WMK 131

Chapter 131: The Beric's Decision

The river water flowed slowly over the wide expanse of the Mummers' Ford, following the winding, twisting course downstream toward Riverrun. The water over the ford was clear, revealing the gravel and pebbles on the riverbed, and the young faces lying still beneath the surface.

Tywin Lannister, astride a magnificent white steed, gazed at a crimson banner embroidered with a golden lion floating in the water. A pale hand broke the surface, clutching the flagpole, while its owner lay face-down on the riverbed.

A light breeze ruffled the enormous cloak woven with golden threads draped over Tywin's shoulders, revealing the bright golden lion on his deep red armor.

Noticing his brother's gaze, Kevan Lannister – stout-shouldered and thick-waisted, with fine skin, golden hair and beard, though in truth little hair remained – spoke up. "He was killed from behind."

Not wearing his helmet, the notoriously fearsome Mountain That Rides looked unexpectedly somewhat simple-minded, his eyes slightly dull, though they occasionally flashed with a bloodthirsty ferocity that made one's heart tremble.

"The enemy had too many reinforcements. We were outnumbered," the Mountain rumbled in his deep voice.

Lord Leo Lefford of the Golden Tooth muttered, "How did the Whents get to the Red Fork? They've come a long way."

No one paid any attention to the tedious lord.

The tall, lean Ser Addam Marbrand asked, "Lord Gregor, how would you assess the quality of the Whent cavalry?"

"Their equipment was excellent. Perhaps half of the cavalry wore full plate armor, at the very least three or four in ten. In the recent fight, we were at a disadvantage not only in numbers but also in gear."

Harren Swyft, twirling his short white beard, widened his eyes. "How… how is that possible? Does Harrenhal have a gold mine too?"

The Mountain glanced at the chinless old man, then returned his gaze to Addam. "Their training was also good, at least on par with our men."

A trace of worry appeared in Kevan's eyes. "Let's hope that's all the elite troops the Whents have. Otherwise, it could be quite troublesome."

"We made a grave mistake overlooking House Whent before, but that won't happen again." With that, Tywin tugged the reins, urged his horse into the river, a golden glint flashing in his pale green eyes.

A steel tide, clad in red and gold, followed in his wake, crossing the Red Fork in a mighty torrent.

The sounds of marching feet, hooves, and clanking armor rose in a deafening roar, kicking up clouds of dust and startling flocks of birds into flight. Gazing west towards the mountains, the setting sun was as red as blood, the north wind as sharp as a knife.

Night fell. In the riverside camp, bonfires burned fiercely, bright and vigorous. The bats on the banners seemed almost lifelike in the firelight, as if ready to take flight.

A large tent served as a temporary hospital, housing over a dozen severely wounded men. They had all received treatment now and were sunk in deep sleep.

Thanks to aerial reconnaissance, William had insisted the army scour the battlefield meticulously. They buried their fallen comrades, took all wounded who still drew breath, and only fled at the very last moment before the Westerland host arrived.

Passing by the tent, William entered. Standing in the center, he looked around at the sleeping wounded and couldn't help but touch the magic ring on his finger.

After the warlock had taken one magical item, he could still cast three healing spells. But now there were more than a dozen wounded men.

Moreover, he had to consider the possibility of important subordinates being wounded in future battles, needing treatment. So, these wounded soldiers could only be left to the care of the former Citadel apprentice turned field medic.

"Ron, how are they?" William asked quietly as the apprentice approached.

The stoutly built apprentice shook his head. "I've done all I can. The rest is up to the will of the Seven."

At that moment, William missed Margaery in Highgarden even more. Was she happy every day? Did she miss him as much as he missed her?

Cooking pots were set over every bonfire, filling the entire camp with the smells of food – sweet barley porridge and enticing meat broth.

The high-ranking knights sat around one bonfire, talking and laughing loudly. Among them were William's two guards, Bennard and Miles; several Whent cavalry captains; Lord Beric; Lord Raymond; and a few knights under their command.

"Does the Whent army eat this well?" Beric swallowed hard, glancing around the camp. He saw the other cavalrymen were indeed eating similar food, just without the wine.

"An absolute great victory!" Ser Jermaine raised his handsome eyebrows. "Our casualties are less than fifty, while the Lannisters lost at least two hundred."

"More than that," said Ser Creighton from the Vale, who looked very shrewd. "On the riverbank alone at the end, they left no fewer than a hundred bodies. Counting the earlier fighting, and the results from Lord Beric and his men, I'd say the Westerland forces lost three hundred. What do you think, Lord Beric?"

Beric's expression darkened slightly. "If we count our losses, the casualties are over a hundred too."

Of the hundred and twenty men who had crossed the river with him, only just over sixty remained. More than half the knights had fallen, and worse still, Lord Rorsa Mallery was among the slain.

Raymond clapped the Beric on the shoulder. In his heart, Lord Beric was a man of great responsibility, which was also part of his immense charm.

Seeing Beric's expression, the Whent knights also put away their smiles and quieted down. For a moment, only the crackling of the firewood could be heard.

"Ahem? Why so quiet, everyone? Did I misremember? Did we suffer a defeat today, not a victory?" William's laughter came from behind the Beric.

He smilingly squeezed to sit between the usually taciturn Rorso and Wyl.

Beric also laughed heartily. "You're right. We should drink to today's victory. Ned, pour Ser William some wine."

William shifted his gaze to behind the Beric, looking at the young squire who shared the same nickname as the Lord of the North – Edric Dayne, heir to Starfall, nephew to the wielder of Dawn.

He was about ten years old or so, with pale blond hair and large, deep blue eyes.

Though he looked somewhat shy, his movements were natural and efficient as he promptly poured William a cup of wine.

Looking at the golden liquid in the cup, William brought it to his nose and took a deep sniff. "Golden wine from the Arbor, indeed… To enjoy such fine wine on the march, my thanks, Lord Beric."

Beric laughed. "It is we who should thank you, Ser William. If not for you, I fear none of us would have escaped the Mountain's clutches."

William also felt some regret that the Mountain had gotten away.

While he was undoubtedly a vicious, maniacal devil, based on today's encounter, in terms of martial prowess, he truly ranked among the very best in the Seven Kingdoms, especially on the battlefield, where his lethality might even exceed that of the Red Viper.

It was a pity that the peculiar "bullet time" state couldn't be activated at will. Otherwise, even enduring the severe side effects, he would have used it to slay the Mountain.

But there would likely be many chances to fight the Mountain in the near future. He wouldn't lack for opportunities to kill him.

The red priest raised his wine cup. "To the Magic Knight, and to the great Lord of Light!"

The other knights echoed in agreement, raising their cups to toast William.

However, the latter part of the toast varied. Ser Alyn, the northern guard captain, hailed the Old Gods. Most knights, including William, hailed the Seven. Only the Beric added an extra phrase: "To all the brave warriors who fell in battle."

The dinner wasn't lavish, as William insisted on no special treatment, so the knights ate much the same as the common soldiers.

But the knights chatted and laughed, discussing the day's battle, and still enjoyed their meal.

Raising his cup, William asked, "What are your plans now, Lord Beric?"

"Since Lord Tywin has raised his banners in rebellion, we can only return to report to Lord Eddard."

'A wise choice. In the original story, was it because he was killed once that he held a grudge and fixated on the Mountain?'

William sighed. "I'm afraid you cannot deliver that report."

He then quietly shared the latest news from King's Landing. The King's death, the Queen Mother's coup – each shocking piece of news exploded like thunder in their ears.

Hearing that Eddard had been captured, Alyn shot to his feet, his voice strained. "That's impossible!"

"I'm afraid it's true, Alyn. I saw it with my own eyes," William said. "And since Lord Tywin has marched, I believe King's Landing will soon announce this to the Seven Kingdoms."

Alyn looked lost, muttering, "I must go to King's Landing."

"I suggest you take your men to Moat Cailin. You might encounter the northern host there. Winterfell received this news long ago; I believe the North is already mobilized, and Robb may lead his army south at any time. You can travel via High Heart to Harrenhal, then take the Kingsroad north. That route should still be relatively safe for now."

"Thank you for your counsel, Ser," Alyn said, having calmed down. He slowly sat back down, staring into the flickering flames, lost in thought.

"No, this has no legal basis!" Beric shook his head. "Lord Tywin is rebelling."

"Exactly!" William seized the moment to extend an invitation. "You could join us in putting down the rebellion."

"How do you plan to fight Lord Tywin, Ser William?" Beric asked.

"Ideally, we would utilize the defenses of Lord Lychester's keep, Wayfarer's Rest, and Pinkmaiden to tie down the Westerland forces. This would prevent the war from spreading to the heart of the Riverlands and devastating the land and its people."

The Beric nodded thoughtfully. "So, your plan focuses primarily on holding the castles. If Lord Tywin cannot capture them, he wouldn't dare push deeper."

He pondered for a while, then lifted his head. The campfire light reflected in his eyes, making it seem as if a flame burned within his heart.

"On this journey through the Riverlands, I've passed through many attacked areas. Once-prosperous villages and towns are now just ruins. Corpses rot and return to the earth, flowers wither, streams run dry, and life is extinguished. Ser William, I have heard your name, witnessed your valor firsthand, and seen the elite soldiers of House Whent. I believe you can protect the people of the Riverlands. But it's easy to foresee that, before final victory is achieved, the lands between these castles will become scorched earth in this war. What will become of the people living there?"

TBeric looked at William. "I intend to go and help those people. I'm sorry I cannot fight by your side."