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"You little brat from Manderly, don't even think you can crush my ten thousand n with your five thousand. They will make sure you bleed every last drop of your blood."
Jai Lannister gripped the thick wooden bars with both hands, not caring that the splinters stabbed into his palms and left tiny bloody holes. The pain simply did not register in his mind.
The ten thousand n stationed at Riverrun were the final thread he clung to, the last bit of hope he had. It was because of them that he still held himself as a proud son of House Lannister, refusing to lower his head even now.
In his view, even if Clay had defeated the two thousand troops under his direct command, it was impossible that every single one of them had been lost here. Surely, soone must have escaped. As long as just one rider managed to bring word of this ambush back to their allies, his bannern would surely find a way to respond.
So long as they were not taken completely by surprise, as had happened this ti, and relying on the superior arms and armor of House Lannister, the three thousand stationed at the main camp north of the Tumblestone River, together with the reinforcents arriving from the southeast and southwest camps, would form a solid defense.
Ten thousand n entrenched within their camp would resemble a hedgehog bristling with spikes, leaving no gap for the direwolves of the North to sink their teeth into. Perhaps, when the northern army finally launched its assault, his forces might even deliver devastating losses and repay in full the blood debt left by the two thousand fallen riders in full.
Yet now, with just a single sentence from Clay, Jai Lannister felt as though he had plunged into an icy abyss.
That sa sentence repeated in his mind. Clay had no reason to lie to a prisoner. Could it really be true? Not a single man had made it out?
Jai did not dare to imagine what such a scene would look like. If no warning had reached them, the three thousand n at the Tumblestone River's northern camp were likely at this very mont still discussing how many days it would take to cut off the heads of those annoying Riverlands cavalryn.
Little did they know, the direwolf's fangs were already at their throats, rely waiting for the perfect mont to tear them apart and send their souls to the Seven.
"This… you did this on purpose. You chose this place to ambush us so you could completely cut off any chance of a ssage getting out."
Jai Lannister finally lost control. He shook the wooden cage violently, but his efforts were futile.
To his accusation, Clay nodded with an air of calm certainty.
"Of course. Otherwise, I would have destroyed your two thousand cavalry on the very first night after you left the Tumblestone River camp. Why would I go through all this effort to lure you here if that were not my intent?"
He looked at Jai Lannister, whose face now showed three parts fury, three parts disbelief, and the rest consud by fear. A cold, mocking smile tugged at the corners of Clay's mouth.
"Don't waste your thoughts. Tomorrow, I will lead my n to strike at your three camps around Riverrun, where no one is expecting us. Why don't you take a guess which one I'll attack first? Oh, and by the way, there's no reward for guessing right."
With that one sentence, it was as though every last bit of strength drained from Jai Lannister's body. He collapsed against the side of his cage in silence, saying nothing at all, his mind lost in thoughts no one else could see.
Clay was in no hurry. He leaned against the side and waited patiently. Since sleep would not co, he might as well chat a little more.
He cared little whether Jai Lannister wanted to talk to him or not. As a prisoner, Jai's feelings were of no concern to Clay.
A long ti passed. Jai Lannister turned over every possible scenario in his mind, and no matter which of his camps he considered, he realized that in their current unprepared state, none of them could possibly withstand the sudden strike of five thousand northern cavalry.
And once even a single camp fell, the siege of Riverrun would collapse entirely. With no room to maneuver, the ten thousand Lannister troops stationed there would be fortunate if two thousand managed to escape and return to the Westerlands under the rcy of the Seven.
With a resigned sigh, Jai cast a dull, lifeless glance toward Clay and spoke in a low, weary voice.
"You ask such a question. Did you co all this way just to humiliate ?"
He was referring to Clay's earlier words, asking him to guess the direction of the attack. To this, Clay rely shrugged his shoulders.
"Don't think too much of it, Ser Jai Lannister. I have no interest in humiliating you. That brings no pleasure. On the contrary, I respect the victories you've earned, having twice defeated the main forces of the Riverlords. As a commander, I rely wish to hear your opinion. Not as enemies from rival houses, but as soldiers speaking plainly."
Clay lifted his head and turned his gaze to the sky, where countless stars shimred in the depths of night. His voice was calm, almost quiet.
"After all, neither of us is going to sleep tonight, are we? Having soone to talk to is surely better than sitting alone with your thoughts in silence, wouldn't you agree?"
Jai could not even say what sort of mindset he had when answering that. Perhaps it was fatigue, perhaps it was resignation. But just as Clay said, setting aside the nas of their houses and the blood-soaked history between them, if one only judged by military conduct, then both sides had indeed perford well in their campaigns across the Riverlands.
"Fine then. Gods help , I must be mad, actually talking to you about how you slaughtered my n."
Clay responded with a small gesture, a silent motion that said plainly, say whatever you like. Jai continued.
"I have no doubt you already know the layout of the three camps stationed around Riverrun. And to be frank, even if you do manage to launch a surprise attack, I still do not believe you can bring down ten thousand n in one swift blow."
He reached up and tapped the cold steel of his armor, which had chilled in the night air and was now as cold as ice.
"Lannister infantryn, every single one of them, wear armor similar to mine. Though the craftsmanship may fall short of the set I wear, the protection is still formidable. To be frank, your Northern army… your equipnt lags far behind ours."
Clay did not deny this. There was no point in denial, and so he nodded in agreent.
"That is true. Northern smithing still has room for improvent. You've actually reminded of sothing. Once this war is done, I must see to it that we capture a few of the Westerlands' master smiths and bring them back to White Harbor."
As the na White Harbor lingered briefly in the air, Jai Lannister pressed his lips together, thoughtfully, but said nothing. He carried on, elaborating further.
"And those two great rivers blocking our path from taking Riverrun. They make direct coordination difficult. I think the most you can manage is to destroy two of our camps in a single strike. But to completely annihilate all three in one sweeping blow, like you did today… that would be impossible."
He lifted his right hand, drawing it slowly through the air as if sketching an invisible line.
"You and I both know the terrain around Riverrun. Aside from those two rivers, the land is as flat and barren as the breasts of won from the Vale. Not a single ridge or rise in sight."
"I trust my soldiers. They are veterans in battle, and when the ti cos, they will know how to flee death too."
Clay offered a small nod in response to Jai Lannister's confidence in his troops. He neither agreed nor contradicted him.
"Jai Lannister," Clay said, "I can tell you this much without hesitation. The Lannisters' siege of Riverrun is finished. No matter how many of your n fall in this next battle, no matter how fierce the resistance, the Tullys will reclaim their rule over the Riverlands. You will not be able to stop it."
Jai offered no rebuttal. There was no need. It was a truth that even the most stubborn soldier would understand.
Silence fell between them again. Neither man seed to know what to say next.
"Now," Clay said at last, his tone shifting, "let us speak of another matter. Tell , how important do you think you are to your father?"
Seeing that Jai Lannister did not understand the question, Clay sighed softly and explained further.
"Let put it differently. You, sitting here with , serve no purpose other than consuming our rations. So, if Lord Tywin Lannister offers a price that I find satisfactory, I would not hesitate to send you back to him at once."
At last, Jai understood what Clay was truly getting at. But one thing puzzled him. Throughout all of Clay's talk of negotiation and ransom, not once had he ntioned consulting House Stark. Was it not customary for a matter like this to be brought before the head of the Northern army, that wolf pup from Winterfell? Should it not be him who holds the final say?
From the very beginning, he had never quite understood why the Starks would entrust their entire cavalry force to soone like Clay. A boy with no na, no history, and no fa in all the Seven Kingdoms.
What exactly was his relationship with the Stark family? That level of trust was no small thing. Eddard Stark had two daughters, who had fled King's Landing with him, their whereabouts still unknown. Yet, there had been no word of any betrothal.
Clay had not been promised to either of Stark's daughters. He did not carry the Stark na. Nor was he so seasoned nobleman of great reputation, an old lion in the Ga Of Thrones. He seed more like a stranger who had leapt straight from the crags of Dragonstone, and yet he now commanded the full strength of the North's cavalry.
With one single decisive strike, he had utterly reversed the situation on the battlefield outside Riverrun.
Jai Lannister began to realize that sothing about this Clay Manderly did not add up. Sothing had happened, sothing he had not been told. There was no other explanation for how such proud, battle-hardened Northern lords and soldiers had co to follow this young man so willingly, even wholeheartedly.
He was a commander himself. He knew all too well the difference between soldiers who obeyed out of duty and those who followed out of true loyalty.
"Clay Manderly, my worth may not be as high as you imagine. I am a knight of the Kingsguard. The next Lord of House Lannister will be my brother, the one who spends more ti swimming in wine than thinking about legacy."
Jai did his best to make his tone sound light, almost amused, as he added, "A Kingsguard knight is not worth a great deal in gold dragons. Perhaps you should talk to the boy sitting on the Iron Throne about my ransom. But I would not set your hopes too high. He might not be willing to pay even a single coin."
That was, of course, nonsense. Perhaps his son would not offer a single dragon for him, but his dear sister certainly would. She would likely order Lord Petyr Baelish to squeeze every last coin from the royal treasury to secure his return.
"Ser Jai, do you underestimate your own worth so easily? Even if Lord Tywin refuses to offer a single gold dragon, do you truly think your dear son and your beloved woman would remain silent? After all, the Queen Dowager Cersei is quite... fond of you. Even on her visit to Winterfell, she could not help but seek your company. Do you need to remind you of it? Shall I say it? The Broken Tower, perhaps?"
Clay spoke with an easy smile, his tone gentle and unhurried. But the words that left his lips struck Jai Lannister like a blow of ice across the heart. He froze in place, stunned, as a terrible chill seeped through his entire body.
How could he possibly know?
Yes, it was true that Joffrey's questionable claim to the throne had shattered the Seven Kingdoms, for he was not Robert's true heir. Yet the matter had never been openly proven. And now, here he was, hearing the truth of what he had done with Cersei in Winterfell from the lips of a Northern noble, spoken casually, as if it were common knowledge.
The location was exact. The tone was certain. There was no ambiguity in Clay's words. This was no guess, no idle suspicion. He knew.
But how could that be?
He rembered clearly why he and Cersei had chosen the Broken Tower. That place was quiet, abandoned, far from curious eyes. Before doing anything, they had even checked the surrounding area carefully. He rembered distinctly that the floor of the Broken Tower had been thick with dust, the kind that takes years to gather, untouched by any human presence.
And yet Clay's words now made his spine crawl with dread. Could it be that, at that very mont when he and Cersei had climbed to their secret heights of passion, a pair of unseen eyes had been watching them from the shadows with idle interest?
Had every move he made within Winterfell been under another's gaze from the beginning?
Was it the Starks? That seed unlikely. Eddard Stark's reputation for honor was known throughout the realm. If it wasn't him, then who could it be?
As Jai looked into the eyes of Clay Manderly, who was smiling at him with the calm of a man in complete control, a sudden realization gripped his heart.
The place he had fallen into today was perhaps not the result of misfortune, but of a carefully laid plan. A plan that had been inevitable from the start.
What exactly are you planning?
For the first ti in his life, Jai Lannister felt a fear he could not na. It coursed through his body, cold and violent, making him tremble from head to toe.
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[Chapter End's]
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