CHAPTER 168
South of Seagard, the kingsroad leading toward Riverrun stretched across the fertile, damp lands of the Riverlands.
The mixed host of Northmen, Ironborn, and Skagosi advanced across the plains like a giant serpent covered in mottled scales.
Yet beneath this seemingly united army, friction never truly ceased.
Ser Petyr Frey rode behind Garon, giving him a clear view of everything taking place throughout the column.
He personally witnessed Ironborn drawing steel against a Northern patrol while crossing a shallow stream after arguing over several chickens they had "paid the iron price" for from a nearby farm.
Had Rodrik Harlaw and Garon's captain of the guard not stepped in at the same time to stop them, blood would almost certainly have been spilled.
The endless small disputes over the past several days were like tiny thorns buried in Petyr's heart.
His opinion only grew firmer.
Lord Garon was undoubtedly a capable and honorable lord.
Unfortunately...
The Ironborn serving beside him were little better than wild sea wolves that refused to be tamed.
"Ser Petyr."
Garon's calm voice interrupted his thoughts.
"You know the lands around Riverrun better than any of us."
"If House Lannister intended to launch a surprise attack from the west, which route would you choose?"
The sudden military question immediately lifted Petyr's spirits.
He urged his horse forward until he rode beside Garon before carefully explaining every possible approach.
"Riverrun is protected by the Tumblestone to the west and the Red Fork to the south."
"The eastern side is further protected by a deep moat."
"Once the sluice gates are opened, the castle becomes surrounded by water on every side."
"If I were leading the attack, I'd avoid the western approaches entirely and instead look for crossings farther upstream."
Garon listened attentively.
From time to time he interrupted with several extremely precise questions.
Each question struck directly at the heart of the discussion.
Petyr gradually realized something.
Lord Garon's military knowledge was genuine.
His reputation had not been exaggerated.
The more they spoke, the more Petyr believed that Garon had truly captured Pyke.
During a brief pause in their discussion, Garon casually shifted the topic.
"I heard King Robb..."
"He broke his marriage pact with House Frey and instead married Lady Jeyne Westerling."
"Because of that, Lord Walder withdrew the Frey forces from Riverrun."
Petyr's expression immediately stiffened.
He had expected yet another round of mockery.
Recently, he had heard more than enough of it.
After remaining silent for a long while, he finally answered in a numb voice.
"I am not qualified to judge Lord Walder's decision."
As he spoke, he tugged lightly on the reins, intending to move ahead and resume leading the column.
Then Garon spoke again.
"I wasn't mocking you."
His voice softened slightly.
"If anything..."
"I think it's regrettable."
"To fracture the alliance between the North and House Frey over a marriage..."
"That was not the decision of a mature king."
"A king's heart should belong to his kingdom before it belongs to any woman."
Those words struck Petyr far harder than any insult ever had.
He had heard Northern nobles ridicule House Frey countless times, insisting the Freys had never been worthy of House Stark.
He had heard endless apologies on King Robb's behalf.
Those apologies were always followed by accusations against his own family.
Never before had anyone spoken so calmly, evaluating the matter purely from the standpoint of ruling a kingdom.
Lord Garon did not criticize House Frey for withdrawing its soldiers.
Instead...
He quietly pointed out King Robb's youthful impulsiveness.
For the first time in many days, Petyr felt someone understood the matter from his perspective.
The distance between the two men quietly diminished.
A corner of Petyr's discouraged heart softened.
He sighed quietly.
"My lord..."
"You're right."
"But things have already reached this point."
"What else can any of us do?"
His voice carried both the helplessness of a minor knight and genuine concern for House Frey's future.
Garon smiled faintly.
"A game of cyvasse isn't won by dragons alone."
"Even the smallest pieces have their purpose."
He looked meaningfully toward Petyr.
"At the very least..."
"You've shown me that House Frey still has knights who value duty and honor."
Petyr's heart trembled.
Emotion flashed across his face.
But as though remembering his own position, he quietly buried those feelings once more.
"My lord."
"Riverrun is less than twenty li ahead."
He deliberately changed the subject after looking around.
Garon nodded.
Seeing that dusk was approaching, he immediately raised his voice.
"Increase the pace."
"We must reach Riverrun before nightfall."
The army immediately quickened its march.
As expected, the Ironborn quickly began grumbling again.
By now, however, both Garon and Petyr had long grown accustomed to such complaints.
Just as the army drew closer to Riverrun, a distant rumble echoed across the plains.
Cavalry.
Garon narrowed his eyes.
"Form ranks."
"Stay alert."
The soldiers reacted immediately.
Moments later, a great cloud of dust appeared upon the horizon.
An elite cavalry force galloped rapidly toward them.
At its head flew the gray direwolf banner of House Stark.
The tension on Garon's face immediately disappeared.
"The royal banner of the North."
"It seems His Grace has personally come to welcome us."
As the riders approached, Petyr's pupils suddenly contracted.
The young man leading them was none other than Robb Stark himself.
The King in the North had personally ridden nearly ten miles from Riverrun together with his principal bannermen just to welcome Garon's arrival.
Petyr was stunned.
He glanced sideways at the calm Garon.
Only now did he fully understand how highly this man was regarded in the North.
After another moment's thought, Petyr quietly muttered to himself,
"If someone helped me conquer Pyke..."
"I'd ride ten miles to welcome him too."
The two groups quickly met upon the road.
Robb Stark reined in his horse and came to a stop before the army.
His face overflowed with excitement as he looked over the battle-hardened soldiers who had crossed the sea and returned victorious.
Garon urged his horse forward with Rodrik Harlaw following behind.
The moment their eyes met, Garon immediately dismounted and bowed respectfully.
"Your Grace."
"House Glover awaits your command."
Robb did not hesitate.
He leaped down from his horse, strode forward, personally helped Garon to his feet, and embraced him tightly.
"Garon."
"My good brother."
"I knew you would never disappoint us."
His voice was filled with unconcealed excitement.
Behind him, Greatjon Umber, Rickard Karstark, Maege Mormont, Galbart Glover, and the other Northern lords all revealed smiles they had not shown in many days.
Garon's arrival was exactly the encouragement the Northern alliance desperately needed.
Especially after learning that he had successfully captured Pyke and secured Queen Asha Greyjoy's alliance.
After Robb released him, Garon turned toward Rodrik Harlaw.
"Your Grace."
"This is Lord Rodrik Harlaw of Ten Towers."
"He accompanies me under the alliance sworn by Queen Asha Greyjoy."
Rodrik stepped forward with perfect composure.
"In the name of House Harlaw and Queen Asha Greyjoy, I greet King Robb Stark."
"I have been sent to honor the alliance between our peoples."
Robb nodded steadily.
"The North and the Riverlands welcome your arrival."
He then looked toward the marching army behind Garon.
"Riverrun is only a few miles ahead."
"Allow your soldiers to continue at their own pace."
"We'll return first."
"I'll have camps prepared and supplies arranged before they arrive."
Garon was slightly surprised before nodding.
"As you command, Your Grace."
"Please give me a moment."
Receiving Robb's permission, Garon immediately mounted his horse again, returned to the army, and ordered Ron to take temporary command and continue leading the column toward Riverrun.
He himself, together with Rodrik Harlaw and Ser Petyr Frey, rode ahead alongside Robb and the Northern lords.
The thunder of hooves echoed across the countryside.
Before long, the group reached Riverrun's western gate.
With the rattling of massive chains, the great drawbridge slowly descended across the moat.
Robb rode across first.
Garon followed close behind.
As he entered the bridge, Brynden Tully and the soldiers upon the walls all fixed their eyes upon him.
Garon looked up in slight confusion.
"Strange..."
"Why is everyone staring at me like that?"
What Garon did not realize was that, through the ravens carrying reports from the North and the Iron Islands, his name had already spread throughout Riverrun.
Everyone knew he was King Robb Stark's most trusted confidant.
His most dependable bannerman.
And the future husband of Lady Sansa Stark.
Now he had returned bearing yet another astonishing victory.
His arrival alone greatly strengthened the confidence of every defender within Riverrun.
Under countless hopeful gazes, Garon finally rode through the gates of Riverrun.
{🥳 Loving the story so far? Craving more chapters? 🥰
If you're enjoying the journey, don't forget to vote with your Power Stones! Every Power Stone helps the novel reach more readers and motivates me to keep the updates coming. 💙
Support me on Patreon and unlock 80+ advance chapters right now, plus 3 fresh chapters every two days to keep you hooked! 🎉
✨ Subscribe or grab lifetime access with a one-time purchase... your choice, no pressure!
👉 /mythborne }