THE NORTHERN CRUSADE

THE NEXT MOVE

As he walked down the corridors of Riverrun to the room designated as the War Council Chamber, behind him Edmure and Brynden followed him. Already he could hear the gathering of all his lords.

"They are My Lords now!!" he thought humourlessly. By the shouts coming from the room, it seems they were already arguing about the next move they should make. It was a wonder, that the entirety of Riverrun didn't know the inner workings of his court. 

The two guards, one Northern and the other Riverman, stationed outside bowed their heads lightly before pushing open the two large doors open allowing Robb and his two companions to enter the room.

Inside, the lords gathered went silent as they watched their King enter the room. His face calm and his piercing blue eyes looking over the lords before he moved to the head of the table where Wulfric was stood waiting.

"About time you got here, thought these lot were about to tear each other apart!!" He muttered quietly, though it was clearly heard amongst the silent lords, each of them sending glares to the Heir of the Wolf's Den.

"What seems to be the problem, My Lords? You all seemed to have a great many deal of opinions on what we should do next, I'd like to hear them!!"

Much like he should have expected, they all seemed to take this as a sign of continue their earlier arguments, the lords shouting out their ideas only to be interrupted by another. This all eventually descended into chaos and Robb sighed tiredly.

"Alright lads, shut the fuck up!" Greatjon eventually shouted, slamming his fist down on the table making it shake, the figures displayed on the map falling onto the table in a mess. It was entirely unnecessary, the Lord of the Last Hearth having only ever really need to raise his voice to be heard clearly.

"Thank you, Lord Umber." Greatjon nodded his head, a grin coming to his face as he saw the man he had named King seemingly accepting the role. "Now, I believe we need to bring some order to this before we tear each other apart! Yes?" Many of the lords grumbled in agreement, chastised and embarrassed. "Now, if someone would please inform me of the situation…Lord Benjen".

His uncle Benjen, who had just arrived yesterday from the Battle Of Green Fork, with the rest of the Northern Army, answered.

"Of course, your grace." His Uncle reached forwards, taking the lion figurines from their positions on the map, all knocked on their sides and having rolled out of position. "After the Battle Of The Green Fork, and your own victories here, Tywin Lannister took his men and has since occupied Harrenhall."

Benjen followed his words by placing one lion figurine on Harrenhall's position.

"And how did the battle go?" Robb asked curiously, wanting to know the exact measurement of losses that both sides had suffered.

"I did as you asked, marching south slowly. It took us five days to eventually meet the Lannister host, but that was only due to Tywin Lannister marching north to meet us. He sent his vanguard and heavy cavalry led by the Mountain and Ser Adam to strike our right flank, but as soon as I noticed his Infantry moving I called a retreat. Overall, we lost no more than two thousand men with another 500 wounded and the Lannisters lost more than twice our numbers!!" Benjen said confidently, proud that his nephew's strategy worked.

Robb nodded his head in satisfaction, combined with his own casualties from the Battle of the Whispering Woods and Battle of the Camps, it brought the total number of casualties to just short of four thousand.

He then turned to Ser Brynden "Uncle what does your scouts report??"

"After your victories, Ser Forley Pester marched his two thousand remaining soldiers west, back into the Westerlands. He is currently camped at Oxcross where he has been joined by Stafford Lannister and recruits from Lannisport. It is obvious that their intention is to raise another host. Exact reports on their numbers are unknown however." His Great Uncle reported gruffly.