Redfork Menace

The Worst

The march to Riverrun was muddy. Because of it they were slow, often getting stuck in the thick sludge. Martyn was not surprised it was a disaster. Everything in his life was a disaster now. Royce grew more radicalized against their sister by the hour and had spent all of his time before the trial trying to poison their brothers against her. Martyn had worked tirelessly behind them on a campaign to champion their sisters' better points. The atmosphere in Stone Hedge as a result was unbearable and for once Martyn was glad to be on guard duty. It gave him a chance to escape the muttering and stolen glances cast his way.
He rode in the front guard, bow on his back. His eyes constantly scan the way ahead of them. He'd already ridden ahead and confirmed the area clear. It would be best if they didn't encounter the Blackwoods before Riverrun. It would become a fight most assuredly and Martyn wasn't eager to die in the mud. Luckily though, they would not have to camp outside another night. Soon they would arrive at Riverrun and enjoy a good night's sleep before attending the trial. That was what he told himself anyway.
Thinking of the trial made him want to pitch himself into the Red Fork. He knew it would be terrible no matter the outcome. He thought of the masses of lords and ladies that would witness the trial. It would be so massively embarrassing he knew. That was likely Lord Elmo Tully's plan. They had worn out their goodwill and now they would suffer publicly for it. He wondered what Shanda was feeling right now. Was she wracked with guilt? Was she homesick? Were they treating her well? He wanted to write to her but there was no guarantee they would give her the letters. And undoubtedly they'd be read and censored. He hadn't been away from his sister this long maybe ever.
At last he could see the walls of Riverrun rising in the distance and he sent thanks to the gods for a safe passage. The journey had been muddy and long but they'd made it in good time and without encountering any real danger. Besides a broken wheel or two the trip had been uneventful. It felt good to be on horseback if nothing else. That's where Martyn belonged, bow equipped and his eyes alight with the light of the horizon. If he were a commoner with no responsibilities he'd just ride always with the wind at his back. He'd live somewhere off in the mountains. Where he could swim in a stream and watch the moon rise.
Instead he pulled his horse up short and dismounted. Preparing to enter the castle, he glanced around taking in the sights. It seemed Lord Tully had decided to keep the land around the castle flooded, and the levies open forcing them all to take boats across into the castle. It made the trip more inconvenient and told Martyn they didn't want anymore coming or going lightly. He desperately wished to see his sister so he would suffer through whatever to get there.
***
Shanda had insisted on riding her own horse to Riverrun and had promptly refused the litter suggested. She couldn't stomach the thought of sitting in there with the muggy air pressing in on her. It also gave her something to do with her hands that wasn't ripping all the skin off of her fingers. She was equally excited and sick with dread at the thought of seeing her family. She couldn't wait to see Martyn. But she was concerned about the outcome of the trial and afraid her brother would figure out she'd been passionately kissing the enemy.
The wretched agonizing man who had put her in this situation rode beside her. He looked rather dashing on his horse so she had not looked at him the entire trip. He would occasionally point out birds to her or he would tell her about the various riverland plants as they passed by. She said nothing but was glad to have some form of entertainment. But it didn't help her problem of ignoring him when he was so charming all the time. That and she could still feel his hands wrapped around her, the feel of his lips pressed against hers. It was rather distracting and counterproductive for fostering hatred. Which was what she was supposed to be feeling for the heir.
She thought of him sneaking into her tent to kiss her goodnight. The way his hands had held her so softly. How could hands so bloody be so gentle? He was a brute there was no doubt about that. Everything about him was inappropriate, he shouldn't have thrown her to the ground once he figured out she was a lady on their first encounter. Any respectable man would've just let her go. But he was not a respectable man and no Blackwoods ever really were. They were notorious raiders, wife stealers, a shroud of death over the riverlands. And yet he was kind and witty. He was thoughtful and no one could argue he didn't work towards his goals vigorously.
It made her insides roll in discomfort. How was she supposed to reconcile herself to the two sides? Not that it mattered where her head was on it. It would be on the Lord in Riverrun to sort it out for her. That was equally as conflicting to her. On one hand, someone else would do it. But on the other hand that lord was likely Elmo Tully and he was an odd fellow who was very much sick of the squabbling river lords.
Shanda groaned when she saw the moat filled in on all sides surrounding the castle. That horrible devious man. She thought of the lord Tully. He meant for them all to have to ask permission to leave the place. It did not bode well in her mind then to the outcome the lord was thinking of. It said, 'you will listen because you cannot leave'. And she was really growing tired of being held hostage.
***
To everyone's displeasure the two houses seemed to arrive one after the other. The Blackwoods met the waiting Brackens in the great hall. Shanda saw no lord waiting there to direct them and she found that most odd. The servant that led them in had disappeared just as quickly as she came. She scanned the crowd of her family looking to spot her brother. When she did, she cried out without thinking.
Martyn heard her, his head whipping around to look at her. She felt tears come unbidden to her eyes seeing him. He looked defeated in a bad way and she began to worry about what her father was plotting. Her eyes darted to her father and she found his face was stone. No expression played across it as he stared blankly at nothing.
Martyn then moved to cross the room to her. Her family watched him go doing nothing. But a dozen Blackwood men unsheathed their swords at his approach. Benjicot called out to them instead.