace Tyrell decides to avenge Bitterbridge, then he will be in an unenviable position. If he moves to retake Bitterbridge, he leaves his flank wide open, and that is something we will capitalize on. If he seeks an alliance with the Dornish, then he will demand the Martell to bring Tygett to heel, which will again work to our advantage. With his numbers, Quentyn cannot break the siege on Bitterbridge and take the city. He needs Mace and his men. If the Reach and Dorne invest themselves in a siege on Bitterbridge, then a surprise assault on their flanks from our combined might will break them for good. As far as it goes, it is not a bad plan," Robert admitted.

"Lord Stark suggests the same, Your Grace," Greatjon Umber added, to which everyone whirled around in surprise.

"You have heard from Ned? Where is he?" the King asked in surprise, while the others too looked upon the commander of the Northern Army eagerly.

"Forgive me, Your Grace, I intended to inform you after this meeting, but your plans for the battle compel me to speak earlier. Lord Stark is well; however, he is now travelling with a reduced retinue, and is preparing to send the Lady Lyanna's bones to Winterfell. They are currently making their way to Tarth, in the Stormlands, and once his sister's remains are seen to, he states that he shall return," the Lord of Last Hearth concluded, while Robert became stone-faced.

"And what does Lord Stark advise, my good Lord Umber?" Varys asked with a tiny bit of apprehension. This was the first time that they had heard from Eddard Stark, after he had left to search for his sister. From then on, despite his most strenuous efforts, even the eunuch had not been able to discern the movements of the Lord of Winterfell.

"Lord Stark has some orders for the Army of the Coalition," Umber continued, after giving a nod to Varys, "He asks us to send 1,000 soldiers from each of the five Kingdom's armies that comprise of the Rebellion and asks them to make their way to Bitterbridge. He asks us to send them in batches, a thousand soldiers a day from each of the five Kingdoms and they are to make their way unobtrusively to the city of Bitterbridge, and are to take positions in the marshlands that are near Bitterbridge and are to make no effort to relieve the siege, until the full might of the Rebellion is assembled in the south," he concluded while the others considered the message.

"Just a thousand men a day? That is too little manpower to do anything! We will waste a lot of time! Why not move the whole Army at once?" Varys exclaimed while Robert tried to understand his best friend's motives and then laughed uproariously.

"Ha-ha … Good old Ned, as usual, he has come up with a brilliant solution to our issues," the King spoke in a cheerful tone, while the others looked perplexed.

"To send the tens of thousands of troops that make up our forces down the Mander to reach Bitterbridge would take numerous days. Especially doing it in such a manner without anyone catching on," the King explained while looks of comprehension dawned upon the faces of everyone else.

"But … won't the enemy notice that we are down by nearly five thousand men each day, as the time goes on?" Pycelle stuttered in surprise, while the others seemed too shocked to speak.

"As if they would," Robert snorted, "You need to remember that we have always possessed a numerical advantage over our enemies. A 120,000 men against the 40,000 of the Dornish. Twice your number is about the limit a man can sense with intuition alone. And if we simply increase the number of flags and tents in our formations, there is no way a spy can notice any difference in strengths. By keeping up these false pretences, we can send up to 40,000 men to Bitterbridge and still have the spies of the enemies believe that our full strength is intact," the King finished explaining to the awe-struck members of the small council.

"But … but … for that to happen, does it mean that Lord Stark foresaw the possibility that we would have to potentially wage war with the Reach and Dorne long before it became a reality?" Pycelle asked flabbergasted at the implications of such words.

"That is not it," Robert smirked, "When we made our way to Kings Landing, after Tywin's sack and to take charge, Ned took it upon himself to place the Armies of the Rebellion around the city. During that time, he positioned the armies in such a way that they border the part of the Kingswood forests that fall between the Crownlands and the Stormlands. At that time, I thought he was being more conservative and wanted the troops to rest, as Mace had sent word of his intention to surrender and there was no risk of immediate battle with the Reach. I was wrong! He chose that place because it is ideal to sneak men into the Reach and the South without anyone noticing. Ned devised a contingency plan for the worst scenario before we even realized that we may have to fight the Reach and Dorne! Everything he does has a purpose behind it!" he finished, while looks of shock and awe appeared on the faces of everyone as they understood the strategy of the Lord of Winterfell.

"But this does leave the Lannister Army in Bitterbridge exposed, My Lord," Lyn Corbray pointed out.

"A necessary sacrifice," Robert muttered coldly, "Tygett and his men will have to weather the combined assault of the Reach and Dorne until we come to relieve him. He will suffer horrendous casualties, but he will live. Besides, this will be a good way to curb the belligerence of the West. With his forces much reduced, Tywin will not dare to act precipitously again. Those 40,000 Lannister men will serve as excellent bait to keep Quentyn Martell's attention fixed upon them, and leave him blind to everything else."

"But what if he breaks the siege prematurely before our forces are in position, Your Grace?" Varys asked quietly, to which Robert scoffed.

"To break a city held by 40,000 battle hardened men prematurely is impossible Varys, the tools of war do not permit such a thing. As capable as he is, even Quentyn Martell is bound by the limitations that waging a war of this scale will bring. There is no way he can break Bitterbridge before our arrival. It is not possible, unless he has living dragons on his side to burn them out," Robert chuckled before continuing, "It will take any army at least 21 days to break a siege of this strength. This gives us plenty of time to go to Bitterbridge and crush the boy-prince of Dorne," the King finished confidently as he stood up indicating that this particular meeting was over.

However, Robert Baratheon was wrong on one thing. It would not take 21 days for Quentyn Martell to break Bitterbridge.

It would take him just seven days.

Author's note:

One more chapter to go, and then the battle starts.