personal 4

The former seats of the two houses quickly surrendered when his army showed up at their gates. Lucas had not yet decided what he would do with the lands. They were quite rich and fertile though he did have some plans. For a while now he had been pondering what needed to be done when the war was over and peace had been secured. Forts would be built in strategic locations that was for sure. At the bottom of the High Road across from the Bloody Gate. A chokepoint worked both ways and if he had to attack the Bloody Gate to reach the Vale then they would have to take his fort to attack the Riverlands. Maybe two facing the Riverlands. One at the Golden Tooth, and another further north near Ironmans bay where the Westerlands met his own lands. It would serve both to check the west and the Iron Islands. He thought the Twins would do well enough to check the north, besides he was married to a northerner, if he had anything to say about it the two kingdoms would never war with each other. He planned on taking everything north of the Blackwater which would include most of what would one day become the crownlands and would give him a border with the Stormlands. A fortified bridge would be built at the mouth of the Blackwater which the Stormlands would need to take to invade him. The Reach would be harder but a sequence of maybe three fortified forts would be built along the Black water rush where his most southern lands lay. Fortified bridges would be his bread and butter for defense as they, as evidenced by the Twins, were exceedingly hard to take. They would be well garrisoned on both sides and would take tolls, not large ones but enough to keep the forts running well enough while his family supplied the rest of the money. They would have no lord or heredity command position instead a leader would be chosen from among the men there with the Blackwood kings agreement of course, they would have orders to destroy the bridge if one side of the fort thought it was going to lose to stop the enemy army from crossing. Yes, that would work. But that project would be exceedingly expensive and would take a lot of time to be completed, no doubt it would be his heir or maybe even his heir's heir that would be the one to see the project completed. But first he needed to actually unify the Riverlands and the host of Sellswords to his north were a growing concern. He had heard rumours that they were being financed by the Arryns and were growing in number, devout Andal colonizers unhappy with being led by a heathen when joining them in vast numbers. He needed to crush them before the situation spiralled out of control.

"You made a mistake in not cutting down the fleeing troops." His cousin spoke as his commanders gathered. Brynden had never not spoken his mind though it got him a glare and scathing remarks to address him with the proper respect from many lords.

"Though Lord Redwood could do with a check between his brain and mouth he speaks correctly. I should have anticipated them joining the other host. I thought their hope would be crushed and they would be happy to just return home. That was only true for around half of those that escaped. The rest have likely joined the other host which he has learned is now marching south towards us and is swelling as we speak." Lucas spoke grimly. He had let his Earthen morals get in the way of what needed to be done, that was unacceptable, he had been hardened by war and had sent men to cut down fleeing enemies in every battle up until then so why now did he hesitate?

"How many do they have?" Lord Darry asked.

"Around 34,000." Lucas said. "25,000 sellswords, 5,000 Freys, Mooton and Hawick men and around four thousand new unaccounted for men, likely those that fled north from our battle, zealous smallfolk unhappy with the rule of a 'heathen' and probably some Vale men."

"Valemen?" Lord Paege asked.

"Aye, I have heard muttering that the Arryns are unhappy that the heathens are gaining power in their only neighbouring kingdom and so are trying to check my power indirectly. Though in the future it could become direct." Lucas said grimly.

"More war?" said Lord Smallwood, shaking his head.

"Aye, King Harlon has promised military aid however should the Arryns go any further and I have contacts inside the Vale trying to undermine the Arryns there. We shall see how effective it is though." Lucas said the other Lord nodded. "We shall march north and retake maidenpool. The sellsword ships there will be seized and the sept there burnt. After that we shall march north once more to the ford north of Castle Darry, depending one where they are we shall either march north to castle Ryger or we shall remain and force them to fight us across the river." Lucas said authoritatively "Lord Ryger you will lead your men and north tomorrow, gather supplies for a siege just to be safe and prepare your castle to defend. If the sellsword does not besiege you then you should lead your men south to join us in the battle."

—-

28,000 men had shown up at Maidenpool ready to storm the keep. In the end all it had taken was one assault, the city was practically undefended and had not expected an assault. 300 men had defended the city and had been slaughtered to the man, not because they had stood brave and fought to their deaths, no it was the opposite, they had fled at the first contact and had been run down and slaughtered. In the streets. The city went unmolested by his men though it had taken every ounce of his generalship to stop some of his more undisciplined men from sacking the city, he had delivered a rousing speech about how they were here to liberate Riverlanders from the tyrannical sellswords and that no Riverland soldier was to harm anyone other than the enemy inside that city. Of course not all had listened and 67 men had since been executed for rape, looting or murder. After those public executions no more had dared disobey him and his popularity had grown with the population. He had left 700 men behind to guard the city and boats while the remaining men, around 27,000 left the city and marched north to decide the fate of the Riverlands.

Marching in an army was not some glorious thing where men in shining armour marched in formation with the discipline of a thousand nuns, in actuality it was organised chaos at its greatest extent. Thousands of men with varying degrees of weapons and armour all sworn to a hundred different lords or landed knights. Of course it was not just the men that marched. Thousands of horses and pack animals, carts upon carts of supplies, camp followers of all varieties, whores, washerwomen, healers, cooks, smiths, fletchers, apprentices and engineers. All of these things were just as crucial to the army as the men who fought in it. The amount of supplies and gold it took to keep an army raised for as long as they had was truly astonishing but he had been able to bear the expenses by sending large foraging parties out, tapping into his gold reserves and by collecting a portion of the loot from battles for the crown. Not that the soldiers minded too much, there was plenty to go around and most of it ended up in their pockets anyway. Nonetheless he could not keep the army going for more than a year before he had to send them back to get the economy going again. His own black armoured Blackwood men occupied the centre of the army and marched alongside the supplies protecting them from any who would jeopardise the armies supplies of food and gold which were guarded by his most loyal men. His own men were disciplined and an actual near professional fighting force but still they were mostly levies and at the end of the war they would either return home with some glory and gold to continue there hard lives working till death or they would die in battle and would likely go unrecognised and tossed in a mass grave or cremated stripped of armour and weapons with only their personal valuables on them if they were lucky.

Water was another huge factor in keeping an army going as so many leaders had learned harshly in both worlds. The Targayens in Dorne, Guy of Lusignan, King of Jerusalem had learned the same at the Battle of Hattin and so many others. Fortunately this was the Riverlands and drinking water was abundant here. His army had reached the place that would one day become the ruby ford and he was currently going over his options. He really had only a few valid options. He could wait here and hope they came to him, but that would make him look weak as recently they had learned that the sellswords had begun raiding the Riverlands leaving carnage and devastation in their wake. Women used and killed, men and children killed and very few survivors. The thought enraged him and he had nearly force marched his army to smash the Teague cunt once and for all but his calmer head had prevailed realising that was exactly what the sellsword wanted. His other option was to pick another battle location closer to the Teague host. There was another river further north. A tributary that came down from the mountains of the Moon and joined with the Green Fork and while shallower than the Trident was still defensible enough to perhaps even the odds that their lesser numbers conceded to the Teague's.

They reached the as of yet unnamed river and he immediately formed up his army, for he knew that the Teague host was rapidly approaching them. Scouts and outriders were sent across the river and for three days a series of small skirmishes took place as the Teague host got closer and closer. Of course while these small battles of perhaps two hundred men made little difference in the long run they could either damage or boost morale in equal measure. If the scouts came back every night after losing every battle then the army would feel like the enemy was unstoppable and the same could be said in the opposite way should the result be different.

The skirmishes were fairly even with minimal casualties but it gave him valuable information. The size of the host was, as expected, 34,000 men strong and the sight of it coming into view would have made him faint just two years before. It dwarfed the Bracken, Vance and Piper hosts he had faced before and it was only after he looked down at his own great host that his steel returned. At the sight of the enemy host his own men began banging their weapons against their shields, the sound reverberating access the battlefield. It was an intimidation tactic and helped steel the nerves of his own men at the sight of the larger host as well. After around a minute of this they stopped and let out a huge roar.

—-

Torrence Teague felt his stomach grow uneasy as King Lucas's host let out a roar cry that must have been heard all across the Riverlands reverberating across the small hills that could be found all across the fertile green land. His own men certainly heard it and many became extremely uneasy. The septons had been non stop making sermons as the army marched, they spoke of how the Blackwood army was a force of barbarians and traitors who used the most vile of magics to defeat the good seven fearing people of the western and southern Riverlands and that they feasted on the corpses of the dead and captured men. Of course this theory was completely made obsolete to the educated men in the army when Lucas Blackwood allowed his fleeing enemy to flee unharried by the Blackwood army. A mistake on the part of the would be Blackwood king who had managed to assert dominance on the west, south and most of the east Riverland's.

Lucas Blackwood was a man who would no doubt go down in history as one of the great warriors of all time though if Torrence had anything to say about it this battlefield would be his end. This river was a smart place to battle, the banks were fairly steep and mucky, and while the river was shallow and completely fordable on foot it would be a slow process due to both the water and the cley like riverbed that would hinder his men's movements. Nonetheless he formed up his battle lines. He had 34,000 men in his host mostly sellswords from varying companies, Zealots from across the neighbouring kingdoms and even 3,000 Vale knights led by Ser Loman Moore, a knightly house sworn to the Aryns, obscure enough that it was likely Lucas Blackwood did not know of them yet powerful enough to lead that many men, for it was not the Falcon banner that they wore blazoned on their shield, instead it was the multicoloured sword of the Warrior Sons. The knights of the faith militant of which he had 4,000 if you count the Vale knights. Torrence had been offered an Arryn bride if he managed to conquer the Riverlands. He had seen the girl when he met with the Falcon king at the base of the mountains of the moon before he marched up to meet the Frey's. She was a pretty, slight and timid thing that reminded him of the slave girls he had had in Essos so shy and uncomfortable was she. Not that he minded, in fact he preferred it that way, he just hoped she wasn't a screamer.

Shaking those thoughts out of his head he observed his army. He was leading an army of the most devout after all it would not do to have such thoughts but then again with the rumours about the septons perhaps they would share his thoughts to a greater degree he thought laughing. The Blackwood king had brought more than 25,000 men with him and held a strong position across the River. In the barbarian center where the Blackwood men in their Black armour. These were the most deadly of the enemy and the men he was most reluctant to fight. But needs must. His counter to that was quite simple really. The Blackwood king had made the mistake of keeping his most elites in the center and his flanks weaker.

The devout and untrained levies would occupy his centre and like lambs to the slaughter they would die but by then it would be too late and the experienced sellswords would have smashed through the barbarian flanks. It had rained last night and the ground was muddy and boggy. In an ideal world he would have waited and just let the enemy come to him but he was low on both supplies and gold and he could not keep up this host for much longer and so he was forced to try and get a complete victory here so as to force the submission of the Riverlands. He could see no cavalry in the Blackwood hosts. Obviously they had the same idea as he had, cavalry would be near useless on the boggy ground and crossing the river.

The only solid ground was on the Blackwood side of the river and only on the flanks leading to the woods on one side and hill on the other side.

He decided to command from the back of his army with the reserve of 8,000 mostly the men of his old company, the Long Blades. On the left he placed 9,000, mostly sellswords under the command of his second, a Rhoynish man named Lazan and in the center he placed the Freys led by their Lord Hugor and the other levies and devout who were mostly armed with axes, hunting spears, farm equipment and some had a shield and the odd man had a bow of varying quality. On the right he had more sellswords and the dismounted knights of the Vale led by Ser Loman and the various sellsword captains.

He signalled the advance and the three forces of just under ten thousand each began to advance fairly across the water logged field. He did notice that the center was advancing much slower than the flanks due to the more boggy and muddy ground that could be found there. They advanced about three hundred metres before from behind the ranks of the tree worshippers archers appeared and began to fire straight into his men.

The longbow was a powerful weapon even when fired into the sky as most armies used. But when fired straight and direct it was capable of puncturing the plate armour of Westerosi knights. Arrows slammed into his ranks, some hit shields but the ones that didn't killed. Especially in the center, Blackwood archers were famed for their skill and accuracy and their arrows tore into the disorganised levies and zealous yet unskilled devout. The front ranks were decimated and the Blackwoods were firing at a much quicker pace than any normal archer was able to. After another five volleys from the flanks and seven in the center his own mixed ranged forces got into range. Crossbows, various types of bows and the odd sling began to fire back with varying degrees of effectiveness. Some of the hunting bows were made for killing small game like rabbits and hares but on a armoured man such as the black mail clad Blackwood longbows the most they did (if they even hit at all) was injure them and only when it was in the more important areas did it stop the man from shooting like in the neck,arms, shoulder or chest but other than that it did little to stop them firing.

The Blackwoods were also firing straight on while his own men had to arc their shots because his infantry had to advance while the enemy infantry just waited behind their archers. It was a slaughter but he had the men to survive the slaughter and still come out with the numbers advantage and so he did not withdraw but gave the orders to keep going.

—-

Their arrows struck true and when they did they killed, he saw the advancing men drop dead and saw more than one of his arrows hit a man but he did not stop firing into the mass of bodies. His arms burned from the weight of the bow yet still he did not stop firing. The man beside him went down injured with a badly made arrow in his thigh and yet both of them kept firing. He was from a village on the south side of the red fork in the lands that had once been ruled by the Brackens but after the war his village had come under the rule of King Lucas. And it was for that reason he donned the infamous blackmail and helmet of the Blackwood Longbowmen. He was a hunter by trade and after the marshall in charge of his village decided he was ready he was told he would be an archer and was trained in using a longbow for the next few years until this war started and the men were summoned to Raventree by the King, a great man was the King, everyone agreed on that at least, sent by the Old Gods no doubt. He had fought at the God's eye and his arrows had played their part there as well even if he reckoned he had killed twice as many men today as he had that day.

He drew once more and took aim at a more heavily armoured man with a shield that had two blue towers on it. He loosed the arrow and watched it fly and as though he gods had silenced the battlefield he would swear he heard the thump of the arrow striking the man straight through the helmet and into the eye and watched him fall. The men around that man seemed to falter and they started shouting something the archer couldn't hear. Was that the enemy leader? Or one of his subordinantes? Not thinking on it any further he drew another arrow, three remained in his quiver, and loosed it into the mass once more.

—-

"Lord Tremon is dead!" He heard someone cry and his heart stopped. His only son and heir, the boy who would carry on and create the Frey legacy, had apparently fallen. He seethed in rage and forced his way through the lines of men to where his son had been and let out a scream of rage as he saw his son. Two arrows in his shield but one straight through his visor and into his eye. He raged and seethed at his son being taken away from him in such a freak accident by the barbarian Blackwood's bowmen.

"Kill the bastards! Kill them all!" He screamed he raised his blade and began to run enraged at the Blackwoods, even as arrows rained around him he did not stop, he would have his revenge on Lucas Blackwood for taking away his family legacy, unconsciously he noticed his men joining him in his mad charge for vengeance, their was no formation just pure rage and lust as he ran as fast as he could to the river where arrows where still being loosed from bows. Until finally the rain ended and he realised they must be out of ammunition the archer's fell back from whence they came and the Blackwood infantry marched forwards, about three steps from the river. Spears braced and shields joined in a strong shield wall.

He reached the river and his breathing was ragged yet he was still determined. His men had by no caught up with him and he was sure they felt the burn of running through the muddy field just as much as he did. He dropped down into the river and with annoyance realised the riverbed was twice, if not three times as exhausting to wade through as the field. Nonetheless he reached the opposite side. The bed was fairly steep and it was slippy. It took him three attempts to get up and his limbs felt like lead by then yet still his rage carried his movements forwards.

The first few over the River joined him in smashing into the shield wall. He dodged a jab of a spear and caught another on his shield. He smashed his longsword down onto the shield of the man in front of him. Hugor Frey was a big and strong man even if he was nearing his fifties and past his best, his strike still made the man opposite him falter and the man's life was only saved because Hugor had to step back from a spear thrust that would have pierced his heart. By now he was being joined by more of his own men yet he was still in the front line. He stepped forwards once more, determined to get his revenge, managed to thrust his blade through the eye of the man in front of him, he withdrew the blade but by then another man was stepping into the shield wall. The man beside Hugor went down and it left Hugor's side open to a stab that pierced his thigh. He fell to his knees and saw the only thing he saw before everything went dark was the Blackwood sigil coming at him on a shield.

—-

The shield wall was a brutal place, men died and others stepped over or on their bodies, spears were broken and short swords were drawn. Shields became little more than splinters and men died. Some men died quickly, others screamed for their mothers and shit themselves as blood poured from wounds. The smell of blood and guts was overpowering and that alone was enough to bring tears to the eyes of a greenboy. His own men where holding very well in the center. The enemy, weakened by arrows and exhausted by their mad sprint across a muddy field where more than one slipped only to be trampled by others or from multiple attempts at climbing the steep and slippery river bank did not even have the strength to raise their weapons in some cases and the more Heavily armoured ones, which usually denoted a lord or his retinue where so exhausted that they seemed to accept their faith. On the flanks however things were not so rosy.

"My king! Lord Mallister men are holding but are being pushed back!" A runner who had been sent by the Mallister Lord to keep him updated informed him he nodded at the boy, likely once a squire.

"Inform Lord Mallister to cause as many casualties as possible as he falls back." He told the runner who rushed off to do so. He looked down across the battlefield once more. Lucas had been told not to fight by every Lord in his realm and while his reputation as a brilliant fighter was well earnt it would be a foolish risk to stand in the shield wall with his men. Instead he and his Ravens watched from a hill overlooking the battlefield with the reserves. Ready to send in the 5,000 or so that he had into the battle as he saw fit, if that included himself then so be it.

"Lord Harlton, take 1,000 men and reinforce Lord Mallister, Lord Smallwood do the same for Lord Redwood." He spoke and the two lords eagerly went off to do so, accompanied by their retinue and fighting family members. He looked around at the other commanders he had. Brynden was commanding the left, his Tully relatives the center and Lord Mallister and his two sons the left. Beside him now he had Lord Darry, though not his heir Lyman who was leading the cavalry on the right while Lord Ryger led the cavalry on the left. His uncle, and Bryndens father, Tytos had led the archers and was now once more beside him as the archers dropped their now useless bows and drew their shorts swords joining the reserves. Lord Lychester and Paege stood not far behind, ready to lead more reserves should the need arise.

"My King, that shall not hold them." Spoke to Lord Darry though his voice was not panicked.

"Aye, but it will kill more of them and we need to be pushed back so that your son, and brother in law can hit them from the back." He replied for hidden in the woods and behind the hill lay 3,000 cavalry, ready to smash into the rear of the sellswords who thought they were winning, for the ground on the flanks on this side of the river was more solid and would not slow the hammer that would crush the sellswords on his anvil of infantry.