Chapter 4 Robb

Seven dreadful days later, at dusk, they were finally ambushed to catch the Kingslayer in the Whispering Wood.

Robb awaited the Kingslayer with a small army, and his force of battle guards, which now exceeded thirty, including Dacey Mormont and Rickard Karstark's two sons, whom Robb had no intention of letting die in this battle. He waxed the string of his sacrilegious crossbow under the watchful eyes of his guards, who, every time they saw it, took the trouble to explain to him why such a weapon was not reliable and how they could shoot five arrows with a bow in the time it would take him to reload a crossbow.

Theon, a staunch advocate of the bow, was the one who insisted the most, constantly demonstrating his skill with the bow. His only support was Dacey Mormont, the only one of his guards who heeded his request and also carried a crossbow. That's why Robb had explained his sneaky plan to take care of the Kingslayer as soon as they saw him.

…

As night fell, the screams began. Jaime Lannister had taken the bait of the Blackfish and was chasing his men into the ambush they had set for him, far from his army, ensuring his capture. What the Lords did not know was that Robb had his own plan and was certain that Jaime Lannister would not emerge unscathed from this ambush. It was his health or Robb's life, and he would always choose his own life. Knowing that Jaime Lannister would not be easily captured and that he would charge, as nothing had changed to prevent it, Robb was not willing to let him kill Rickard Karstark's sons and nail his own coffin. No, the Kingslayer would suffer if he chose to resist capture.

…

After some back and forth of his messengers, Jaime Lannister, clad in golden armor, arrived at his position chasing his bait. He was accompanied by some riders who were surprised by dozens of men, falling under the overwhelming force of numbers.

Jaime Lannister, seeing how his men were falling rapidly, ignored the shouts of "Yield, Kingslayer!" and decided to throw all caution to the wind. He charged at Robb's force of battle guards to try to kill him, but he had barely covered about five meters when two crossbow bolts hit the arm he was raising alongside his sword, making him a perfect target for both him and Dacey Mormont.

When the two bolts struck his arm, the force was such that the Kingslayer was pulled backward and fell off his horse. For a few seconds, silence reigned, and Robb feared that his neck might have broken in the fall. But after a few seconds, the assassin moved and began to scream as he writhed in pain on the ground. Robb let out a relieved sigh.

"We've got our prey! Collect him, package him up, and take him to my lady mother! We've got a siege to sweep!" Robb ordered his stunned guards, who had been preparing to stop the Kingslayer's charge with their lives.

…

When Ser Jaime Lannister was dragged near him and the torches they had lit, Robb saw how his arm had been hit by both crossbow bolts. One passed through his vambraces, and the other near his elbow. The bolts were stopped by his armor, and their penetration was minimal, but upon falling, his forearm had fractured and looked quite ugly. Robb didn't know if it would heal; bones could mend, but if his muscles or an artery were damaged, he might end up with a crippled arm or they might have to amputate it. He could also die from an infection.

After Ser Jaime passed by his side, his entire guard looked at him with horror and a certain revulsion.

"Did you do it because he used that hand to harm your father?" Theon asked in a whisper. He was the only one of his guards who dared to treat him familiarly, although Dacey sometimes joked with him. Robb blinked with genuine surprise, earning horrified looks from his guards.

"I'm truly taken aback by your question!" Robb reproached upon seeing that they had all misinterpreted his gesture. "I only intended to defend my life in a moment of danger, not ruin his arm," he explained calmly, realizing all the implications that could be inferred from his actions.

His guards looked at Dacey Mormont, armed with another crossbow, and from their looks around, Robb understood another detail he hadn't given importance to: both he and Dacey only had one bolt.

It was obvious, as the crossbow had only one use and no more than one shot to save the Karstark brothers, who according to his knowledge of the future, would be killed in the Kingslayer's charge.

If the first shot missed, there was no point in trying others, as everything would happen in a matter of seconds. So he only had one bolt, and Dacey had another. Seeing it now, all his explanations were senseless, and in fact, it was irrefutable proof that, from the beginning and according to the imagination of these men, he, the Winter Wolf, with malice and premeditation, had planned to maim the Kingslayer, one of the most renowned swords, or perhaps the most renowned, in the Seven Kingdoms. Everyone criticized his lack of honor, but they accepted that his swordsmanship talent was unparalleled.

And now, he had left this god of the sword crippled out of pure revenge. In the eyes of these men, he had a plan and also the necessary cruelty to have planned something like that, along with the intellect to predict that the Kingslayer wouldn't surrender when surrounded and would attempt to charge. Robb realized that no matter what he said, no one would believe him, so he just made a frustrated grimace.

"I merely followed my lord's strict orders and aimed at his sword arm as soon as he charged," Dacey Mormont excused herself with displeasure.

Robb blinked at her. He already knew that those grimaces she made when he explained his plan weren't normal. She also believed in that warrior's creed, and shooting the arm of the best swordsman in Westeros with a crossbow was also sacrilegious to her, but because he was her lord and ordered her to, she obeyed.

Robb shook his head and didn't bother to excuse himself any further. He didn't even take into account the Kingslayer's fight with his father or the wound he caused. He was only thinking about saving his own life and his mother's life by preventing the Kingslayer from killing Rickard Karstark's two sons and being forced to face the cantankerous old man, so he wouldn't ruin his salvation plans or seek revenge against the Lannisters, in addition to avoiding the loss of about a thousand men that House Karstark contributed to his cause.

"Stop staring at me, I've ordered an advance!" Robb reprimanded, and his battle guards flinched and hurried to form ranks.

…

A few hours later, they were attacking the three siege camps led by Jaime Lannister. The camps were divided by rivers, as Riverrun Castle was not named so by chance. It was a castle defended by rivers on both sides, and they could add another stream when besieged, creating a kind of dam and forcing anyone besieging them to divide into three camps and cross the rivers if they wanted to support each other.

It was a stroke of military defense genius for the castle. Unfortunately, for this family, its last generation was disastrous, and they were falling further and further. Their ancestors must be twisting in their graves and cursing Hoster Tully for having children who were worth nothing in a world of madmen and power-hungry killers.

With the enemy camp, now outnumbered compared to his own, divided into three, Robb split his own army in two and attacked the two less defended camps. Due to his taunting attacks on the Kingslayer, the overly gullible had maximally reinforced the camp that received the hook attacks and left the others with weaker defenses, making their sweep even easier.

Robb didn't hold back and, without any fear, marched at the forefront of his men, clad in mail and steel armor.

This battle wasn't a clash of enemy lines against enemy lines; it was a cavalry charge against an unguarded rear camp. They hadn't even dug trenches, and the horses rode through the camp without any obstacles.

Robb led his more than thirty battle guards, charging in formation against terrified men trying to flee, while a few attempted to form ranks. But it was futile, as the commotion his army had caused gave the impression that they were ten times more numerous, and most of the men in the camps under attack were only thinking of escaping.

Robb faced some rows of enemies, but they weren't wearing armor, at most hastily donning a breastplate, which posed no problem for his full steel armor. Occasionally, Robb felt a slight impact on one side, but it was cushioned by the gambeson beneath the armor, and the only loss he suffered in the battle was his own stamina, as by the end, his body trembled from exhaustion.

…

Some time after his attack, Robb observed how the enemy army didn't care about the darkness and galloped towards the nearby woods. As long as they could escape, nothing else mattered to them. However, Robb could hear some cries of pain and wondered if someone had fallen or if they were already injured.

Robb looked to the other side, where the rivers were, and where some overly foolish members of Jaime Lannister's army had sunk like rocks to the riverbed, attempting to cross with their armor on, sailing in small boats to reach the battle. Their deaths were gruesome, and Robb preferred not to dwell on it, as his body trembled from exhaustion and he tried to catch his breath. He looked at Grey Wind, who was by his side and didn't seem to have suffered any wounds.

"The battle guards, experiencing their first charge, seem to be trembling," the Greatjon said, approaching their group with another group of lords behind him, who had come to check on their sons.

None of these men seemed tired, but like them, they had been riding all over the place. In fact, one could say they had been given the easier part of the battle.

"It's the excitement!" Torrhen Karstark declared.

"It's the excitement!" echoed the rest of his battle guards resolutely. Their lords looked at him as he continued trying to catch his breath.

"I just need a place to lie down and die," Robb said honestly, because even sitting on his horse seemed too exhausting at the moment.

The Greatjon burst into laughter, and the lords laughed along with him. Of course, Robb was the lord, and there was no time to lie down and die, as he had to take stock of the losses, see what supplies they had plundered from the enemy camp, send a raven to Bran to try to save Ned Stark's head, and visit his grandfather, who, thanks to his sons, was forced to endure a siege in his ailing state.

The elderly Hoster Tully had nothing but praise and kind words for him, telling him how much he resembled his mother and how proud he was to be his grandfather. This old man, according to Catelyn Stark, had been a good father to her, but he always prioritized what he believed to be the best interests for his two daughters.

With Catelyn, he had been right. Even if she had married Brandon Stark, who was known to be wild, the Starks were honorable. But with Lysa Tully, he had been completely wrong in forcing her to have an abortion and marrying her to Lord Arryn. It could be said that Lysa was right and that her father only had eyes for Catelyn, completely disregarding Lysa.

Later, Hoster Tully also attempted to marry his brother, which ended in a fight that caused him to leave with Lysa to the Vale of Arryn. Robb suspected that it was this fight that made the marriage and family alliance fanatic in Hoster Tully regret his actions. In Robb's opinion, he shouldn't have done it and should have raised his heir freely and without any responsibilities, which resulted in a disaster on legs as soon as he handed over command.

…

Robb fell exhausted as the sun was rising, but by mid-morning, he was awakened by a cry of anguish that filled him with terror, apprehension, and helplessness, and it wasn't his own voice.

"Damn it!" Robb exclaimed, jumping up as Grey Wind moved away. He already knew what had happened.

His guards entered his room with unsheathed swords, looking for any lurking assassin, but they only stared at him with bags under their eyes and his reddish-brown hair disheveled as he adjusted his belt to run to the raven tower, wherever it was.

…

As Robb ran, the desperate squawks of the ravens reached his ears. It was a mixture of wailing and lamenting that caused the rest of the castle, which hadn't risen due to his initial commotion, to now stand with wide eyes from the fright.

"Kill anyone who tries to enter!" Robb ordered his twenty guards after he had removed the maester from the raven tower.

The maester was demanding explanations for his actions, but he shut his mouth and stepped aside upon hearing his command. Robb entered the tower with Grey Wind and closed the door behind him.

"Bran! Calm down, you'll kill the ravens," Robb said upon seeing the ravens squawking desperately, but he knew it was Bran who was behind them, crying and shrieking.

"They killed him!" Bran shouted in his mind. "Joffrey sent his executioner to cut off father's head and no one did anything to help him!" Bran cried in his mind. Robb closed his eyes for a few seconds; he didn't know this would happen as soon as the takeover of Riverrun was carried out. He wasn't prepared.

"Bran, please, calm down. Everything will be okay…"

"Nothing will be okay. They killed father!" Bran yelled, and three ravens dropped dead to the ground.

Robb wondered if this child could do the same to him. He knew Bran was capable of doing terrible things with his magic, including possessing a body, and based on descriptions of his power in books, it was possible that he could also expel a person's consciousness from their body.

Robb wondered if he had made a mistake in teaching this child to use his magic. The truth was that so far, his magic had been extremely useful in ensuring his plans were one hundred percent accurate, but it wasn't worth it if he was in danger…

"Bran, take it," he heard Maester Luwin's voice, even a frightened Hodor who kept repeating "Hodor" nervously and fearfully.

"I don't want to! They killed father!" Bran screamed.

Robb tried to see what was happening, but he wasn't Bran. It was an achievement that he could hear something from the other side of the raven connection, but he could imagine what was going on.

"Bran, listen to Maester Luwin, you have to calm down. You're putting everyone in danger. Father wouldn't want that, remember what I've told you. We must be strong, Bran! And now that father is gone, we can't let his death be in vain. We must survive and be brave," Robb consoled calmly.

"But they killed father," Bran cried with doubt.

"And we'll avenge him. Now we must overcome this!" Robb comforted, looking at the ravens that appeared calmer and no longer seemed to suffer an attack.

"Bran?" Robb asked.

"Robb?" he heard Maester Luwin's voice. Robb tensed, he didn't know how Maester Luwin could hear him.

"Maester Luwin, can you hear me?" Robb asked.

"Robb, is that you? Move a wing, say something," Maester Luwin said. Robb grimaced, he had overthought. He couldn't hear him, surely the ravens had caused a commotion at Winterfell too, and Maester Luwin wasn't a fool; he already suspected them.

"Robb asked if you could hear him!" a small, high-pitched and tearful voice said.

"Rickon?" Robb asked.

"Robb, Bran says they killed father," Rickon cried. God, Robb thought. Now he really didn't know what to say.

"Rickon, you must be brave," Robb said, feeling very stupid telling that to a baby.

"Robb, kill them all and bring mother back!" demanded Rickon. Robb blinked in surprise.

"Robb, if you're there, I've put Bran to sleep using poppy milk, we need to talk when he wakes up," Maester Luwin said in a serious tone with some implicit warnings in his voice.

"Rickon, take some of this," Maester Luwin said, having already put Bran to sleep and seeming to want to do the same with Rickon.

"Rickon, obey Maester Luwin!" Robb ordered.

"I will, but kill them all," Rickon pleaded again.

"I'll do my best," Robb said with a sigh.

"And bring mother back," Rickon said. He didn't forget his priorities.

"I will, Rickon," Robb promised. A few seconds later, the ravens had completely calmed down, but six of them were dead.

…

When everything was quiet, Robb leaned against the wall and let his legs lose their strength until he lay down with a sigh of frustration and helplessness.

"So that was it," Robb thought. He believed that several days had passed between the capture of the Kingslayer and his father's death, but not even a day had gone by, not even half a day. His father was doomed from the beginning, and the war couldn't be avoided, which meant that the threat still loomed over his head and the rest of his family.

Robb contemplated his next moves. Even if he didn't break his engagement with them, blindly trusting the Freys was madness. Fortunately, he had an army of them as hostages, and as long as he didn't let them go far from him, he would be safe, because the wretched old man valued his own.

Lord Bolton would soon lose his head if he dared to present a report that didn't meet his minimum requirements for the assigned task. Robb didn't believe that the leech lord was stupid, but if he was, his head would roll, and that would be one less problem. If not, he would be someone he needed to bribe and keep an eye on. For the bribe, Robb had to think of something significant that would satisfy this lord's ambition a little. Fortunately, they were at war, and their enemies were numerous, so there was loot everywhere.

Another of his problems was the King in the North. If he allowed himself to be crowned, he would be dead. The North simply didn't have enough men. The Riverlands would fend for themselves, and the Freys weren't idiots; they wouldn't sacrifice themselves for him. So his next step would be to reject the crown and put the minds of his lords in his place.

The next step was to seek a king to serve. Without a crown on his head, they would all be eager to have him on their side. Joffrey was out of the question, as he was his current enemy. Renly was insignificant, and Stannis would kill him soon. Stannis was his safest candidate, but he had to consider that Daenerys Targaryen would arrive sooner or later with her dragons, and there wouldn't be an army capable of facing them. Of course, those dragons were babies now, if they had already been born, and Daenerys still had to overcome many difficulties to reach the Seven Kingdoms. Still, he didn't like the idea of surviving only to be scorched by a dragon…

Robb shook his head. He had to focus on surviving in the present moment and not think about what would happen in three or four years, as his death was predetermined for this very year. Now, Stannis was his best option, so he had to allocate his resources to help him win the war.

Determined on which king to support, Robb now had to organize what he knew to seek alliances. The Tyrells were foolish and too ambitious; they would never support Stannis when the throne was within their reach. They didn't care that Joffrey was a bastard; once Renly died, they would side with Joffrey. There was no way to lure them to his side without crowning himself and breaking his oaths to marry Margaery Tyrell. In that case, he wouldn't have to fear the Freys, although he might become another victim of Melisandre's magic, so that wasn't a good option if he wanted to live longer. For all these reasons, the Tyrells were out of the question.

The Martells… outright dismissed. The Seven Kingdoms could burn, and Doran Martell would continue making convoluted plans destined for failure because there was no seriousness behind them. The Martells were also ruled out.

Then there was the Vale. Lysa Arryn, the madwoman who killed her husband. He had information about her and knew how to make the most of it. But his lady mother would suffer, and his ailing grandfather would die in agony, both mental and physical. He had to think about whether he would benefit from it and when he would need those forces.

The Lannisters, of course, were ruled out. He liked Tyrion Lannister and even the Kingslayer, but there was no possibility of reconciliation between their families, and he would lose the support of his lords if he spoke of peace, and they were the ones keeping his head attached to the rest of his body.

Lastly, there was Balon Greyjoy, an enemy, and just like the Lannisters, there was no possible reconciliation with the ironborn, which would lead to a war to the death with them.

Robb sighed. With his allies and enemies decided, he now had to review his strategies. For Stannis to take King's Landing, three things were vital. First, prevent the alliance between the Tyrells and the Lannisters. Second, keep Tywin Lannister in the Riverlands. And finally, confirm Tyrion Lannister's strategy to use wildfire and sink Stannis' fleet. If these three points were fulfilled, victory would be automatic. If he failed in one of them, victory would come at a higher cost. If he failed in two, his life might barely be spared, and if he failed in all three, he was doomed.

Now he had to think about his sisters, Sansa and Arya, and how to bring them with him. The Kingslayer was still in his hands, a powerful bargaining chip…

Grey Wind growled threateningly as someone knocked on the door.

"My lord, your meal is ready. Your uncle is waiting for you in the dining hall," came the voice of the She-Bear, Maege Mormont. From her tone, it sounded as if nothing had happened, and she was calling him to breakfast. Robb offered a half-smile and patted Grey Wind's head, causing the wolf to stop growling.

Robb got up, tidied his somewhat unruly hair, which was a bit long, ran his hand over his face, and noticed that he had some facial hair again. He decided to call for his barber later; he wasn't going to make a fool of himself trying to sport a beard when he didn't have much hair to show. If all he had was stubble, then he'd prefer a clean-shaven face. If someone underestimated him because of it, that would work in his favor. Besides, his lords seemed somewhat afraid of him and tended to misinterpret his actions, so it was better not to give them more reasons to fear him.

Robb adjusted his pants and realized he was barefoot, wearing a sleep tunic. He grimaced and walked to the door, opening it to find his guards being intimidated by the She-Bear. However, out of pride, they had formed a semicircle around him to make it clear to the other lords beyond that they weren't afraid. The rest of the lords, beyond the guards, were led by Rickard Karstark and the Greatjon. The She-Bear smiled sympathetically at him, which led Robb to believe that they had already figured out what had happened or at least suspected it.

"A raven has arrived. My lord father has been executed in King's Landing, and peace is no longer an option," Robb informed in a neutral tone.

The She-Bear approached and hugged him. Robb was about to push her away, but he found he didn't have the strength to do so, as his emotions overwhelmed him.

Robb did his best to maintain his composure in front of his lords, holding back tears and keeping his arms still, not reciprocating the hug. To anyone accusing him of being weak, he would say that the She-Bear had taken his breath away, and that would settle the matter.

As the She-Bear released him, Robb was glad to retain his clarity.

"My lords, it has been a long night for all, and now my father is dead. As your former lord, I ask that you hold this day in his honor. I will do the same in the Godswood…" Robb looked at his appearance. "After my morning ablutions. Lady Mormont, please inform my uncle Edmure about this news and that I will not be attending the dining hall today," Robb ordered and began to walk.

His guards hurried to follow him, and Grey Wind growled at anyone who tried to bother him.

…

"In this damned forest, there's no heart tree," Robb complained, although he believed that all the southern heart trees had been felled.

"If it's to communicate with you, a heart tree isn't necessary, Young Wolf," a voice said in his head, and Robb looked up to see a small yellow bird staring into his eyes. "You've made a grave mistake by not considering the consequences of training a child in a magic he can't even control," the deep voice added. Robb assumed he was speaking to the Three-Eyed Crow and leaned against the tree trunk, letting out a sigh.

"It was just an outburst, Bran is quite emotional and he witnessed his own father being beheaded. He'll calm down," Robb reassured confidently.

"He will!" the voice conceded. "But due to what happened, the eyes of darkness have set upon him. If not for my intervention, they would have reached you as well and seen what you're doing, rendering your efforts futile. Did you think using magic for your benefit wouldn't come at a cost?" the voice questioned.

"From what I've heard, strange things used to happen around you in your days, and you seemed to know a lot you shouldn't," Robb accused.

"In my days, we didn't have an army of White Walkers lurking in the north, waiting for disaster to take this world," the voice reprimanded. "Still, magic always has a price, even your own magic. The fact that you can't see it doesn't make it any less real," the voice warned.

"Is Bran in danger?" Robb asked. It seemed strange to lose contact with Bran so quickly, but it was this suspicious old figure who intervened and quelled his outburst.

"The darkness couldn't mark him, but now it knows he's there and will be watching him. Another outburst like this, and I won't be able to prevent them from reaching him," it said. Robb grimaced.

"Elder, are you asking me to blindfold myself?" Robb inquired.

"What you're doing and what you're trying to achieve is for the benefit of all. However, using an eight-year-old child to spy for you in a brutal and ruthless war, where he will see his loved ones suffer, is not only a morally questionable decision but also a very foolish one, given that you know his power and what could happen if his path twists or he goes mad.

»Firstly, you, who possess only a fraction of his magic and have opened your mind to his, will be the first to die. Then your brothers, sisters, mother… And everyone else. Each death will be a step closer to madness, and the darkness will exploit it, creating a cascade of deaths around him and pushing him further, to extinguish the light from the few people who could oppose it," the voice explained. Robb made several grimaces.

"If it's so dangerous, why didn't you stop me before teaching him?" Robb asked suspiciously, even though he had been initially convinced.

"Because you wouldn't have believed me and would have gone ahead anyway, considering me an enemy and causing the boy to build defenses against me. In that case, you would be dead along with many others now, and humanity would be doomed.

»No, the path to take was to make you face your own death head-on, to make you understand that even the magic you possess can bring about your downfall," it explained. Robb reluctantly accepted the explanation.

"And what do you think I should do now?" Robb asked.

"Revoke the instructions you gave the boy about me. Allow me to teach him and monitor what he does, because it's evident you can't do it. The boy simply ignores you and has been using his magic all over the place. Half the world already knows about him by now," the voice informed.

Robb made more grimaces and felt like crying. He had involved an inexperienced child in a magical world where he was like a god, yet controlling him there was impossible. He even felt a touch of envy for the little bastard, cunning and deceitful, who had promised not to go beyond the limits set by him. Of course, Bran Stark was famous for making the same promise to his parents every time he was scolded for climbing, so the foolish one was him for trusting the little scoundrel.

"How can you help me with Bran?" Robb asked.

"I can watch over him for you and teach him to have control, but if he resists, it will be impossible. There's no magic that can make a child behave if he doesn't want to obey," the voice said. Robb sighed. It was exactly the deal he was expecting. He would use the suspicious old figure to monitor Bran's obedience. That meant if this suspicious old figure did something to the little lying scoundrel, it would be his fault.

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