Ah!
Tyrion Lannister jolted awake, kicking out as he lay drenched in sweat on his bed.
In his dream, Brynden Tully's arrow had struck him, sending him plummeting through the air.
The last thing he saw was Blackfish loosing another arrow, piercing the eye of Jaime's horse. Damn Blackfish—his aim was the sharpest Tyrion had ever seen.
Foolish brother, he thought. I told him everything, so why rush headlong to his death?
Then again, perhaps that was Jaime Lannister. For all the sordid nonsense with our sister, he was, in truth, a knight.
Tyrion also understood one thing: even with foresight, the world could not be fully controlled.
Especially not when trying to direct it all through letters. Too many uncertainties.
He turned his head and saw Shae beside him, her back to him, half-covered by the blanket.
Remembering his first dream, he knew he had to take her with him. Rising quietly, he slipped outside, careful not to disturb her sleep, looking for a tree to piss against.
The sky was already paling, night fading in the gentle embrace of dawn. Along the eastern horizon, a faint wash of blue-gray spread like the softest watercolor between earth and sky. The stars dimmed, the moon drifted toward its rest, leaving behind a trace of silver glow mingling with the first light.
The air carried a crisp chill, tinged with the scent of blood—the promise of a new day. In the distance, the outlines of mountains, burning trees, and collapsed houses grew clear in the dim light, like delicate silhouettes quietly telling their story.
Bronn sat cross-legged beneath a chestnut tree near the tethered horses, sharpening his sword. Unlike others, the mercenary seemed to need little sleep, a fact Tyrion envied.
"How long have I slept?" Tyrion asked, loosening his trousers.
"Not long," Bronn answered. "The war's about to begin."
"So soon?" The sound of water splashing followed as Tyrion shivered. "How do you know?"
"Thanks to you," Bronn said. "Your father's been sending scouts nonstop these past days. One came in the night looking for you. I told him you were sound asleep and that he could tell me instead."
"Stark's army has pushed to within half a day's march," Bronn went on, still working his blade. "Your father has decided we march at dawn and meet them at noon."
"Why noon?" Tyrion frowned. "If it were me, I'd strike them at night."
"Then ask your father," Bronn replied. "How's the girl?"
"Fine." Tyrion pulled up his trousers, crouched to lace his boots. "Keep an eye on her. Don't let anyone take her."
"Don't worry."
Tyrion's tent wasn't far from Tywin's command post. The Old Lion had wanted his son quartered right next door, but Tyrion insisted on staying near the mountain clans. If left alone too long, they'd likely slaughter each other before battle even began.
The closer he moved toward the camp's center, the denser the soldiers became. They filed between tents in small groups, some whispering, others trudging silently.
Most still looked groggy, freshly roused from sleep, but their armor was polished and their gear in order.
Their mail and plate glinted coldly in the pale light, weapons gleaming bright, radiating a quiet, deadly intent. Everything about them spoke of discipline and strength. Even in this still hour of dawn, there was no slackness.
The guards at the command tent saw Tyrion and stepped aside, lifting the flap to let him in.
Inside were familiar faces. Tywin Lannister was already fully armored, with Kevan and the other knights seated.
"Look who's here." Tywin said when he saw Tyrion. The noble lords rose to their feet, and applause rippled through the great tent.
"See the little lion," Tywin remarked. "It's thanks to him that we learned of the Stark host's movements in time."
"Any word from my brother?" Tyrion asked.
"Not yet," Uncle Kevan replied. "Our letters have been delivered. Jaime has your instructions, and as planned, a reply from Riverrun should arrive later this afternoon."
Tyrion pulled out a chair and sat down.
"Gregor Clegane's cavalry arrived last night," Tywin said, looking directly at Tyrion, as though speaking only to him. "Our scouts report the northerners are short on horsemen. This will be our chance."
"So that's why you chose to meet them at noon?" Tyrion asked. "To show them our mighty cavalry, and have them yield without a fight?"
"The disparity between our forces is too great. We need no tiresome tricks," Tywin Lannister declared.
True enough, Father had never relied on stratagems in battle, Tyrion thought. With the vast lands and gold of the Westerlands at his disposal, the armies he raised were always well-armed and well-drilled. In a fair fight, few in the Seven Kingdoms could stand against them.
Perhaps the Tyrells could, with their larger lands and greater numbers in the south. But Highgarden—hmph. Their hold over their vassals was nothing compared to House Lannister's.
The rest of the war council was tedious.
One knight was given charge of the cavalry—Tyrion thought he heard the name Marbrand. Another Ser took the right, another the left; Kevan Lannister would command the archers in the center. Tyrion didn't follow all the details, but he knew his father was unmatched in placing the right men in the right posts.
At least in matters of battle array, the knowledge his strange foresight had given him was of little use.
When the lords had been assigned their duties, they filed out of the tent, until only Tywin, Kevan, and Tyrion remained.
"And me?" Tyrion asked. "Why haven't you given me a role?"
"You're not needed yet," Tywin replied. "You've no experience commanding men. I've given your savages to Gregor Clegane."
"The Mountain..." Tyrion muttered. "Let's hope that mad brute doesn't drive my clansmen straight to their deaths."
"The clansmen are not your sworn swords," Tywin corrected. "You may scorn Gregor Clegane's methods, but in time, he will prove the most loyal of your followers. Beyond your brother, there are other blades in this world that can serve you."
"Speaking of my brother, that reminds me of something," Tyrion said. "I must reach King's Landing quickly. I have a feeling something foolish is about to happen."