Eddard Karstark of Twin River City?
Ser Kevan, acting Hand of the King, set down the documents regarding provisions and looked toward Titus Rowan with a furrowed brow. "This is troubling news. Did Lord Tarly mention anything further?"
"Did he request reinforcements?" Rowan asked.
Shaking his head, Kevan said, "No. Lord Tarly only asked me to deliver this message to Lord Tywin. He said nothing more."
"I understand." Kevan's frown deepened, and after a moment of contemplation, he continued. "Lord Titus, Lord Tywin's whereabouts are currently unknown, and King's Landing has not received any ravens from Copper Gate or Haystack Hall. This suggests those two fortresses have not been breached… yet."
Titus Rowan straightened his posture, determination blazing in his eyes. "If I have courage enough, I can travel along the Golden Road through the Kingswood toward Storm's End. If fortune favors me, I may catch up with them." His voice carried steel. "I am willing to go. I have trained in martial arts since childhood, and I once defeated two opponents in a tourney here in King's Landing. The loyal vassals of Goldengrove will provide support. Please entrust this task to me, Ser Kevan."
Kevan nodded. "Very well. Go prepare. If you require anything, see the Red Keep's quartermaster—he will assist you."
Titus Rowan bowed respectfully and exited the Hand's Tower. Kevan remained, deep in thought, his mood darkening with each passing moment. He called out, his voice sharp, "Send for Varys and Ser Adam Marbrand, Commander of the City Watch."
A guard outside acknowledged the command, and soon the sound of retreating footsteps faded. Time moved steadily forward; the morning sun climbed westward, and the shadow along the window slowly stretched southeast.
The door opened with quiet elegance. The Master of Whisperers, robed in rich purple, entered. His pale, plump face bore a polite smile. "My Lord, I heard you summoned me?"
"Yes, Varys." Kevan's gaze was sharp, scrutinizing the eunuch. "I just received news that the current master of Harrenhal is Eddard Karstark, not Brynden Tully. What is your assessment?"
Varys's expression shifted to one of sudden comprehension. "I did receive vague reports. Someone saw what appeared to be a golden sun banner on Harrenhal's walls. It might signify nothing—perhaps Twin River City sent an envoy, or House Karstark reinforced the castle. I've dispatched spies, but they have not returned. I cannot report rumors; it would cause unnecessary trouble."
Kevan considered this carefully. For a moment, he could not discern whether Varys was hiding the truth or if events had unfolded exactly as described. "Do you know Brynden Tully's current location?"
Varys shook his head, spreading his hands helplessly. "Even a Spider cannot weave webs throughout every house. Harrenhal has changed masters frequently; many former servants of House Hoare are dead, injured, or missing. Infiltration takes time, and the Riverlands remain difficult to penetrate. I cannot yet provide accurate information."
Kevan nodded. "I understand. Sit, Varys." He poured brandy into three cups and pushed one toward the eunuch. "The weather grows colder. Take this to warm yourself."
Varys accepted the cup, seating himself with characteristic grace. "Do you expect other guests today?"
"Yes," Kevan replied, sipping his drink. "I have invited Ser Adam Marbrand."
A few urgent knocks sounded at the door. Archmaester Pycelle entered, panting heavily. His long, snowy beard rose and fell with each breath, and he clutched a letter in one hand.
"No… this is terrible!" he gasped. After regaining some composure, he explained, "The Westerlands are under attack. Brynden Tully ambushed Ser Davos near Golden Tooth. Now Lannisport is besieged, and even Casterly Rock is surrounded!"
Shock flashed across Kevan's face, but he quickly regained control. "What of Ser Davos?"
"Ser Davos is seriously wounded and unconscious. Ser Jason of Lannisport sent word by raven." Pycelle handed the letter to Kevan, who read it carefully. The battle report described how Brynden Tully's ambush had overwhelmed the Lannister forces. Ser Davos had misjudged the enemy, believing Lord Tywin's strategy would prevent interference. Yet Tully had bypassed all obstacles, striking from front and rear, crushing the Lannister army.
Kevan exhaled deeply, rubbing his forehead. His thoughts were tangled: Send reinforcements? Alert the Hand? Request aid from the Reach and Dorne? And why had Ser Adam Marbrand not yet arrived?
Varys spoke, concern tinged in his voice. "Your Majesties are en route to Casterly Rock. The Kingsguard, though skilled, and the red-cloaked guards led by Ser Ilyn Paine are too few—barely two hundred men combined."
Kevan's jaw tightened. "We must bring the King and the royal party back first!"
He shouted toward the door: "Send more men immediately! Find Ser Adam Marbrand at once!"
The Commander of the City Watch, clad in black plate-and-chain armor with a golden cloak, entered. His face was grim. "Ser Kevan, I have urgent news."
Kevan nodded sharply. "Speak."
"My Lord, a small band of cavalry is approaching King's Landing rapidly. Within half a day, they may reach Gods Gate or Old Gate. By their sigils, they appear to be from House Karstark of Twin River City."
Ser Adam glared at Varys, suspicion mingled with anger. "The enemy is practically under our walls. Why have we received no warning?"
Kevan explained, "Lord Tarly did send intelligence this morning, but it seems he was defeated by Eddard Karstark." He turned to Ser Adam. "Any Reach soldiers fleeing from the north?"
"No," Marbrand replied.
Pycelle added, "Around noon, a letter addressed to Ser Dickon Tarly arrived from Duskendale. It was private, so I did not open it."
Kevan snapped, realization dawning. "Quick! Check if Dickon Tarly remains in King's Landing."
Ser Adam hurried to investigate. Soon he returned, expression grave. "Dickon Tarly departed for the Reach with several Lords from Horn Hill."
"This is blatant betrayal!" Pycelle exclaimed.
"Do not speculate wildly," Kevan interrupted sternly. Turning to Ser Adam, he inquired, "How many troops currently defend King's Landing?"
"The Golden Cloaks number just over two thousand. They excel at controlling the city and subduing commoners, but against an army like Randyll Tarly's, they are unreliable. They can hold the walls and shoot arrows, nothing more."
"And the Lannister soldiers?" Kevan pressed.
"Five thousand total: one thousand cavalry, four thousand infantry," Marbrand reported.
"Too few," Kevan muttered. Randyll Tarly's ten thousand had been routed swiftly; now the Northern army may march south.
He asked Varys, "Among the armies moving toward the Stormlands, which is closest?"
"The Vale, Lord Royce," Varys replied. "Twenty thousand soldiers besiege Copper Gate and Haystack Hall. Tywin and Mace Tyrell's twenty thousand may already be attacking Storm's End. Ser Loras commands fifteen thousand at Summerhall, planning to invade Cape Wrath and avenge the Reach's losses. The Reach itself is too far; we cannot rely on them."
Kevan nodded grimly. "Ser Adam, dispatch loyal riders to Lord Royce immediately. Order him to send ten thousand troops to reinforce King's Landing. Copper Gate must remain guarded; Haystack Hall is unimportant."
"Yes, My Lord." Marbrand departed, calculating how to traverse the five-hundred-kilometer distance in two days. A small, inconspicuous team would travel via Mud Gate and cross the Blackwater River by boat, riding three horses per man to maintain speed.
Marbrand stopped, turning back. "My Lord, should I call for the Redwyne twins?"
Kevan pondered. "Explain."
"They can ferry reinforcements across the Blackwater quickly, despite their fleet being weakened. Seventy or eighty warships and over a hundred transports remain. They could act as a bridge, expediting reinforcements into the city."
"Excellent. Proceed as you suggest," Kevan approved.
The city trembled with impending war, and every action taken in King's Landing now carried the weight of survival.
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