55 Chapter 36: S2-E12: In the Rivers and Snow 1/2

Chapter 35: In the Rivers and Snow

Forward: Editing and proof-reading credits to Rainsfere.

…

The Next Day, Late Morning – The Riverlands, Raventree Hall – Hadrian Rivers

More people had arrived to Blackwood Vale in the early morning, around fifty more from what Hadrian had counted. His father had been quick to put out a notice that Raventree Hall would offer sanctuary to all those in need, especially with the Lannister army closing in from the south while mercenaries raided in the west. The common folk had few choices, either risk going south to lose what little coin they had to 'support' the Lannister war effort or seek out safety with one of the Riverland Houses.

"Yet they're all coming here…" Hadrian muttered, looking over the large camp of refugees that had been flowing in ever since he had returned home. He had been quick to take the lead on organizing relief efforts, ensuring proper tents and supplies were sorted out. Poor planning could lead to illness breaking out and the last thing they needed was hundreds of sickly peasants to manage. It had been tricky to keep everything orderly…though luckily he was patient and persistent in his duties.

Sighing, Hadrian paced his way to the far end of the camp that bordered the front of Raventree Hall itself. There he had vital services set up ranging from a cooking station to hand out food, a medical tent to inspect newcomers and a guard post were issues could be brought up. Already there was a line up for early lunch rations, people being handed bread and soup as well. It was sad to see whole families huddled together with empty bowls in hand…even more disheartening with children by themselves.

"Come on surely I can get more!" One chubby refugee demanded at the front of the line. "This slop is barely anything. Only worth a gulp or two at least!"

The server, a middle-aged woman shook her head. "I'm sorry but that is the amount everyone gets right now." She politely explained.

"At least extra bread! Half a loaf maybe?" He insisted, making the woman glance nervously around.

Hadrian could see people getting on edge with the line being held up, along with hearing the man's growing demands. At this rate others would start doing the same and risk causing a ration shortage. "Sir, please you have to make do with what you have." He spoke up, drawing the peasant's attention to him.

"What lets you give orders boy?" He snapped, before noticing the fine leather and gray cloth cloak he wore.

"My fath-…Lord Blackwood has appointed me to managing this camp. Thus problems such as this are my responsibility."

The man gave a small grunt. "Then I can say you need to work on the food here. A grown man like me needs a lot after all."

Hadrian held back an annoyed scowl before speaking back. "I understand that, yet you must know that Lord Blackwood is doing the best he can. He's already having the farmers in the valley put out their harvest to support everyone coming here."

Hearing how the locals of the Vale were giving up so much to aid them drew low mutterings all about. "I…umm…that is generous of them all." The large man meekly remarked.

Hadrian nodded back. "If you do wish for more rations, you can help the people of Blackwood or around the camp. We're not asking for anything much; just simple labor would be a boon."

Hearing the news drew a few eager remarks from the line. The man gave a thoughtful look and nodded before stepping aside "Fair enough…umm…" He started, unsure what to call the boy.

"Hadrian Rivers." Turning to the line, he'd gesture for them to move along. With the flow of refugees going, he'd relax for a moment.

"Thank you m'lord." The server kindly answered, making him blush a bit.

"It was nothing. Anyway I…uhh…should go check on the medical tent." With that he hurried off, just wanting a break from the attentive gazes he got.

Nearing the medical tent, he'd soon hear the familiar sounds of pained groans and coughing. Entering the large space, he'd look over the separate cots, all divided apart by cloth to give the patients privacy as they were recovering or being examined. It had taken a good effort to recruit those with just basic knowledge of medical care. While the medics were no maesters, they at the least knew how to split a broken limb or calm a fever.

"Glad to have you visiting Master Hadrian." The House Maester kindly stated, the older man giving a soft grin.

"Had enough time to come help us in the camp?" The young man questioned. "How is my brother Robert doing…um…with his condition."

The Maester sighed at the question. "Stubborn about taking his medicine and sticking to a better diet. History has shown often that nobility can have an embarrassing end on the…well…privy."

Hadrian shuffled a bit, feeling that was unneeded details. "Anyway how does everyone look here?" He quickly asked to change the subject. The two paced along the two rows of cots, examining a few of the people resting on them.

"Mostly physical injuries. Cuts, sprains and the odd broken limb." The maester explained. "Time is all that is needed, though some here are quite restless."

"Ugh! I'm fine damn it!" A gruff male voice spoke out from the cot set at one back corner of the tent.

Curious, Hadrian moved up to see what was going on. One of the male medics was struggling with a refugee, trying to change the bandage wrapped around the right side of his head. "It needs to be changed! The cloths bloody and dirty…you'll risk infection." The attendant tried to reason.

The refugee squirmed free of the attendant's grasp, letting Hadrian get a look of his injury. It seemed his right ear had been cleanly cut off. While the wound had been bandaged, it was still quite raw where the cut had been made. "I said I'm fine! Look I can bandage it myself…just I need to get out of here." He spoke out.

"Why?" Hadrian question, drawing the man's attention. "I'm Hadrian Rivers, overseer for the camp here. Can you explain how you got such a bad cut…seems a week old from what I can tell."

The man grumbled, seeming annoyed and even a tad nervous with the questioning. "If I answer your questions m'loerd will you let me leave?"

The young man sighed before giving a nod. "Yes, along with taking fresh bandages as well."

"Very well." The refugee grunted. "So thing is I…had a run in with those Bloody Mummers."

"The Brave Companions?"

"Prefer the other name. Better for those murderous bastards." The man remarked back. "Anyway they snagged me while I was getting my family out of the village, cut my ear off trying to make me talk. I uhh…got the slip of them though when they were jesting about though I couldn't find my family afterwards."

"Seems like a close call. Where was your village exactly?"

"Umm…west of here in the denser forests. It was a raiding party…small enough to slip by Lord Blackwood's patrols."

"Odd considering we've had no news of them raiding that far west. I'll have to report this."

"Ahh…if you believe so." The man muttered nervously. "Anyway…can I have those bandages and go? I need to go look for my family out in the camp."

Hadrian nodded to the attendant who gave the man a roll of bandages. "Very well. I wish you the best of luck finding your loved ones."

"Right…" The man muttered, standing up from the cot before giving a wince. Clutching the side of his injured head, he nearly had his thumb sliding right into the exposed ear hold, as if trying to plug out a noise. "Leaving…right…leaving…" He'd shuffle past the confused trio, continuing to mutter to himself. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Once he left the tent, the Maester shook his head. "Seems his injury is more to the mind."

"Seems so." However to Hadrian it sounded as if the man had been talking to someone else. That aside, there was a lot to the man's story that didn't make much sense. Before he could ponder more on the matter, one of the soldiers from outside entered the next.

"Hadrian. Your father is calling you back to the keep for a meeting. It will be in the Godswood." The man quickly informed.

Nodding in response, he looked to the Maester who spoke back. "I'll tend to matters here in your stead. Matters of war aren't suited for me."

"Neither for me…still…" With a sigh, the young man followed the soldier out of the medical tent and down the road to Raventree Hall itself. Crossing the sturdy drawbridge, they'd pass through the gates to arrive at the main yard before taking a turn to the left end of it, heading to a smaller portcullis gateway which was open. The Godswood was one of Hadrian's favorite places in Raventree Hall, feeling like a whole other world when you lost sight of the walls surrounding it. Strolling along the trail that lead to the looming dead weirwood tree, Hadrian could soon see the gathering spot set under its barren branches.

Lord Tytos stood at a large table which had a large detailed map of the Riverlands along with early lunch set about for everyone else. As always his father was lordly and commanding at just a glance, considering he was now wearing his raven fathered cloak and yellow colored plate armor embroiled with jade vine-lead patterns.

Standing across from him was Brynden, Tytos' eldest son who was a near spitting image of the older man in his own youth. He wore a mix of chain and leather, seeming ready for traveling as well. When Hadrian approached, he was the first to notice him. "Here at last. Keeping the rabble outside entertained?" He commented in a jesting manner.

"If you mean keeping them fed and sheltered…yes I've been doing a very good job Brynden." Hadrian sighed as he took a spot at the far end of the table. "I take it you've called me here to shares any news from the refugees?"

Tytos nodded, at last looking up from the table to gaze at Hadrian. "It's the fact that we've heard nothing of the Houses to the east and communication from the west is limited." He'd mutter lowly under his breath. "Lord Edmure has been acting strange. All orders from him have insisted we hold our position and build up our numbers. He claims that Lord Robb Stark will be coming to support our forces…yet nothing on the number of troops, expected supplies or even their route."

"So then perhaps we need to take matters into our own hands." Brynden remarked. "I can understand that refusing Lord Edmure's instructions would be…controversial. However we are facing quite unique circumstances."

Tytos glanced to his son. "I agree with you, though rushing our forces out on their own would be risky. We have no idea of Lord Tywin's forces in the east, only that they control the King's Road and Harrenhal with the Brave Companions."

"I…do have some insight about the mercenaries." Hadrian spoke up.

"Then inform us then." Brynden quickly demanded.

Glaring a bit back at him, Hadrian continued to speak. "Villagers from the west talk about how the mercenaries had been called back from their raiding. They seem to be regrouping for some largescale attack."

Brynden gave a confused look at this information. "But where? We're the closest hold and I doubt their foolish enough to take on our numbers."

"Well…I think their attacking to the northwest." Hadrian pointed on the map between the differing forks. "The refugees talk about some…militia group in that area. They've been taking the fight to the Brave Companions, hitting their supplies and freeing captives."

"Heh…peasants fighting back? You sure this isn't just a rival mercenary group clashing with them?"

Tytos shook his head. "Not likely. The Companions don't leave rivals behind and Lord Edmure's and the other Lords haven't reported hiring any mercenary companies." Pausing in thought, he narrowed his eyes. "If they are marching into that region it must be more than just cutting down a threat. They could be trying to fully control the routes from the North." He'd then point to the Twins. "Lord Robb will need to convince Lord Frey to let him cross through his keep to avoid battling it out across the King's Road. However if the Brave Companions take over the Fairmarket region for the Lannisters then they could lay an ambush there."

"Then move on to us from the north." Brynden muttered. "So then who could be organizing this militia if they've been this effective?"

No one answered, though Hadrian saw the thoughtful look on his father's face. He too had an idea on who had the skills to muster a resistance against the sellswords, the same person who had saved his life months ago. He didn't speak on the matter, only wondering what his father knew about the Northerner veteran's past.

"Whatever the case, this could give us breathing room to make our own attack. Though if the Brave Companions do take Fairmarket, then most of the Riverlands will be walled in."

Brynden nodded. "Then I suggest you let me, and my other brothers leave the vale. We can scout out westward for the sellswords, make plans in Riverrun and see what has been going on with the forests around Highheart.

The mention of that hill made both Tytos and Hadrian give tense looks. "I agree with the first two…but not the last suggestion. No one is to go into that region considering how many people simply disappear to it."

"I find that odd." Brynden countered. "While I don't mingle with the refugees, my trips to the other holds have let me hear interesting talk about Highheart. Such as how three sister mystics have turned that place into a sanctuary and have the ear of quite a few lords, Edmure's included."

Hadrian gulped at the talk of three mystics, flashes of that horrible night coming to mind. The short sense of fear did fade as he kept composed.

In the end, his father spoke up before him. "Then I fear our fellow lords have become both superstitious and desperate." Tytos muttered. "Whatever the case, I agree that we need to coordinate with the other Houses."

"Even House Bracken?" Hadrian questioned. The neighboring keep of Stone Hedge had long been a rival of the Blackwoods, having long disputed the claims to the vale here. It had been centuries since they had fought but there were times they had united against common threats such as when the Andals first invaded.

"Even them. I've already sent a raven to Lord Jonos about uniting our forces as a show of strength. He's a reasonable man who's strived to put our Houses pasts aside, so I'm sure he'll agree."

"As you wish father." Hadrian replied back.

Nodding, Tytos shifted away from the table. "For now Hadrian, continue your efforts with the refugees. If you can, convince those able to help with fortifications if they have the skills or enlist with our forces. The more who can fight, the better our chances." Moving past Hadrian, he'd clap one hand firmly on his shoulder, a small parting smile on his face before moving down the trail.

"Best keep everything in order while we're gone brother. It'd be embarrassing if we returned to a shanty town." Brynden chuckled before following his father down the trail out of the Godswood.

Now alone, Hadrian sighed before looking up at the weirwood tree. "Everything is going to be fine…it should be fine…" Yet nearby cawing had him turn around as a group of crows were flying off from the nearby trees, disappearing over the southern wall. "Then why does everything feel wrong…" Once more there was a building dread within him, the powerless feeling of facing the unknown.

…

The Riverlands, Stone Hedge

Lord Jonos Bracken gazed across the map of the Riverlands along with pondering the letter he had received from Lord Tytos. Across the table, he had other letters from other lords, one of the oldest being Edmure's orders to hold their forces. "Sitting here and waiting. By then the Lannisters will have us surrounded in all directions. Won't matter if the North even arrives." The broad-shouldered man grumbled to himself. Setting the new letter down, he'd rub one hand along his bearded chin in thought.

Edmure was acting strange with his orders and combining all the hindering events throughout the Riverlands, his choices were limited. Working with Lord Tytos seemed a fitting choice since they controlled experienced and sizable armies. House Bracken's bannermen in fact outnumbered House Tully's forces. Still even that didn't ensure security for their regions with so much ground to over.

"Ugh…just no other options…" He cursed under breath.

"Bold Lord Jonos…there are always other choices." A cooing female voice spoke out from the room doorway.

Surprised by the unfamiliar voice, Jonos drew the short sword he had at his hip as he turned around. "Who are you?!" He sharply demanded. "I know my servants and I can tell you're not one of them!"

From the dark doorway, a fair woman stepped into view. She was dressed plainly like a peasant, though the style had a more gypsy like styling to it. "Your men were kind enough to let me in Lord Jonos. They understood the importance of me meeting you."

"And who exactly are you?"

The woman gave a wide sly grin. "You may call my Whispess." Pacing closer to the table, she'd stand across from him. "As for what I offer…a chance to gain what your House has desired for centuries and a place in the new world to come."

The Riverlands, Fairmarket – Marcus

Marcus didn't like the fact he had overslept this morning, though he blamed it on the fact that his wife hadn't waken him. He didn't blame her considering he had been tireless in the last week in organizing the militia on the town's defenses. They couldn't risk having any mistakes, else it they'd waste valuable resources.

"Sandra…always looking out for me." He chuckled as he finished getting dressed for work before leaving his room.

In the hallway leading to the pub hall, he could already hear the morning crowd still having breakfast. The Three Kegs had become the hub for the militia force, their 'stronghold' for Fairmarket. Here most of the militia ate and mingled, setting plans for whatever goal Marcus and his fellow Grims had set.

"Marcus! Took you long enough to get up!" One man laughed out, his companions giving jesting chuckles.

More greetings followed, the gruff Northerner smirking in amusement as he made his way to the bar itself. Sandra stood out among the other cooks and servers, politely giving directions to get as many meals out as possible. Seeing her husband up, she'd give a warm smile before moving over to meet him. "Morning old wolf." She teased before sharing a hug and kiss with her.

"Could have woke me up sooner you know." He remarked. "Every hour may count in getting the defenses set."

"Well…even a fearful leader such as yourself needs sleep."

He rolled his eyes at the title. "I'm just a soldier Sandra. Leaders often sit behind their men while I'm the one up front working with them."

The woman simply shrugged as she'd get a plate with a thick layered sandwich on it. "Then a good soldier needs a hearty meal." She stated with a playful grin.

Shaking his head with a grin, he'd quickly take a few bites before getting a seat at the bar to continue talking with her. "So where's Merry? I take Garm is watching her."

"She's playing outside with the other kids. You know that old dog treats her like his pup." Sandra answered.

Marcus nodded in agreement. "What about my companions? Heard any news of them."

Sandra paused in thought before answering. "People say Shadow for one of his scouting missions. Besides that that I don't know where he is. As for Doric and Ogatto, they're in the town outskirts getting the trenches set along with drilling the men."

"Then that is where I'll go next." Eating most of his sandwich, he'd pick up the rest before getting out of his seat. "Man the fort while I'm out."

Sandra laughed a bit before giving a quick kiss to his cheek. Slipping away from the bar, Marcus crossed the busy hall to reach the doors leading outside. The front of the Three Kegs was where most of the building supplies were stored, set under covering tents to keep any possible rain from soaking them. All about villagers and militia were busy at work, be it moving materials around or relaying messages.

Marcus glanced around the surrounding area; he could see that the construction on the spiked barricade was doing well. Since they knew the Brave Companions strength was their light cavalry, they had to limit their approach of attack towards the town while mounted. Adding also a trench along the barricade further made it impossible to be simply leaped over by any bold riders, along with slowing those on foot. The eastern approach though didn't have full-on barricades but a crisscrossing line of spiked defenses, trenches and short walls. All of it was meant to slow the attacks and protect the defenders from enemy archers.

Marcus moved towards the training grounds set to the right of the Three Kegs. All around there were tents set up for the militia members, allowing the men to rest and get armed against a sudden attack. Weapon racks were properly stored away with the maces, swords and bows reserved for the trained fighters while reinforced clubs, spears and slings for recruits. While their efforts against the Bloody Mummers had gotten them proper arms and armor, they lacked militia fighters with proper experience to use such things effectively. Despite this the militia's morale was at an all-time high considering the dedication to training themselves and building the town defenses. The tested fighters were busy sparring against each other while recruits worked on the basics against training dummies. The sight reminded Marcus of his own early days learning to be a soldier, though he hoped these honest folk wouldn't be driven to such a lifestyle.

At the edge of the training grounds were women and children watching the men practice. Among the kids playing about, Marcus saw the curly haired head of Merry who was trying to climb onto Garm's back as if to ride him like a horse. Other kids giggled about, shy about the dog who seemed quite impassive with the girl trying to keep her balance.

"I'm queen of the wolves now! ROARR!" She cheered out before slipping off the canine's side, drawing laughs from the kids. Merry laughed as well, though Garm gave a huff before shifting to lay across the girl's belly, pinning her under him. "No! Garm stop it!" Though to silence her the half-wolf turned to lick at her face, making her demanding become cute giggles.

"Alright enough now." Marcus chuckled, giving a nod to his animal companion who casually got off his daughter. "Trying to tame him? Trust me, took me ages when I got him as a pup."

Merry got up, dusting grass off her sky-blue dress. "He listens to me though."

"Heh…more like parenting you like a reckless pup." Sighing, he'd brush his daughter's curly hair. "Sadly I have to take him away for now. Friendly as he may be, he's not safe to have around other kids."

Merry gave a low 'aw' before nodding. "Alright…" Though she gave a quick hug around the half-wolf's neck before moving aside. "Behave around daddy ok Garm!" With that order, the half-wolf gave a short bark, making the girl grin happily.

"Now go off and play with the others." Marcus chuckled before the girl hurried off to join the other kids.

Garm gave a short bark to his master, making the man reach one hand down to scratch his ears. The two then moved on to the drilling grounds, passing by men practicing their stabbing moves with spears while approaching a line of men. It was easy to see Doric among the group, considering his height and imposing grey armor as he paced along the group. The militia members had formed up in a shield wall, working on their stance and formation.

"Make sure your stances are strong. How you position your legs and feet can determine how well you'll hold your ground." Doric directed. "A shield wall must be unified. You protect those beside you, so if your guard falters you risk you comrades being blindsided."

The men seemed nervous, though had determined looks. Many of them were freed captives from the last raid, some who had endured the battle against the mercenaries. While that skirmish had been the toughest battle of their simple lives, the incoming battle be far more intense to anything they had experienced.

At this point Marcus decided to step in and speak. "Remember, you're all meant to be the last line of defense if they breach the fortifications. Unlike the Bloody Mummers you have a true reason to fight, to protect your family and livelihoods."

Doric nodded at the statement. "Let's take a break for now. Water and food will do all of you some good." The militia were quick to follow the orders while Gray Knight moved to stand by Marcus as they watched the men run off. "They have spirit that is for sure."

"Yet it won't be enough." Marcus muttered back. "Our skirmishes have made capable troops, but our newer recruits lack proper battle mentality. If things get rough, morale could fall quickly in a real fight."

"It's our duty to keep them motivated." Doric simply stated. "No matter the odds I will stand my ground…and so will you too."

"Heh with my family on the line, of course." The grim risk did bring a dark glare in the man's eyes though. "We have to make this work. Have to draw the line here and show Westeros the people can stand on its own."

"No lords or masters." The Gray Knight paused long on those words. "I've done this before a few times in Essos, teaching towns and freed slaves how to defend themselves. Instilling confidence to stand and fight makes a difference against an ignorant enemy."

Marcus nodded in agreement as he understood. "Aye I can agree with that." Sighing, he'd look over the camp and nod. "Let's just hope Zarin and Alya succeed on their end. Their side of the coin with intrigue and politics can be a fickle one."

Doric nodded in agreement. "Zarin hasn't been wrong yet and no doubt prepared to deal with the Lannisters. By the time they realize his gambit, it will be too late."

"I'll trust in your confidence then." Patting the knight's armored shoulder, he'd glance off to the defense line where a large group of militia archers were gathered. Ogatto was pacing along the line as the men practiced on their long-ranged shots. "Anyway, I best make sure our Dothraki isn't terrifying our men."

A single amused laugh escaped from Doric before Marcus moved away from him with Garm close beside him. On the way to the archers he'd inspect the work on the trenches and barricades until one of the men working, a foreman, approached him. "Ah! Marcus, I hoped I could ask a few questions."

"Of course. Everything is going well I take?"

"Aye, though the men question if we should be cutting down the tree line to the east despite having plenty of wood already stocked. It seems to be extra work doing so."

Marcus nodded in understanding. "True, we have a lot saved up from our personal collection and our raids. However this tree line offers cover for our enemy's approach. The more we clear it away, the easier it will be to notice and shoot them."

The man blinked in surprise, realizing the obvious logic. "Heh, as expected of a wise soldier like yourself." The man chuckled. "Funny how many times I heard your tales at the inn. I doubted them at times, yet the last few months have shown me how wrong I was on that."

"If it'll make the men feel any better I'll take up an axe to help them out." Marcus offered. "Always has been my second weapon of choice."

"Heh they would be grateful." The foreman jested. "Anyway thank you for taking the time to talk Marcus."

"Any time." Firmly shaking hands, the foreman returned to his duties while Marcus approached Ogatto's group of archers.

"LET LOOSE!" The booming voice of the Dothraki spoke out before the twang of a few dozen bows followed.

The gathered militia archers let their arrows fly out, landing in the open field that separated the defenses from the nearby forest and main road. Along the area were colored posts, markers for certain distances. From what the Northerner could tell, their shots were too spread out instead of set in a clear line between the markers.

The Dothraki gave a small growl and shook his head. "You all need to be organized with your shots! If too many of your shots are too short or far then the enemy's charge will not be thinned enough!"

The villagers were a bit unnerved by the imposing warrior's words, though one young lad spoke up. "We've been fine with direct shots at the range at least."

Ogatto nodded. "Yes, but you only do that within a shorter distance. That point will only come when those mercenaries are nearly at the wall." He stated before at last noticing Marcus approaching, giving a big grin. "Perhaps it be would better if our sharpshooter explains."

"You do know I use a crossbow instead of a bow right?" The Northerner remarked with a smirk.

"True…yet you're the one who taught the basics of mass archery. Who better to teach this lot?" The former Bloodrider laughed. "Besides you no doubt used a bow plenty of times before and early on in the Rebellion."

Sighing, Marcus nodded as he stepped up, the militia relaxing around him. "Lad. Mind if I borrow your bow?"