Riverrun, banks of the Red Fork.
The sky was clear and bright, the wind gentle and pleasant. It should have been a peaceful day, but for House Tully, today was a day of sorrow.
Hoster Tully, the old Lord of House Tully, father of Catelyn and Edmure, had died.
Of old age.
In this era of raging war, dying peacefully in one's bed could perhaps be considered a kind of fortune.
But the funeral still had to be held.
According to House Tully's water burial tradition, the heir, Edmure Tully, needed to shoot a flaming arrow into the small boat carrying his father's body as it drifted downstream, thus cremating him.
Eddard Stark had co from the Northern army with his wife and children to attend his father-in-law's funeral.
Many nobles from both House Tully and the North had gathered by the river. Everyone wore black and wore grave expressions.
On the river, a small boat was slowly released. Hoster Tully's body lay upon it, surrounded by dry grass and firewood.
The boat drifted slowly downstream with the current.
The maester began the eulogy, his voice low and solemn: "Today, we bid farewell to the Lord of Riverrun, Lord of the Trident, Hoster Tully."
"He was once the proudest lord of the Riverlands. Beneath the red-and-blue trout banner stood his tall and powerful figure, and his hair burned like fla."
"His life was tightly bound to the rivers of this land. In his youth, he rode to the War of the Ninepenny Kings, where he made friends and won honor. In the fires of Robert's Rebellion, he made the difficult but correct choice, leading the lords of the Riverlands to stand shoulder to shoulder with Stark, Arryn, and Baratheon to overthrow a rotten dynasty. He betrothed his eldest daughter Catelyn to the North's resolve, and his youngest daughter Lysa to the Vale's falcon, weaving powerful alliances through marriage to protect this war-torn land."
Everyone bowed their heads in mourning.
Finally, the most critical mont arrived.
Edmure Tully took a deep breath and picked up his bow. He took an arrow wrapped with oil-soaked cloth from a squire and lit it.
Flas danced on the arrowhead.
He drew the bow, aid, and released.
One smooth motion.
However…
The arrow flew over the boat and fell into the water.
A miss.
The crowd was slightly surprised, but no one spoke. They continued mourning in silence.
Edmure felt a little embarrassed, but he quickly composed himself. He took another arrow, lit it, aid, and judged the wind.
Whoosh~
Close, but no cigar.
Another miss.
The atmosphere instantly beca awkward.
Catelyn couldn't help but lift her head from her grief and exchange a glance with her husband Eddard Stark. Both saw helplessness and embarrassnt in each other's eyes.
Edmure's hands began to shake.
He picked up a third arrow. This ti he took even longer to aim than the previous two combined. Everyone's hearts tightened with the arrow he released.
The arrow flew.
But Edmure had overcompensated. The flaming arrow landed in the water several feet short of the boat.
In the mourning crowd, soone couldn't hold back.
A soft chuckle escaped, then was imdiately suppressed.
Edmure's face turned bright red.
He looked anxiously at the river. The current here was quite fast. The boat carrying his father's body had already drifted far downstream and was about to round the bend.
The pressure was imnse.
He reached for a fourth arrow. His hand visibly trembled.
He rembered how he had failed to defend his lands, how he had been unable to stop the Lannister invasion and allowed most of the Riverlands to fall.
Could he not even properly send his father off?
This would be a humiliation that reached all the way to the North.
Endless sha and panic surged in his heart.
At that mont, a large hand pressed down on his shoulder.
The Blackfish, Brynden Tully — Hoster's brother and Edmure's uncle. He was a considerate elder. He spoke softly, "Let do it."
Edmure hesitated.
But the Blackfish could no longer watch. The old lord's body was about to round the bend.
He directly took the arrow from Edmure's hand, lit it, drew the bow, aid, and judged the wind speed.
One arrow flew.
Then he casually tossed the bow to a squire. A real man never looks back to check the shot!
The flaming arrow traced a perfect arc through the air and struck the edge of the small boat dead center.
Whoosh~
The dry grass ignited instantly. Fierce flas roared to life.
The boat beca a fireball, carrying Hoster Tully's body as it slowly drifted away in the flas.
The funeral was finally completed.
At the evening feast, the atmosphere lightened considerably.
The Blackfish even helped his nephew save face: "Back in the day, Hoster himself couldn't hit it with one shot either. I rember his first attempt — he missed five tis in a row."
Everyone laughed kindly.
But afterward, people still gave Edmure Tully the nickna "The Archer of the Three Rivers"!
The sarcasm was thick.
Several days later.
On the banks of the Trident, at the Ruby Ford.
Two armies faced each other four miles apart.
Backing up against Harrenhal was the Lannister army, numbering around twenty-five thousand. Twenty thousand were elite Westerlands troops, while the other five thousand were levies forcibly conscripted during Tywin's recent sweep of the Riverlands — mostly farrs with limited combat ability.
On the other side was the Northern army, roughly twenty thousand strong. The Northern force had actually lost around six thousand n earlier, but had received reinforcents from Riverrun.
After all, the Young Wolf Robb had lifted the siege of Riverrun, so their numbers had instead grown to twenty thousand.
Banners snapped in the wind on both sides. The air was thick with tension.
But today, they were not here to fight.
Today, they were here to exchange prisoners.
From each army, a detachnt of two hundred n slowly advanced toward the other side and stopped when they were two hundred paces apart.
This was a sandbar — open and flat terrain that prevented either side from launching a sudden cavalry charge.
On the Northern side, Eddard Stark led the group personally.
On the Westerlands side, naturally, it was Tywin Lannister himself.
This was his most valued son, the heir of Casterly Rock. He would allow no mishap to befall Jai.
Both sides imdiately sent trusted n to verify the prisoners in the other's hands: to confirm it was truly Jai Lannister and truly Arya Stark!
The two captives were brought forward to show their faces so the attendants could verify their identities.
While waiting for confirmation, Eddard Stark and Tywin Lannister began a verbal confrontation.
Eddard shouted loudly, "Tywin Lannister, stand down!"
"Joffrey is not Robert's true son. He cannot inherit the Iron Throne! According to the law, the Iron Throne should pass to Robert's trueborn son or his brothers! Since all of Robert's bastards have been killed by Cersei and their identities cannot be confird, it should go to Stannis Baratheon!"
His voice rang clearly across the sandbar.
"The North has already allied with Dragonstone. House Lannister's defeat is inevitable! You cannot withstand the combined forces of both our houses! As long as you withdraw your troops and have Cersei and her children leave King's Landing, I guarantee I will plead with the new king to spare the lives of those three children!"
Tywin let out a cold laugh, then burst into loud laughter.
"Hahaha—!"
His laughter echoed across the river.
"Eddard Stark, do you think that's possible? Joffrey is Robert's true son! The Faith in King's Landing has already investigated and confird Joffrey's true identity and legitimate claim!"
"You, and Stannis, are the real traitors to the realm! You murdered the king and your own brother just to seize the Iron Throne!"
He stopped laughing, his voice turning ice-cold.
"I, Tywin Lannister, am ashad to stand with dishonorable and disloyal n like you!"
Eddard was speechless.
"You… you are spouting nonsense!" he said, his face pale with anger. "The Lannisters truly have the hearts of wolves. You must have been plotting to seize the Iron Throne for a long ti! You never truly submitted to King Robert!"
He could hardly believe it. How could the man across from him twist black and white so shalessly?
Was this truly Tywin Lannister?
The man known for ruling the Westerlands with an iron fist, famous across the Seven Kingdoms for honor and discipline?
He seed like a fake!
After a round of verbal sparring, both sides began the prisoner exchange.
They used the "simultaneous opposite movent" thod.
Both sides released their hostages at the sa ti, allowing them to walk toward their own camps. The two would pass each other in the middle.
The beauty of this thod was that neither side could attack before the other's hostage reached safety, or their own hostage would be put in danger.
The two captives began to move.
Both groups grew secretly anxious, fearing the other side might break their word or have so trick prepared.
In truth, both Eddard Stark and Tywin Lannister were relatively upright n who valued their reputation and had no intention of sabotaging the exchange.
However, both had prepared contingencies. Archers lay in ambush behind each side, just in case.
The two captives t in the middle.
Jai Lannister looked down at the small girl — Arya Stark, barely ten years old, her small fra wrapped in oversized robes.
They had crossed paths several tis in the North and King's Landing.
He raised an eyebrow and gave her a comforting smile.
"Don't worry. You're safe now. Your family is waiting for you."
His voice was gentle.
Arya said nothing, her face expressionless.
Jai sensed sothing was off but paid it no mind. He assud the little girl had been traumatized by her captivity — which was normal.
He deliberately walked slowly, not wanting to take advantage of the girl's short legs.
More importantly, he knew his father.
Would that old fox Tywin suddenly break his word and attack the Northern party? He needed to keep watch.
The two captives slowly walked toward their respective sides.
Soon, Arya reached the Northern lines.
Eddard Stark and Robb Stark imdiately dismounted and rushed to their daughter and sister.
Eddard knelt down, placing both hands on his daughter's shoulders and looking her over.
His eyes were filled with heartache and guilt. This youngest daughter should have grown up carefree in Winterfell, yet because of his choices she had been sent to King's Landing, imprisoned, and used as a bargaining chip.
"Arya… my child…" his voice choked with emotion.
Robb also smiled, preparing to hug his sister.
However, the next second, disaster struck.
Before anyone could react, the "Arya" pulled a dagger from her sleeve and stabbed it into Eddard Stark's throat with lightning speed.
Blood gushed out instantly.
Eddard's words were cut short.
He clutched his throat in agony, but the blood would not stop. His eyes widened as he stared at this "daughter," filled with disbelief.
Robb's smile froze.
"No—!"
He cried out, his voice torn with anguish.
The other retainers' faces changed dramatically as they drew their swords.
The "Arya" quickly pushed Eddard away, letting him fall into Robb's arms, then ran toward the Green Fork just a few ters away.
Splash!
She jumped into the water.
Robb held his father, tears streaming down his face.
"No! No! No!"
Eddard lay in his son's arms, his lips moving as he tried to speak. But with his throat slashed, no words ca out. Only blood continued to pour.
In his eyes were reflected his son's face and the distant sky.
Then, those eyes gradually lost their light.
Lord Rickard Karstark drew his longsword and roared, "Tywin Lannister!"
He was about to call for everyone to charge the distant Lannister party.
But Roose Bolton and several other more level-headed lords imdiately stopped him.
"Don't be reckless!"
"Save Lord Eddard first!"
"This is Tywin's trap! There must be an ambush here. We must leave imdiately!"
Chaos erupted.
In the distance, Tywin Lannister watched the scene with a look of surprise.
Seeing the Northern forces fall into disorder, he assud the North was breaking their word and attempting to "capture the king." He imdiately shouted orders to those around him.
"Jai has returned. Withdraw the army at once! The North is acting in bad faith and is coming to kill us!"
Upon hearing this, Jai turned around in confusion. Sure enough, he saw the Northern forces falling into chaos!
His eyes widened. He turned back to look at his father Tywin Lannister, full of bewildernt…
The Westerlands forces slowly began to retreat.
anwhile, on the Ruby Ford, the Northern lords gathered around Eddard Stark's body, their cries shaking the heavens.
Robb knelt beside his father, his whole body trembling.
That seventeen-year-old Young Wolf now had tears in his eyes — and hatred burning within them.
He knew that from this mont on, everything had changed.
He was no longer the boy who followed his father to learn how to govern their lands.
He was no longer the son who needed his father to show him the way.
Because his father was gone!
--------------------------
Support us on P@tre0n and gain access to 100 chapters in advance!
[email protected]/inkshield
User Comments
0 comments from readers