34 The March

299 AC, Riverrun…

It had been nearly three weeks since Rody arrived at Riverrun. It did not take long for him to adapt to his old lifestyle; training with his men, scouting the surrounding areas, and doing whatever mission his liege gave him.

During these two weeks, his only time out of the boundaries of Riverrun was marching up to Raventree Hall to free it from the invading Lannister army. Although it was only garrisoned by a skeleton crew, they marched with five thousand men to secure the castle without any mishap.

However, not everything was good news as while the Riverlords and the Northern lords rambled about their course of action, the Lannister host solidified its hold in the Southern Riverlands.

Harrenhall and Darry lands were occupied and ravaged by Tywin Lannister who retreated behind the great walls of Harrenhall after the failed siege of Riverrun.

Riverrun also welcomed a white raven from the Citadel, announcing the end of the long summer. Some of the Northern lords were already beginning to grumble to return their lands for a last harvest before the coming of another winter.

Lastly, Lord Bolton had returned with a broken army at his back to the Twins. He was previously given the command of the Northern cavalry to deceive the Lannisters on the Northern army's movements and he did his job splendidly but at a great cost as Lord Halys Hornwood and nearly 5000 men died, and many Northern lords were taken prisoner, including Ser Wylis Manderly and Harrion Karstark.

Rody thought the Bolton lord did it on purpose as most of the cavalry sent with him belonged to House Manderly and House Stark. On the other hand, the cavalry of House Ryswell was with the king in Riverrun.

Nevertheless, Rody had other things to think about now. He was strapping the last parts of his armor as he prepared himself for another march. However, this time it was not a small matter as they were to join the army led by Robb Stark and Rickard Karstark.

Rody did not know the details but the combined Northern and Riverlander army was split into two. One half, which Rody was part of, was marching towards the Westerlands to blockade the newly gathering levies' entrance to Riverlands by reinforcing the castles near the border.

From what Rody heard, the king was planning to appoint Lord Umber and Lord Karstark as the head of the armies at first but to his surprise, most of his lords recommended the crown prince, Robb Stark as the head of the first army.

By the looks of it, Northern lords were impressed by the young prince's ability to lead during the last battle and most of them were ready to offer him a chance to further prove his worth. Of course, Lord Karstark, as a seasoned commander, was going to be there to direct the army if things went awry.

Meanwhile, the second army, led by Eddard Stark, the new King in the North, and Brynden Tully, the Blackfish, was marching towards Harrenhall. They were going to clean out the Eastern Riverlands to muddy the ground for the negotiations.

After long consideration by both sides, Riverlands and the North decided to secure Riverlands' borders before beginning negotiations. Of course, the North was adamant in its independence, proved by the newly dubbed attitude of the Northern lords by declaring it at every turn.

The only one who did not like the whole current ongoing was Jon Snow who was hating it every moment he was called the Bastard Prince, instead of simply a bastard.

The Greycloaks were tasked with the protection of the crown prince so Rody and others were going to ride beside the crown prince and other lords.

As Rody was lost in his thoughts about the ongoing war, someone entered his tent.

"Captain, everyone is ready. We are waiting for you." said the man.

Rody nodded his head and pushed himself up to his feet. His armour was already on him and his sword was strapped to his belt. It had been a long time since Rody wore such shiny armour as the only thing he wore since King's Landing was nothing more than a worn out leather armour.

The sun blinded Rody as he left the tent. It was still morning and the camp was already lively. Greycloaks were all up onto their horses waiting for their captain. At the most front was his horse, waiting for him, and their commander, the bastard prince.

Rody greeted everyone as he walked towards his horse. He mounted his horse easily and turned his head to Jon.

"Commander," he said. "You look like someone who drank a whole lot of horse milk last night."

"Says the one who passed out after a few cups." Jon looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a trace of smile on his face. "Robb must be waiting for us, let us be on our way."

Rody nodded his head and turned his horse towards the men waiting behind them. "Lannisters are waiting for us, boys!! We should not make them wait too much!"

Fists were raised to air as horses neighed and moved forward. The whole band of Greycloaks moved through the camps littered around Riverrun. Everyone was already awake and was preparing to march out.

Rody saw some familiar faces spending their breath to hurry their men. Lord Umber, for example, was slapping every person he saw for loafing around.

Rody couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of Lord Umber's zealousness. The Greatjon was a force to be reckoned with, and his booming voice echoed across the camp, urging his men to move faster.

As they rode past the tents, Rody caught sight of Ser Wendel Manderly, his stern expression revealing the weight of his recent losses. His brother, Wylis Manderly's capture had deeply affected the younger brother, and Rody could only imagine the thoughts swirling in his mind. He made a mental note to offer his condolences and support to him when the time was right.

The camp soon gave way to the open road, with the combined Northern and Riverlander forces stretching out before them. Banners flapped in the wind, displaying the sigils of various houses united under the direwolf of House Stark and the trout of House Tully.

Rody rode alongside Jon Snow, their horses side by side as they approached the head of the column. The crown prince, Robb Stark, sat astride his horse, his eyes focused on the road ahead. He exuded an air of confidence and determination, befitting his newfound position as commander. His giant wolf was standing beside him and looking around with lazy eyes but as soon as the sight of Jon's direwolf was shown to him, his lazy eyes changed into excited ones as he pounded onto the white wolf to play with him.

Robb glanced over his shoulder as Rody and Jon approached, a warm smile gracing his face. "About time you two joined us," he jested, his voice carrying a hint of playful annoyance. "I was beginning to think you had decided to stay behind and enjoy the comforts of Riverrun."

Rody grinned, offering a half-hearted salute. "We couldn't let you have all the glory, Your Grace. The Lannisters won't know what hit them."

The young Stark's smile widened, and he nodded approvingly. "That's what I like to hear. We march to the Westerlands to show them we won't be pushed around in our own lands."

Jon Snow, ever the somber one, spoke up. "We need to be cautious, Robb. The Lannisters may have suffered a setback, but they won't take this lying down. They're a formidable enemy."

Robb's expression grew serious, his gaze piercing through the distance. "I know, Jon. But we must seize the initiative while we can. We'll cut off their reinforcements and secure our borders. The time for negotiations will come, but first, we need to assert our strength."

Rody admired the determination in Robb's voice. The young prince had come a long way from the boy he once knew. He had grown into a capable leader, earning the respect and loyalty of those around him.

The column continued its steady advance, the rhythmic thud of hooves on the dirt road setting the tempo for their march. Rody's mind raced with thoughts of the battles to come, the risks they would face, and the lives that hung in the balance.

But for now, he focused on the present moment, riding alongside his comrades and prepared to face whatever challenges awaited them. The war for the Riverlands was far from over, and Rody was determined to play his part in securing a future of peace and independence for his homeland.

As they rode into the horizon, their resolve unyielding, the Greycloaks followed their leader, ready to face the Lannisters head-on and shape the destiny of the realm.

…

Half of the combined Northern and Riverlander forces set forth from Riverrun, their march to the Westerlands beginning in earnest. The rhythmic sound of hooves echoed through the countryside, creating a steady cadence that propelled the army forward.

The road stretched out before them, winding its way through rolling hills and verdant fields. The lush greenery of the Riverlands surrounded them, providing a picturesque backdrop to their journey. The sun hung high in the sky, casting its warm golden rays upon the column of soldiers, creating a shimmering spectacle as their armor caught the light.

Rody rode near the front of the formation, his gaze sweeping across the landscape. To his left, the Riverlords rode proudly, their banners fluttering in the wind. To his right, the Northern lords displayed their sigils, emblazoned with the direwolf of House Stark. The unity between the two factions was evident, their shared purpose propelling them forward.

The sound of chatter filled the air as the men exchanged stories, jokes, and words of encouragement. Rody's ears caught snippets of conversations, the camaraderie among the soldiers evident. They spoke of past battles, tales of bravery and hardship, and their hopes for the future.

As they rode, Rody's eyes wandered to the countryside. Villages and hamlets passed by, their inhabitants coming out to watch the army pass. The common folk lined the roads, some waving, others offering words of support. It was a heartening sight, a reminder that they were fighting not just for themselves but for the people they swore to protect.

The march continued for days, with the soldiers falling into a routine. They rose with the dawn, breaking camp efficiently, and moving with purpose. The Greycloaks, ever vigilant, kept a watchful eye on their surroundings, scanning for any signs of danger. Their captain, Rody, rode at the forefront, surveying the terrain, and coordinating with the commanders of the various houses.

The road led them through villages and towns, where they would often make brief stops to resupply and rest. The locals welcomed them with open arms, providing food, water, and a temporary respite from the rigors of the journey. It was during these moments of rest that Rody witnessed the true spirit of the people. Despite the hardships they faced, they remained resilient, offering whatever they could to aid the cause. However, as they moved towards the border, any semblance of life left the towns and villages. Only piled up dead bodies and their charred smell was left for the matching army, further proving the cruelty of Lannisters.

As they crossed the border, the landscape gradually changed. The rolling hills gave way to rugged terrain, rocky slopes. The army adapted, their horses deftly maneuvering through the challenging paths, guided by experienced riders. The Greycloaks, known for their agility and adaptability, led the way, their keen senses alert to any potential dangers.

The days grew colder as they moved further west, a harbinger of the coming rain. Heavy drops of rain danced in the air, washing the landscape without any mercy. The soldiers bundled up as the thunder roared in the sky. Despite their shivering bodies, their determination remained unwavering, their resolve steeled by the purpose that bound them together.

At night, the army would make camp, setting up tents and building fires to ward off the chill. The crackling of flames mingled with the murmur of conversations as soldiers gathered around the warmth, sharing stories and laughter. Rody would join them, listening to their tales, offering words of encouragement, and sharing in the camaraderie that bound them as brothers in arms.

Days turned into weeks as they pressed further into enemy territory. And finally, they came upon the dreaded passage, leading to Golden Tooth.

The army halted at the entrance to the narrow pass that led to the fortress of Golden Tooth, a strategic stronghold guarding the northern borders of the Westerlands. The formidable stone walls rose before them, an imposing barrier that stood in their path. Rody and Jon dismounted from their horses and approached the commanders gathered at the front.

Robb Stark, the crown prince and de facto leader of the army, stood tall and resolute, his grey eyes fixed on the fortress. By his side was Rickard Karstark, a seasoned commander known for his fierceness in battle. However, there was a tension in the air, as Rickard seemed to oppose the idea of a direct assault.

"Your Highness, we should not waste our strength in a futile siege," Rickard argued, his voice laced with a hint of impatience. "The longer we wait, the more time the Lannisters have to reinforce their defenses. We should march on and strike at their vulnerable flanks."

Robb's gaze flickered to Rickard, his expression thoughtful. He recognized the validity of Rickard's concerns, but he also understood the importance of securing the border and preventing further Lannister reinforcements from entering the Riverlands.

"We cannot afford to leave Golden Tooth in enemy hands," Robb replied firmly. "If we allow them to hold this fortress, they will have a strong foothold in Riverlands. We must take it, even if it means a siege."

Rickard's eyes narrowed, his frustration evident. "A siege will cost us time and lives, Robb. We need to act swiftly and decisively."

At that moment, a Riverlander lord chimed in, "My lord, those man will be ravaging Riverlands, if we do not secure the border. Don't forget about the purpose of this army."

Rody listened intently, sensing the tension between the two commanders. As a trusted confidant of Robb, he knew he had to find a way to bridge the gap and maintain the unity of their forces.

"Perhaps there is a compromise we can consider," However, it was Jon who came for rescue and interjected, his voice steady. "We can send a smaller contingent to scout the surrounding areas and disrupt any potential reinforcements, while the main force prepares for a siege. This way, we can minimize the risks while still maintaining pressure on the Lannisters."

Both Robb and Rickard turned to Jon, considering his words. After a brief moment of silence, Robb nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Jon, I believe you've found a viable solution. We'll split our forces accordingly. Lord Karstark, I trust you to lead the scouting mission, and we will begin preparations for the siege."

Robb turned to look at Jon and said, "Choose some of your Greycloaks, they will be helping Lord Karstark."

Jon nodded his head and motioned with his eyes to Rody who also nodded his head and prepared to leave to gather some men for this task.

Rickard's features relaxed slightly as he acknowledged the compromise. "Very well. I will gather a swift and skilled force for the scouting mission. We'll make sure the Lannisters regret ever crossing our borders."

With the tension diffused, the commanders set to work, finalizing the plans for the siege and organizing the scouting mission. The army buzzed with renewed purpose, as soldiers readied their weapons and prepared for the tasks ahead.

Rody glanced at Robb, a sense of pride welling within him. Despite the differences in opinion, Robb had shown his ability to listen and find a middle ground. It was a testament to his leadership and the respect he commanded among his commanders.

As the army began its preparations, Rody couldn't help but feel a mixture of anticipation and unease. The siege of Golden Tooth would be a pivotal moment in their campaign, and the outcome would shape the course of the war. With each passing day, the tension grew, and Rody knew that the true test of their mettle was yet to come.