Hail to the Stag Kings

Chapter 11: Finding the Lost Trout

—At Riverrun—

Daemon and Petyr rushed back to Riverrun under a barrage of shouting, gunfire, and mortar fire. It seemed the fighting had intensified while they were away defending Wayfarer's Rest—the second Lannister host had arrived from Harrenhal in droves and began their assault on House Tully's ancestral castle. Dozens of rebels and defectors were getting picked off as the rest scrambled to either return fire or hide under whatever cover they came across.

Once the gates behind them had closed, the duo ran up the steps and returned to the command post with General Samson aiming down his sights to snipe squads of Lannister infantry and engineers. Even in his old, crippled state, the Master of War and commander of the rebel armies remained a highly skilled sharpshooter.

"General!" Petyr shouted.

Samson noticed their arrival. "You both came back in one piece. That tells us Wayfarer's Rest is secured then. Good. We just— Wait, what in Seven hells happened to you? Why is he so pale?" he referred to dry blood from Daemon's nose.

Petyr opened his mouth to say something, but the Prince shot him a glare. Both young men continued staring each other down before Daemon turned to Samson.

"Never mind that now," he said firmly. "How bad did the situation become after we left, General?"

He's now had his first taste of actual combat, is sounding more confident than he was before, and carries himself into battle with a renewed sense of vigor like a real soldier. Good. That means he's learning fast. This keeps up and the Prince might hold his own against seasoned veterans. You taught him well, Jaerys, Samson psychoanalyzed him. "I won't lie to you, Your Highness. Now that Ser Loreon's army has arrived in force, our scouts are reporting heavy casualties on the frontlines. 400 dead in the first wave, 700 the second. We tried setting up advance positions east along the Tumblestone River, to flank the enemy before they had time to set up their artillery. However—"

"It seemed irrelevant."

"Exactly. The sheer number of lions appears to make them immune to that sort of tactic. Our troops found that out the hard way. If this keeps up, we'll all be wiped out."

"Your scouts said you have something important to tell us?"

Colonel Vargo shot more hostile forces before turning around. "Right now, the Riverlands are in chaos—with so many dead, wounded, missing, or captured." He glanced at his left. "Commander."

"Ser!" a nearby soldier saluted. His armor appeared steel plate over chainmail with the tabard of his family's house covering the front of his breastplate; a silver eagle on a bluish-violet field.

"Give them the rundown."

"Commander Broden Mallister, son and heir to my father Lord Brynden Mallister of Seagard. I led the 4th Eagle Brigade in the Royal Army before defecting to the rebels. General Samson and Colonel Vargo both reiterated that if we lose Riverrun, we lose all the Riverlands. Regardless of our situation, it is an honor to make your acquaintance, Your Highness."

Daemon nodded. "Pleasure is all mine, Commander. What have you got?" he asked.

"After a rather protracted study in the castle libraries, Maester Lawsen made a remarkable discovery. We found the exact person we need to lead the Riverlands out of this mess. Your Highness, it is my duty to report that the next Lord Paramount of the Trident is General Willem Tully."

Samson pinched his nose. "Willem Tully. That's a name I grow tired of hearing," he grimaced.

Broden appeared confused, as did Daemon and Petyr. If the mere mention of this man was enough to cause Samson a great deal of annoyance, there had to be some sort of history between the two.