The sharp, biting words came first, slicing through the tension in the tent. A grey-haired, short yet sturdy middle-aged woman sat across from Eddard, clad in polished scale armor. The green surcoat she wore bore the emblem of a bear, the proud sigil of her house.
Eddard immediately recognized her. Lady Maege Mormont, the ruler of Bear Island and the head of House Mormont. Known for her unwavering loyalty to the Stark family, she was not easily pleased. And now, she looked both disapproving and furious at the behavior of House Karstark.
The recent loss of Eddard's brother, Toren, had been tragic, but the manner in which the Karstarks were handling their grief—threatening to abandon their duties—struck many Northern lords as disrespectful, even dishonorable. Lady Maege was no exception.
"Is this how House Karstark honors the memory of the fallen?" she asked sharply, her tone icy enough to cut steel.
Eddard remained calm, his eyes meeting hers evenly. "Lady Maege, I believe you understand the pain of losing a loved one. When Jorah Mormont abandoned the North to pursue slaving, did it not wound you as an aunt? Did it not pierce your heart to see a family member stray?"
Her grey-black eyes flashed with rage. Eddard's words were a calculated provocation, a reminder of the shame Jorah had brought upon House Mormont. He continued, voice steady, "Yet I wonder, has that pain not been softened by the inheritance of Bear Island?"
The Great Bear of House Mormont had been disgraced in recent years, acquiring wealth through illicit trade and running off with his wife, leaving his home tarnished. It was a subject no noble liked to hear spoken aloud. But Eddard, undaunted, had spoken it clearly in front of witnesses, deliberately testing Lady Maege's temper.
"Ha! You little bastard, cursed to die by the Others!" Lady Maege roared, rising from her seat with a spiked mace gripped tightly in her hands. "Say that again if you dare!"
Eddard did not flinch. He gripped the handle of his battle-axe and rose to meet her fury. "Want to fight? Seeing as you are an elder and a woman, I can give you one hand!"
Calm and composed, he was ready for confrontation. His body had been strengthened beyond the limits of ordinary men, and he was eager to test his abilities—even against the formidable Lady of Bear Island.
Yet, deep down, Eddard held respect for the Mormonts. Their loyalty to House Stark was absolute, and loyalty deserved recognition, even if it could not excuse public provocation. If he showed weakness, he would be mocked; if his response lacked precision, his reputation might be tarnished forever. Northern nobles were unforgiving in such matters.
"Enough!" a firm voice cut through the tension. "Weapons should be aimed at Lannisters, not our own allies. Karstark, Lady Mormont, calm yourselves!"
Robb Stark had entered the tent, flanked by his personal guard in disciplined single file. Daisy Mormont, the young heir to Bear Island, tensed instinctively, her hand gripping her sword hilt. Her brown-grey eyes were sharp with anger. Robb, with a simple gesture, calmed her, and she reluctantly lowered her weapon.
Lady Maege, still visibly fuming, finally suppressed her wrath, though her glare remained fixed on Eddard. Recognizing the restraint of the Stark heir, Eddard dropped his axe and stepped back, ceasing his provocation. In the recent exchange, it was the older woman who had been rattled; he had maintained control with careful words and composure.
Jon Umber, seated nearby, muttered in disbelief, "I did not expect the youngest son of House Karstark to possess such a sharp tongue."
He was not alone in his surprise. Lady Catelyn Stark observed quietly, recalling the young man she had met previously: cheerful, honest, and enthusiastic, yet not at all eloquent. Last night, Eddard had witnessed his brother's death, and perhaps, she mused, tragedy had sharpened his mind.
The tent quieted as Robb unfolded a large map, tracing the area around Riverrun. Eddard's eyes followed with careful attention. Riverrun lay at the western confluence of the Red Fork and Tum Stone River, protected by centuries-old fortifications. A moat on the west side could be flooded at will, creating a nearly impregnable defense.
Now, the Lannisters had divided their forces, establishing three camps around the castle to the north, west, and south. The goal was clear: a total siege. It was a rare opportunity for the Northern army to exploit enemy division.
Robb Stark addressed the assembly, his young voice steady and commanding. Lady Maege would lead the North's finest cavalry to raid the western scouts, blinding and disrupting enemy reconnaissance. Brynden Tully, the legendary Blackfish, would command a vanguard of two thousand cavalry to strike the northern camp. The Young Wolf himself would lead Earl Umber and the Melister family in a direct assault from the west.
When Robb turned to Eddard, the young Karstark rose immediately. He had noticed discrepancies in the proposed plan. "Lord Stark," he began, "I have heard that Earl Andros Brax of Hornvale is quick-tempered. If he commands the western camp, then after Ser Brynden's attack on the northern camp, he may rush to reinforce. Crossing the river will disorganize his forces, and that is when an attack could yield better results."
Robb's eyes brightened. Admiration and relief mingled within him. Eddard's observation showed intelligence, caution, and loyalty. He was still young, but his House's support was certain.
"Your suggestion is well-taken, Eddard," Robb nodded, then shifted the topic. "Do you know Ser Foeller Prester of the southern bank?"
Eddard considered. The southern camp held two thousand spearmen and an equal number of archers. Observing their discipline and retreat patterns, he surmised, "Ser Foeller is cautious and resilient. He will likely prioritize withdrawal when the other camps are attacked."
Robb's jaw tightened slightly. "I do not want the Lannisters to retreat so easily. House Karstark must hold him in place until the others are dealt with. Only then can we destroy his forces."
Eddard raised an eyebrow. The plan deviated significantly from history. With just three hundred light cavalry against four thousand well-armed soldiers, the task was daunting. But Eddard had no authority to refuse—it was up to his father to decide whether to commit fully.
"I will report faithfully to my father after the meeting," he said. "He will decide promptly."
Robb's young face briefly fell, disappointment evident, but his resolve quickly returned. Victory, he knew, was the only thought that mattered now.
"My lords, if there are no further questions, depart at once. We must reach Riverrun before nightfall," Robb concluded, dismissing the assembly. The tent filled with the sounds of movement and conversation as lords prepared to leave.
Eddard turned to exit, but a shadow blocked his path. Daisy Mormont stood firm, her armor gleaming, a longsword with a bear claw imprint at her waist. Her eyes blazed with fury. "Eddard, your words insulted Bear Island. You insulted House Mormont."
Eddard assessed her calmly, taller and stronger despite her impressive presence. He extended a hand and gently pushed her aside. "Your Great Bear may roam Essos, but he lives. My brother Toren died defending Robb against the Kingslayer in the Haunted Forest. If your mother does not apologize to my father, my words will not be retracted."
He raised his battle-axe steadily. "Or, do you intend to challenge me on Lady Maege's behalf?"
Daisy hesitated, realizing that her skill with words could not match his sharpness. With a swish, she drew her longsword, prepared to settle the dispute with blades rather than banter.
The tension hung in the morning air. Outside the tent, the Northern army was readying for war, but within, a younger generation of lords and heirs tested each other's mettle—not with politics, but with steel and wit. Eddard, for all his youth, had shown that even a junior could command respect, instill caution, and assert his family's honor.
The pre-war meeting ended not with conclusions, but with the quiet understanding that loyalty, strategy, and courage were the currency of survival. Eddard Karstark had already begun earning his share.
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