Manoeuvres

Again and again Robb's eyes roved over the map, committing the distribution of troops, state of supplies and every minuscule detail to memory and then playing out scenarios in his mind. He tried to put himself in the mind of Tywin Lannister and tried to predict how the Old Lion would react depending on whatever move he made.

That was when the door to the war room opened and in-stepped Lord Mallister. The aged, but still handsome Lord of Seagard crossing the threshold of the room with slow steady steady strides. He then bowed low, one hand crossing over his chest.

"Your grace."

"Lord Mallister." Robb greeted tiredly, he had forced his men to ride through the night and most of the day to get from the Golden Tooth to Riverrun as soon as possible. He had then locked himself in the war room and had since spent every waking minute trying to figure out an answer for his current predicament. "I wasn't expecting you, how fares you're campaign in the Riverlands?"

"It is a success, your grace." Lord Mallister rose, resting both hands on the handle of his blade as he moved forwards. "Castle Darry opened its gates as soon as we arrived and I have since received ravens from Lord Hawick, Mooton and Wode recognising you as the King of the Riverlands and have even committed troops to your cause."

"How many?"

"In total, a thousand in all." Lord Mallister informed and while it was good news, Robb didn't smile. He'd found himself doing so less and less as the war dragged on.

"Very good, Lord Mallister. Your skill and deeds have not gone unnoticed, nor will they go unrewarded once this was war is finished with." Lord Mallister bowed his head. "You are still stationed at Darry, yes?"

"I am, your grace. Nine thousand soldiers of the Riverland awaiting your orders." Lord Mallister didn't even hesitate, studying the map and correctly summarising why the young King looked so tired and haggard. "I received news of the Greyjoy invasion in the North, may I ask, what do you plan to do?"

"The Northmen at Golden Tooth and at the Fords have all sent envoys demanding we march back North and beat back the Ironborn. I have managed to quell their anger for now, but for how long I do not know. It all depends on how the Greatjon and my brother does up North." Robb muttered, Lord Mallister looking to his King in confusion.

"Am I correct in assuming that you…foresaw this as a possibility when sending the Greyjoy to treat with his father?"

Robb nodded his head. "Aye, I had my suspicions. Though I had never imagined that Theon would betray me, but it seems that he has done so. It is no matter, our reports from Lord Reed indicate that the Greyjoy have so far being probing our defences along the western shore."

Lord Mallister looked at where Robb indicated and he could see why the young King was worried. The Greyjoy's had already captured Deepwood Motte, and most of the western shore, Ironborn raiders even pushing inwards and claiming Flints Finger south of the Blazewaterbay and had even pushed in and claimed Moat Cailin, effectively cutting off of the North from the south.

There was some hope though, there seemed to be a host stationed at Breakstone Hill near the south of the Northern Mountains. Another in the Greywater Watch and another near Winterfell.

"How many men, do the enemy have, your grace?"

"In all, the Ironborn seem to be throwing practically everything have. Our last reports indicated over twenty thousand. Though we are lucky that they are spread out all over their eastern shore."

"And the North?"

This is where Robb sighed. "No more than six thousand. Many of the keeps in the west have called in as many men at arms as they can and have shut their gates. Hunkering down for sieges no doubt, a smart plan but many of the eastern keeps who are untouched have decided to do the same. My brother is at Breakstone Hill with over four thousand men at his command. Rodrik Cassel has raised a force of just over a thousand men, though more seem to be joining him and Reed has barely five hundred men with him."

Lord Mallister frowned, the true weight of the situation dawning on him. It was certainly not as bad as it could have been, but the situation was grim nonetheless.

"Could I suggest something, your grace?"

Robb waved his hand, sitting down in the chair and rubbing his eyes tiredly. "By all means, Lord Mallister."

"You are King in the North and the Trident. You are bound by both blood and duty to protect both the North and the Riverland. The greatest strength of the Ironborn is their navy and their greatest advantage is the manoeuvrability it provides them."

Robb nodded his head having identified that as one of the greatest strengths of the Ironborn.

"However, they are not soldiers. They are raiders and reavers, they don't know how to fight in formations and they don't have discipline needed to make them truly dangerous. When Balon Greyjoy's eldest son, Rodrick attempted to take Seagard in the Greyjoy Rebellion, they did not besiege it. They attacked it in full force despite not having the men needed to take it."

Lord Mallister smiled grimly remembering the Young Krakens foolish actions.

"The Ironborn believe that starving a city is a cowards way to fight. All the North needs to do is hold out, while it will initially be devastating and the Ironborn seem unstoppable. Their style of fighting will eventually reach a limit and it will bring grace consequences upon them. The Iron Islands are not a prosperous place and their military is the smallest out of the Seven Kingdoms. With their tactics on sieges and in land battles, they will eventually exhaust all their manpower."

Robb glared at the man. "But not before raping and pillaging my lands and people."

"I know, your grace." Lord Mallister admitted and Robb's glare intensified. "But you cannot march North and free your lands. If you do, our advantages in the war will be lost. We have not lost a battle and while the invasion of the North has certainly damaged morale, it is still incredibly high and the legend of the Young Wolf, the King in the North only serves to increase it. Our front on the Fords keeps Tywin tied up just like it does for our own men, but with the Golden Tooth taken and our foothold in the Westerlands secured, we have put pressure onto the Old Lion."

Robb listened, his glare lessening slightly.

"Soon, Tywin Lannister will be forced to make a move. Whatever move he makes will be one he hopes will shift the tide of the war back into his favour. Marching North with a sizeable force will only weaken our other fronts. That will give Tywin all the opportunity he needs and he will seize it."

"So what do you propose?" Robb asked and Lord Mallister smiled.

"Just like the North came to aid of the Riverlands, let us return the favour." He took the figure denoting to his own host and positioned it next to Lord Reed's one. "I have nine thousand men, let me take some men North and help beat back the Ironborn."

Robb looked over the map, his mind whirling as he tried to play the scenario out in his mind. And as he did, a growing smile came onto his face, one that Lord Mallister noted.

"I apologise, Lord Mallister." Robb spoke in terms of his earlier actions. "It seems that I have been viewing the Ironborn as a standing military force, well-trained and disciplined like the Lannisters. I forgot that they're nothing but raiders."

"What is your plan?"

"Take four thousand men North, join with Lord Reed and contain the Ironborn on the western coast. One thousand shall come with me to the Westerlands to join the camp, there I shall further the progress on that front. The remaining four thousand shall remain at Darry under the command of a man you trust, though I want you to move those men a few miles south, closer to Harrenhall."

As Robb spoke, Lord Mallister's eyes came alight as he began to understand the plan the Young Wolf had come up. And he approved wholeheartedly.

"I if may, perhaps we should move Lord Tytos Blackwood to take command of the forces at Darry. If I understand what your aim is, his defensive expertise will serve to be especially useful in that area. I would suggest then having either Ser Brynden or Lord Edmure take command of the northern flank while Lord Bracken takes command of the remaining area." Lord Mallister suggested, but Robb shook his head.

"I agree with your decision to move Lord Blackwood to Darry, his defensive expertise will be invaluable in that area. However, Ser Brynden and Lord Edmure need to remain where they are if my plans are to work."

"I understand, your grace. I am just wary of having Lord Bracken and Lord Blackwood at such a vital area. I would suggest someone else, but Lord Bracken is an excellent field commander." The Lord of Seagard murmured, frowning in thought.

"You speak of the long standing feud between House Bracken and Blackwood." Lord Mallister nodded his head and Robb joined the man in frowning in thought. Eventually though, he shook his head. "They were both there when I was named King, correct?"

"Yes, I believe Lord Blackwood was one of the most vocal lords, your grace."

"Then tell them that they are to not let their feud interfere with their duties in the war. If it does, they will face a similar punishment to what awaits Walder Frey once the war is done." Lord Mallister bowed his head and twisted on his heel, heading to rest before leaving for his men on the morrow.

As one of his most trusted and capable commanders left, Robb leaned further back into his chair and let his eyes slowly close. Beside him, Grey Wind looked up upon listening to the soft snoring from the his master.

Huffing, the Direwolf rose up and moved closer, resting down back on all fours but keeping his senses alert.