Chapter 23

So, we get POVs this chapter from Gendry beyond the Wall and Bran at Winterfell, as well as Robb and we also get to see Steffon lay out his plans for the first phase of the war. Let's get started.

Seven bloody Hells, it's cold Gendry thought. The Night's Watch had departed Castle Black not that long ago with a force of 300 men; nearly one third of its total strength. Gendry, for his part, was serving as Lord Commander Mormont's personal Steward, though that did little to insulate him from the cold. Not even the thick furs that made up the Night's Watch uniform were keeping him warm. To be in such a cold place was borderline alien to him; he had never seen snow before venturing to the North.

They had the garrons, luckily; the only horses who were hardy enough to survive in such weather and thus, the only form of transport apart from walking. Or sledding, as Gendry found out as his horse went past an overturned sledge that had Edd, Sam and Grenn all standing around it. It was trapped in a snow bank, and didn't look like it would be coming out anytime soon. "Having a bit of trouble there?" He asked, a smirk forming on his face.

"Nothing's killed me yet." Sam replied.

"But your arse killed the sledge." Grenn said.

"You offered me a ride!" Sam countered

"I just wanted you to shut up about your damn blisters." Grenn replied. Edd and Gendry just looked at each other and shook their heads at the sight of their two bickering friends before they remounted the garrons and continued onwards. Their destination was Craster's Keep, which, as the name suggested, was the home of the Wildling Craster. Why he had stayed here instead of joining this . . . King Beyond The Wall, Gendry did not know.

That was one of the purposes of this ranging, as Gendry understood it; to learn more about this Mance Rayder fellow who was uniting the Wildlings. The other objectives, Mormont had explained to him, were to discover why the Wildlings close to the Wall were leaving their villages, find out what had happened to Benjen Stark and the other Rangers who had disappeared, and finally, to learn what had caused the corpse of the Ranger Othor to return to life. Gendry still shuddered at the thought of encountering more like him; implacable and single-minded killing machines. Hopefully Thorne will have the sense to to go Steffon first, he thought.

They soon arrived at Craster's Keep, and Gendry noticed two things almost straight away. One, that all the community members were women who truned out to be Craster's daughters, but also his wives (one of the foulest things Gendry had ever heard of), and two, that men and even boys seemed to be lacking entirely. He married the daughters, so what did he do with the sons.

It was not something Gendry wanted to think about.

He entered the keep (more of a basically fortified hall, really) and took a seat next to Mormont by the fire. The man sitting at the head of the hall was obviously Craster, with one of his daughter-wives at his side. He looked around, and noticed more of them were in the Lord Commander.

"We passed through six villages on the way here. All of them were empty." Mormont asked, prying gently for the answer.

"Well I could tell you, but I'm thirsty." Craster replied. Mormont turned to one of the Watchmen and ordered him to bring in a barrel of Dornish wine they'd brought for Craster. "You want to know where they've gone? They've gone north to join up with your old friend, Mance Rayder."

"He's no friend of mine." Mormont spat. "He broke his vows, betrayed his brothers!"

"Oh aye, and now he's the King Beyond the Wall." Craster replied. After some more bartering for information, which included one Watchman handing over an axe that Gendry had only just forged before leaving Castle Black, he gave some more information. "Mance is gathering an army, Old Bear." he explained. "He already has more men than any of your southern kings."

"Where does he plan to march with this army of his?" Mormont asked.

"Well, when you're all the way north with the Lands of Always Winter at your back, there's only one place to go." Craster said. "I suppose you'll be wanting to sleep beneath my roof for the night, and eat me out of pigs?" Craster asked.

"A roof would be welcome." Mormont admitted. "We have food and good steel for you. Forged by this man here; one of the best young balcksmiths in the Watch."

"If any of your men lays a hand on one of my wives, they lose that hand. And if I see your blacksmith staring too long, then I might just gouge his eyes out." Craster threatened in a causal voice. Somehow Gendry didn't think he was kidding.

"Your roof, your rules." Mormont replied as they left the hall. When they got outside, Mormont abruptly pinned Gendry to a post. "Who am I?" He asked. Gendry was confused. "Who am I?!"

"The Lord Commander."

"And who are you?"

"Gendry, your Steward."

"You want to lead one day, Gendry?" He asked. Gendry nodded. "Then learn how to follow."

"Did Steffon even approve this?" Catelyn asked. Robb's tent in the Riverlands had become an increasingly busy place after every battle, and even moreso after liberating the Brackens and Blackwoods; returning to them their ancestral lands of Stone Hedge and Raventree Hall respectively.

"No, he didn't." Robb replied.

"Did you even inform him?"

"No."

"Why not?" His mother asked.

"Because he would've ordered me to keep Theon here, as just another warrior. Steffon has the Royal Fleet. Add the Iron Islands Fleet and he'll have total naval superiority." Robb explained. "Or is it something else, mother?"

"I don't want Balon Greyjoy as an ally." Catelyn admitted. "And neither do you."

"We need his ships." Robb insisted. "I understand you don't trust him-"

"I don't trust him because he's untrustworthy. He rebelled against your father."

"Aye, one who rebelled against the previous King. Now I'm rebelling against one King to put another on the Iron Throne. You fathered one rebel and married another. And you know that I can't trade the Kingslayer and Myrcella for Sansa; my bannermen would string me up by my feet." He said, exasperated. "I did send a raven to Steffon about Walder Frey requesting that one of his sons serve as his squire, though."

"His Grace won't like that." Catelyn muttered.

"It's not about what we do or don't want. Frey's given us 4,000 men and an easy supply line which we can turn into a line of retreat if things go badly, and I plan on sending this squire to him when you go down to discuss our support of him. Means of supply and coordination."

"Would not one of your bannermen suffice?" She asked.

"It would be better coming from someone he trusts." Robb said simply. Catelyn shook her head and muttered something about leaving at first light before Ser Stevron Frey, the heir to the Twins entered. Stevron was an old man, but one still more than capable of fighting properly. He was also, unlikie his father, an amiable man, and Robb had quickly grown to like the sixty year old. "Ser Stevron. Pleasure to meet you." He held out his hand.

"The pleasure is mine, my Lord. Though I suspect i will soon be addressing you as 'My Lord Hand'." Stevron said, prompting a laugh from both men."In all seriousness, there is a war-related reason I am here, I gather?" He asked. Robb nodded his head.

"Your father requested that one of his sons be Steffon's squire. And that he marry a noblewoman of his choice at the war's end." Robb explained. Stevron sighed deeply.

"Seven Hells, my father really likes to make insane demands. Very well, I have just the lad for it. And not to worry; our father will likely have to approve the match before any wedding takes place."

"What's this lad's name, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Waldron Frey; my brother."

Winterfell had gone quiet again after Robb and Theon had left with the army. Word was slowly filtering back that Robb had never lost a battle, and that Steffon was beginning to gather what forces he could. It seemed as though that the war was going well, or at least, it was for now. A small token force had been left behind to guard Winterfell, but most of the true soldiers were with Robb.

Currently, Bran and Myrcella were in the courtyard, reading. Or at least, Myrcella was. Bran was poring over documents that had been sent to Winterfell from all the other houses in the North, though Myrcella couldn't have noticed one house in particular.

"What is so important about House Forrester?" She asked. "They are a lesser house, after all."

"House Forrester is incredibly important to the North as a whole." Maester Luwin, who was assisting Bran, said. "They're the sole source of ironwood in the Seven Kingdoms."

"Ironwood?" Myrcella asked, cocking her head to one side in amovement Bran found adorable.

"It's a type of wood. As hard as steel and burns for none but the Forresters." He explained. "We use it to make ships and shields." He continued. Myrcella nodded.

"I remember mother and father talking about it in the Red Keep once." She said.

"Ironwood is a precious resource; one that only the Forresters grow. It is incredibly valuable, hence why the Forresters send reports to us and their liege lords, the Glovers." Luwin said. "Bran, do you think you are capable of reading through these on your own for a time? I must tend to the ravens."

"Yes, thank you Maester Luwin." Bran replied. Luwin nodded and headed towards the rookery. Bran turned towards the blonde girl, her eyes now focused on the book. She was a beautiful girl, from her emerald green eyes and golden blonde hair to her infectious smile. As he was thinking this, an unpleasant thought entered his mind. "Myrcella, are you . . . happy here?" He asked nervously."

"Of course I am. I'm happier here than I ever was in King's Landing." She replied. Now that got his attention.

"How so?" He asked gently.

"Joff used to bully Tommen and I all the time. It could've been worse thatn what it was, but Steffon protected us. He forced most of Joff's attention on himself rather than let him bully us."

"Really?"

"Steffon hates bullies, Bran. He kept Tommen and I safe from Joff. he used to challenge anyne who used to push around the servants at the Red Keep as well." She said. "Steffon's always been protective of those who can't protect themselves. It's why people like him so much."

Bran nodded, taking in what Myrcella was saying fully. Another reason to like Steffon. "Him and Arya will get along very well then."

"Oh, I don't doubt it."

In the main hall of Storm's End, Steffon, along with his main commanders; Stannis, Penrose and Selwyn Tarth, along with Jon, were studying a map of southern Westeros. Wooden icons showing the Stark direwolf, Lannister lion, Tully trout, and the Baratheon stag for Renly where everywhere, while the recently carved wolf-and-stag icons for Steffon were small in number at Draonstone and Storm's End.

"Renly will not take your defection lightly, Ser Cortnay." He said.

"Perhaps, but I also swore an oath to the crown, and you are the rightful King, after all." Penrose replied. "Let Renly come. We can defeat him." He said confidently.

"Ser Cortnay, I mean no disrespect, but we have barely 8,000 men. Renly has over 100,000." Tarth said. "Not to mention the soldiers that Joffrey can raise from the Crownlands houses that declared for him."

"Dragonstone's an island." Stannis chimed in. "An amphibious assault would be incredibly risky under normal circumstances, but Dragonstone is volcanic. Any landing would have to be made on a narrow front to have any major effect, and even then, it's a simple matter to bottle an invading force up on the beach."

"My uncle is right." Steffon said. "Not even Joffrey is stupid enough to order an assault there. At least, not yet. The one advantage we do have is the Royal Fleet; it gives us naval superiority, which means we can accomplish one of two things. Uncle, Ser Davos is still on Dragonstone, correct?"

"Yes."

"Very well. Here's the plan. King's Landing is too well-defended to attack directly, so we'll use the Royal Fleet to suppress and blockade King's Landing while Ser Davos can lead a few hundred men on raids all along the coast around it. Doing this means that we can exhaust their reserves and force Tywin to keep his host at Harrenhal, meaning he won't be able to move against Robb or myself without leaving one of the two fronts open to attack." Steffon said. "While Ser Davos is doing this, we can focus on fighting Renly. Obviously we can't stand up to him in a straight fight, so we need to be smart. We can lure him into the Kingswood; his numbers will be useless there and his knights will find it hard to build up any sort of momentum."

"That nullifies his horse, but what about his infantry?" Tarth asked.

"We can get around that using traps. We can churn the ground and set up stake pits in front of the line."

"Stake pits?" Jon asked.

"A particularly nasty invention used by some Essosi armies to try and defeat the Dothraki. It's remarkably simple actually; a hole is dug, stakes are planted inside and then covered with light vegetation. A charging soldier puts his foot in that vegetation . . . he falls through and impales himself on the stakes." Steffon said.

"You do know some nasty strategies, don't you?" Penrose asked, smirking.

"Steffon, this isn't an honourable way-"

"We are at war, Jon, and are fighting an enemy that has us grievously outnumbered. We don't have the luxury of fighting the honourable way. Right, we all know the plan then. Dismissed."

And, chapter done! Yes, I know I jumped around a lot here, but hey, the show does as well. I figured I earnt a little jumping around.