The King of Winters

Chapter-102

Aegon

"I will not fail you, my prince. I will make you proud for the honour you have placed upon me." Ser Myles swung up into his saddle, every inch the shining knight in his bright mail and flowing white cloak  lined with golden thread along the edges. A red salmon ornamented the front of his surcoat, twin to the one painted on his shield.

"I know, ser. You have always served my father and family well. And I have no reason to believe otherwise."

"They will not cross the river," Myles Mooton promised. He wheeled his warhorse about and raised a hand. Trumpets sounded, a drum began to boom, and Ser Myles Mooton led his men out from Aegon's main camp at the Trident to the fortifications a bare few leagues north of his position to prevent any crossing there. They rode out with lances raised and banners streaming.

I hope you hold the banks, Ser, Aegon thought as he watched them go. This will be our last stand in this war.

Aegon had sent his best men to hold the fords along the Trident, himself holding the center at the crossing nearby the crossroads and sending Ser Jonothor Darry to hold the crossing to the south in the fords upriver and Ser Myles to the hold the fording in the north. He had taken the best of his strength at the front lines to hold the river and prevent Andrew Stark from crossing. He had taken every able-bodied man for the fords, leaving Lord Renfred Rykker to hold Harrenhal and command a light garrison and take charge of the camp made up of the wounded, the old, and the sick, along with a few squires and some untrained peasant boys still shy of manhood. The meager garrison he had left at Harrenhal would not be near enough to hold a castle as massive as Harrenhal, but Aegon was not expecting any imminent attack on the castle. And Harren's monstrosity could easily withstand any assault that it might face.

When the last of Ser Myles' foot had shuffled past the wooden stakes which served as the barricade to his camp, Ser Willem Darry asked, "What shall we do now, your grace?"

"We wait." Aegon turned away from his place and made back to his pavilion. He expected an attack in a week's time. His scouts had seen riders flying the direwolf banners of House Stark from the tips of their lances and he also received reports of a massive army coming out of Riverrun. Lord Jon sent word that he received the same reports as well. The letters he had sent Aegon said as much. Reading those letters made his remember Stoney Sept and how he had let the Stormlords make it to Riverrun. The thought of the ruse still left a bad taste in his mouth. He had won a battle that day, but lost more than he had gained. Could this be another one of his cousin's trick as well? He could never be at two places at once...or could he?

Either way, the Prince of Dragonstone had decided to face the rebel in battle, whether he comes his way or not. When he took Rhaegal to flight to confirm his suspicions he had gazed at the dust cloud left by the rebel forces as they thundered their way over to him. Aegon had half a mind to take the battle to them and bring fire and blood to them as they were still marching off to war. Yet the thought of a hidden trap and the dishonour that might come with such an attack had made him return to his camp in peace. He will not have it said that Aegon Targaryen feared meeting Andrew Stark in battle and had him killed while the King was still dressed in a tunic. He will not make a martyr out of the rebel like his father had done his.

He would do his duty to his father and the realm and put this rebellion down for good. It was expected of me after all, he thought. He had seen the destructions this war had brought forth and Aegon knew it was the prince's duty to serve his realm and save his people. And when that was done maybe he will bring his brother back from the Wall. His mother would no doubt like to see him. And Jaehaerys' presence might brighten her moods as well. The last Aegon had seen his mother she was terribly disturbed by his brother's fate in the north. He had seen her in her need for prayer before the heart tree at the godswood of the Red Keep, not a true weirwood but a tall and serene oak in its stead. Aegon had found her murmuring a prayer for him and another for his brother off beyond the Wall. When he had told her his goodbyes she had clutched him with such a strength that it took him a good deal of time before she would let go. He wondered how she was of is she was fine.