Chapter 259 245: The Trade
"Edmure!" Catelyn stepped forward, grabbing her brother's shoulders with both hands. She looked him up and down carefully, her eyes filled with worry.
She only breathed a sigh of relief once she confirmed Edmure had no obvious injuries, but that breath immediately turned into a sigh mixed with heartache, anger, and disappointment at his failure to live up to expectations.
"You... how could you be so reckless?" Catelyn's voice was very low and trembling. "Father entrusted Riverrun and The Riverlands to you; is this how you repay his trust?"
"Uncle Brynden has fought for the family all his life, only for it to end with him having to... for you..." She couldn't go on, her eyes reddening as she looked away. She didn't use words like 'die' or 'be captured,' but the meaning was clear to all three in the tent.
Edmure's eyes grew red again, and he grabbed his sister's hand like a drowning man clutching a piece of driftwood.
"Sister, I know I was wrong, I really know now... I regret it... So we must save Uncle Brynden. I have to get him out. You have to help me, sister; you have to get Robb to help me."
As he spoke, his pleading gaze turned toward the silent Robb. The meaning was all too clear: The Riverlands' army was gone, and the only ones who could save the Blackfish now were the Northern forces under Robb's command.
Robb sat there, deep contemplation buried in his blue eyes.
He did not look at Edmure, nor did he immediately respond to his mother's gaze.
The news of The Riverlands army's destruction weighed on his heart like a massive boulder. Reason was screaming—the terrifying descriptions from the routed Soldiers, and that dragon that had yet to appear...
All of it told him that leading a weary, resentful Northern army further south to face the Targaryens head-on was extremely unwise, perhaps even suicidal.
His army wasn't going there to intimidate; they were likely going there to die.
But another voice came from his father, Eddard Stark—from the honor flowing through his blood.
That honor seemed to take his father's voice, questioning him in his ear:
You are the King in the North and of the The Trident. The lords of The Riverlands answered your call to war and bled for you. Brynden Tully, even more so, fought on the battlefield for you.
Now, they are in grave danger and their homes are on the brink of ruin. Are you, as King, going to turn tail and run like a frightened rabbit, hiding back in the North and watching them be swallowed up?
The two voices warred fiercely in his mind, casting a thick gloom over his handsome face.
Catelyn watched her son's furrowed brow and tightly set lips. No one knew a son better than his mother; she understood Robb's internal struggle all too well. She knew what honor and duty meant to a Stark—it was an instinct carved into their very bones.
But she also saw the anger of the Northern lords, the low morale of the army, and the closed gates of The Twins. As a mother, she felt for the burden her son carried; as a daughter of House Tully, she could not stand by and watch the misfortune of her brother and uncle.
She walked to Robb's side, placed a hand gently on his shoulder, and spoke softly, "Robb, you have inherited your father's honor in your bones."
"Ser Brynden fought alongside you at the Whispering Wood. The Soldiers of The Riverlands have shed blood for your crown. They honor you as King and have entrusted their lives to you. Now they face a great disaster and look to you for help..."
She paused, her gaze sweeping over Edmure before returning to Robb's face, her tone growing heavier. "This is the moment that tests a King's mettle. A Stark has never turned their back when friends and vassals were in need."
Robb looked up at his mother, deep exhaustion in his eyes. "I know, Mother."
"I know my responsibility, but..." He looked away, as if his gaze could pierce through the tent to the restless military camp outside.
"The Northern lords are not all of one mind with me. The Freys at The Twins are blocking our way home, and the Ironborn are raiding and pillaging our lands. Every one of them is desperate to return. It is I who, by royal decree, have forced them to stay south."
"Such an army, with hearts set on their ravaged homes, with a watchful ally at their backs, facing a terrifying enemy that can crush fifteen thousand men in half a day... Mother, do you truly think such an army has a chance of victory?"
He closed his eyes slightly, his voice so low it was almost a whisper to himself: "Perhaps... I really shouldn't have been so willful..."
He didn't say it explicitly, but both Catelyn and Edmure knew he was referring to breaking his marriage pact with the Freys.
It was that very act that had become the catalyst for all their current troubles.
Silence fell over the tent. Edmure kept his head down, and Catelyn fell silent as well. She could urge Robb to take responsibility, but she could not conjure a high-spirited, unified army out of thin air, nor could she force open the gates of The Twins.
In that suffocating silence, Edmure suddenly raised his head, a spark of inspiration catching amidst his chaotic thoughts. He spoke urgently, his voice cracking with excitement:
"Robb! The Twins! Walder Frey!"
Both Robb and Catelyn looked at him.
Edmure licked his dry lips, struggling to organize his words. "I know Walder Frey. The old man is greedy, vengeful, and prizes his pride above all else. But he is also a shrewd man."
"He wouldn't dare truly and completely offend you, and the entire North! He's blocking the crossing now and demanding an exorbitant price mostly because he feels he's lost face and has no way to back down gracefully!"
"As long as we... as long as we give him a dignified enough way out, he will definitely take it!"
"A way out?" Robb frowned, his voice cold. "What way out? Am I, the King in the North, to go and bow my head in apology personally? Or satisfy his insulting conditions?"
What he didn't say was: did he really have to hand over hostages, or even... hand over Jeyne? That was absolutely impossible.
Edmure keenly caught the flash of resistance and the deeper chill in Robb's eyes. He waved his hands hurriedly, "No, no, not you! It's... it's me!"
He seemed ignited by this sudden idea, his speech quickening. "A marriage alliance! Isn't what Frey cares about most the failed alliance? He feels the dignity of House Frey has been trampled upon!"
"Robb, you have already married Jeyne, and the marriage contract cannot be fulfilled; that is a fact. But... the one to be wed doesn't necessarily have to be you!"
He took a deep breath, as if using all his strength to voice the thought circling in his mind:
"I am the Lord of Riverrun, the Lord Paramount of the Trident, and the Head of House Tully. What if I marry a daughter of House Frey?
Surely that wouldn't be considered an insult to House Frey?"
"This way, everyone saves face. You, the King in the North, did not intentionally betray your ally, you simply followed your heart. I, the Liege Lord of The Riverlands, am willing to wed into one of my most important vassal families to strengthen the alliance. And he, Walder Frey, gains a Duke for a son-in-law and plenty of prestige!"
Edmure was winded after finishing his speech, but a small flame of hope burned in his eyes.
He looked at Robb, then at Catelyn, waiting urgently for a response.
Robb looked at Edmure with some surprise.
This uncle, who in his memory was reckless and short-sighted, had actually come up with such a... though a bit forced, perhaps feasible political solution in this desperate situation?
It was indeed unexpected. This was undoubtedly taking the greatest responsibility and sacrifice upon House Tully itself.
Seeing Robb was moved, Edmure struck while the iron was hot, a bitter and helpless smile appearing on his face:
"As for the looks of the Frey daughters... I've heard some rumors. So be it," he sighed, his expression darkening. "This disaster, in the end, was due to my incompetence. I lost The Riverlands army and dragged the North down with me."
"If this can solve the Frey problem, allow the army to return north, or let you deal with the south without worries... then let them be as ugly as they may. It is a price House Tully should pay. As for heirs..."
His voice lowered, a complex look flashing across his face. "House Tully always needs an heir. As for the rest... perhaps after the wedding, I can have some... distractions."
He vaguely alluded to the possibility of mistresses.
Robb did not comment on Edmure's final mutterings about heirs; that was House Tully's private business.
He contemplated, his fingers tapping gently on the back of his chair.
Edmure's proposal, while sounding like a massive sacrifice for House Tully, was actually perhaps the only feasible way to break the deadlock and secure Frey support.
Using a marriage to gain passage through The Twins, and perhaps even the support of several thousand Frey Soldiers, would at least ensure they weren't stabbed in the back.
"This might be a way, Uncle," Robb said slowly, his voice much more stable. "But I fear a marriage alone might not be enough to fully satisfy Lord Walder. His appetite has always been large."
Edmure immediately said, "I understand! Besides the alliance, Riverrun... House Tully is willing to pay a large bride price, or rather, compensation."
"Gold dragons, grain... whatever he asks for, as long as House Tully can still provide it!" To save Brynden and stabilize The Riverlands, Edmure was truly willing to pay a heavy price now.
Looking at the desperate look in his uncle's eyes, the last bit of Robb's resentment over the crushing defeat dissipated, replaced by a heavy sense of responsibility.
Regardless, he was a Stark, and also a grandson of House Tully—the King in the North and of the The Trident.
"Then, we might as well try," Robb finally nodded, making his decision. "If you can convince Walder Frey to reach a settlement, open the crossing, and even... persuade him to send part of his army to assist us."
"Then we can let some of the most urgent and heavily damaged Northern lords return home first to save their lands. Meanwhile, I can lead the remaining army to stay here, stabilize the situation in The Riverlands, and look for an opportunity..."
He didn't finish, but his intention to find a chance to rescue the Blackfish and even contend with Aegon Targaryen was clear.
This was undoubtedly a compromise, an attempt to balance both sides, but it made both feel inadequate.
Dividing the forces meant neither side would be strong enough, but it was better than the entire army being trapped on the south bank or heading south into an obviously disadvantageous battle.
Catelyn had been listening quietly, and now she finally spoke, her voice firm:
"Tomorrow morning, I will take Edmure and personally go to The Twins to see Walder Frey again."
She looked at Robb, her eyes reflecting a mother's support and the resolve of the eldest daughter of House Tully. "We will do our best to convince him. For Brynden, for The Riverlands, and for the North."
Robb stood up and walked to his mother and uncle, his gaze sweeping over them both.
"Then, so it shall be."
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