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In Westeros, where no city haze dimmed the sky, night could be one of two things. Beneath clear moonlight, even night could be fairly bright. Or it could be black as ink, endless darkness covering the land.
Highgarden's night was the latter.
A long wolf howl, seemingly filled with joy, suddenly rang through Highgarden. Margaery, who had been dreaming sweetly, woke with a start. Half-asleep, she reached toward the other side of the great bed, wanting to hold Robb.
Her hand landed on the empty feather bed. Only then did she gradually wake. By the dim yellow light of four night lamps in the corners, she found that Robb was no longer in the bed.
'Did His Grace step out for a moment?'
Margaery sat up. The feather quilt slid from her naked body. She looked around the bedchamber and guessed in her heart.
Since she had already been woken by the howl from somewhere, Margaery simply draped a pale green silk nightgown over herself and went to the wine cabinet inside the room.
Robb disliked having maids serve inside the bedchamber, so with no one to command, Margaery could only personally pour herself a cup of golden Arbor wine.
Margaery tasted the fine wine while quietly thinking. But after several cups, Robb still had not returned.
She suddenly set down the cup, rose, and walked to the chamber door, preparing to go out and look.
The door creaked open.
The moment Margaery opened it, she saw a figure standing in the dark corridor. A pair of eyes glowing faint green stared straight at her, making her cry out in alarm.
"Margaery, where are you going?"
As the familiar voice sounded, the figure with the green eyes stepped forward. In the light from the room, it was clearly Robb, who had not returned.
"Whew. Your Grace, you frightened me. I saw that you had not returned to the bedchamber, so I was going out to look."
Seeing that it was Robb, Margaery immediately stopped her cry and took a deep breath, still shaken, as she answered.
While answering, Margaery carefully looked at Robb's eyes. She did not see any green glow. They were still those yellow eyes.
Margaery shook her head, thinking she must not have woken fully and had seen wrong.
"Perhaps I slept too long inside that ice statue. I could not sleep tonight, so I went out to move around."
Robb smiled brightly as he answered Margaery.
"Your Grace, you... seem very happy?"
Looking at Robb's smiling face, Margaery could not help asking curiously.
"Happy? Perhaps because I thought of a new way to play."
Robb smiled and tilted his head as he answered. Then he bent and swept Margaery into his arms.
"Ah, Your Grace, you march tomorrow. Tonight, perhaps you should not... mm..."
The bedchamber door closed.
Early the next morning, outside Highgarden's northern wall, crowds gathered and the scene was lively.
A few days earlier, Willas had already taken five thousand Tyrell cavalry, eight thousand prisoner soldiers, large quantities of grain and supplies, and nearly a hundred thousand refugees from Highgarden's encampment toward Goldengrove.
Now the remaining hundred-thousand-plus refugees stood before their tents, watching the commotion.
Not far away, thirty thousand new soldiers in old armor marched noisily north along the Roseroad.
These newly conscripted soldiers of Lord Mace not only marched in a terrible disorder, but when they saw familiar people in the refugee encampment, they even shouted greetings.
Fortunately, a group of lesser officers on horseback was specifically maintaining order among the recruits. Otherwise, these new soldiers might not have left Highgarden's area in an entire day.
Behind the recruits came ten thousand Reach noble infantry in ordinary equipment, followed by twenty-five thousand finely equipped Tyrell cavalry. Lord Mace and his sons, Garlan and Loras, rode at the front of the cavalry.
As the display House Tyrell was proudest of, these cavalry formations were neat and pleasing to the eye. Beneath the sunlight, their polished weapons and armor flashed.
Behind them marched nearly ten thousand Martell soldiers in exotic dress and two thousand Tarly soldiers.
Oberyn, lazy in bearing, rode beside Lord Randyll, whose expression was stern.
Lord Randyll did not march with House Tyrell, seemingly because some unpleasant friction had occurred between him and Lord Mace while Robb slept inside the giant ice statue.
At the very rear marched the final force, fifteen thousand northern soldiers.
Robb stood proudly on Bloodwind's head. The half-white hair of man and wolf echoed each other. Wyl and the other Wolfguard rode their bloodkin ice direwolves around him.
The fifteen thousand northern soldiers marched in neat ranks as well. They moved in silence, and a killing chill seemed to hang over the entire formation.
On the broad waters of the Mander west of Highgarden, countless medium and small longships and oared warships sailed west. This was the combined fleet of the ironborn and House Redwyne.
The two fleets' larger warships were already waiting where the Mander flowed into the Sunset Sea. Once they joined, they would sail straight for Blackwater Bay outside King's Landing.
In the Riverlands, at Harrenhal, in the Hall of a Hundred Hearths.
The stump of Brynden's left arm was no longer wrapped in bandages. A thick scab could be clearly seen at the severed elbow.
Sometimes, when Brynden moved too forcefully, a fluid that looked half like blood and half like pus seeped from the wound.
At this moment, the pale-faced Brynden stubbornly discussed the war with Lord Tytos and Smalljon.
"We have been surrounded by the enemy for twenty-five days. I do not know whether Riverrun is holding according to my arrangements. And the pleas for aid sent to Highgarden have never received a reply."
Looking at the map on the table, Brynden frowned, worrying over Riverrun's safety and Highgarden's response.
"Lord Brynden, please rest assured. The enemy main force is the one surrounding Harrenhal. As long as they do not leave, Riverrun should not be in danger. Still, the villages and towns of the Riverlands will suffer disaster again.
"As for Highgarden, the enemy has likely sealed Harrenhal off. Even if King Robb sends aid from Highgarden, marching around through the Westerlands and then along the River Road to Harrenhal will take at least one or two months.
"After all, our cavalry is trapped here. Infantry marches slowly."
Hearing Brynden, Lord Tytos immediately offered comfort to the wounded and worried commander.
"Lord Tytos is right. Lord Brynden, do not worry so much. We can hold Harrenhal for at least a year or two. Once His Grace's army arrives, it will certainly crush these enemies easily."
Smalljon quickly spoke in agreement.
"Do not be so optimistic. If we relax even a little, something may go wrong. I have already told you how I lost this hand.
"The enemy also has someone who can use magic like His Grace. That man has not made another move during this time. Who knows whether they are planning something?"
Brynden was careful by nature, much like Crey. He was used to preparing for the worst.
"You are right. I..."
Smalljon had just begun to nod and answer when hurried footsteps came from outside the Hall of a Hundred Hearths. Edd, responsible for today's wall defense, strode in with a grave face.
"Lord Brynden, many enemies are gathering from all over the Riverlands. The enemy should be preparing to act against Harrenhal in earnest."
Edd reported loudly as soon as he entered.
"Come. Let us look from the wall."
Brynden's worry flashed across his face and disappeared. He spoke in a low voice and led the way out.
A short while later, Brynden and the others reached Harrenhal's towering walls. Brynden immediately approached the battlements and looked down.
The Brotherhood uprising army's camp had clearly expanded far beyond before. In the distance, groups of men and horses were still gathering toward it.
"It seems the enemy is indeed preparing to attack us. Inside the castle, we still have six thousand infantry, seven thousand light cavalry, and sixteen hundred heavy cavalry.
"Relying on Harrenhal's defenses, I would not fear them even if they returned to the two or three hundred thousand men they had before. But that man who can use fire magic..."
Looking at the enemy situation below, Brynden gave his judgment in a low voice. Then he paused slightly and continued firmly.
"I will organize a death squad. If that man truly uses magic to bombard the gate, I will lead the death squad out and kill him."
"Lord Brynden, let me lead the death squad."
The moment Brynden finished, Lord Tytos, Smalljon, and Edd spoke almost at the same time.
"No need to argue. I have decided. Heh, let this cripple fight one final battle."
Brynden shook his head. He waved his severed arm twice before the three of them and spoke with an easy expression.
Seeing Brynden's determined face, the other three exchanged glances and fell silent.
"Enough. Do not look so gloomy. Come back and drink with me. They will not attack today."
Brynden greeted the three of them with calm openness, then turned and descended from the wall.
The Brotherhood uprising army did indeed behave as Brynden expected and did not attack Harrenhal that day.
But Brynden had not expected that they would not attack on the first day, nor on the next three days.
As forces continued pouring in, the Brotherhood's camp grew to roughly three times its original size.
In other words, they had initially left only twenty thousand men to surround Harrenhal. Now they had reached more than sixty thousand.
Even more unexpectedly, on the fifth day, the Brotherhood's sixty-thousand-man army began breaking camp and leaving Harrenhal.
"Hm. Is this a trap they set?
"They pretend to leave Harrenhal but actually lie in ambush nearby. Then, when we relax and leave the castle, they seize Harrenhal in one stroke?"
Looking at the Brotherhood army truly marching south along the kingsroad, Edd guessed uncertainly.
"Mm. I agree with Edd."
Smalljon, who preferred using his hands over his head, immediately nodded in agreement.
"If it is not a trap, then if they march south... is their target King's Landing?"
Lord Tytos did not immediately agree with Edd. He considered other possibilities.
After listening to the three of them, Brynden gave his own judgment.
"Whether they have set a trap or are truly going to King's Landing, it does not matter to us.
"We need only hold Harrenhal properly."
In the Reach, at Cider Hall.
"Ha ha ha! I was first onto the wall in this battle!"
An Oakheart soldier from Old Oak stood on Cider Hall's wall, waving the ice direwolf banner in his hand and laughing wildly in excitement.
After the castle was broken, tens of thousands of soldiers began looting Cider Hall, while the northern soldiers served as temporary enforcers.
Inside Cider Hall's audience hall, its former rulers, House Fossoway, knelt before Robb.
"Your Grace, we beg your mercy. We are willing to swear fealty to you."
With his father and brothers dead in battle, Lord Tanton Fossoway, newly succeeded, looked lost as he offered fealty to Robb.
"Answer my questions truthfully, and I can show you mercy."
Looking at Lord Tanton, Robb answered in a gentle tone, then immediately asked,
"Why were there only a few hundred men defending the castle? Where is House Lannister?"
"Your Grace, the Lannisters are men who do not keep promises. They once promised to ensure nothing happened to us. But some time ago, they demanded that we abandon Cider Hall and move the entire family to King's Landing.
"How could that be possible? Cider Hall is the castle where our ancestors lived generation after generation. How could we abandon it?"
Hearing Robb's question, Lord Tanton immediately answered with indignation.
"So the Lannister army has already withdrawn entirely to King's Landing? You were abandoned pieces?"
Robb spoke thoughtfully.
"Your Grace, I have answered your question. Can you pardon us?"
"Mm. You have my pardon."
"Thank you. Thank you, Your Grace."
Looking at Lord Tanton nodding in thanks again and again, Robb turned to Lord Mace beside him.
"Lord Mace, I have pardoned them. Now they are yours."
"Thank you, Your Grace. I will 'pardon' them properly."
When Lord Mace first heard Robb pardon Lord Tanton, his face twitched. But after hearing Robb's next sentence, he immediately smiled and gave thanks.
Although Lord Mace did not truly have outstanding ability, he was still a qualified noble. Toward bannermen who dared betray their liege lord, he would repay them in the cruelest way.
"No, no, Your Grace! Lord Mace! Mercy, mercy..."
Understanding the meaning in Robb's words, Lord Tanton's expression changed drastically, and he began begging.
Robb ignored him and left the audience hall with Crey, Wyl, and the other Wolfguard.
"Crey, persuade the Fossoway soldiers to surrender. Those willing to yield go into Lord Mace's new soldiers. Those unwilling are sent to me."
Robb currently lacked blood pact points, so once he came out, he immediately gave Crey the order.
Crey nodded and went to handle it for Robb. He was already very familiar with such matters.
After Bloodwind's Magic reached one hundred points, it could no longer be raised. Robb did not yet know the reason. Bloodwind's Physique, however, still lacked a little before reaching one hundred.
Although Robb was fully confident in this attack on King's Landing, he did not mind adding a little more to his hand.
In the end, House Fossoway could not endure Lord Mace's "pardon." Cider Hall was granted by Lord Mace to the family of his son Garlan's wife, House Fossoway of New Barrel.
This branch family, always loyal to House Tyrell, finally obtained the castle of the main line they had long dreamed of.
Over the next dozen days, Longtable, Grassy Vale, and Bitterbridge were taken by Robb's army one after another with great ease. In these battles, the northern army at the rear did not need to act, nor did the Martells or Tarlys.
Bitterbridge, where King Renly had once stationed his army to pressure King's Landing, now held Robb's hundred-thousand-strong army, watching King's Landing from afar.
In Robb's royal tent, a post-battle council was being held.
"Your Grace, everything has gone too smoothly along the way. I worry that some scheme of Tywin's lies behind this."
Cautious Crey immediately voiced his thoughts.
"Ha ha. Lord Crey is far too careful. The traitors in these castles all confessed the same thing: the Lannister army has long since returned to King's Landing.
"Tywin's current response matches exactly what we predicted when we drew up the tactical plan. It seems the Redwyne fleet and Iron Fleet have put enough pressure on Blackwater Bay.
"And even if those thirty thousand Lannister soldiers have some scheme, with our victorious army of a hundred thousand, we can crush them through absolute numbers.
"So I suggest we reach King's Landing as quickly as possible and take the Iron Throne directly."
Hearing Crey, the always smiling Lord Mace was the first to stand and refute him.
In these recent battles, Lord Mace's vanguard had won victory after victory. With the Reach falling back into his hands, he was full of ambition and pride.
"No. Lord Crey is right. The Lannister army's behavior is too abnormal. The current situation is not the same as before."
Perhaps because he opposed Lord Mace, Lord Randyll immediately spoke after Mace finished.
"Not the same? The two fleets attack Blackwater Bay from the narrow sea. We take the rebel castles by land, then attack King's Landing.
"Come, Lord Randyll. Tell us what is different."
Lord Mace felt Lord Randyll was deliberately making trouble. His smile stiffened, and he retorted angrily.
"Time."
Lord Randyll spoke the difference he saw with heavy emphasis.
After saying this, he looked around and found that most nobles in the royal tent were staring at him, waiting for him to continue. So he spoke on.
"When the tactical plan was first made, Tywin lacked troops. Even if he forcefully conscripted new soldiers, they would only be there to fill numbers.
"So he faced a hard choice: abandon the Reach's defensive line.
"But after that, the refugee grey plague erupted, and His Grace slept inside the giant ice statue. More than a month has now passed.
"We are acting according to the old tactical plan, yet Tywin's response is still exactly the same. Does that mean he did nothing during this month and simply waited quietly in King's Landing for death?
"My lords, do you think Tywin is such a man?"
When Lord Randyll finished speaking, every noble in the royal tent fell silent.
The nobles of Westeros judged Tywin in many different ways, good and bad. But everyone knew he was not a man who would meekly wait to die.
Seeing that the nobles had been awakened by his words, Lord Randyll nodded and stated his final conclusion.
"So King's Landing is certainly a trap designed by Tywin."
"Lord Randyll, that King's Landing has a trap is still only your guess. I do not believe Tywin can produce a method to contend with a hundred thousand troops in one month.
"What? We have reached this point, and because someone says King's Landing may have a trap, you are afraid enough to return to Highgarden?
"Hmph. A flock of gelded men."
Among all the nobles in the tent, Oberyn was certainly the one who most wanted to enter King's Landing and destroy House Lannister. Seeing everyone fall silent, he could not help mocking them.
"Prince Oberyn, do not be anxious. I agree with Lord Randyll. King's Landing definitely has one of Tywin's traps."
Seeing Oberyn's insult make anger appear on the faces of most nobles in the tent, Robb spoke at the right moment.
"But I also agree with Lord Mace. We go straight to King's Landing and take the Iron Throne.
"Because before overwhelming power, schemes collapse."
Hearing Robb make such a commanding declaration, the nobles in the royal tent immediately began praising his courage, his kingly bearing, and so on.
"Today's council ends here. Tomorrow, we march for King's Landing."
After Robb gave his final decision, the nobles in the royal tent left in groups of two and three, discussing among themselves.
Garlan and Loras left the tent together. Garlan spoke on and on by himself, while Loras listened quietly.
"Heh, His Grace's words just now were so imposing. Why can I never think of such things?
"By the way, Loras, have you heard the wolf howls every night recently?"
"Mm."
Hearing his brother's question, Loras answered lightly.
"Do not be so perfunctory. Hiss, I feel those howls carry many emotions, almost like a man shouting.
"And His Grace's ice direwolf has grown much taller since we left Highgarden. I heard Crey brought many prisoner soldiers for it to eat..."
"Stop."
Hearing Garlan's last words, Loras immediately cut him off. He quickly looked left and right, then lowered his voice.
"Garlan, I advise you to close your mouth. Some matters are not for us to discuss."
"Hm. I understand."
Early the next morning, the army, buoyed by repeated victories, marched along the Roseroad toward King's Landing.
When they entered the dense, vast kingswood, Robb sent Wyl and the other Wolfguard out ahead.
Although he believed his side had absolute strength, he would never be careless where caution was required.
Sure enough, the Wolfguard found things in the kingswood from time to time: strange-looking men who resembled northern mountain clansmen, Lannister spies, and even bandits hiding in the forest.
Under the sharp smell and sight of the bloodkin ice direwolves, however, they posed no threat at all. Robb's army advanced smoothly under the Wolfguard's scouting.
It took nearly two days for the army to leave that unusually broad, dense forest.
After leaving the kingswood, the road ahead was easier to march, because from here on, the Roseroad overlapped with the stretch of the kingsroad leading to Storm's End. The road was unusually flat and wide.
Anyone familiar with this road knew that at walking speed, King's Landing was only half a day away.
In truth, Robb's army was already almost at the gates.
But half an hour after Robb's army left the exit of the kingswood, a force of more than ten thousand men came from the direction of Storm's End.
They pushed various siege engines. Within their columns were also many transport wagons.
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