The King of Winters

Chapter 71

Garlan could hear the rumble of the foemen's drums now. He remembered the Battle at Tumbler's Falls, the first battle of this war Lord Stark had started. Garlan had won a great victory that day, smashing the Lords Vance and Piper and the host they had brought with them. He remembered how the crows had feasted on the victors and the vanquished alike after the war. He had also won other victories from the riverlords who had come to defend their lands. Of all the battles he had fought this would be the hardest. His scouts had informed him that Lord Hoster had corrected the mistakes of his son by calling back the riverlords Ser Edmure had sent away to defend their lands and people, to mass under the walls of Riverrun. He was only a days march away from meeting them beneath the walls of Riverrun but Lord Hoster had a better mind for war than his son it seems as he took advantage of the night march to fight them unawares.

The rivermen would be exhausted after their long sleepless march. Garlan wondered if Lord Hoster had thought to take them unawares while they slept? Small chance of that. He was no fool to set up camp without watchers and scouts.

The van was massing on the left between the left wing and the center bulk to fend off the enemy cavalry from exploiting the vulnerable position between the left wing and the block of pikemen. He saw the golden rose of House Tyrell flowing from a huge spear and his own his standard of twin roses next to it. Garlan lowered his visor and moved to the front followed by his knights and riders.

Garlan leaned over his horse. "Make it clear to the archers to loose as many shafts as they can before our army engages with theirs," he told the Beesbury knight beside him.

"Yes, Ser," the man replied.

He pointed to the high slopes to the east where the archers were massing. "We have the vantage. Bleed their front lines when they charge, once they come to blows with our own men target the footmen next and then the reserves if they can."

The knight left nodding; his dull grey armor passing through the mists and taking his orders back to the archers. Garlan used his blade to point men into their position. His sword a gleaming silver steel, castle-forged and sharpened to the edge which had served him well. "Ser Tanton," he shouted from his position to Fossoway on the left by the riverbank. "Hold the left lines at all costs."

To turn their flank, the Tullys would need horses that could run on water. The red fork seemed deep and swift to Garlan but he could not be sure. The Riverlords knew their river better than his own reachmen knew them.

Tanton Fossoway led his massed men toward the riverbank. He was pointing the river to his men with his sword. A blanket of pale mist still clung to the surface of the water, the murky green current swirling past underneath. The shallows were muddy and choked with reeds.

Garlan wheeled his own horse to meet his men once more before the battle. "Men of the reach," he called them. "Three moons ago we got a call from our king to come forth and defend his lands against a terrible rebel and outlaw in the North. When the call came it is us who came first in defence of our realm. Words fail me to express the admiration I have for you all and I am proud to be called as the Commander of such brave men. Every man here with me, from lords and knights to the grooms, all offered their own service in these trying times. I thank you for that and I have no other option but to ask you for more. Not everyone of us will go on to be marked in the pages of history or to be sung and praised in the songs, but know that a valiant deed unsung is no less valiant. Now I ask you to do some valiant deeds, not so you could go down in the pages of history or so you could be sung and praised as heros. I ask you to show the valor for your family, for your loved ones, so that they may sleep safe in bed knowing that you are there to protect them and defend their lands. Let the people of the Reach know that their men are there to save them no matter who the foes are. The descendants of Garth Greenhand were the first to come in this land and let it be known that we are the last ones to leave it."