On the shores of Dragonstone, Stannis Baratheon read the letter from Ned Stark, and his face, already grim, hardened into granite. The truth was out: Joffrey and his siblings were not Robert's children. They were the abominations of Cersei and Jaime Lannister. The Iron Throne was his by right. He immediately summoned the commanders of his fleet, preparing to strike King's Landing and claim what was his.
His strength, however, lay at sea. While his navy was formidable, his land-based forces numbered less than three thousand infantrymen. His total strength was barely more than ten thousand men—not nearly enough to take the capital. He needed more power.
His gaze turned south, toward the Stormlands, the lands that should have been his inheritance. He would first take them back from his younger brother, Renly, and rally the stormlords to his cause. Only then would he march on King's Landing.
"In the flames, I have seen you are the chosen one, Your Majesty," a voice said, smooth as silk. Melisandre, the red priestess, stood before him, her crimson robes a stark contrast to the grey stone of Dragonstone. Her beautiful face was alight with fervor. "The Lord of Light will bless you and see you to the Iron Throne."
"I don't need the blessing of your god," Stannis replied flatly, his jaw tight. He did not trust this mysterious woman who had appeared on his shores, no matter how beautiful she was. "The Iron Throne belongs to me by law. I am simply going to take back what is mine."
"Yes, the Iron Throne has always belonged to you, Your Majesty," Melisandre said, unbothered by his harsh tone. She had followed the guidance of her flames to this island for a reason. She would help this man, whether he wanted her god's help or not.
While Stannis planned, Renly acted. Moving with a speed his older brother could not match, he returned to the Stormlands and, as Lord of Storm's End, called his vassals to arms. He then forged a powerful alliance with Mace Tyrell, the Lord of Highgarden, by promising to marry his daughter, Margaery Tyrell, the 'Rose of Highgarden'.
The lords of the Reach, long eager for a path to greater power, enthusiastically agreed. They assembled an army of thirty thousand, led by Lord Mace Tyrell himself, and marched to join Renly's forces. Their combined strength was a staggering host of more than fifty thousand men.
When news of the two Baratheon armies marching on King's Landing reached the capital, Cersei and Joffrey panicked. A dozen ravens took flight for Casterly Rock, carrying urgent pleas for Lord Tywin to lead his army to their defense.
But Lord Tywin, forewarned of the entire affair by his old friend and informant, Grand Maester Pycelle, was already prepared. By the time Jaime arrived in the Westerlands, his father had already assembled an army of thirty thousand men and was ready to march.
Tywin divided his forces with cold precision. Jaime would lead half the army into the Riverlands. His task was to strike the riverlords hard and fast, before they could join their strength to the Northern army that was surely on its way. Tywin, with the other fifteen thousand, would march to the strategic fortress of Harrenhal. From there, he could move south to crush any army that besieged King's Landing, or he could move to reinforce Jaime against the Starks. He would be perfectly positioned to attack or defend as the situation demanded.
With the plan set, Tywin immediately ordered Jaime to begin his campaign of raids, instructing him to burn the fields and terrorize the smallfolk of the Riverlands. A land in chaos could not effectively support an invading army.
In his burgeoning settlement of Starfire City, on the banks of the White Knife River, Jason heard the news of King Robert's death from traveling merchants. He immediately understood what it meant: the Seven Kingdoms would bleed.
To ensure the safety of his territory and to feed the ambition that was steadily growing within him, Jason ordered the recruitment of another three thousand men, bringing the total strength of his Northern First Army to seven thousand. The corps was now composed of three thousand spearmen, two thousand cavalry, one thousand archers, and a thousand support troops, including engineers and logistical staff.
The massive military expansion cut his available labor force in half, forcing him to slow construction on the new civilian and commercial districts he was building. But with war on the horizon, a strong army was more important than new buildings. The North faced threats from the south, from the Ironborn pirates, from wildlings beyond the Wall, and from the one threat Jason feared most: the army of the dead. He had to be strong enough to protect what he had built.
Once I recruit more people, he thought, construction can resume. And I know just where to find them.
Jason decided he would personally lead a force of one thousand cavalry to join Robb Stark's army on its march south. The decision served two purposes. First, it would solidify his relationship with the Starks and further integrate him into the Northern hierarchy.
Second, and more importantly, he had his eyes on the population of the Riverlands. He knew Jaime's campaign would create untold destruction, leaving thousands of refugees without homes or food. To the Starks and the riverlords, these people would be a burden. To Jason, they were a resource—a vast pool of desperate, hardworking people to populate his city and, eventually, fill the ranks of his army.
He knew he couldn't simply take them. The riverlords were not fools; they would not allow a Northern lord to simply scoop up their smallfolk, even in a time of crisis. He needed a legitimate reason.
Therefore, he would ride south to fight. He would help the riverlords defend their homes from the Lannister invaders. And with the credit and gratitude earned from saving their lands, would it be too much for the Earl of Starfire City to offer shelter to some of their displaced refugees?
Certainly not, he thought with a grim smile. Not too much at all.
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