New students start from 'Game of Thrones'

Chapter 41 Taking the Twins

At dawn the next day, outside Winterfell:

Eddard Stark and Catelyn stood atop the castle walls, watching as Robb led over 18,000 Northern soldiers south. The Stark direwolf banner fluttered at the vanguard, cutting through the cold air. The temperature had plummeted overnight; snowflakes swirled from the sky, clinging to the soldiers' furs and armor.

As the army faded into the distance, the snow seemed to follow—swirling around the wolfswords, carried by the bitter wind. It was a sight that stirred memories: centuries ago, the Winter Wolves of House Stark had marched south in similar snow, their banners flying, their swords sharp. There was a grim, deadly gravity to the moment.

The Northern army traveled along the Kingsroad, pausing briefly at Moat Cailin before turning toward the Neck. They crossed the swampy terrain and made camp at Greywater Watch, seat of House Reed.

Inside Robb's war tent, lords and bannermen gathered around a map of the Riverlands.

"The Riverlands lords are broken. They've been routed by Jaime Lannister, and Tywin holds the south with a larger army—our scouts confirm his forces outnumber the Kingslayer's," Robb said, gesturing to the map.

"Numbers don't matter. The North's wolves have defeated ten-to-one odds before," Greatjon Umber scoffed. He had earned his confidence: a decade earlier, he had fought alongside Eddard to overthrow the Targaryens. At the Battle of the Trident's Ruby Ford, the Northern and Baratheon armies had clashed with far larger Targaryen forces—and won. Greatjon had charged first, fighting beside Eddard; their victory had hinged not just on Robert killing Rhaegar, but on the North's unyielding ferocity.

"What do the rest of you think?" Robb asked, scanning the tent.

"We should march south along the Kingsroad, seize Lord Harroway's Town, and dig in there. Then send envoys to the Vale—House Arryn has blood feuds with the Lannisters. If we can borrow the Vale's cavalry, we can meet Tywin in open battle at Harrenhal," Roose Bolton suggested, pointing to a spot on the map near the Trident.

"Meanwhile, send word to Dragonstone. Ask Lord Stannis to attack King's Landing with his navy—land at Blackwater Bay. We'll march south from the Kingsroad; together, we'll trap King's Landing between us. It will fall quickly," Roose added.

The other lords nodded. To them, this was the most direct path to victory: defeat Tywin, take King's Landing, and topple the false king.

"I disagree," Owen said, cutting through the murmurs of agreement.

All eyes turned to him. Save for Theon—Eddard's ward, Robb's foster brother—every lord in the tent held a title: earls, barons, viscounts. Owen was a knight, yes, but a newly made one, with no lands to his name. Normally, he would not have spoken up. But Owen had earned their respect: he was Eddard's sworn man, a survivor of King's Landing, and a warrior whose skill was legendary. Even Greatjon, for all his temper, did not dare dismiss him.

"Ser Owen—what do you propose?" Robb asked, leaning forward.

"From what we know, Riverrun is under siege by Jaime, but Ser Brynden still holds out. The Riverlands lords harry Jaime's rear, but they can't break the siege. To the south, Tywin waits at Harrenhal. He's destroyed every ferry and ford along the Trident—we have only the Kingsroad to advance. That's a trap," Owen said, tapping the map.

"If we follow Lord Bolton's plan—take Lord Harroway's Town, then attack Tywin—Jaime could split his army and hit us from behind. We'd be surrounded."

"We have the Vale as an ally!" Greatjon protested. "With their cavalry, we could smash Tywin's lines easily."

"Perhaps you're being too optimistic," Owen replied. "In King's Landing, I learned this: the Vale's heir, Robert Arryn, is a sickly child—eight years old, still nursing. Lysa Tully rules in his name, and she is nothing like Lady Catelyn. She's weak, fearful—she'll never risk the Vale in this war. And the Vale's lords? They're too busy fighting over who will be Robert's regent to send us aid."

"Then we ask Stannis! His navy could land at Blackwater Bay, attack King's Landing, and draw Tywin south!" Wyman Manderly said, pointing to the Narrow Sea. For a lord who had made White Harbor wealthy through trade, he had a sharp eye for strategy.

"Lord Manderly is right—if Stannis were the only Baratheon claimant," Owen said. "But there's Renly. In King's Landing, Renly tried to convince Lord Eddard to back his claim to the throne. He has ambition. And he has Ser Loras Tyrell—the 'Knight of Flowers.' Loras is the heir to Highgarden; their bond is... close. House Tyrell will likely support Renly. With Highgarden's navy, Stannis won't dare send his fleet to King's Landing—he'll need to defend Dragonstone from Renly. He can't help us."

Owen traced a new path on the map: "The only ally we can count on is House Tully. We must march south to the Twins, then to Seagard, Stone Hedge, and the Mummer's Ford—then relieve Riverrun.

"Riverrun sits on a delta—two rivers, a moat. It's nearly impenetrable. Jaime had to split his army to besiege it: one force north of the castle, one along the Tumblestone, one along the Red Fork. His men are scattered. We can hit them one by one."

Robb's eyes lit up. Owen's plan matched his own instincts—but Owen had filled in the details he'd missed. With this strategy, they could save Riverrun and preserve their strength.

"I agree with Ser Owen," Robb said firmly. "We march to Riverrun first. Relieve the siege, then join forces with Ser Brynden to face Tywin."

"I support Ser Owen as well," Rickard Karstark said. As a distant kinsman of House Stark, his voice carried weight in the North.

"So do I. This plan spares us a direct clash with Tywin and weakens Jaime's army," Roose Bolton added. For a man known for his cruelty and cunning, he recognized a sound strategy when he saw one.

"Fine—if the rest of you agree, I'll go along," Greatjon grumbled, crossing his arms.

"Then it's settled. Rest today, then march for the Twins at dawn," Robb said. Though Owen was a fellow bannerman, Robb still called him "Ser Owen" or "teacher"—a mark of deep respect.

After a day's rest at Greywater Watch, the Northern army marched onward. Two days later, they reached the Twins—the twin castles that spanned the Green Fork of the Trident. Robb led his lords to a hilltop, where they stared at the fortress: two stone castles, connected by a narrow bridge over the river. It was a death trap for attackers.

"What's our move?" Robb asked. "Fight... or negotiate?"

"The Twins are unassailable," Roose Bolton said, frowning.

"If we take the western castle, the eastern one will block the bridge. We'll be trapped," Wyman Manderly added, shaking his head.

"What if we attack both castles at once?" Owen suggested.

"A bold idea—but we don't have the men to spread out. The terrain won't let us. We'd split our forces, and the losses would be catastrophic," Robb said, his brow furrowed.

"Then negotiate," he sighed.

"I wouldn't trust Walder Frey," Owen warned. "He's a man who values favors over honor. He'll demand a high price—and he won't keep his word if it suits him."

"Then how do we cross?" Robb asked.

"Before we left King's Landing, my men recovered something. A weapon. If we use it right, we can take the Twins without a fight," Owen said softly.

Every eye in the group turned to him, sharp with curiosity. What weapon could possibly breach the Twins' defenses?