Chapter 267 253: King in the North vs Targaryen 2

The night was deep.

In a woodland area by the water somewhere in The Riverlands, Robb and his 3,300 Northern cavalrymen lay in silent ambush.

All was quiet, save for suppressed breathing and the occasional soft clink of armor.

Not far away were the ruins of an abandoned village, where several skeletons of unknown Soldiers, long since dried, still hung from charred wooden frames, swaying gently in the wind.

Desolation and deathly silence provided the perfect cover for their tracks.

The scouts sent out returned, whispering their reports to Robb.

There were no signs of large-scale Targaryen military activity nearby, only scattered patrols still far in the distance.

Robb listened, but his gaze seemed already fixed on the further south.

Wendell Manderly should be marching with great fanfare along the River Road toward Harrenhal at this very moment, according to the plan.

That force of 2,500 men was the flame to attract the moths, the kindling destined to endure the dragon's first breath of fire.

The true killing blow, however, had already used the cover of night to seep silently into various parts of The Riverlands like diverted river water.

Roose Bolton's 9,000 men lunged toward Medden Town, while Greatjon Umber's 6,000 elites slipped into the dense forests and hills of Acorn Vale.

Since Wyman Manderly, Lord Lamprey, was too obese, his eldest son Wylis fought in his stead, leading their 9,000 troops in a flanking maneuver to the east of the Gods Eye.

Four armies, like four daggers sharpened in the dark, waited only for the first light of dawn to tear through the night and strike simultaneously at the seemingly stable Targaryen-occupied territories.

One in the light, four in the shadows, attacking all at once.

Robb was betting that Aegon Targaryen's forces were limited and that there was only one dragon.

Whether the opponent split their forces to put out fires, falling into the embarrassment of rushing everywhere, or gathered their main force to try and defeat them one by one, they would be dragged into the complex water networks and long supply lines of The Riverlands.

He wanted to cut off Aegon's supply routes, burn his warehouses, and let the Targaryen army weaken in hunger and fatigue. Ultimately, he would turn that dragon-riding Targaryen into a lonely man who possessed a dragon but had no army left to use.

He looked toward Harrenhal; a faint white light had appeared on the horizon, slowly but surely eroding the night.

The long night was about to pass, and an even longer, bloodier day was about to begin.

Robb's hand slowly pressed onto the hilt of Ice at his waist. The cold sensation spread through his fingertips, but it made his blood run slightly hot.

The direwolf of the North had bared its fangs.

"Qiang—"

The clear ring of the sword pierced the final silence before dawn.

Grey Wind threw back his head and let out a long howl, like a horn signaling the attack.

"The North!" Robb vaulted onto his horse and pointed his sword forward, his voice exploding through the woodland.

"Advance!"

The 3,300 cavalrymen, like a flood bursting a dam, charged out of the woods where they had been hiding. Iron hooves crushed the wild grass and the silence, sweeping toward their predetermined destination.

...

Harrenhal, Hall of a Hundred Hearths.

Aegon did not sit high on the main seat; instead, he stood with a group of generals and officers around the center of the hall.

There lay a massive strategic sand table of The Riverlands, said to be a relic left behind when Tywin Lannister occupied the castle, now filled with more precise markings.

Aegon was in full battle gear, his pitch-black valyrian steel armor glinting coldly under the light of surrounding torches and candelabras, complementing the eerie atmosphere of the Hall of a Hundred Hearths.

At his side were Laswell Peake, commander of the Golden Company, Henry, leader of the Bloodsworn, and a group of core officers who had followed him from across the Narrow Sea, all clad in armor with solemn expressions.

Aegon's finger, clad in a black gauntlet, pointed at the clearly marked River Road on the sand table connecting Riverrun and Harrenhal.

There, a direwolf banner representing the Northern army was planted.

"Blatant? With great fanfare?" A faint curve touched the corner of Aegon's mouth, his purple eyes reflecting the cold light of the candles.

An intelligence officer bowed and said, "Yes, Your Highness."

"Scouts report that this enemy force is flying the banners of all the Northern lords. Large siege engines can be seen in their ranks, they are moving slowly, and their target is clearly Harrenhal. Their arrogance... is quite blatant."

The generals exchanged looks, their meanings unclear.

"This little wolf pup's intentions are far too obvious." Aegon lifted his finger from the River Road and tapped lightly on the edge of the sand table.

"Does he think I'm ignorant of warfare, or does he believe that in all of Westeros, only he, Robb Stark, knows how to fight?"

His gaze swept over the black areas on the sand table representing his occupied territory, as well as the crisscrossing rivers, dense villages, and castle markers.

"A feint," Aegon said slowly, his tone certain. "This force out in the open is nothing but bait."

"The true main force of the North is likely already lying in wait elsewhere, just waiting for us to be drawn in by the bait and show a weakness. Then they will launch an attack from where we least expect, striking our logistics, harassing our occupied zones, and shaking our foundation."

"Your Highness is wise," Laswell Peake said gravely. "Then where are they most likely to attack? Most of our grain and fodder are being transferred through Maidenpool, and the defenses in the newly occupied areas east of the Gods Eye are relatively thin."

Aegon's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

This was indeed an unavoidable drawback of ancient warfare.

The territory was vast, information transfer was slow, and if an army intended to hide, finding them accurately in a short time was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

Unless he rode Ghidorah to conduct a carpet search from the sky.

But he did not intend to do that for now, at least not for a purposeless search.

"The supply lines to Maidenpool and the newly occupied areas east of the Gods Eye," Aegon's finger traced two circles on the corresponding locations on the sand table, "send more scouts and add more patrols. Heighten vigilance and expand the reconnaissance range; we're bound to find some clues."

He shifted his tone, his finger leaving those areas likely to be attacked and pointing heavily at another location on the sand table... Riverrun.

"But our target is here."

The generals' gazes sharpened.

"Since Stark wants to be a wild wolf watching from the shadows, waiting for a chance to bite," Aegon's voice was calm and steady, but carried an unquestionable resolve, "then we will simply wipe out his wolf's den in The Riverlands."

"We will uproot his strongholds, his path of retreat, and his uncle's home. Let this wild wolf become a homeless stray that can only starve to death on the barrens."

He looked up, his gaze falling on the general standing by.

"Henry."

"Present, Your Highness!" Henry, leader of the Bloodsworn, stepped forward.

"Take the Bloodsworn and swat that noisy fly on the River Road for me," Aegon ordered, his tone as casual as if he were assigning a minor chore. "Be quick about it; don't let it ruin the mood."

"By your command!" Henry struck his chest heavily.

"Laswell."

"Your Highness." The Golden Company commander bowed.

"Lead the main force of the Golden Company. Ignore the scattered harassment from other directions, and don't worry about whether that bait lives or dies."

Aegon's finger traced a line on the sand table from Harrenhal toward Riverrun.

"Follow the Red Fork and strike directly at Riverrun with the utmost speed."

"I want to see the Targaryen banner flying from the towers of Riverrun within three days."

A sharp light flashed in Laswell's eyes. Without any questioning, he replied deeply, "Understood. At any cost, we take Riverrun."

Aegon nodded slightly, his gaze returning to the sand table as if admiring a chess game about to begin.

"I want to see whether this King in the North chooses to return to save his wolf's den or continues to fixate on our supply lines."

There was a hint of cold mockery in his voice: "He doesn't want a decisive battle? Then we'll force him into one."

"Can't find him? Then don't look. Attack what he must save, and see if he comes out."

"Your Highness," a logistics officer stepped forward half a pace with a worried look, "if our main force strikes Riverrun directly, our supply lines will inevitably be stretched thin and require troops for protection. If that Stark truly splits his forces to harass the supply lines, I fear..."

Aegon raised a hand, cutting him off.

"I have my own arrangements for logistics and supply lines." His tone was flat but carried an absolute confidence, as if stating a fact that needed no proof. "You only need to focus on taking Riverrun and crushing all resistance along the way."

"Have no concerns about anything else."

The officer was stunned for a moment. Looking at Aegon's calm face, he swallowed the rest of his words and lowered his head. "Yes, Your Highness!"

Aegon took one last look at the sand table.

On it, the wolf banner representing the Northern bait was foolishly advancing toward Harrenhal, while the black dragon banner representing the main force of the Golden Company had been personally moved by him and firmly planted on the route to Riverrun.

As for the wolf pack that might be lurking in the shadows, he did not use a marker to indicate them for the time being.

Can't find them? It doesn't matter.

I'll tear down your den and see where else you can hide.

He turned, his dark red cloak brushing across the cold floor.

"Everyone, prepare. Act according to plan."

"Yes!"

Dear Reader,

A special 60% discount offer available Don't miss this opportunity to enjoy your favorite stories at a greatly reduced price.

The offer is available for a limited time only — grab it before it ends!

Ãdvåñçé çhàptêr àvàilàble óñ pàtreøn luffy1898