"My father has vanished."
About a week later, Edwyn Frey came to Tyrion.
"He should've been back at The Twins a week ago, but there's been no word."
"Did Ser Ryman run into trouble on the road?" Tyrion feigned puzzlement. "What happened?"
"Walder Rivers says bandits likely seized him at Fairmarket, the same way they took Petyr at Harroway."
"Dondarrion?"
"Either him, or Thoros, or that Lady Stoneheart."
Ser Ryman was a fool, a coward, and a drunk; no one would miss him, least of all the Freys. Judging from the look in Edwyn's dry eyes, even Ser Ryman's eldest son seemed eager for his father to die.
Still, the Brotherhood Without Banners had grown bold, hanging Lord Walder's heir less than a day's ride from The Twins.
"How many men did Ryman have with him?" Tyrion asked.
"Three knights, around a dozen soldiers," Rivers said. "The bandits seemed to know exactly when he'd be returning to The Twins and how small his escort was."
Edwyn pressed his lips thin.
"I'd wager my brother arranged it. After they hanged Petyr and Merrett, he let them go on purpose. They're working together. Now that Father's dead, I'm the only one standing between Black Walder and The Twins."
"You have no proof," Walder Rivers said.
"I don't need proof. I know my brother."
"Your brother is in Seagard," Rivers insisted. "How could he possibly know when Ser Ryman would return to The Twins?"
"A traitor," Edwyn said bitterly. "No doubt he planted a spy in my camp."
And you planted one in Seagard. Tyrion knew well how deep the hostility ran between Edwyn and Black Walder, but he was far more interested in which one would end up inheriting their grandfather's seat.
"Forgive the interruption to your mourning," he said dryly. "I want to remind you that I expect Lord Walder Frey to surrender all hostages taken at the Red Wedding."
Ser Walder's brow furrowed.
"Those hostages are valuable, my lord."
"I don't ask for things without value."
Frey and Rivers traded a look.
"My grandfather demands compensation for those prisoners," Rivers said.
Good. With Riverrun dangling in front of Edwyn, Walder Rivers now wanted his own carrot.
"My uncle Gerion has a lovely bastard daughter," Tyrion said. "Joy Hill. I assure you, she's as sweet-faced as my sister was as a girl."
"I remember hearing about that." Walder Rivers' eyes brightened, turning the usually dour, coarse man into something almost like a Lannister golden boy. "How much dowry?"
Pretend it's flowers for your grave, Tyrion thought.
"We can sort out the details later. Do I look like I'm short on coin?" he said with a sneer. "She's my most beloved uncle's daughter. The gold dust that slips through my fingers would be enough to rebuild Oldstones for you."
Another carrot added.
The two men shared another look. Edwyn nodded.
"The prisoners at The Twins won't be a problem. But the Mallister father and son in Seagard are in Black Walder's hands. I doubt he'll listen to you."
He wants to use me? Tyrion laughed inwardly.
"I'll give him time to come to his senses. If he remains stubborn, I'll crush him," Tyrion said. "I'll be away for half a month—no more than that, though it may be a few weeks. For the defense of Riverrun, you may consult Daven."
Frey and Rivers nodded.
Last night, horsemen from Harrenhal delivered a letter to Tyrion, sent by Aunt Genna from King's Landing. Judging by the timing, she must have dispatched it the moment she arrived.
The letter was brief, its message distilled into one line: "Tywin gravely ill. Return at once."
"Along the River Road and the Kingsroad, it's about two hundred leagues from Riverrun to King's Landing. Even at a fast pace, it takes a week. If my father is sick—no, gravely sick, or else he wouldn't have named Cersei regent—then a week on the road is well worth it," Tyrion told Daven in his tent.
"You must stay at Riverrun. Edmure Tully can remain with you and eat off House Frey's supplies for half a month."
"We'll be fat as pigs," Daven said with a grin. "Don't worry, the trout won't run."
"He has no need to run. I'll keep him alive," Tyrion said. "Just make sure no one snatches him."
Compared to the Tully, Tyrion was far more worried about others.
"Brienne, Greatjon, and the two Stark girls can't stay at the camp in Riverrun." He thought it through aloud, planning to leave them at Darry Castle on the way back.
"Yes, take your wife and your sister-in-law with you," Daven said. "It's not proper for them to remain in camp."
"Bronn needs to return to King's Landing with me to settle the matter at Stokeworth."
"That's a shame," Daven sighed. "He's an outstanding horseman and scout. Every task you give him, he completes beautifully."
"That's exactly why I'm taking him," Tyrion said. "One more thing: from here, is Golden Tooth closer than Harrenhal or Darry?"
"That's right. Golden Tooth is only about thirty leagues."
"I need you to write a letter to your future father-in-law, Lord Manderly of White Harbor," Tyrion said, rubbing his chin in thought. "Have him pressure Roose Bolton to demand grain and soldiers from the Freys."
"Ah, luring the tiger from the mountain," Daven nodded. "But will that break the Freys? I doubt the Riverlords will help us."
"They're no tigers, and we don't need the Riverlords. The scales are tilting our way," Tyrion said. "The war in the Riverlands is a war over grain. Once I return from King's Landing, we can begin." He stepped to the table and unrolled the map.
"Riverrun is a dead end. The Freys won't make progress here. They're only burning through men and supplies." Tyrion traced a path on the map, slowly moving upward. "Black Walder is in Seagard, enjoying the authority of a castellan. Neither of them will lift a finger to help the other."
"A struggle between two heirs," Daven said with a nod. "Good thing Jaime's a Kingsguard."
"He's my good old brother. No Frey can compare," Tyrion said with a short laugh. "When I get back from King's Landing, I'll have Bronn lead the clan warriors north along the Kingsroad to harass the route from Twins to Moat Cailin. Let the soldiers through, but seize their supplies."
"If it's the mountain clans, no one will trace it to us," Daven said, seeing the plan clearly now. "Then we deal with Edwyn and Black Walder south of Twins, while Bronn and the mountain clans take the north. Then we close the net."
"Exactly. And this net isn't for trout. It's for weasels."
...
If you'd like to support my work and unlock advanced chapters, you can follow me on P@treon.
[Upto 50 chapters ahead for now]
[email protected]/BlurryDream