Reinforcements

Robb studied the man across from him carefully.

Randyll Tarly was not what he had expected. From all the talk of being one of the finest military commanders surpassing even Lord Mallister in skill, he had expected something bigger, larger than life almost. Not the short, balding, grey haired man before him. Then again, Robb imagined that many people expected more when they saw him as well, so it would do well not to judge.

Especially considering his arrival brought with it many questions.

Where was the promised Reach reinforcements?

What had he been doing that required him to be so delayed?

Where did his allegiances lie?

All these questions and more were things Robb needed answering, but for now, he was too busy analysing the man across from him just like the man seemed to be doing in turn. In the end, neither of them broke the silence, instead it was Ser Garlan.

"Lord Tarly, I'm glad to see you well." The knight said with a smile on his face, one the lord of Horn Hill didn't return, only giving a slight incline of his head to show his deference.

"I am glad to see you well as well, Ser Garlan." Randyll greeted in turn before once again turning to Robb, this time the man bowed his head fully like he had when first arriving. "Your grace, forgive my late arrival, things have been…difficult."

"You were expected weeks ago, Lord Tarly." Robb intoned firmly. "And yet, I do not see the promised army."

Randyll said nothing as the various men gathered in the war room uttered words of agreement at Robb's words. Many wondering if the men of the Reach were nothing but cowards, ignoring the fact that five thousand men led by Garlan had fought, bled, and died by their side for the last three months.

"You're correct, your grace. My army are not with me, they're with my son, currently besieging Deep Den." There was a ripple of shock at those words, no news had reached them of a large army so close to their territories, nor has=d they received news of any scouts.

Without saying a word, Robb turned to look at Lord Woolfield who had been in charge of scouting out the surrounding lands. The fact that a large army had escaped his notice and got so close to them was a humiliating thing.

However, as Robb turned back to Randyll he looked at the man in a new light. Hearing tales of a man's skill in military affairs was one thing, Tywin Lannister had been touted as a man of great skill, but Robb found those rumours to be grossly over exaggerated. Better than most he may be, but Robb had hardly found the Old Lion living up to the legends told of his skill.

'It's more than likely rumours that the Lannisters fuelled as to increase their own influence and power. Rumours everyone else in the Westerlands were too scared to refute considering what happened to house Reyne and Tarbeck. Now that those illusions are being shattered, many of the Westerland lords and ladies are flocking to me in order to aid me. And more come with every passing day.' Robb thought vindictively, just imaging the anger Tywin must feel.

"Not only that, but I would also like to report that the castles, Crakehall, Cornfield, Silverhill and their surrounding lands now belong to you, your grace." The silence that followed his proclamation this time was deafening, many unable to comprehend just what they were being told.

Robb himself found it difficult to believe, yet as he looked at Randyll Tarly's eyes he saw no falsity or lie there. Everything the man had told him was the truth and it made his lips twist up into a smirk.

Not long ago he had worried that the war would be lost.

That house Tyrell and the Reach would betray him and all this time, Randyll Tarly with his full refreshed and much larger army had taken over most of southern half of the Westerlands. All that stood between them an Lannisport now was Clegane Keep and that would fall soon enough with the additional troops they had.

"And your losses, Lord Tarly?" Robb implored, depending on the answer he was given, he could very well match east and start preparing the defences they're against the growing Lannister army while leaving Randyll Tarly in charge of the Westerland campaign.

"Minimal, your grace. In all, my host has suffered two thousand losses. I have twenty-three thousand men ready and waiting to bring the Westerlands to heel. All on your order." There was a flash in the man's eyes that Robb recognised, it had been the same look in many of the Northern lords eyes when he had first marched south.

The man would follow him, but only because of his position.

That didn't mean he had the man's loyalty or respect, no that would have to be earned.

Despite himself, Robb felt a smirk come onto his face.

This war would soon end and with it, House Lannister would be ruined.