Game of thrones: the Sunblode rise

Chapter 57: The Mind of a Wolf

The skies above Riverrun darkened with storm clouds as if the gods themselves bore witness to the war brewing below. Tywin Lannister's forces marched steadily toward the castle, their banners visible even from the battlements. Despite the distant rumble of thunder and the ominous advance of the lion's army, Ivar Sunblode's mind was calm. He stood in the war room, surrounded by his council, his sharp eyes scanning the maps and reports spread before him.

The Riverlands had been reforged in fire and blood under Ivar's leadership. His victories at the Red Fork and Tumblestone had been won with strategy, discipline, and cunning. But today, he intended to show his enemies—and his allies—that his mind was a far deadlier weapon than any blade.

"This will be the last time Tywin underestimates us," Ivar began, his voice low but carrying a quiet menace. "He believes he's marching to crush a rebellion. He doesn't realize he's walking into a slaughter."

Roland Emberhill frowned, his arms crossed. "His numbers are overwhelming, Ivar. Even with Riverrun's defenses, it'll be a hard fight. What's the plan?"

"The plan," Ivar said, his lips curling into a faint smile, "is to make Tywin fight the war I want him to fight. Every step he takes toward Riverrun will cost him more than he can afford to lose."

Lysa Blackthorne arched an eyebrow, her expression wary. "And how do you propose we do that? He's already burning the Riverlands. What leverage do we have left?"

Ivar's gaze turned cold. "Leverage isn't about what you have—it's about what you're willing to do."

He moved to the map, pointing to key locations along Tywin's route. "We've evacuated most of the villages near Riverrun, but we've left behind supplies—just enough to lure his foraging parties. Timothy's enhanced soldiers will ambush those parties, capturing a few prisoners to spread panic among the rest."

Timothy grinned, his knives glinting in the torchlight. "I like where this is going. What do we do with the prisoners?"

"We turn them into a message," Ivar said, his tone chilling. "Send them back to Tywin's camp—alive, but mutilated. Let them speak of the horrors awaiting anyone who marches against Riverrun."

Duncan Greenfield hesitated, his expression troubled. "That's… cruel, Ivar. It'll spread fear, but it could also embolden Tywin. He thrives on vengeance."

"That's the point," Ivar replied sharply. "Fear will make his men hesitate, but anger will cloud Tywin's judgment. He'll push harder, faster, trying to end this quickly. And that's when we destroy him."

Lysa exchanged a glance with Roland, her lips pressed into a thin line. "And if Tywin doesn't take the bait? If he sees through the trap?"

"He won't," Ivar said confidently. "He's too arrogant to consider that anyone could outthink him. But just in case, we have contingencies."

He turned to Lysa, his expression calculating. "Your spies have infiltrated Tywin's camp. Have them sabotage his supply wagons—poison the food, set fires, spread rumors of desertion. Anything that sows chaos."

"And what about the Riverland lords?" Roland asked. "They're already on edge. If they catch wind of this…"

"They won't," Ivar said. "By the time they realize what's happening, the battle will be over. And they'll thank us for saving their lands, no matter how we did it."

The first phase of Ivar's plan unfolded with brutal efficiency. Timothy's soldiers ambushed Tywin's foraging parties under cover of night, leaving behind scenes of calculated horror. Survivors stumbled back to Tywin's camp with tales of shadows in the woods and attackers who moved with inhuman speed.

Gregor Clegane, the Mountain, sneered as he listened to the reports. "Cowards. Let me take a hundred men into those woods. I'll flush them out."

Tywin silenced him with a glare. "No. That's exactly what Sunblode wants. He's trying to draw us off balance. We stay the course."

But even Tywin's discipline couldn't prevent the cracks from forming. His supply wagons were found smoldering in the early hours of the morning, the stench of poisoned rations filling the air. Whispers of sabotage spread through the camp like wildfire, and the men grew restless.

One evening, as Tywin reviewed his battle plans, Kevan entered the tent, his face drawn. "There's talk of desertion, Tywin. The men are spooked."

"Then remind them what happens to deserters," Tywin said coldly.

Kevan hesitated. "It's not just the men. Some of the lesser commanders are questioning our strategy. They say Sunblode is toying with us."

Tywin's jaw tightened, his fury barely contained. "Sunblode is a cunning strategist, but he's still a cornered wolf. Once we take Riverrun, the Riverlands will fall in line. Spread the word—any commander who speaks of doubt will answer to me personally."

Meanwhile, Ivar prepared the second phase of his plan. He stood on the battlements of Riverrun, watching as his soldiers loaded barrels of oil onto the walls and sharpened the stakes lining the castle's defenses.

"We're not just defending Riverrun," Ivar said to his captains. "We're turning it into a killing ground. Every step Tywin takes will cost him blood. By the time he reaches the walls, his army will be too weak to take them."

Roland surveyed the preparations with a mix of awe and unease. "You've thought of everything, haven't you?"

"I have to," Ivar replied. "Tywin fights with brute force and fear. I fight with precision. The moment we lose control of this battle, we lose everything."

"And if Tywin adapts?" Roland asked.

Ivar's gaze hardened. "Then we make him regret it."

The final blow came just before Tywin's army reached Riverrun. Lysa's spies infiltrated his camp one last time, spreading false orders that redirected a portion of his forces to a nonexistent threat near the Red Fork. By the time Tywin realized the deception, it was too late—his army was divided, his supply lines in shambles, and his men demoralized.

As Tywin's forces finally arrived at Riverrun, they found a castle bristling with defenses, its walls lined with archers and siege engines. Smoke rose from the surrounding fields, where Ivar's men had set controlled fires to funnel the enemy into kill zones.

From the battlements, Ivar watched as Tywin's army faltered, their momentum broken before the battle had even begun.

"Welcome to Riverrun," Ivar muttered, a cold smile playing on his lips. "Let's see how the lion fares in the jaws of a wolf."

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