The moon shone brightly, while only a few stars dotted the sky.
The night air was cool and still.
It was the darkest hours before dawn, and the tide was ebbing along the Trident near the Ruby Ford.
Normally, the river could only be crossed by boat.
Now, however, the water barely reached a horse's knees.
Kevan sat quietly upon his horse on the southern bank of the Trident, gazing across the shallow waters toward the Ruby Ford beyond.
Behind him stood two clearly divided forces: the soldiers of the Westerlands and the sellswords of the Brave Companions.
Since Kevan had decided to trust Roose and march north, the army had been traveling for two days straight.
At last, they had reached the southern bank of the Ruby Ford before dawn.
"My lord... it's... getting late..." said Vargo Hoat, commander of the Brave Companions, stepping forward.
His words came out muffled as he chewed something between his teeth. "Shouldn't... we make camp and rest?"
Kevan glanced at the gaunt, towering sellsword and concealed a trace of contempt in his eyes.
"Rest?"
"Captain Vargo, we didn't march day and night from Harrenhal just to rest beside a river."
"Pass the order. Your men cross first. Mine will follow behind."
Vargo froze.
"Now?"
"Captain Vargo," Kevan replied coldly, raising his riding crop and pointing toward the opposite shore, "has your tongue gone bad enough that your ears no longer work?"
"This is low tide on the Trident.
If we don't cross now, then once the water rises we will either need boats or wait for the next ebb.
Do you know how much time that would cost us?
Now.
I intend to cross before the tide returns, strike the northern and riverlander rabble before they can react, and wipe them out completely.
When that happens, Captain Vargo, I give you my word as a Lannister.
Your rewards will exceed anything you've imagined."
Though he despised the mercenaries, Kevan knew he still needed them. After delivering a warning, he followed it with a generous promise.
As always, Vargo Hoat's eyes immediately filled with greed.
A low chuckle escaped him as the coins hanging around his neck rattled softly.
"If that's your command, my lord, what objection could I possibly have? The Brave Companions stand ready to serve."
He wheeled his horse around and galloped back toward his men.
As he approached, hundreds of eager eyes turned toward him.
Raising his arm, he shouted:
"Brothers! The Lannister lord has spoken!"
"Take down the northern and riverlander dogs, and there'll be gold and women for the taking!"
"Kill them all!"
Instantly, the mercenaries erupted into wild cheers.
"Kill them!"
"Take everything!"
"The Riverlands belong to us!"
Bandits, thieves, murderers, and outlaws roared as one, raising their weapons overhead.
Vargo smiled cruelly as he surveyed his followers.
When the cheering finally died down, he pointed toward the river.
"Cross!"
Spurring his horse forward, he splashed into the shallow waters and headed for the opposite bank.
Behind him came the Brave Companions, dressed in mismatched armor and carrying an assortment of weapons.
Their formation was loose and disorganized as they waded across.
The ford could not accommodate more than ten thousand men at once.
Combined with the need for security, Kevan had no choice but to send them across in waves.
Time passed slowly.
By the time dawn approached, only the soldiers of the Westerlands remained on the southern shore.
Estimating that the tide would soon return, Kevan turned toward one of his officers.
"Pass the order. We move now."
The officer nodded and immediately began organizing the crossing.
"Forward!"
Kevan rode into the center of the river first.
Watching the current carefully, he soon noticed the water moving faster beneath his horse's hooves.
The river was rising.
"Faster!"
"Move faster!"
"The tide is coming in!"
Under Kevan's constant urging, the army hurried through the water.
Even so, by the time the final groups reached the Ruby Ford, the river had risen to their thighs.
The exhausted soldiers stood on the bank, breathing heavily.
The darkness was beginning to fade. A faint line of light appeared on the eastern horizon.
Kevan's gaze swept across the weary troops before settling on the west.
There stood the Inn at the Crossroads.
Taking a deep breath, he ignored the approaching sunrise and began issuing orders.
"Set watches. Send scouts. Find the northern and riverlander army."
"Form the remaining troops and prepare for battle at any moment."
"Captain Vargo, keep your men under control. Ser Amory Lorch, take part of the cavalry and secure the inn."
Before the orders could be fully carried out, however, the sound of approaching hoofbeats echoed from the direction of the inn.
Kevan immediately became alert.
"Everyone, be ready."
"Ser Amory, take some riders and investigate."
Amory nodded and rode off with roughly a hundred cavalrymen. A short time later, they encountered seven northern scouts.
The two groups spotted one another from roughly three hundred yards away.
For a brief moment, both sides froze.
Then the northern scouts noticed the dark mass of soldiers gathered at the Ruby Ford.
Their faces immediately changed.
"Enemy attack!"
"It's the Lannisters!"
"Hurry!"
"Warn the lords!"
Without hesitation, they wheeled their horses around and galloped toward the Crossing camp.
"Damn it."
Amory cursed under his breath.
Drawing his bow, he fired several arrows after the fleeing scouts.
None struck their targets.
"Bloody hell." Spitting onto the ground, he turned his horse around. "Back to Lord Kevan!"
Returning to the ford, he quickly reported.
"My lord, northern scouts... They spotted us and are heading back to their camp."
Kevan frowned.
He had hoped to catch the enemy completely by surprise. That possibility was now gone.
'According to Bolton's information, their camp lies roughly ten miles north of the crossing.'
His mind quickly calculated the situation.
A cavalry force could cover the distance in half an hour. But his army consisted mostly of infantry.
To reach the enemy camp, they would need at least three or four hours.
After marching for nearly two days without rest, the army would be exhausted.
Charging straight into a fresh enemy force would be suicide.
"We cannot rush blindly. We proceed carefully. They need rest."
The decision came quickly.
"Tell the cooks to prepare food. Everyone eats within the hour."
"Send cavalry scouts. Watch for any northern advance."
After issuing a series of orders, Kevan turned to Vargo. "Captain Vargo. Take your men and occupy the Inn at the Crossroads."
"Leave no one alive."
Vargo's face twisted into a vicious grin.
With a shout, he led his men toward the inn.
Moments later, screams echoed through the morning air. Soon afterward, smoke began rising above the crossroads.
.....
While Kevan's army rested and prepared for battle, the northern scouts raced back to the Crossing camp.
They reached it in less than half an hour.
The news spread immediately among the northern and riverlander lords.
"What?!"
"Are you certain they were Lannisters?"
Inside the command tent, Rickard Karstark fixed the scout with a hard stare.
The man nodded rapidly.
"Yes, my lord."
"I saw Lannister banners. And mercenary banners as well."
"How many?"
Lord Bracken interrupted.
The scout hesitated.
"We didn't get close enough for an exact count. A dark mass stretching across the ford."
"Maybe ten thousand... Maybe twenty."
The tent immediately erupted.
"Ten thousand or twenty thousand?" Lord Tallhart demanded.
The distinction mattered.
The allied army numbered only a little over ten thousand.
If the enemy truly had twenty thousand men, there would be little point fighting at all.
Every lord fixed the scout with an intense stare.
Sweat appeared on his brow.
After a nervous pause, he settled on a compromise. "Perhaps fifteen thousand."
"Cavalry or infantry?"
"Mostly infantry."
"Where exactly were they?"
"The Ruby Ford."
The questioning continued for several more minutes before Rickard finally dismissed him.
Once the scout was gone, he looked around the tent.
"My lords... What do we do now?"
When Robb died, Roose had temporarily seized command.
But when he left to escort Edmure to the Twins, he deliberately failed to appoint a replacement.
As a result, every decision now required agreement between northern and riverlander lords.
In peacetime, that was manageable.
In war, it was disastrous.
Especially since many of those present belonged to families that had hated each other for generations.
"What's there to discuss?" snapped Lord Blackwood. "The enemy is stronger. We should withdraw."
"Withdraw?"
Lord Bracken immediately sneered.
"So you want us to run? I always knew House Blackwood was full of cowards."
Blackwood laughed angrily. "If Stone Hedge rides first, Raventree Hall will charge beside you."
"I'll do it. Will you?"
Before Bracken could answer, other feuding lords joined the argument.
"I agree with Blackwood. We should regroup at the Twins."
"Nonsense! Are riverlanders supposed to flee while the North watches?"
The northern lords were no better.
Without Robb holding them together, every man believed his own judgment superior.
They no longer argued about whether to fight.
They argued about how.
"We should wait for Lord Glover." Lady Mormont spoke firmly.
Greatjon Umber immediately snorted. "Glover won't arrive for another day or two. The battle will be over by then."
"I say we march now and smash the Lannisters."
Donnel Locke shook his head. "They outnumber us. Charging headlong is suicide."
A knight from Hornwood cursed under his breath.
"Damn Bolton. If he hadn't taken half the army away, we wouldn't be trapped like this."
"We need Lord Glover..."
One riverlander lord laughed mockingly.
"Glover, Glover, Glover. Can the North do nothing without him?"
The response was immediate.
"We're fighting for your Riverlands!"
"For us?" The riverlander scoffed. "The Riverlands are fighting because the North dragged us into this war."
The argument exploded.
Riverlander against northerner.
House against house.
Insults and accusations filled the tent. The shouting continued for more than an hour.
Finally, Wylis Manderly, heir to White Harbor, stood.
"My lords!"
His voice rang loudly enough to silence the tent.
"The Lannisters are practically on our doorstep. If we keep arguing, we won't even have time to retreat."
"I propose we concentrate our forces and engage them first. Test their strength. Then decide our next move."
"Lord Glover is nearly here. Even if we cannot defeat them, surely we can delay them."
Silence followed.
Everyone considered the proposal.
At last, Rickard Karstark nodded.
"Agreed."
Others followed.
With no better option available, the allied lords finally reached a reluctant consensus.
Unfortunately, a new argument immediately began.
Who would command?
The question proved even more divisive.
Neither the North nor the Riverlands would accept the other's leadership. No one wanted their soldiers used as expendable fodder.
Another half hour passed.
No agreement was reached.
Finally, a knight from Hornwood offered a solution. "Each lord commands his own men. No one commands anyone else."
After a brief silence, the tent reluctantly accepted.
Thus, the army at the Crossing camp began preparing for battle in the most chaotic manner imaginable.
Meanwhile, Kevan's army had completed its rest and was steadily advancing toward the camp.
The battle was drawing near.
And at the same time, Galon's fleet was less than an hour away from the Ruby Ford.
__________
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