Jon XIII

The room was in pandemonium as the lords of the North and Riverlands got at each other's throats. The northern lords were beyond furious that their homeland was being invaded and raided by ironborn and all wanted to return north and drive the invaders out. The lords of the Riverlands were angered by this and argued that their homes were also under attack, and yet they weren't fleeing from the fight.

Overall, it was chaos.

Jon, again, was leaning against the wall, watching the argument. He didn't take a true seat on the council. He hadn't been asked to join, and so he felt like it wasn't his place to speak or join in on the conversation unless asked to give his opinion.

The Blackfish continued to try and take back control of the council but was having little to no success. Whenever he had some semblance of order, it would crack and shatter when another argument flared up and the entire room would dissolve back into chaos. The older knight was done being patient.

"Enough!" Ser Brynden bellowed, slamming his hands on the table as he came to his feet. "Enough, all of you!"

The multiple arguments in the room slowly came to a halt as all eyes looked towards the older knight, whose face was dark with anger. Ser Brynden was a grim, serious man most of the time, with a dry sense of humor that could be like a whip on any he turned it on. He very rarely lost his cool, but when he did, it was a terrifying sight.

"Shut up and listen, all of you." Ser Brynden growled now that there wasn't a need to raise his voice. The lords retook their seats, though still sending glares and dirty looks at the men they had just argued with. When everyone was seated and still silent, the Blackfish continued. "I understand that you want to return north," he said, looking at the northern lords. "And we will not leave the North to be invaded. But we are sworn to King Robb, and you can not abandon him."

"What would you have us do?" The Greatjon rumbled angrily. "Sit here on our arses while our homes are taken by those iron bastards? Led by that traitor Theon?"

"Never." Ser Brynden responded instantly, his voice becoming a little less violent now that he had firm control of the room. "I understand that you fear for your homes, I do, but we have to hold to our oaths. I promise you, the North will not go undefended, but we can not send more than half of our force back home, not when Tywin Lannister is sitting on our bloody doorstep."

"What would you have us do?" Lord Glover questioned angrily.

"Lord Bolton," Ser Brynden said, looking at the Lord of the Dreadfort. "Take your men, along with what's left of the Dustins and Ryswells, and march North."

To Jon, Lord Bolton was the easy choice. He was the next best commander next to Roland Hawker and combined with his men and two smaller northern houses, it should be more than enough to provide a decent host to fend off the ironborn invasion until more northerners could be rallied to protect the North.

Lord Bolton nodded. "Ser Brynden, allow me to take the Frey's as well. I will not be able to rally more men till I am in the North."

Ser Brynden glanced towards Ser Stevron, who looked surprised at the man's request. The aging heir of the Crossing looked backed at Ser Brynden, nodding slowly. "If Lord Bolton needs our assistance, then we are more than willing to help."

Ser Brynden frowned. He did not trust the Freys or Lord Bolton. The Freys have always been soft-spined, umm-ing and ahh-ing over everything they did. They could never be relied upon to stand by your side when things got tough. Then there was Roose Bolton, a man that seemed equally untrustworthy.

But Ser Stevron was one of the better Freys. He had always tried to break away from his father's unfortunate shadow, no matter how hard that was. He was someone Ser Brynden could trust.

Though just barely.

"Fine." Ser Brynden allowed, although loathing to give up 4,000 men more. "You said there were men you could rally in the North?"

Roose nodded. "My second wife was a Ryswell. I'll be able to bring Lord Ryswell and his daughter, Lady Dustin, to my side when I enter the North."

"Bastards should have been by our side from the start." Lord Karstark grumbled. "Pure rubbish, ignoring the call for vengeance."

When Robb called his banners, he received scant support from the Dustins and Ryswells. Barbrey Dustin had always been in love with Brandon Stark, Lord Eddard's older brother who had been murdered on the order of the Mad King. When Ned took up the title as Lord of Winterfell, Barbrey had been unhappy, but that didn't stop her husband, Willam, from going south during Robert's Rebellion.

All ties between Barrowtown and Winterfell had been severed when Eddard Stark had returned to the North without Willam Dustin, returning only the man's horse, but not his bones. Since then, the woman had always held a grudge against Ned Stark for bringing the bones of his sister home, but not those of her husband.

That had been why the Dustins had sent so few soldiers to help the young Robb Stark rescue his father. An act her father, Lord Rodrik Ryswell of the Rills, had followed as well.

Ser Brynden nodded to Lord Karstark, acknowledging the point. "Regardless, if you can muster them, do so. Once you have their men, send the Freys back south. They'll be needed here."

Lord Bolton nodded, acknowledging the order.

"Have the remaining men in the North been rallied to repel the ironborn?" Lord Blackwood asked curiously.

"Ser Rodrik is mustering a small host at Winterfell." Eddard Karstark answered. "So far, it's only made up of men from Winterfell and Castle Cerwyn. Hopefully, the Manderly's or even the Mountain Clans can lend their aid as well."

"I will send a raven to my son to muster what men he can." Lord Bolton promised.

"Your bastard son?" Ser Wylis Manderly asked suspiciously. "There's been some foul rumors about the boy. How do we know he can be trusted."

Lord Roose raised an eyebrow. "Baseless lies, Ser Wylis. No witness has ever come forth to verify my son's alleged actions."

"I agree with Manderly." the Greatjon rumbled. "The rumors are worse than foul. They're sadistic."

"Lies, my lord." Lord Roose argued calmly. "My son has been accused of no crime and has been found innocent of any allegations. He is ready to show his loyalty to the North."

Ser Brynden looked between the northern lords and Roose. He was curious to know what these rumors were, but it was not his place. If Roose said that his son can be trusted, then Ser Brynden had no choice but to believe him.

"Do it," he ordered. "I'll leave you to coordinate with Ser Rodrik when you cross the Neck."

"What's happened to your brother, Lord Roland?" Lord Mallister asked, looking at the grim lord of Eagle's Roost.

"The bastards were able to pull my brother south towards Cape Kraken." Lord Roland grunted. "Balon sent part of the Iron Fleet to distract him while Victarion and the other captains went around my brother."

"How do you know all this?" Lord Bracken asked, surprised.

"My brother has the mate to the hunting falcon I have with me," Hawker explained. "Mates can find each other across any distance and return to their masters. His falcon arrived when the raven from Ser Rodrik did."

"What does your brother plan on doing now?" Ser Brynden asked.

"He's heading back north towards the Stoney Shore," Roland explained. "He's making his way to Blazewater Bay where he hopes to reprovision at Barrowtown. He intends to then leave ships at the mouth of the river that leads to Torrehn's Square and block the ironborn in as he sails north and deals with the others.

"Why not attack Victarion?" Eddard Karstark asked. "Kill their leader."

"Victarion Greyjoy is not someone you attack." Lord Hawker explained gruffly. "Not without a lot of bloody help. No, my brother will keep the fucker contained on the river while he sends the rest of the Iron Fleet to the bottom of the fucking sea."

"What about my home?" Lord Glover asked angrily.

Deepwood Motte, a castle on the edge of the Wolfwood across from Bear Island, was home to House Glover. It was one of the locations in the North that had been attacked by the ironborn. The other areas were Bear Island, Torrhen's Square, and the Stony Shore. Jon had never seen it himself, but Ser Rodrik said that it was built in the fashion of a ringfort like the First Men built when they first settled the land.

"Ser Rodrik can deal with that." Ser Brynden said. "That is the best place to attack the ironborn when they're away from their ships. He knows that and will exploit it."

"Has there been any word on the king?" Lord Mallister asked now that the issue of the ironborn in the North was more or less settled.

Ser Brynden looked at Jon, gesturing for him to explain. Jon nodded and stepped forward, crossing his arms. "My brother had a raven sent from Highgarden. He's ok and has gained control of the army of the Reach. Roughly eighty thousand men. From what I understand, he plans to go after Stannis for killing Renly."

"Stannis killed his brother?" Bracken asked. "That's madness."

Jon nodded. "Aye, it's a bitter thought. But if Robb's believes that Stannis did it, then my brother is going to do his best to bring Stannis to justice on the account of kinslaying." Jon explained. "I'm sure he'll send another rider or raven with his orders for us."

"Did he say how he managed to gain the armies of the Reach?" Edmure asked.

Jon shook his head. "His grace left a lot of information out unfortunately. As of right now, all I know is that he has a mighty host and means to head into the Stormlands with it."

"So what do we do now?" Edmure asked, looking between his uncle and Jon. It was a question on all of their minds.

"Have we secured our territories in the Westerlands?" Ser Brynden asked.

"From Banefort to Hornvale." Lord Glover answered. "All flying northern banners."

"Lord Umber, Lord Gover, take half of the northern force and take Crakehall. Lord Karstark and Lady Mormont will take Cornfield." Ser Brynden ordered. "Edmure, you and Ser Marq will take five hundred riders each and patrol around High Heart and Pinkmaiden. Just those areas," he growled, looking at the two men. "The Mountain and his raiders have been spotted in that area, as well as another group known as the Bloody Mummers. They are sellswords under Tywin's employ. Stay away from the Mountain, but put down the sellswords if you come across them."

"What about the Brotherhood without Banners?" Ser Marq asked curiously.

The group known as the Brotherhood without Banners was a band of outlaws that had, for whatever reason, been waging guerilla warfare against the lannisters in the southern Riverlands. They had even clashed with the Mountain and his raiders from time to time. A few of the merchants able to make it from the south to the northern Riverlands have said that the Brotherhood has protected many villages and hamlets from the marauders, even providing food when possible.

The council still hasn't learned who led the group, but there have been rumors that they have even attacked northern patrols who had been caught harassing villagers and defenseless peasants, showing that they weren't allied with any side.

"Capture them." Ser Brynden said after a moment. "Their actions, while honorable in origin, have become criminal as of late. I want them brought to Riverrun if possible."

"What are the rest of us supposed to do?" Lord Bracken asked, annoyed that others had been given important tasks.

"I will give you all assignments later. But for now, we are well stocked with food and resources. When we move out or run short, I will send more parties into the Westerlands to get us more supplies."

The older knight's answer seemed to placate many of the lords who hadn't been given roles to do. The lords, while acknowledging they were at war, longed to finish fighting and go home with their men. Sitting in Riverrun, with their men camped outside, was beginning to become dull and boring for many of them.

Ser Brynden rapped his knuckles on the table. "That will be all for today," he said. "We have work to do."