Trials and Tribulations of the Oathkeeper

Chapter 53: Young Stag vs. Young Wolf

—The North—

Near Moat Cailin...

Nearly two weeks had passed, yet the battlefield was still littered with dead bodies. Daveth walked along the area surrounding Moat Cailin, accompanied by his Kingsguard. Looking left and right, his men were carrying the final bodies of the fallen onto the crate to be shipped off. Although recovered and well enough to walk around, he had to wait another day before he could actually take part in battle. "How many were lost?" he asked.

"Fifteen ironborn dead, for every one of ours. In short, we've lost close to 10,000 men," Lucius reported. "The battle to take back Moat Cailin was rather difficult for our forces south of the main entrance."

"And what of Victarion Greyjoy?"

"Our men have scoured the area from here to the Fever River, but found no sign of his body. We can only assume that he managed to get away."

Lord Rickard Karstark will not be pleased to hear about that. "That'll no doubt cause trouble for the Royal Fleet. How soon can we move to Seagard?"

Jaime pressed his fist to his chin. "Assuming that we can actually ensure the ironborn won't attack the same place while our backs are turned, we should be able to muster 70,000 to rendezvous with the Lannister and Redwyne Fleets. Still, I'd advise we leave a token force behind to retain Moat Cailin."

"The Northmen know every inch of the terrain better than we do. Inform Lord Gregor of House Forrester that he is to hold onto Moat Cailin with 800 men. Be sure to tell Lord Medger of House Cerwyn that he will provide an additional 400. We don't want to be caught off-guard again."

"I'll see to it that the message is delivered," Lucius nodded before taking his leave. "Should the ironborn try to attack Moat Cailin again, we won't make it easy on them."

Jaime noticed how Daveth was paying more attention to his military commanders' counsel lately, how his nephew's becoming more analytical. The field around them became steadier as the final bodies were carried off. It wouldn't be long before Robb Stark arrived; Daveth motioned for his Kingsguard to give him a moment. Jaime felt that there would be a lot for these two young men to talk about considering what they had learned moments ago. Once the Kingsguard left for a moment, Daveth and Robb stood toe-to-toe with one another.

"Should've known you'd be up and about, my friend. You're a hard one to kill."

"Many have tried, none succeeded."

Robb turned his head towards Daveth, noticing a change in his speech pattern and how it differentiated from his normally stoic, cool demeanor. The Young Wolf could tell from the tiniest hint that something was on his brother-in-law's mind. "I get the feeling there's something you want to tell me, Daveth."

Daveth shook his head. "I know what you did."

Both young men locked eyes, each sizing the other up. Yet Robb had a distinctive feeling that he somehow knew what Daveth was referring to.

"I know about Theon Greyjoy."

"This is not the time for it, Daveth—" Robb began before getting cut off.

"No, we are going to talk about it," Daveth interrupted. "I understand that you let Theon go, how you... permitted him to go back to the Iron Islands, to his father – the very same man who's taken up arms against us again. Do you have any idea of what you've done? What the repercussions were?"

"Theon isn't like Balon Greyjoy."

"Then you wouldn't mind explaining your actions."

The commotion was starting to garner attention, both Northmen and royalist alike. This was something they had never seen before: King Daveth I Baratheon and Lord Robb Stark, childhood friends and brothers-in-law, traded some rather tense verbal exchanges back and forth repeatedly. Robb had to unclench his knuckles, knowing that Daveth wasn't going to relent.