CHAPTER 185
North of the Inn at the Crossroads, the eastern side stretched toward the foothills of the Mountains of the Moon, covered by dense forests.
To the west flowed the swift waters of the Green Fork.
Between the Ruby Ford to the south and the Mountains of the Moon to the north lay a broad, open plain with almost no natural cover.
It was an ideal battlefield.
Neither the Westerlands host nor the Northern alliance could hope to conceal an ambush here.
Earlier in the War of the Five Kings, Roose Bolton had attempted a surprise night attack upon this very ground.
Tywin Lannister, however, had detected the movement in time.
The armies had clashed in what became known as the Battle of the Green Fork.
Ser Kevan Lannister had fought there as well.
Serving beneath his brother's command, he had led the infantry of the center while Tywin crushed Roose Bolton's army.
The Lannisters had paid only modest losses among their reserves and mountain clansmen while inflicting devastating casualties upon nearly half of Bolton's ten thousand men.
It had been a clear tactical victory.
Yet looking back afterward, Kevan understood the truth.
Roose Bolton had never expected to win that battle.
Its true purpose had been to delay Tywin long enough for Robb Stark to sweep west and relieve Riverrun.
The result had been catastrophic.
Ser Jaime Lannister had been defeated in the Whispering Wood and taken prisoner.
From that moment onward, the Lannisters had fought from a disadvantage.
Now, returning once again to the Green Fork, Kevan had no intention of repeating that mistake.
Even armed with Roose Bolton's intelligence, he advanced carefully.
Every movement was measured.
Every possibility was considered.
His caution soon proved worthwhile.
After only two hours of marching, the army had advanced scarcely two miles north of the Ruby Ford before the Northern alliance appeared ahead along the Kingsroad.
The moment Kevan saw the countless banners opposite him, his expression darkened.
The green bear of House Mormont.
The mailed fist of House Glover's vanguard.
The giant chains of House Umber.
The merman of White Harbor.
The crossed keys of House Locke.
The black tree of House Blackwood.
The red stallion of House Bracken.
Banner after banner stretched across the plain.
"Damn."
"I've been deceived."
"Bolton lied."
Looking across the battlefield, Kevan estimated that the enemy numbered well above ten thousand.
His heart filled with both anger and alarm.
This was hardly the handful of stubborn Stark loyalists described in Bolton's letter.
This looked like the main Northern and Riverlands army.
For a brief moment, Kevan believed he had marched directly into a carefully prepared trap.
Bolton wanted both sides to destroy each other.
"Roose Bolton..."
"I'll skin you alive."
He quietly cursed before immediately forcing himself back under control.
There could be no retreat now.
The armies had already seen one another.
The arrow had left the bow.
Only moments later, the Northern alliance sounded its war horns.
Thousands of soldiers surged forward.
Yet almost immediately, Kevan noticed something unexpected.
"No..."
"This isn't right."
His experienced eyes carefully studied the advancing host.
The momentum appeared terrifying.
The formation did not.
Instead of one disciplined army, he saw confusion everywhere.
The spearmen of House Umber charged so aggressively that they collided with the White Harbor men advancing beside them.
House Blackwood and House Bracken competed to reach the enemy first.
Their soldiers shouted at one another and even began pushing each other while advancing.
Lady Maege Mormont's smaller force became squeezed toward the flank by several Riverlords and struggled to maintain formation.
Some Riverlords deliberately lingered toward the rear, clearly attempting to preserve their own strength.
Everywhere Kevan looked...
Disorder.
Confusion.
No unified command.
Even Vargo Hoat, commander of the Brave Companions, immediately recognized the weakness.
The enemy before him looked less like an army than a gathering of individual household levies, each following its own lord.
Fortunately for him...
The Brave Companions excelled at preying upon such enemies.
"Spread out!"
"Surround them!"
"As always!"
Pulling down his grotesque goat-shaped helm, Vargo Hoat shrieked wildly.
Without even waiting for Kevan's permission, he charged forward.
Behind him, the Brave Companions crashed toward House Umber's advancing spearmen like a tidal wave.
Within moments, steel met steel.
The entire battlefield exploded into slaughter.
The screams of dying men echoed across the Green Fork.
Watching the battle unfold, Kevan finally understood the enemy's greatest weakness.
"This isn't Bolton's trap."
"They truly have no commander."
His eyes suddenly shone with excitement.
Bolton had not deceived him after all.
"A wolf pack without an alpha..."
"No matter how fierce..."
"Is only loose sand."
His thoughts immediately settled upon the Riverlords.
"Break the Riverlands."
"The North will collapse beside them."
He immediately began issuing orders.
"Send word to Vargo Hoat."
"I want his company holding the enemy's vanguard."
"For every half hour they hold..."
"He earns double pay."
The messenger immediately departed.
Kevan then turned toward his assembled commanders.
"Ser Addam Marbrand."
"Take every mounted knight."
"Ride around their front."
"Drive directly into their right flank."
"Ser Amory Lorch."
"Take half the infantry."
"Support the Brave Companions."
"The moment they weaken..."
"Replace them."
He pointed toward the Riverlords.
"Ignore the North."
"Crush the Riverlands first."
"Tear their line apart."
One precise order followed another.
Instead of crushing the enemy head-on, Kevan concentrated his strongest forces against the weakest point in the opposing army.
His commanders rode away.
The battle immediately began shifting in the Lannisters' favor.
By the time House Umber had become completely entangled with the Brave Companions, House Blackwood and House Bracken were still arguing over precedence.
Nearly two thousand soldiers remained delayed.
That hesitation proved fatal.
Ser Addam Marbrand struck first.
Leading the Westerlands cavalry, he smashed directly into House Blackwood's exposed flank.
"Ride them down!"
One devastating cavalry charge tore through the Blackwood ranks.
Without slowing, Addam wheeled his horse.
"Again!"
Before he could launch another charge, however, the Karstark cavalry intercepted him.
"Damn you!"
Rickard Karstark swung his sword furiously.
"What sort of battle is this?"
He shouted desperately toward the Riverlords.
"Bracken!"
"Help Lord Blackwood!"
His words vanished beneath the roar of battle.
Even had Lord Bracken heard them...
He would have ignored them.
Watching his ancient rivals being crushed secretly pleased him.
Instead, he led his own men directly into the Brave Companions.
The Bracken soldiers successfully repelled the first assault.
For a brief moment, they even counterattacked.
Then the weight of numbers overwhelmed them.
The mercenaries attacked like starving wolves.
"Hold!"
"For House Bracken!"
Lord Bracken personally cut down one sellsword after another.
His courage changed nothing.
Soon, Urswyck, one of Vargo Hoat's lieutenants, smashed through the Bracken standard.
The banner fell.
Its bearer died beneath dozens of blows.
The sight shattered the soldiers' morale.
"My lord!"
"We're surrounded!"
Bracken looked around desperately.
Every direction contained enemy soldiers.
Only the distant Umbers still fought on.
Even they were steadily being overwhelmed.
"If we stay..."
"We all die."
His captain grabbed his arm.
"We must withdraw!"
Lord Bracken closed his eyes briefly.
Every instinct screamed against retreat.
Yet remaining meant annihilation.
"...Retreat."
He forced the words from his lips.
"Toward House Umber."
"We break through together."
That single decision became the final blow against the entire alliance.
The fleeing remnants of House Blackwood smashed directly into the Umber spearmen already struggling against the Brave Companions.
"Move!"
Greatjon Umber roared.
"You bloody cowards!"
No one listened.
Panic spread across the battlefield.
"House Bracken is fleeing!"
"We're surrounded!"
"Run!"
One house broke.
Then another.
Then another.
Like falling dominoes, the entire center of the Northern alliance collapsed before the panic spread toward both wings.
From a nearby rise, surrounded by nearly two thousand reserve soldiers, Kevan Lannister watched everything unfold.
A cold smile appeared upon his face.
"The moment has come."
Slowly raising his longsword, he pointed toward the broken enemy.
"Advance."
"All forces."
"Forward!"
The Lannister war horns sounded.
Every remaining Westerlands soldier surged into battle.
Like a lion pursuing wounded prey, they charged after the collapsing Northern alliance.
The rout had begun.
Yet just as despair settled over the Northern lords...
A new banner suddenly burst onto the battlefield from behind the Lannister army.
A crimson field.
Upon it shone the silver mailed fist of House Glover.
The tide of battle was about to change.