[The Neck - Robb Stark War Camp]
Catelyn and Ser Rodrik had made the long journey from the Eyrie and not sat atop a hill on horseback, overlooking her eldest son's war camp.
"Summer snows, My Lady."
"Robb's brought the North with him."
They shared a look before urging the horses forward.
[Robb Stark's Tent]
In Robb's tent, he was discussing strategies with several of his advisors, including Theon, Greatjon Umber, Carmine Grayburn, Maege Mormont, and Garth Dragen, among others.
"The Riverlords are falling back with Jaime Lannister at their heels. And Lord Tywin is bringing around a second Lannister army from the South. Our scouts confirm it's even larger than the Kingslayer's." Robb informed his men.
"Both Lord Tywin and the Kingslayer? I suppose we'll have our work cut out for us, won't we?" Carmine asked.
"One army or two, the Kings in the North threw back hosts ten times this large." Greatjon told them.
Their attention was diverted as Catelyn and Rodrik arrived at the tent. Greatjon, Carmine, Garth, and the other advisors all stand and bow as she entered.
Robb turned to face her. "Mother!"
There was a tense pause as they both regarded each other.
"You look well." Catelyn told her son. Robb let slip a small smile.
"Lady Catelyn, you're a welcome sight in these troubled times." Greatjon complimented.
"We had not thought to meet you here, My Lady." Carmine added.
"I had not thought to be here. I would speak with my sons alone. I know you will forgive me, My Lords."
"You heard her! Move your asses! Come on, out." Greatjon said.
Everyone else in the tent began filing out, but Theon remained.
"You too, Greyjoy. Are you bloody deaf?" Greatjon told him before shoving out of the tent.
"Have no fear, My Lady. We'll shove our swords up Tywin Lannister's bunghole, and then it's on to the Red Keep to free Ned." Greatjon told her.
Despite this, Catelyn still looked worried.
Greatjon exited the tent, Rodrik grinning at him as he left.
"You old devil, Rodrik!"
"Jon."
"You're not wasting away, are you?"
Rodrik and Greatjon left together. As soon as they were gone, Catelyn embraced Robb.
"I remember the days you came into this world red-faced and squalling. And now I find you leading a host to war."
"There was no one else."
"No one? Who were those men I saw here?"
"None of them are Starks."
"All of them are seasoned in battle."
"If you think you can send me back to Winterfell..." Robb began.
"Oh, would that I could...."
"There was a letter." Robb went back over to the table and pulled out a letter from a leaf of documents. "From Sansa." He went over, handing it to his mother. "They're the Queen's words. She forced Sansa to write this."
Catelyn opened the letter and began reading it, sitting down as she does.
"There's no mention of Arya." Catelyn said, forlorn.
"No. Perhaps she got out."
Catelyn resumed reading. When she finished, she looked up, a worried look on her face. She then looked back up at Robb.
"How many men do you have?"
"18,000. If I go to King's Landing and bend my knee to Joffrey...
"You would nevr be allowed to leave. No. Our best hope - our only hope - is that you can defeat them in the field."
"And if I lose?"
"Do you know what happened to the Targaryen children, when the Mad King fell?"
Robb looked away, clearly uneasy. "They were butchered in their sleep."
"On the orders of Tywin Lannister. And the years have not made him kinder."
Robb shifted his gaze back to Catelyn.
"If you lose, your father dies, your sisters die, we die."
There was a pause as Robb maintained a poker face.
"Well, that makes it simple then."
"I suppose it does."
Later that night, he was back in his tent, with his advisors, going over battle strategies.
"The scouts report Lord Tywin moves north. We need to get him on broken ground, put his knights at a disadvantage." Rodrik announced.
"No, we need to get around him and break Jaime Lannister's siege of Riverrun. Do that and the Riverlords will join us." Greatjon said.
"To do either we need to cross the river. And the only crossing is at the Twins." Robb told them.
"Lord Frey controls that bridge." Theon said, turning to Catelyn. "Your father's bannerman."
Carmine groaned causing glance at him.
"Something wrong, Carmine?"
"I'm not too fond of Walder Frey..."
" "The Late Lord Frey" my father calls him. At the Trident, he didn't appear until the battle was done. Some men takes their oaths more seriously than others." Catelyn told them.
Outside, a few Stark soldiers had captured a Lannister scout, who was struggling to get free, but was unsuccessful. They began taking him to Robb's tent.
"Robb's right. We need that bridge." Theon agreed.
"So what's it gonna be? Do we move against Jaime or Lord Tywin?" Greatjon asked.
Their attention was again shifted as soldiers entered the tent with the Lannister scout enter the tent.
Greatjon, along with the others, turned to face them.
"Your pardon, my lords. We've captured a Lannister scout." One of the Stark guards said.
Theon promptly covered up the map.
"Don't worry, lad. He won't be leaving this tent with his head." Greatjon said when he saw the Greyjoy's actions.
The scout looked nervously at Greatjon.
"Where did you find him?" Robb asked.
"In the brush above the encampment. He looked to be counting."
Robb wandered over to the scout. "How high did you get?"
The scout looked around nervously. "20,000. Maybe more."
They instantly knew this was a lie. They only had 18,000.
Greatjon stared at the scout with an angered look.
"You don't have to do this yourself. Your father would understand."
"No. My father understands mercy, when there is room for it. And he understands honor and courage."
Rodrik nodded in understanding.
"Let him go." Robb commnded the guards.
Both Theon and Greatjon look surprised.
"Robb-" Catelyn started to stand, but Robb looks over his shoulder, glaring at her with a determined look on his face. Catelyn understood and looked down in regret.
After a long while, Robb turned back to the scout and leaned in to whisper to him.
"Tell Lord Tywin winter is coming for him. Twenty-thousand Northerners marching south to find out if he really does shit gold."
"Yes, My Lord. Thank you, My Lord."
Robb nodded to the guards, who lead the scout out of the tent.
Catelyn, Theon, and Rodrik all looked on, all maintaining poker faces, though Greatjon was clearly upset. He turned to face Robb, looking irate.
"Are you touched, boy?! Letting him go?" Greatjon asked.
"You call me boy again."
Greatjon, clearly still fuming, got further in Robb's face. He obviously wanted to keep scolding him.
"Go on."
The air was thick as Greatjon glanced over at the others. He finally conceded and stormed off, growling as he did.
Robb sat with his head in his hands when a messenger entered the tent.
"A message for you, My Lord." He handed Robb a scroll.
Robb looked at the seal; a stag and dragon facing off.
"Hmm. I don't recognize this sigil."
Nonetheless, he unraveld it, reading its contents.
"What is it?"
"It's from the Princess." He then recited the letter.
Dear Robb,
I know our families are now at war, and I would not blame you for burning this letter immediately.
However, in the chance you don't, I wish to apologize for what is happening to your father. He is undoubtably kind and honourable; two traits of those who do not do well here in the Capital. Traits I can see, in the short time we knew each other, you've inherited.
But, you are going against my grandfather. I'm sure you've heard of what he had done to Rhaenys and Aegon.
He is a monster. He will not hesitate to harm anyone he deems a threat to his legacy.
So please listen when I tell you this.
As much as you may not want to, you must kill the boy today, so the man does not die tomorrow.314
Also, if your mother is with you, please let her know the one she believes she can trust is not the same boy she once knew.
He killed the boy and became the man he is today.
The bird spins tales to those from which he may benefit.
In times of war, you learn who your real friends are. You learn to separate friend from foe, including those who masquerade as friends.
What I mean to say is taking caution does not mean standing fast. You must learn who allies truly are before sending them into battle.
The purpose of war is to fill graveyards. The trick, putting more of your enemies men in the ground than your own.
I have no love for my grandfather, as I'm sure he has no true love for me.
All that matters to him is his ambition to raise House Lannister as high as it can become.
You remember the Reynes of Castamere. My grandfather does not hesitate to rip entire houses out; root and stem.
I besiege you to remain cautious, and I promise to do whatever I can for Sansa.
I pray for this war to end with as few casualties as possible, and I hope you and your family are not among them.
Please burn this after you read it. If it was to fall into the wrong hands, I don't want to imagine what my brother would do.
Sincerly,
Aelinor
Robb looked up at the remaining people in the tent. "Well, what do you make of this?"
Catelyn moved closer. "She may be different from the rest of them, but she's still a Lannister."
"Oh yeah? Then why is she trying to warn us?"
"Everyone knows how ruthless Tywin Lannister is. It's not much of a warning."
"Who is this friend she is speaking of?"
"The only person that makes sense is Petyr." Seeing the confused stare, she continued. "He's known as Littlefinger. He's the Masrer of Coin. But it doesn't make sense why she would be warning me about him. He promised to help your father."
"Well clearly he didn't do a very good job."
"You don't understand Robb. Things are far different in the South. The aren't many men of honour. But I've known Petyr since I was a young girl. I'm sure he did everything he could for your father."
Robb didn't share her sentiment and clearly neither did anyone else.