A Shadow and a Wolf

Tyrion XVIII

All the commanders were there. Tyrion was presiding the war council at the head of the table. Bronn was at his left, a cup of wine before him. Tyrion had one before him as well, half-emptied. Wine helped him to think clearly, no matter what Sansa said. Perhaps it was strange to have a sellsword recently converted into a landed knight sitting right next to him, but as strange as it seemed, Tyrion trusted Bronn more than most of the people here, except Podrick. His squire was staying behind, silent as always, away from the lords that had gathered under the tent. At Tyrion's right sat Ser Daven Lannister, his cousin, the commander of the Lannister forces before Tyrion arrived. Daven had never been evil with Tyrion. In fact, Tyrion appreciated him quite a lot, even if they were never close. Daven was jovial with a talent to lighten the mood, but he was also competent and serious whenever the circumstances required it. If he held any grudge toward Tyrion for not sending him reinforcements when he asked for some or if he had any hatred towards Sansa because of his father's death, he didn't show it. Anyway, Daven had no love for the Freys, so in this tent, Tyrion could count on him as an ally. He wondered if Daven would still look so ready to follow him once he told him about his marriage. Ser Lyle Crakehall, the Strongbear, sat at Bronn's left and Ser Forley Prester on Daven's right. They represented the Westermen at this council. Farther at the table sat the representatives of House Frey, all sons or grandsons of Walder Frey. Tyrion wondered if all the army the Freys brought here came from the old man's seed. Lame Lothar and Black Walder Rivers sat on the left side of the table while Ser Ryman, the heir to the Twins, and his eldest son Edwyn sat on the right side. Ser Ryman was obviously drunk. Here sat the commander of the Frey army. No wonder they did poorly at the siege.

"Sers, I think you all know by now why I'm here. I have come with the king's command to put an end to this siege. This farce lasted long enough. The Blackfish kept you away from his walls for more than a year now. It's time for this to end. I expect you to follow my orders in every time and every circumstances, or else you would be disobeying the king's orders. Do you understand?"

Bronn was the first to react to Tyrion's speech. "I don't think this speech was for me. I had no part in the stupidities the men did here. I was at my keep with my wife and I would still be there her if these morons knew how to take a castle." Then Bronn took a sip of his wine.

"My men are at your disposal, Lord Tyrion," Daven said soberly.

"I am at your service, my lord," said Ser Forley as well.

"I am as well, Lord Tyrion. If you allow me, I would challenge the Blackfish to single combat. Mace or axe or longsword, makes no matter. Ser Brynden Tully deserves a noble death, and I'm ready to give it to him."

The Strongboar was quick on matters and started the council even before Tyrion wished it. "I will consider your suggestion, Ser Lyle. But first I would like to know the disposals House Frey. All House Frey."

Lame Lothar was the first to answer. "We will do as you wish, Lord Tyrion." His smile as he said it and bowed his head was the smile of a sycophant. At least he would pose no problem, but he wouldn't be very useful. Tyrion preferred useful men like Bronn to lickspittles like Lothar Frey.

Black Walder, the bastard, reluctantly agreed. "As my brother said." His voice's tone and his angry look told the opposite. He hadn't forgotten the slap he received from Sansa or Bronn's threats. His eyes lingered on the former sellsword who kept drinking as if nothing was going on.

Edwyn Frey was the last to speak. "I can give you my word, my lord, that Riverrun will fall before we realize it." Then we must need a lot of time to realize it.

Ser Ryman Frey didn't speak, lost in his cups, drinking his second cup of wine since Tyrion entered the tent. He didn't seem to know he was at a war council.