Riverrun, council chamber.
The air was heavy, like the moment before a storm.
Not long ago, a raven had arrived bearing three pieces of news that struck the Northern commanders like thunderbolts, shattering their composure.
First, the North was under attack from three Ironborn armies. Galon Glover had already defeated one of them and was currently defending Winterfell.
Second, Stannis and Renly Baratheon had both declared themselves kings, and war between them seemed inevitable.
Third, Eddard Stark had been executed by King Joffrey before the Great Sept of Baelor in King's Landing.
At first, when they heard that Galon had already repelled one of the Ironborn forces, the Northern lords breathed a small sigh of relief.
But the next two pieces of news instantly ignited their fury.
"Kill the Kingslayer!"
Greatjon Umber was the first to roar. His massive hand slammed onto the table so hard that the goblets rattled violently.
"Use Jaime Lannister's blood to honor Lord Stark!"
Rickard Karstark's eyes were red with rage, his voice filled with grief for his slain sons.
"Lord Robb, we should march straight to Harrenhal, join forces with Bolton, and then attack King's Landing!"
"Flatten the Red Keep!"
"Make House Lannister pay for their crimes!"
The hall erupted with angry voices. The fire of vengeance seemed ready to tear the roof from the chamber.
Even the Riverlords who had just returned to Riverrun after being defeated by Jaime shouted that the Kingslayer must be executed.
Edmure Tully sat uneasily at the high seat, watching the Northern and Riverland lords argue fiercely.
His head throbbed with frustration.
He could not see a clear path forward, nor could he control the furious assembly. In the end, he could only glance awkwardly toward his nephew.
Young Robb sat across from him, pale-faced and gripping his fists tightly.
The image of his father's brutal death and the news of the North under invasion collided in his mind, leaving him almost breathless.
The weight of grief and responsibility pressed heavily upon him.
Robb instinctively sought comfort from his mother, but Catelyn instead urged that Jaime be kept alive and exchanged for her daughters and sons.
Even now, Robb and Catelyn still believed that Arya and Rickon were being held in King's Landing along with Eddard.
But Catelyn's proposal only made the arguments in the hall grow louder.
Nearly everyone opposed it.
Jaime had killed too many of their people. How could they simply release him for two Stark children?
Catelyn argued fiercely, trying to persuade them by invoking feudal duty and sworn oaths.
But her words had little effect.
Before long, the debate shifted to another matter entirely: which king they should follow.
Amid the cries for vengeance and war, a louder voice suddenly rose above the rest.
"My lords!"
Greatjon leapt to his feet and shouted.
"The Lannisters murdered Lord Stark. There is no justice in them!"
"And Renly and Stannis both declare themselves kings while the North burns. What justice is there in them?"
"Men like that expect us to kneel?"
"I have no problem kneeling... but I will kneel only to this king!"
His voice thundered through the chamber.
Drawing his sword, he placed it at Robb's feet.
"King in the North!"
The chamber fell silent.
Robb's heart trembled as he stared at Greatjon. Before he could respond, another voice joined in.
Rickard stepped forward, grief and anger etched across his face.
"If that is the choice, then I would rather make peace with the south. Let them keep their Red Keep and their Iron Throne. We will have our own king."
He drew his sword, knelt beside Greatjon, and declared loudly:
"King in the North!"
At that moment, Robb remembered his private discussion with Galon back in Winterfell about supporting Gendry Baratheon, the legitimized bastard of King Robert.
"No... I cannot."
"Gendry, the king's legitimized son, was fostered by my father. We should support him for the Iron Throne."
"Gendry?"
Lord Bracken of the Riverlands scoffed with obvious disdain.
"Who even knows where he is now? He might already be dead at the hands of the Lannisters."
Even more surprising, Lord Blackwood agreed.
"That's right. The legitimized bastard is missing. We don't have time to search for him."
"Besides, neither Stannis nor Renly cares about these supposed heirs. They will never sit on the Iron Throne."
Their words shook Robb's thoughts.
Yes, Gendry had disappeared without a trace. Perhaps he had already been killed like the other royal bastards in King's Landing.
At that moment, Maege Mormont rose to her feet, her broad frame towering over many in the chamber.
"The North does not know any Gendry," she said firmly. "We know only Stark."
She placed her spiked mace beside the two swords and knelt, shouting:
"King in the North!"
One by one, the Riverlords followed suit.
Swords were drawn. Knees bent.
They shouted an ancient title unheard for three hundred years.
"King in the North!"
"King in the North!"
"King in the North!"
Robb rose to his feet, his blood surging through his veins.
Conflicting emotions churned within him. Grief and ambition burned together in his chest.
"If this is the will of the North and the Riverlands...If this is the only path to avenge my father and restore justice..."
"Then I, Robb Stark, accept!"
He drew his sword and raised it high.
"In the name of the gods, I swear that I will lead you to crush the Westerlands, avenge our wrongs, and reclaim our honor!"
The chamber erupted with thunderous cheers.
Meanwhile, in King's Landing, the atmosphere inside the Red Keep's small council chamber was far more oppressive.
Tywin sat in the Hand's seat with a splitting headache.
Ever since arriving in King's Landing and learning that Joffrey and Cersei had executed Eddard Stark, he had felt nothing but dread.
With Eddard dead, reconciliation between the Westerlands and the North was impossible.
The prisoner exchange plan had collapsed completely.
Tywin's only hope now was to capture Arya Stark and Gendry. If he could seize them, the Lannisters might still gain leverage in negotiations.
"How goes the search?"
Tywin's voice carried restrained anger as he looked around the council chamber.
Master of Whisperers Varys wore his usual expression of concern.
"My dear acting Hand, we have indeed found some traces," he said softly. "But unfortunately, we always seem to arrive a step too late."
"The girl is like a little wildcat. Impossible to catch."
"And the blacksmith boy... appears to have someone secretly helping him."
"Secretly helping him?"
Petyr chuckled softly, his tone dripping with mockery.
"To hide someone in King's Landing without any of us noticing... surely that requires a certain well-informed friend."
"Lord Varys, perhaps your little birds flew in the wrong direction this time? Or perhaps they simply chose to close their eyes?"
Varys looked deeply wounded by the accusation.
"Lord Baelish, such words break my heart. My loyalty belongs entirely to the Iron Throne."
"Though I must say, maintaining such a vast information network must be quite expensive. Especially when the crown's treasury is so strained."
With a few subtle words, he shifted suspicion toward Littlefinger's finances.
The two men continued trading veiled attacks.
Their quiet duel of words made Tywin's temper flare, yet he still needed both of them.
"Enough!" Tywin slammed the table, cutting them off. "I want results, not riddles."
"Lord Varys, what is the last lead you have?"
Varys hesitated before speaking again.
"According to some uncertain information... they may have joined a group of recruits heading for the Wall."
"You know how it is with the Night's Watch. They accept all sorts."
The Night's Watch.
Tywin's eyes suddenly sharpened.
He instantly recalled the Night's Watch recruits he had encountered near the Gods Eye.
"I think... I know where they are hiding."
He immediately summoned guards and issued orders as acting Hand of the King.
"Send men to search every village near the Gods Eye. Turn over every stone if you must. Find them."
At Tywin's command, several groups of Lannister soldiers and Gold Cloaks rode out of King's Landing toward the Gods Eye.
Meanwhile, Yoren of the Night's Watch continued wandering near the lake, worrying about how to safely pass Harrenhal, completely unaware that his trail had been exposed.
As for Galon in the North, he knew nothing of the turning point about to occur in Arya's fate.
His eyes were fixed only on the Ironborn marching into the Bullhorn Mountains.
The great battle of the North was about to begin.
__________
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