Cyberdyne of the Night's Watch

Chapter 10

Jon kept his eyes on the water as Cyberdyne sank lower and lower until not even a shadow was still visible underneath the rushing waves. The Green Fork was murkier and muddier than any of the streams Jon had seen up in the North.

He returned to camp alone to find the Northmen donning their armor. Squires from every house ran to and fro carrying bits of armor, saddles, weapons, and whatever else the men would need for the charge. Robb, who had not taken a squire yet, stood in his pavilion with his arms spread wide while Lady Catelyn help him put on his breastplate.

"Here, let me," Jon offered.

Lady Catelyn scowled at him. Surely some part of her knew that Jon had far more experience with armor, both from having trained under Ned as well as his time in the Watch. And she also surely knew that a mistake in putting on the armor could have dire consequences in battle. "I am perfectly capable of helping my son dress," she answered with a formal, distant tone.

"Mother..." Robb sighed. He'd been running interference between the two of them since he was old enough to understand why it was necessary. "The rest of my men are all preparing for the charge, so I have no messengers to send. Can you go 'round to all of the camps and find out which houses are ready?"

She lingered for a moment, then shot Jon a dirty look from the corner of her eye. "Very well," she said before disappearing through the tent flaps.

"Sorry about that," Robb said as soon as he was sure she'd gone.

"It's nothing," Jon answered stiffly. No different from his years at Winterfell. He cinched the leather belt on the back of Robb's armor tight, so hard that Robb flinched a little. "You're almost done here." He finished making a few adjustments, then retrieved Robb's helmet from the armor rack. "Here you are, Young Wolf. You've come a long way from playing with wooden soldiers in the godswood, eh?"

Robb clapped an arm on Jon's shoulder. "We both have."

"About that," Jon said. Now was as good a time as ever to tell Robb that he couldn't fight alongside him for this war. "I'm still a sworn brother of the Night's Watch, Robb. You know that. I can't take part in the wars of the seven kingdoms."

Robb donned the helmet. "Of course," he said, but in a way that made it clear that he didn't exactly care. Robb had been opposed to Jon taking the Black in the first place, and didn't see any reason why his half-brother had to spend the rest of his life freezing up at the Wall when he'd be so useful in this war. "So don't fight. You can ride with us but never draw your sword. Isn't that what the vows say? That you'll win no glory? So be it. The Lord Commander sent you south to King's Landing, and that's where we're going. And you'll be there when we free Father."

Jon bowed his head as he tried to come up with a response. Robb had always been the better arguer, though Theon's tongue was quickest.

Robb spared him. "Just think about it," he said. "Come on, we've got to get going. Your man Cyberdyne said it would only take him twenty minutes."

They headed outside, where two horses bedecked in Stark colors were saddled and waiting. Robb and Jon mounted and rode out into the main thoroughfare of the camp. The lords of the other houses and the rest of their knights and cavalrymen waited with lances at the ready. Down the way, Robb could see a group of guards standing nervously atop the gate leading into the Twins. They knew something was up, but they were still so confident in their fortifications that they hadn't yet raised the alarm. Exactly as Robb had predicted.

There was a distant splash from the river, and Jon thought he caught a glimpse of a man disappearing under the mossy waters near the gatehouse. Then an explosion shook the ground so hard that Jon could feel it even from horseback. The gatehouse, and the Frey soldiers on top, were consumed in an orange fireball and a billowing cloud of acrid black smoke. Broken chunks of stone rained down on the left-hand side of the river, and the tower began to lean over at a dangerous angle. Horses up and down the line reared up and neighed in panic, but the Northerners were able to quickly reassert control.

Amidst all the confusion, Cyberdyne heaved himself out of the river soaking wet but completely unharmed. He stood near the bank and awaited orders from Jon.

It took a moment, but bells began to ring out from the keep on the southern end of the Twins bridge. Someone had the sense to realize that perhaps they should muster their soldiers, thought it was far too late now. "Make ready!" Robb called. He whipped his sword out of his scabbard and held it aloft in the morning sun. Then he thrust it toward the Twins and spurred his horse forward. The Northern army galloped straight through the remains of the fortifications and down to the other end of the Bridge, bursting into the Keep before anyone even thought to bar the door.

Jon followed Robb as they rode their horses into the castle and found Lord Frey, clad only in a dressing gown, standing in the courtyard with a handful of half-armored men still rubbing the sleep from their eyes.

"Lord Frey," Robb greeted him. "We ride to the aid of your liege lord, Hoster Tully of Riverrun. Surely you are planning to accompany us. Are you ready now, or do you and your men need a moment to gather?"

Lord Frey glared, refusing to answer. His men all dropped their weapons immediately and raised their hands in surrender.

"I think the Late Lord Frey needs another minute," Lord Bolton taunted in that icy voice of his.

Lord Frey's lips were curled into a sneer, eyes flitting between each of Robb's bannermen like a caged animal. His hand strayed over the hilt of the sword that was strapped around his waist over his nightgown. For a moment, Jon thought that the 80-something-year-old man would choose to fight the combined Northern host all by himself rather than face such humiliation. But then Lord Frey relaxed and his eyes fell to the ground. "I'll join you in a moment, Lord Stark," he grumbled.