After leaving the Crag, Roose Bolton glanced back at the ancient castle behind him. Turning to his adjutant, he asked, "Who's the noblewoman staying by Robb's side?"
"I heard she's Lady Sybell of the Crag's daughter," the adjutant replied quietly. "They say she's been taking care of Robb since he fell ill... and there seems to be something going on between them. The Freys are apparently furious about it."
Roose was silent for a long while. Then, looking back once more at the castle, he said, "Our Young Wolf—undefeated, unstoppable—he's quite like Aegon the Conqueror in his day. So young, so proud... and just as arrogant."
The adjutant remained silent.
"How is our guest?" Roose asked suddenly.
"With all due courtesy," the adjutant said, his tone serious. "But his mood is far from good."
"That's only to be expected," Roose replied calmly. "Anyone would be upset after losing a hand—especially the right hand, the one he wielded a sword with."
"Do we plan to use him?" the adjutant asked.
"Not yet. There are still things we need to do first." Roose turned his gaze toward Riverrun, eyes sharp. "The old lion is still too proud—so proud that even when he begs for help, he does it with his nose in the air. And maybe he has reason to be proud, but I don't care for it. His offer is generous, no doubt... but if we don't demonstrate our worth, someone like him would take it back before we ever had a chance to enjoy the spoils."
He paused thoughtfully, then asked, "Which forces are currently stationed at Harrenhal?"
The adjutant considered. "After Kevan Lannister took a detachment to garrison Duskendale, there are four main forces left in Harrenhal: the Casterly Rock garrison under Acting Castellan Daven Lannister; the Clegane men under the Mountain, Gregor Clegane; Amory Lorch's private troops; and a mix of sellswords hired from across the Narrow Sea—mostly from the Brave Companions. Altogether, around forty thousand men. Though the Mountain often goes raiding in the Riverlands and rarely stays at Harrenhal."
"Too many thugs," Roose said with a cold smile. "If Kevan were still around, he might've kept them in check. But now? The current castellan is just some jumped-up boy. He won't be able to rein in men like that."
Then, as if something had just occurred to him, he asked, "The Brave Companions—that name sounds familiar. Haven't we...?"
The adjutant nodded. "Yes. You've hired them before. Their captain, Vargo Hoat, is greedy to the core. No morals. No shame."
"Excellent," Roose said with a thin smile. "People without scruples are very useful."
...
After several days, Roose returned to Riverrun—only to find that, during his absence, Edmure Tully had launched a surprise assault on the Westerlands' encampment across the river. To Roose's astonishment, it had been a complete success. Edmure had burned the Westerlands' entire supply stock for bridge-building, killed or wounded over a thousand enemy soldiers, and forced Lord Tywin to fall back and fortify his position at the Inn of the Kneeling Man.
Until that moment, Edmure Tully had been a byword for stupidity in Roose's eyes—and in the eyes of most Northerners. Even as the Lord of Riverrun, he was barely respected. Men like Little Jon, not known for their wit, often joked about Edmure's foolishness.
So when Roose first heard the news, he thought it must've been a mistake—that someone had confused Edmure with Brynden "Blackfish" Tully. After all, the only reason Roose had felt secure enough to leave the front and check on Robb's condition at the Crag was because Brynden was holding Riverrun.
But after multiple confirmations, Roose had to accept the truth: it had indeed been Edmure who led the attack on Lord Tywin—without Brynden's knowledge.
The way it happened was simple. During a routine patrol along the banks of the Red Fork, Edmure spotted a weakness in Tywin's camp across the river. He recognized the opportunity, but knowing full well how little trust he commanded, he realized that if he approached Brynden with the idea, it would likely be dismissed—and the chance lost.
So, instead, he acted on his own. That night, he quietly took the thousand-odd men under his direct command and crossed the river under cover of darkness, launching a surprise raid that dealt a crushing blow to Tywin's forces.
Despite the results, Edmure's bold move did not win him any praise from Brynden. Quite the opposite—Blackfish scolded him harshly. When Roose finally saw Edmure, the man still wore a sullen expression.
"I actually believe Lord Edmure's tactics were spot on. Thanks to this victory, Tywin won't be able to cross the Red Fork again any time soon, and that's a significant advantage for us," Roose Bolton said deliberately, praising Edmure Tully in front of Brynden Blackfish. "We have to admit, Lord Edmure's name will surely spread across the Seven Kingdoms after this. Not many can claim to have dealt such a blow to the old lion. Even our King Robb couldn't manage it—when facing Tywin, he had no choice but to avoid him altogether."
Edmure's previously gloomy expression lightened instantly at the praise.
When he returned triumphant, he had expected to be welcomed with celebration and praise. Instead, he was publicly scolded by his uncle Brynden in front of everyone, including his own men, leaving him humiliated and bitter.
Now, Roose Bolton's commendation felt like a warm breeze. It was as if someone finally understood him. His resentment toward Roose—fueled by many unsettling rumors—began to fade, and even the grim cast of Bolton's face now seemed less off-putting.
"Lord Bolton, please don't encourage him," Brynden said coldly, clearly displeased. "It was nothing but luck. That doesn't prove he has any true talent in warfare." He turned to Edmure with a stern gaze. "He was fortunate this time. But if things had gone wrong, Riverrun would be lost. Edmure, you're the Lord of Riverrun now, not just a soldier charging into battle. Your first responsibility is your own safety—and the safety of Riverrun..."
"Enough!" Edmure snapped, cutting him off. "I know exactly who I am. But Uncle—do you know who I am?" He glared at Brynden, voice sharp. "Because the way you speak to me doesn't sound like you're talking to the Lord of Riverrun, or the head of House Tully. To someone listening in, they might think you're the lord, not me."
Brynden fell silent, his expression dark, unsure how to respond to the outburst.
...
Watching the argument unfold, Roose Bolton's face remained impassive, as if the discord had nothing to do with him.
Then, playing the part of peacemaker, he stepped forward and said smoothly, "I think what we need now is unity. The immediate threat may be gone, but the war isn't over. Our priority should be ending this war as quickly as possible—not turning on each other."
The tense air eased slightly at his words. The two men, still glaring, slowly looked away from each other. Brynden was the first to speak again.
"Edmure's surprise attack may have succeeded," he admitted, "but Tywin's army suffered little. It was just some supplies that were lost. He can easily replenish those by pillaging the Riverlands. And after this stunt, he'll only be more cautious. There won't be another chance to catch him off guard."
"You misunderstand me, Lord Brynden," Roose said calmly. "I'm not suggesting we strike Tywin again. I'm talking about moving in another direction."
"Another direction?" Brynden frowned. "You mean Lady Dacey's position?"
Roose nodded. "Riverrun is safe for now. Keeping my men here is a waste of soldiers and supplies. I believe it's time to move to Lord Dacey's front—to see whether we might take Harrenhal."
"Take Harrenhal?" Edmure stepped in, puzzled. "You mean with both your forces and Lady Dacey's?"
"No, just mine," Roose replied, shaking his head. "Lady Dacey's troops must remain in place. That way, if I fail, they'll still be there to secure the retreat and hold off any pursuit."
"But your numbers are too small. Less than twenty thousand," Edmure said, shaking his head.
"Twenty thousand is just enough," Roose said confidently. "Kevan Lannister has moved his troops to Duskendale to guard against Stannis's forces on the Crackclaw Point. That leaves Harrenhal with a little over thirty thousand men—scattered, disjointed, each loyal to different banners. They won't coordinate well in battle. That gives us an opening to break them."
"Even so, twenty thousand is cutting it close," Brynden said, frowning. After a pause, he added, "King Robb assigned Lord Robett Glover to watch over the Golden Tooth with seven thousand men. Now that the Golden Tooth can't send out troops anymore, leaving them there is a waste. Those troops could be redeployed. And Lord Helman Tallhart still has two thousand stationed outside the Twins. They could be moved as well. That brings the total to over thirty thousand."
Perhaps swayed by Roose's earlier praise, Edmure spoke up eagerly. "Robb left command of both those contingents to me before he departed. I can transfer them to you immediately."
Brynden frowned but said nothing. In truth, he too believed that Tywin was in no position to launch another assault on Riverrun anytime soon. Keeping so many soldiers stationed here was wasteful. Roose Bolton's plan might not be brilliant—but it was worth a try.
The situation in the Riverlands was shifting by the day—no one could say for certain whether a seemingly minor figure might end up deciding the fate of the entire war. Lynd had been keeping an eye on the unfolding events there, but more often than not, other matters demanded his attention. Right now, it was the latest news from Asshai that had pulled his focus toward the distant lands of eastern Essos.
After nearly a month of waiting, word had finally arrived from Asshai. The news was neither entirely good nor entirely bad.
The city remained under the control of the spellcasters. They had managed to repel the monstrous creatures from the Shadow Lands. It was Jaben who had led the charge, and during the battle, he unleashed a display of dark magic so powerful it surpassed all expectations—earning him once again the title of King of Asshai.
Unlike the hollow title he'd once held, this time Jaben's kingship came with real authority. It was not self-proclaimed but unanimously bestowed by the surviving spellcasters.
Following the repulsion of the Shadow creatures, and at Quillor's suggestion, the surviving spellcasters formed a new organization—something akin to a mage's guild—to jointly govern the city. No longer would they rule as scattered, independent enclaves. This new organization was named the Truth Society, its mission being to seek the truth of magic. Jaben naturally took the role of leader, with Quillor as vice leader.
For Lynd, this was a favorable development. It meant he no longer needed to plot alternate ways to seize control of Asshai—he simply needed to control the Truth Society. And with both the president and vice president being his people, his next move was clear: gradually insert more of his own into the Society until they held the majority. Once that was done, he would have fully supplanted its core and secured control of both the Truth Society and Asshai itself.
However, with the good came the inevitable bad.
Though the spellcasters had beaten back the monsters from the Shadow Lands, they had not eradicated them. Nor had the monsters retreated back into the Shadow itself. Something within that dark region seemed to frighten them, driving them to scatter instead around the outskirts of Asshai. They continued to harass the city intermittently, and many of them had begun spreading to surrounding areas. Merchant ships reported that Leng Island was now home to entire demon colonies. The seas had grown increasingly dangerous, with more sightings of monstrous sea creatures. Alarming signs even pointed to monsters beginning to emerge in the Jade Sea.
All of this had made sailing to Asshai far more perilous—a development that posed a serious threat to Lynd's plans for eastern and southern expansion.
Exploration ships dispatched by the Miracle Fleet to the Jade Sea had already suffered attacks from sea monsters, with four vessels lost and more than a hundred crew members killed. While the fleet did manage to chart a viable route—from Morlack Harbor, through the southern island chain, and on to Asshai—the route itself was treacherous. Not only did monsters inhabit the islands along the way, but the waters were home to a breed of sea creature resembling mermen. Without armed escort, any merchant or cargo ship traveling that path risked falling prey to an ambush.
To address this, Lynd made the only strategic decision he could: deploy the Cannibals to patrol the waters near that route and eliminate the aquatic threats. As for the Stepstones, he ordered the sea monster Dagon to be recalled to guard those isles instead. After all, with both Euron and Victarion dead, there was no longer any need to maintain such a heavy garrison on the Iron Islands.