CHAPTER 189
Bolton?
Roose Bolton?
How could it be Roose Bolton?
For a moment, expressions of utter disbelief appeared on the faces of every lord in the tent.
None of them could understand how the traitor could possibly be Roose Bolton.
Some even turned furious, glaring suspiciously at Kevan Lannister.
"Ser Kevan, you are one of the most respected commanders in the Seven Kingdoms. Do you truly expect us to believe such a transparent attempt to frame Lord Bolton?"
Wylis Manderly of White Harbor frowned deeply, clearly unconvinced by Kevan's accusation.
After all, on the night King Robb died, Roose Bolton had appeared every bit the loyal bannerman of House Stark.
At least on the surface, neither Wylis Manderly nor most of the Northern lords had noticed anything suspicious.
"Frame him?"
Kevan let out a cold laugh, annoyance flashing across his bloodstained face.
Perhaps he was still regretting the fact that he had trusted Bolton's information and marched against the Northern alliance, only to become a prisoner himself.
"Lord Manderly, do you truly believe I have any reason to frame Roose Bolton now?"
His gaze slowly swept across the assembled lords before finally stopping on Garon.
"Lord Glover, since you've asked so directly, I'll answer honestly."
"The only reason I marched here was because your North's most 'loyal' bannerman, Roose Bolton of the Dreadfort, personally sent me a letter."
The words struck the tent like a thunderbolt.
"What?!"
"Impossible!"
"That's a Lannister lie!"
The entire tent exploded into chaos.
Every lord stared at Kevan in disbelief, suspicion, and anger.
"I'm lying?"
Kevan sneered.
"So even now, after Bolton has already accepted reality, you're still refusing to see the truth?"
"If that's the case, then I'll explain everything more clearly."
"I assume you've all heard that Margaery Tyrell has already become King Joffrey's queen, and Princess Myrcella Baratheon has been betrothed to Prince Trystane Martell of Dorne."
"Stannis Baratheon murdered his own brother Renly. After Renly's death and Stannis's defeat at the Blackwater, most of the Stormlords once again bent the knee to the Iron Throne."
"Lord Petyr Baelish has also been sent to the Vale."
"The moment Lady Lysa Arryn declares for the Iron Throne, every one of you will be surrounded."
The more Kevan spoke, the more confident he became.
At the same time, the expressions of both the Northern and Riverlands lords grew increasingly grim.
Unlike the others, Garon paid little attention to Kevan's earlier remarks.
But the instant he heard Petyr Baelish mentioned alongside the Vale, his eyes narrowed.
A vague idea surfaced in his mind.
Unfortunately, before he could fully organize the thought, Kevan continued.
"The moment Robb Stark died, Roose Bolton understood that the Northern cause had already failed."
"So he secretly sent me a letter declaring his loyalty to the Iron Throne."
"He promised that if House Lannister helped make him Lord of the North, he would offer all your heads as proof of his loyalty."
Kevan slowly turned toward Garon.
"And you, Lord Glover."
"Bolton specifically wanted me to destroy every Stark loyalist remaining here."
"Then, using Edmure Tully's wedding at the Twins as bait, he intended to lure you there and slaughter you all."
"That way, no one would remain capable of challenging his rule over the North."
Watching Garon remain calm, Kevan couldn't help letting out another cold snort as he remembered his own defeat.
"Hmph."
"If you hadn't appeared when you did, every one of you would already have been wiped out by my army."
"Bolton's scheme almost succeeded."
"It only failed because of your unexpected arrival."
Yet despite Kevan openly admitting his own failure, no one mocked him.
The command tent fell into a suffocating silence.
Every lord present was shaken by the conspiracy Kevan had revealed.
"The lions of the Westerlands... the roses of Highgarden... the storm lords... Dorne... and perhaps even the falcon of the Vale..."
"Gods..."
"Can we truly stand against such enemies?"
Several Riverlands lords lowered their heads, their expressions becoming darker by the moment.
Some had already begun weighing whether surrender to the Iron Throne would be wiser.
Garon quietly observed every expression.
His heart sank.
"The Riverlands have spent generations surviving between greater powers."
"Their instinct has always been to preserve themselves."
"Kevan's words have already begun shaking their resolve."
"I have to stabilize them immediately."
He then turned his attention toward the Northern lords.
Although they were equally disturbed by the political situation, their anger was clearly focused elsewhere.
Roose Bolton.
They began recalling Bolton's unnaturally calm behavior after King Robb's death.
His seemingly reasonable military arrangements.
His insistence on dividing the army.
One suspicious detail after another connected together.
"Roose Bolton..."
"That oathbreaking flaying bastard!"
"I'll kill him myself!"
"We'll burn the Dreadfort to the ground!"
Greatjon Umber was the first to explode.
He slammed his enormous fist onto the table so violently that cups and maps jumped into the air.
Boom!
The entire tent erupted like wildfire.
"Kill him!"
"Hang that traitor from the godswood!"
"I always knew the Flayers couldn't be trusted!"
"March to the Twins!"
"Avenge our King!"
As the crowd erupted into furious shouting, Garon remained standing silently.
His face displayed exactly the amount of shock expected from someone hearing the truth for the first time.
But inwardly, his thoughts raced.
"This is the perfect opportunity."
"I can redirect everyone's fear toward hatred for the traitors."
"That will buy me precious time."
"But Roose Bolton alone isn't enough."
Another name surfaced in his mind.
Frey.
If he could drag House Frey into the conspiracy as well, then the Riverlands lords would have no choice but to stand together with the North.
Garon immediately looked toward Kevan.
"Ser Kevan."
"Are you saying House Frey is involved as well?"
His voice cut cleanly through the shouting.
Kevan smiled coldly.
"After Robb Stark broke his marriage pact, do you honestly think old Walder Frey would simply swallow such humiliation?"
"Bolton planned to use Edmure Tully's wedding to massacre every one of you."
"Naturally, House Frey had to cooperate."
Seeing the Riverlands beginning to fracture as well pleased Kevan greatly.
He no longer concealed anything.
"They're all in it together."
"Hmph."
"Roose Bolton even married Fat Walda Frey."
"They've been working together for quite some time."
"Damn the Freys!"
"I knew they couldn't be trusted!"
"Those scheming old vultures!"
"We'll kill every last one of them!"
Even the Riverlands lords joined in the furious cursing.
Meanwhile, Petyr Frey quietly shrank into the corner of the tent.
His face had turned completely pale.
He desperately hoped no one would notice that a Frey still stood among them.
Earlier, when Roose Bolton escorted Edmure toward the Twins, Black Walder had intentionally or unintentionally left without informing him.
As a result, Petyr Frey had remained behind with the King's Guard to watch over Robb Stark's body.
Now, hearing Kevan expose the conspiracy between Bolton and House Frey, panic nearly overwhelmed him.
"Seven Hells..."
"What do I do now?"
"If they think I'm involved..."
"Will they kill me too?"
"Should I find an opportunity to escape?"
As Petyr desperately searched for a solution, Garon judged that the moment had arrived.
His voice rose with righteous fury.
"So that's the truth..."
"So that's why..."
"So many of our brothers died not because they lacked courage..."
"But because traitors sold us from the very beginning!"
"Every death..."
"Every drop of blood spilled in this war..."
"Belongs on the heads of Roose Bolton and Walder Frey!"
"I swear before the old gods and the First Men..."
"I will personally kill both of them and avenge every fallen Northman!"
His speech instantly transformed the shame of near defeat into blazing hatred toward the traitors.
"Revenge!"
"Death to the oathbreakers!"
"Burn the Dreadfort!"
"Destroy the Twins!"
The lords shouted themselves hoarse.
Kevan watched everything with quiet satisfaction.
"Fight."
"Kill each other."
"When both sides are exhausted..."
"House Lannister will claim both the Riverlands and the North."
Just as he silently celebrated, Garon once again asserted control.
"Silence!"
The shouting gradually ceased.
Garon looked around calmly.
"Revenge is inevitable."
"But not today."
"Lord Edmure is still in their hands."
"If we rush blindly toward the Twins, we may only force the traitors to kill him."
His words quickly calmed the Riverlands lords.
They instinctively turned toward him.
"Lord Glover..."
"What do you propose?"
"We'll follow your judgment."
"King Robb entrusted the army to you."
"You are our commander now."
Whatever you decide, we'll obey."
Garon smiled faintly.
But instead of answering immediately, he looked toward Kevan.
"Untie Ser Kevan."
"See that he is treated according to his rank."
As Lord Tywin Lannister's brother, Kevan remained a highborn noble even in defeat.
Among the nobility of Westeros, honorable prisoners were generally treated according to their station unless they had broken every law of war.
Garon had no intention of violating that custom.
The guards immediately stepped forward.
They removed the ropes binding Kevan's wrists and prepared to escort him away.
Kevan flexed his sore hands before giving Garon a long, thoughtful look.
As he reached the entrance of the tent, he suddenly stopped.
Turning back, he spoke.
"Lord Glover."
"You understand the situation better than anyone."
"With only the North and the Riverlands..."
"You cannot defeat the Iron Throne."
He looked directly into Garon's eyes.
Recognizing Garon as the true center of authority among the assembled lords, he decided to attempt one final negotiation.
"Kneel before King Joffrey."
"I personally guarantee that House Glover will replace House Stark as Lords of Winterfell and Wardens of the North."
"Every previous offense will be forgiven."
"What do you say?"
Every Northern and Riverlands lord immediately changed expression.
All eyes turned toward Garon.
He stared silently at Kevan for several moments.
Then he laughed coldly.
"Ser Kevan."
"I have shown you respect because you are an honorable knight."
"But what kind of man do you take me for?"
Without waiting for an answer, Garon turned toward everyone in the tent.
His voice rang like thunder.
"For generations, House Glover has faithfully served House Stark."
"King Robb treated me as his own brother."
"Lord Eddard Stark entrusted me with Lady Sansa's hand."
"Such kindness cannot be repaid in a single lifetime."
"If I abandoned the Starks now..."
"What difference would there be between me and a beast?"
He fixed his sharp gaze upon Kevan.
"Joffrey murdered Lord Eddard."
"King Robb was slain through treachery and dark sorcery."
"Now the North stands upon the edge of ruin."
"If I do not stand now..."
"When should I?"
"You surely know the words of House Glover."
"'Deep Roots, Strong Branches.'"
"The Glovers would rather die than betray our oath."
"I will never become another Roose Bolton."
His impassioned declaration deeply moved every lord present.
The admiration in their eyes became unmistakable.
Greatjon Umber suddenly stepped forward.
"Well spoken!"
"In the name of the old gods!"
"House Umber pledges its swords to the King's Protector and to Winterfell forever!"
He planted his massive greatsword before Garon and knelt.
Lady Maege Mormont immediately followed.
"House Mormont of Bear Island swears the same."
One after another, the Northern lords stepped forward.
Rickard Karstark.
Lord Cerwyn.
Lord Tallhart.
Lord Hornwood.
Wylis Manderly of White Harbor.
Each drew his sword.
Each knelt.
"In the name of the old gods..."
"We swear eternal loyalty to the King's Protector..."
"And to Winterfell!"
Within moments, nearly every Northern lord had bent the knee.
Although the Riverlands lords remained standing, the trust in their eyes toward Garon had deepened considerably.
Kevan silently watched the scene.
His expression became complicated.
Admiration.
Respect.
Regret.
And growing concern.
At last, he sighed softly and allowed the guards to escort him away.
As he walked from the tent, one thought lingered in his mind.
"The North still possesses loyal men."
"Tyrion was right."
"Garon Glover..."
"Will become House Lannister's greatest enemy."
"I must somehow warn Tywin."
Watching the kneeling Northern lords, Garon lowered his eyes slightly.
His performance had completely won their loyalty.
"Now..."
"Once I destroy House Frey and Roose Bolton..."
"The North will truly belong to me."
"And with the Iron Islands standing beside me..."
"Even House Lannister can be challenged."
Suppressing every trace of triumph, Garon immediately stepped forward.
"My lords, please rise."
"I am not worthy of such honor."
Only after everyone stood did Garon slowly look toward the Riverlands lords.
"A powerful enemy stands before us."
"There is no need for lengthy speeches."
"Let us discuss our next move."
The command tent instantly fell silent.
Everyone waited for Garon's plan.
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