I'm really not claustrophobic. I just hate tunnels.

Sieges were dreadfully dull affairs. We surrounded the castle, throw up some tents, build some trenches, siege weapons and then we wait. Wait for them to run out of food or we get bored.  

Of course, considering the precarious position of the Riverlands, we really couldn't play the waiting game. We knew that we had suddenly struck at the Hoares, so they more than likely didn't have enough stores inside Harrenhal to last them for more than a year, give or take a couple of moons. 

But this was the Riverlands. The region of Westeros that was surrounded by potential enemies to the north, east, south and west. The longer we sat around this castle singing Kum-Ba-Ya meant the more time that the other kings of Westeros would take a moment to give us a little looksie and see if they can grab some land for themselves. 

"We need to take that castle." Lord Wyl Blackwood said during the war council. "Right now. An assault. Anything." 

"How exactly, Wyl?" Lord Jason asked. He thumbed in the direction of Harrenhal that stood ominously over us. "Look at the size of that stupid thing. It's walls are too thick to be smashed down by siege engines. Too big for any siege tower. Even the half finished walls are still too big for us to take any sort of advantage of." 

Lord Symon Harroway was in agreement with Lord Jason. "The only way I can see to taking this castle is starving them out. Beyond that?" He shook his head to finish his sentence. 

"Why not dig?" Ser Franklin Frey suggested. "Perhaps that would cause the walls to collapse or allow us entry into the castle itself." 

"The mines will have to be out of sight from the defenders." Ser Patrek of Fairmarket muttered as he rubbed at his bearded chin. "Those bloody walls of theirs gives them a ridiculous height advantage and any fool with a Myrish-eye or decent enough vision would be able to notice what we are up to."  

The other lords muttered in agreement with the plan. "Best we build more than one tunnel, preferably on all sides of the castle." Ser Lyam Mallister told them. "One tunnel has the chance of being counter-mined. And if it works, the Hoares will be able to create a chokepoint to easily kill our men. In fact, why not two mines per side?" 

"How long will it take though? I'm sure by now that word clearly must be spreading of what's happening right now." Wyl Blackwood said. 

I hadn't really spoken or shared my thoughts on the matter in the meeting simply because I only had textbook knowledge on siege warfare and that was from Edmyn's memories. From my memories, I'm pretty sure that I read somewhere that assaults on castles during sieges were not actually a thing, perhaps as a last resort, but not an actual thing. 

But considering I now lived in a quasi-Medieval fantasy world, apparently, assaulting castles was more of a thing than I thought it would be. 

The other lords nodded and quickly went to organise men to start the mining. I was somewhat surprised that no-one had actually even offered the chance to try and parlay with the Hoares that were sitting inside that pretty little castle of theirs. Then again, I don't think we would have expected much in response apart from the usual, apparently, official House Hoare rhetoric of that they are going to kill us or we are going to die, our lands ravaged and women raped.  

These lot were excellent people persons by the looks of it. I doubt even the best Public Relations company or department in the world would have been able to spruce up the Hoares image. 

And like that, that was how I found myself several feet underground, walking through a tunnel. I wasn't claustrophobic. I had been enough elevators to know that enclosed places don't really bother me. 

It was just that, when I'm on a plane, I don't appreciate the fact that I'm thousands of feet of the ground and thus, liable to find myself dead because of some bullshit or another. The same concept applied to having tonnes of dirt and earth above me. 

Being buried alive was not something I looked forward to. 

Lyam Mallister was trying his best to cheer me up though. Good on him. I liked Lyam. He was a good egg. "Just a little longer," he told me as we skulked through the tunnel, filled with several dozen men in front of us and hundreds more behind us. "And then we'll be up in the faces of these bastards." 

It was a nice effort, trying to cheer me up by giving me lovely thoughts of giving it to the ironborn with a nice, sharp piece of metal, but I really didn't like the knowledge of all that earth above me. I tried to keep my mind out of that quagmire and think happy thoughts. 

Gutting the ironborn. 

"It would have been nicer if they would have just surrendered." I said with a sigh. We had tried to parlay, but Harwyn Hoare was having none of it.  

"But not as much fun." Lyam Mallister replied, his sword hand gripping the hilt of his sword so tightly I suspected that the skin was white underneath. "The stain on my family's honour will finally be wiped out after so long. And I'm now beginning to sound like my lord father."  

Oh yeah, the Mallister's seat was called Seagard. The first line of defence from the ironborn into the Riverlands. I supposed that the fact that Hoares were able to bypass Seagard and conquer the Riverlands would have rankled a couple of their feathers. 

"Well, you sort of look like him. Why not stop there?" 

The heir to Seagard laughed then. It was nice to keep the spirits up and I was sure that we were getting pretty damn close to the end of the tunnel. Just a couple more minutes and we would be right in it. 

"You think they know that we are coming?" I asked. 

"Perhaps. It would be difficult to know. There are signs of when a tunnel is being mined, but I think Harrenhal's sheer size will mitigate those very factors."  

My cousin sounded rather confident with his words, so all I did was just nod. 

Several moments later, we reached the end of the tunnel. I could hear the pickaxes pick away at the earth at an incline, the miners busy at work to remove the last barrier between us and the inside of Harrenhal. I would have to admit, I was getting a tad bit impatient and wanted the miners to hurry up with the mining. 

The quicker I got out of this tunnel the better I would feel. Even if I was charging straight into a life or death situation.  

The only light that we had was provided by torches, that was until, suddenly, day light flooded the cave as the miners broke through into the surface. I had to squint my eyes slightly as my eyes adjusted to the sudden assault by light before Lyam Mallister pointed to the source of the light with his sword. "Charge!"  

He encouraged the men in front of us by pushing them lightly on the back to force them forward. The tunnel was somewhat cramped and there wasn't enough room to manoeuvre as one would have wanted, so everyone was forced to push on forward. The miners of course, were the first ones to step inside the walls of Harrenhal, holding their piackaxes as ready made weapons. 

Scrambling up the incline into the light from the little illuminated darkness below, I rushed on into the unknown, preparing myself to face whatever the ironborn had to throw at me. Therefore, you might understand my surprise when after I took a moment to notice that no-one was attacking us, I stopped to take a look out. 

Out of the tunnel that we had used to gain access into the insides of Harrenhal, more and more knights and river levies were charging out, battle cries escaping their throats, fanning out as they did so. Yet there was no-one to meet us. 

Lyam Mallister also noticed this as well, having come to stop a little beside me. "Where are they?" 

I shrugged my shoulders as the men continued to fan out the yard that we had found ourselves in. Many of them despite not finding someone to fight, continued to run right through the yard in either direction to some other destination in search of plunder or foes to fight. 

"Harrenhal is stupidly large castle," I began. "Perhaps they are deeper into the castle?" That was the only thing that I could think as to why we hadn't met someone in combat yet. How many men did the ironborn have here anyway? 

My cousin was more than willing to accept my reasoning. With a group of knights that Ser Patrek had charged with protecting me and Lyam's own, we began to make our way deeper into the castle, the deeper we went, bringing more men with us. 

It was beginning to be rather eery as to how we had yet to come across anyone. Not one ironborn or even the poor souls that they had forced into slaved labour to build this monstrosity. Somewhere along the way, we ran into the group of men that Ser Patrek had been leading, with the knight himself at the lead of it. 

He had a dark look on his face. "Bastards." He cursed underneath his breath. He shook his head. "It's best that I show you."  

Me and Lyam looked at each other before we followed after the aged knight. He led us into one of the courtyards outside a tower, a tower bigger than any other castle tower than I had ever seen before. It seemed to stretch out into the sky, as if to reach it and grab it within it's stony palm. 

That would have been impressive. 

If it wasn't for the bodies that littered the all around the tower. 

"Gods..." I gasped as my stomach churned.  

The workers. Slaves. Thralls. Whatever you wanted to call them. We had found them. Parts of them. The Hoares had watered the yard with the blood and limbs of their poor victims. 

The stench of death was strong. And the smell. 

Lyam was green from the sight. Or was it perhaps the smell? "There was no need for this. Why would they do this?" 

I had never seen Ser Patrek's face so dark in my life. Actually, I had never seen an expression so dark in both of my lives. "I suspect they wanted to cut down on the mouths to feed. Or they tried to rebel. Or for nothing more than simple cruelty."  

I shook my head. "There were thousands building this castle. Men, women, children. They killed them all?" 

Lyam's face had turned from green to red with rage. "They will pay for this. They are monsters. Not men. They deserve to be put down like the dogs they are." 

"Where are they anyway?" I asked. "We haven't come across a single ironbron at all. Are they holed up somewhere?" 

"If so, we'll find them. There's only so many places to hide in this blasted castle." Ser Patrek told us. 

We never did find them in the castle.  

We found them outside. Apparently, our tunnel digging had been noticed and Harwyn Hoare, having noticed that when we broke through, him and his men were pretty much fucked, realised that he was in a do-or-die situation. Despite what one could say about the ironborn and their ways, their was one constant with them. They had big-ass balls made out of brass. 

Mounting all of his men on as many horses as he held inside the castle, Harwyn led a charge to escape the siege. Somehow the son of a bitch had been able to break through our lines, although the same couldn't be said for many of his men and his brothers.  

What is dead can never die, only rise harder and stronger. 

Man, fuck the ironborn.  

*** ​

"We have much of our horse giving chase to Harwyn and the rest of the ironborn." Ser Patrek told the gathering of lords. Outside, the sounds of men drinking and partying the night away could be heard. 

The levies, men-at-arms and knights acted as if they had won a great battle. It hadn't been in truth. Sure, we had come across some ironborn who had not been able to escape and soon promptly butchered by rivermen, that had all been the fighting.  

There was no glory in that, especially in the deaths of the poor souls that Harwyn had murdered. I still didn't understand why he would do such a thing. To remove the number of mouths to feed? Then why not just starve them? It simply would have been easier than going through the effort of killing them with sword. 

An act of spite? I didn't know much about Harwyn, but if he was truly his father's son, then I could see that happening. I suppose in that case, the old saying of the apple not falling far from the tre would very much be true. 

Ser Patrek continued. "He'll try for a coastal town or village to get himself and his men boats to sail back to the Iron Islands. We won't let him." He finished, his arms crossed. 

I shook my head. "One shouldn't make promises or declarations that they can't keep, Ser Patrek. It lessens the value of the next promise to come out." 

"Ah, yes. Apologies, Lord Edmyn." 

I smiled at the older knight. "It's fine. I'm not the only one who wants the man captured. He has to pay for his crimes."  

"What of Harren then?" Lady Anya Bracken asked, seated as gracefully as possible. "His purpose is all but done." 

"He'll face justice." Lord Symon Harroway bit out. "He will finally answer for all the crimes that he has committed. All the suffering that he has caused." 

An eyebrow quirked up Lord Wyl Blackwood's eyebrow. "You would become a Kingslayer? How brave." 

Lord Symon turned on the aged Lord of Raventree Hall. "Harren more than deserves it."  

Never thought I would hear someone mention the title of 'Kingslayer' or anyone actually make some sort of defence in Harren's case. No matter how weak that defence was since it seemed to be based on the fact that he was nothing more than King of the Isles and Rivers. 

I smirked. I suppose now it was just King of the Isles. The Rivers were certainly not a part of his domain anymore.  

I felt the weight of more than one pair of eyes on me and I looked up and noticed that people were staring at me. My smirk quickly dropped and I cleared my throat. "Harren's fate was more than decided the day he became a prisoner of mine. He will die. But he will face a king's death. Say what you will about the man, but he is a king nonetheless. And he should be shown the proper respect for someone of his station." 

"You say that after having paraded the man naked for all to see." Ser Franklin Frey pointed out with an amused look on his face. "Some would say that isn't the proper respect a man of his station should be afforded." 

"In my defence, he earned that. I don't take kindly to people insulting my parents." A weak excuse, but a good enough for now. 

I don't think it would do if people learned I simply treated Harren the way that I did was because the man is a motherfucking dick. This cannot be stressed. 

That, and I'm a bit of a bastard sometimes. It depends on the day. 

I spread my hands around the room, a wide smile spreading across my face. "My lords, my ladies," I began, gathering their attention. "Bask in this very moment. Revel in the sounds of the brave men outside celebrating in this victory. For this day, today, the Riverlands are free." They smiled at that. Nodding at each other and even the sour Wyl Blackwood had a smile playing on the edge of his lips. Then I remembered something that I had been forgetting about over the past few weeks. "Wait, are we free? Or should we be preparing to travel to the Rock, Highgarden, Eyrie, Storm's End or Winterfell to give the knee to our new king." 

If I had thought that my question would have ruined the mood, I was pleasantly surprised that it did not ruin the mood. It might not have ruined the mood, but I wasn't happy at all at what happened next. 

Lord Jason's chair made a sound as it scrapped back when he abruptly stood up. "Oh, we made a decision alright."  

My stomach dropped a little as I eyed the smile that was on his face. "You can't be serious." I told him. I told them. "You are actually going ahead with naming me king of the Trident? I mean, I'm honoured and all, but I had thought that my demand for a royal army would have been enough for that proposal to be a deal breaker."  

Perhaps I hadn't been unreasonable enough? I had nothing against being king. I had thought about it. Long and hard when the offer had at first been offered to me. At the end of it all, I realised I was the most reasonable of all the lords to be made king. 

With Harren having fucked with the Brackens and Blackwoods, the Tullys were now the most dominant power in the region. Any other king that wasn't a Tully would be wary of me or my House. In other words, I would be the Hightowers of the Riverlands. The Reynes. The Boltons. The Yronwoods, even if I held no ambitions of any sort, the new king of the Trident will always be a little wary of me. 

Myles Darry spoke up next. "We had a little talk about that. We will acquiesce to the creation of a Royal Army and the payments to maintain it's upkeep on the condition that nobility shall hold the ranks of officers." 

Well...that was reasonable enough I guess. That was pretty much standard for any army during the Medieval stages and afterwards when national armies began to become more of a thing. Of course, if someone was going to try to buy a rank, at the very least, he had to have served a suitable number of years and be reviewed to be made sure that he was competent enough to hold that position. 

"I can agree with that with a stipulation that any commoner that makes a note of himself or is recommended for an officer rank be allowed to do so." A little meritocracy isn't a bad thing. Little things like this also did wonder when it came to making people be loyal. 

The riverlords and ladies talked quietly among themselves after that. Lord Jason then stepped forward. "Agreeable." He said, speaking for the others. "Shall you accept the crown then?" 

"It's not like you bastards are really giving me much of a choice then, are you?"  

And now, I was King of the Trident. Truthfully, when Aegon comes and finds a proper army to help him conquer Westeros at the ready, the son of a bitch better make sure he rewards me with all the gold in Casterly Rock.