' Sleep Problems '

POV: Helman Tallhart;

King's Road.

Year 289, the sixteenth day of the fourth moon.

Three days after Lord Bolton's arrival in Torrhen's Square.

Ser Helman Tallhart, Master of Torrhen's Square and Protector of Lake Torrhen and Sea Dragon Point, Supreme General of the armed forces of House Tallhart, was awaiting the arrival of Lord Eddard Stark and his retinue of nearly 11,000 men.

The forces of House Tallhart and House Cerwyn were to meet the northern army at Winterfell, the assembly point for the northern land forces.

However, Lord Stark had decided to move two to three days early.

Ser Qyburn, the master of spies in House Tallhart, had sent out a relay reporting that the probable reason for Lord Stark's choice was that his wife, Lady Catelyn, could not bear the presence of the Northern lords. Especially the Umbers.

For four days, the poor woman had endured dinners, banquets, and toasts where all they did was talk about the Hero of the North.

Lord Stark had wisely chosen to relieve this burden on the mother of his children, fearing that Lady Stark might behave 'unseemly' a second time.

Soon, 10,400 northern men would join 2,000 others in the march to Lannisport.

Lord Jorah Mormont, would lead the remaining forces of House Mormont, Dustin, Flint Fingers, Ryswell, and Glover, by sea. Another 5,500 men and 110 ships from the Northern Fleet.

A fleet composed entirely of warships:

30 Galleys;

50 Caravels;

30 restored longships;

Two-thirds of the entire fleet protecting the western coast of the North. The remaining ships would monitor the Frozen Bay and the Burning Bay.

In all, the Northern forces that would contribute to King Robert's punitive expedition would consist of an army of 18,900 Northern men. Well-trained and equipped men-at-arms.

Almost all the Northern lords had restored their army's equipment with new leather armor supplied by House Karstark.

Over three thousand horses and caravan transports had been provided by House Ryswell.

The provisions are mainly from House Cerwyn and Tallhart.

And many other supplies, needed for the expedition, from all the other northern houses.

Ned Stark probably did not expect such a following and commitment from his vassals. Fortunately, as well as being much more prosperous, the North was also buzzing with excitement over the events of the 'Golden and Silver Snow' battle. At least half of the young men in the North had been spurred on to fight, seeking fame and similar glories in this war.

Helman had to prove his son Duncan right again.

[ A good song is more powerful than any bag of gold, order, or prize in beauty. ]

3,000 Starks, 2,200 Umbers, 2,150 Tallharts, 2,000 Boltons, 2,000 Karstarks, 1,500 Dustins, 1,000 Hornwoods, 1,000 Glovers, 1,000 Ryswells, 1,000 Cerwyns, 600 Flint Fingers, 400 Mormonts and even 200 Magnars.

Lord Stark had ordered House Manderly, Flint of Widow's Head, Locke, and Reed to remain in the North to protect the pasture and the east coast. However, the four Houses still sent a small garrison each. In total, a small militia of another 1,000 men represents their contribution to this campaign.

Half of House Tallhart's forces were already in Lannisport.

King Robert would be leaving for the City of the Golden Lions in less than a week.

King Balon Greyjoy surely did not expect the Stag King to gain such a following.

House Bywater, Mallister, Footly, Piper, Rosby, Serret, and other lesser lords of the Crown and Riverlands had already confirmed their participation. Together with the armed forces of the Westlands and the Stormlands, Robert would have gathered over 40,000 men. That together with the nearly twenty thousand men from the North would make up an army of about 60,000 soldiers.

The Royal fleet, along with the Redwine fleet and the Northern fleet, consisted of over 500 ships.

With the loss of over three-quarters of the Drumm Fleet and after Rodrick Greyjoy's defeat at Seagard, King Balon Greyjoy was left with less than four hundred longships.

The Northern spies in Pyke had already informed the Tallhart family, that the King of the Iron Islands had recalled all his vassals to Pyke.

The King was anticipating a last stand in case his brothers, Euron and Victarion, were defeated by the numerous enemy ships. Panic was slowly spreading through the Greyjoy lands...

Denys Drumm's defeat and the theatrical message from House Lannister and Tallhart were creating the desired effect.

Helman was at the side of his wife Myra's cousin, Lord Medger Cerwyn. The two Northern Lords and men of power got along discreetly with each other.

After all, House Cerwyn and Tallhart were one big family at the moment.

Although Helman preferred his son Duncan's company to Medger's, he had left him and Lord Bolton in charge of the rear guard.

Helman was still angry with him...

How many sleepless nights she had spent because of that boy's choices.

Somehow his little snake of a son had managed to wriggle out of the punishment Helman had prepared for him...

He had the perfect person to whom he could delegate that onerous but necessary task, namely, Myra Tallhart.

Only Helman and the Old Gods knew what pain the poor man had to endure when his wife Myra, learned that her husband, the Lord, had given his permission for his son Duncan to lead the Tallhart garrison against the 'Brave Companions'... Perhaps the worst three months of his life. His wife knew his weaknesses and mercilessly struck where it hurt most... both physically and psychologically.

Helman thought Myra would be able to properly punish Duncan, after all, he had disobeyed a direct order from his lord.

But the serpent had a shield ready with him...

Before Myra could go on the attack, Duncan pulled out his card:

[Mother. On Bear Island, I found the woman of my life...

I'm so sorry... but I couldn't let the Ironmen hurt her. I couldn't abandon her or her family!]... Myra fell into that moat of love, righteousness, and chivalry with all her shoes.

Instead of being punished, her son was praised and rewarded.

' Now Myra has become his weapon!

As soon as I try to scold the boy, he puts a blade to my throat just by mentioning her name!

I'm the one who's been feeding such a monster.

... Sigh... Every day my authority as a father becomes less and less influential...

Even if I wanted to I couldn't stop Duncan from one of his crazy ideas... ' Thought a worried father distressingly.

Within an hour at most, Lord Stark would arrive. Already the vanguard led by House Umber could be seen on the horizon.

Another crazy idea of his son would be implemented soon... Perhaps the most dangerous of all.

'May all the gods of this world watch over my son, my family, and my House...'

Father forgive me... I was unable to change your grandson's mind.

Perhaps this will indeed be the end of the legacy you left behind.

Damn you, Duncan! It wasn't enough that you tortured Lady Catelyn.

Now you even want to go and directly threaten LORD STARK IN PERSON!!!!! '

End POV.

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POV: Ned Stark;

Camp on the King's Road. About 100 miles from Moat Cailin.

About five hours after the Tallhart-Cerwyn forces joined the march of the Northern army...

Ned had finally managed to free himself for a moment from all the other Northern lords.

It had been a very trying week for the Lord Protector of the North.

War was never easy to manage, but a war, and the management of the North, was a different kettle of fish.

Many times Ned envied his friend Robert... not because he was king. On that day of all days, Ned would not only have refused to sit on that devilish piece of iron again, but he would also have destroyed it with his own hands.

No, Ned envied Robert of his small council.

Having a Hand of The King and so many other experts in various fields would have served him well at times like these.

Certainly, Ser Rodrick and Maester Luwin contributed a great deal to help him perform his duties and advise him wisely on matters that were impractical for him, but it was not enough.

It was at least three nights in a row that Eddard was able to close his eyes for three or four hours at most.

At times like these, his responsibilities to his people were eating him up inside. It was as if the anxiety felt by any father, in times of concern for the future of his children, was magnified a thousandfold.

The North was enough for him. If he had to think of six more kingdoms... he would surely not be older than thirty.

Now the twenty-six-year-old lord was finally alone in his private tent.

It was just past his dinner hour, in about an hour he would have to perform the last of his duties for the day. Then he would be free to rest.

Tonight he would sleep for at least six hours. He had instructed Jory, who was on duty that night, that if he did not want to swear allegiance to a six-year-old boy... that night his Lord would have to sleep without being disturbed.

'I'll just have to talk to Lord Helman's son and then I can lie down on that pillow and those furs. The Lord Protector of the North thought hopefully.

A voice interrupted his thoughts.

'My Lord, Ser Haymitch is here.' Jory announced.

'Ah, right... Send him in Jory, thank you." Eddard replied. Jory nodded and made way for the knight in the service of House Stark.

' I'd forgotten that I'd called him in a couple of hours ago.... 'Yes, I undoubtedly need to sleep. ' Lord Stark chided himself.

''Lord Stark... Let me tell you, my Lord, you look like shit. You almost look like me." Ser Haymitch said spontaneously when he noticed the huge dark circles under his eyes and the pale appearance of the man in front of him.

"Undoubtedly true, Ser Haymitch... Please be seated." Ned replied, smiling.

"...Mmm, I do not know, my lord.

Should you to die here and now, I could be accused and sentenced to death...

I would by no means want to say or do anything that would cause you the slightest discomfort or physical/mental stress, Lord Stark." Ser Haymitch.

"By now the wine has been drunk and the song is sung, Ser Haymitch. I fear you have already entered this tent, and many witnesses might already claim that you were the only person present before I departed.

Therefore... Have a seat, Ser.

Trust me, you are the only person in this camp right now who could lighten this burden instead of adding to it." Ned replied in an amused tone.

"... Yes... you've convinced me.

Might as well reward your effort for finally being able to make a decent joke, my lord." Ser Haymitch sat down in the chair opposite Ned. A map of Westeros was laid out on the table with various wooden figurines symbolizing allied and enemy forces.

After Ned served a cup of wine to his guest and a cup of water and lemon juice for him, Ned asked:

"Give me your honest opinion on our military situation.

What do you think of our forces?" Ned.

"Promising...

The Umber are looking forward to joining the fray... If someone were to even accidentally wear clothes in House Greyjoy colors, I doubt they'd walk off this field with less than fifty pieces. I can smell the Greatjon bloodlust from here...

These 13,000 men are well armed and ready to fight, Ned.

Lord Magnar's 200 men could be a weakness, but only if misused.

They fight more like wildlings than soldiers. They are undisciplined but fierce.

I would venture to say that I would not want to be in Balon Greyjoy's shoes, now that a storm of steel and blood is about to sweep over him." He finished saying Haymitch giving his honest opinion to the man in front of him. Immediately after speaking, Haymitch allowed himself a well-deserved sip of wine for his incredible vocal effort.

"... Mmm yes, you're not wrong.

Not just the Northmen, but Robert as well...

Balon underestimated the King of the Seven Kingdoms' love of war. He challenged him on what he was born to do.

What do you think of the Tallhart troops?" Ned.

"... Honestly?" Ser Haymitch.

"All you do is spout harsh, ironic, truthful everything that comes into your head, I don't see why you should change your ways just now." Ned.

"Because the answer would upset you, and you're one step away from mental collapse... Words could hurt more than a sword at the right times." Haymitch.

"... I think I can handle one more slash. Then you have to, Haymitch." Ned.

"... If you insist.

I believe those thousand soldiers can prevail in a direct battle against your direct forces.

Yes. Your 3,000 Stark soldiers would lose to those 1,150 Tallharts, Ned. "Ned suffered an unexpected blow at those words.

The man knew Ser Haymitch's true worth. Not only was he a skilled swordsman and battle veteran, but the knight Lord Stark paid a fortune just to keep him was also an excellent military strategist and a man of great insight and discernment into all things war.

Ned, in his humble opinion, was also skilled in military matters, but he had to admit his defeat in the face of Ser Haymitch's mind.

"I think that's a bit of a bold statement... Yes their equipment is excellent and the men seem well trained as well... but..." Ned was interrupted.

"It's not just their equipment Ned...

They outnumber your army in many respects except for numbers.

I've chatted with a couple of Tallhart officers here and there... A division commander, a captain, and a deputy to be exact.

Their command hierarchy is more organized and well distributed than you'd imagine. If a captain or commander were to fall in battle, there would surely be a replacement ready to take over in short order...

On the other hand, if one of your captains were to perish, there would be 500 men who wouldn't know what to do or who to answer to...

They even have a healer for every unit of fifty men, did you know that?...

Excluding the factors, differences in equipment and physical condition of the men, the most decisive factor is the discipline and synchrony of movements of that army.

During the march alone, the footsteps of more than a thousand people could be heard, marching in unison and constantly keeping their places... It will be no different in battle, Ned.

And I'm talking about those thousand regular soldiers...

Those 150 lads following the living legend Bloody Snow... Emm what are they called?" Haymitch asked stuck with a word on the tip of his tongue.

"The unit called 'The Winter Guardians'? " Suggested Ned.

" Yes, them! The Guardians... Well...

My intuition suggests that 150 of them could prevail against half of that regular army... " Haymitch.

" ... If what you say turns out to be correct, that would mean... "Haymitch continued in his place.

"Yes Ned, your assumption is correct.

Lord Helman has the most powerful militia of all the Northern Lords and probably all the Southern Houses as well. As your wartime advisor, I strongly advise against you going into an open battle against House Tallhart in the future. If you should ever have any enmities against your loyal vassal, empty some of your coffers and hire the Golden Company or buy a few thousand Unsullied in Astapor. Because the way I see it, not even a third of all the military forces in the North could stand up to that army." Said Haymitch toasting in honor of House Stark's troubles.

"Yeah... As if I could manage to convince my vassals to march against Torrhen's Square...

The way I see it, it would be a miracle if every House of the North I asked for help simply chose to remain neutral instead of siding with House Tallhart...

You were right Haymitch, I shouldn't have encouraged you to strike so hard at my mind already filled with anxiety, doubt, and worry." Said Ned, also opting for some well-deserved wine. Over the years, Haymitch had repeatedly managed to drag Lord Stark to drink with him during their less than pleasant chats.

"Nah, don't fret so much, my drinking companion.

Depends on what perspective you see it from.

If viewed from the side [The Tallharts are Enemies and Traitors], you should rightly be as distressed as you are now.

On the other hand, if viewed from the sweet perspective [House Tallhart is a loyal and friendly House of the North in the service of House Stark], you should be sleeping peaceful dreams like an infant in the warm and loving arms of a mother. Ahahahah!

Here's to that! To Mother Tallhart! May she always cradle and protect us!" Ned laughed in delight at Haymitch's antics.

He couldn't wait to introduce him to Robert. He would have bet every piece of silver and gold he possessed that the two of them would get along famously.

About forty minutes of frivolous and pleasant talk later...

"I'd better start walking." Said Ned, placing his second, nearly empty cup on the table.

"And where are you off to at this late hour? I thought you had chosen to allow yourself some well-deserved but mostly 'necessary' rest." Haymitch asked curiously.

"I will rest, I promise.

But first I must go and have a chat with Lord Helman's son, Duncan Tallhart...

I promised him we could talk alone and undisturbed for a while in the evening. I can't miss this appointment." Said Ned as he prepared to walk up the hill about 600 feet away from that tent.

"Uuhg... Bad choice, my Lord." Haymitch.

"Why do you think that?" Ned.

"I had the pleasure of having a ' chat' with that boy about four years ago. A week or two before I met you." Haymitch.

"And? Should I be worried about something? " Ned.

" Mmm... Hard to say. I don't know if you should be worried about anything he'll do.... but more about what he's gonna say.

Now, in particular, I wouldn't go mouth to mouth with that predator." Warned Haymitch in a wry, slightly amused tone.

"Explain yourself, Ser." Ned.

"I talked to the boy for less than 20 minutes at the time...

I couldn't sleep that night."