Part-3

"And I've been so honoured by Hoster Tully?" he questioned "Jon Arryn? Hoster Tully did not attend either of my last two weddings, and did little more than piss upon me since the Rebellion. The "Late Lord Frey" he calls me, the bastard. Heh, I outlived his father, and I will him as well. And Jon Arryn, what has he and his ever done for me? I asked to send sons to court, to take his boy as my ward, and I saw nothing more than polite refusals. Not even a daughter I could give away to Hoster Tully, to marry to his brat."

"Then let me make amends for past slights," I said easily enough "Let us speak of future honours. Send your folk away, and let us speak as fellow lords, with wine to soothe our throats."

And solve some problems.

At that he smiled, and as he called for a servant to bring wine, the haggling ensued.

God, forgive me.

--

A swollen red sun hung low against the western hills when the gates of the castle opened. The drawbridge creaked down, the portcullis winched up as I rode forth to rejoin Robb Stark and the others. Behind me came Ser Jared Frey, Ser Hosteen Frey, Ser Danwell Frey, and Lord Walder's bastard son Ronel Rivers, leading a long column of pikemen, rank on rank of shuffling men in blue steel ringmail and silvery grey cloaks.

Robb galloped out to my side, with Grey Wind racing beside his stallion.

"Did you-"

"It's done," I said to him "Lord Walder will grant you your crossing. His swords are yours as well, less four hundred he means to keep back to hold the Twins. I suggest that you leave four hundred of your own, a mixed force of archers and swordsmen. He can scarcely object to an offer to augment his garrison . . . but make certain you give the command to a man you can trust. Ser Helman Tallhart, perhaps."

"What . . . what did he want of us?"

"I made a few promises," I said with slight hesitance "Two of his grandsons will need escorts north to Winterfell. Big and Little Walder, boys of eight and seven. They will be good enough companions to your brothers, I think. Myself, a page called Elmar Frey, as well as two wards at the Dreadfort. A Robert Frey and a Walden Frey. I'll have to write a letter with them for young Roose."

"Is that all? A few fosterlings? That's a small enough price to—"

"In addition, Lord Frey's youngest son Olyvar will be joining us as your squire. Lord Walder would be pleased to see him knighted in time."

"A squire." He shrugged. "Fine, that's fine, if he's—"

"As well, to build anew the ties between House Frey and House Tully severed in recent years, the Blackfish will marry Lord Walder's fourth daughter, Tyta the Maid."

Robb looked nonplussed. "Mother won't like that much. Nor will uncle Brynden."

"He can come talk to me about if he has a problem," I said gloomily enough "For I'll be marrying another of the Frey girls as well. Finally, your brother Rickon will take a third Frey girl to wife, when he comes of age."

"Why-"

"He wanted you initially," I said with a shrug "But I persuaded him that you were likely to die of some foolishness in battle, and with Edmure captured, Brynden Tully might well become Lord of Riverrun. And Bran being a cripple and your sisters in King's Landing, Rickon would be a safer choice for a Stark marriage. He then noted that I was a widower, and recently without a proper heir..."

To his credit, Robb did not flinch. "I see."

"Do you consent, my lord?"

"Can I refuse?"

"Not if you wish to cross. Not if you wish to keep Walder Frey as anything but a friend."

"I consent," Robb said solemnly.

--

There was little more to be done after that. Brynden had sworn to settle accounts with me soon enough, yet kept silent enough for Robb's sake. Catelyn was all but ready to see me dead at word I'd given her uncle and son both over to Walder Frey. More could have been said, but was not. It was not the time for idle speech.

The army split apart at evenfall, as Robb split off, with him riding Brynden Tully, Stevron Frey and Theon Greyjoy. Behind him followed the entirety of the horse, knights, lancers, freeriders, and mounted bowmen in all. As they did so, the pikes, archers and men-at-arms afoot remained on the eastern bank under my command. With me were Harrion Karstark, Medger Cerwyn and Robett Glover, a few of the lords who were given commands with the infantry, those selected to meet Tywin Lannister head-on.

Twenty thousand Lannister men, against my near eighteen thousand. More than seven thousand of theirs mounted to none of mine, theirs armed in good castle steel and blooded well enough to my crofters and crannogmen.

For good or ill, with failure or success, it would be a bloodbath.

I just had to hope that I wouldn't be amongst the dead at the end of it.