The King of Winters

Chapter-115

Andrew

Two days' ride away from the Kingsroad towards the eastern side of the Riverlands, they passed through a wide swath of destruction, miles of blackened fields and orchards where the trunks of dead trees jutted into the air like archers' stakes. The bridges were burnt as well, and the streams swollen by autumn rains, so they had to range along the banks in search of fords. The nights were alive with howling of wolves, but they saw very little people.

The farther they had come from Kingsroad, the emptier the road had been. The only travelers they'd glimpsed had melted away into the woods before they reached them, save for a big, bearded septon they met walking south with twoscore footsore followers. Such inns as they passed had either been sacked and abandoned or turned into armed camps. Yesterday they had encountered one of Lord Stannis' patrols, bristling with longbows and lances. The horsemen had brought them the word of the fall of Maidenpool to Lord Stannis' assault. The captain had also warned them of outlaws in the area before being let them continue on their way. "The lands east of the Trident are crawling with a hundred outlaws, your grace, and it's said they're raping every wench they come upon and cutting off their teats for trophies. Lord Stannis has set to clear these lands off the roaches."

Andrew rode with Lord Arryn with the main column of his army trailing behind him. He had not expected Maidenpool to fall so quickly and easily, especially with the modest force he had sent with Lord Stannis. The last reports he had received of Maidenpool were that the Mootons were raising a new army from their fiefs around Maidenpool and that the castle was being held by a strong garrison.

Andrew had expected the castle to resist for some time if it wasn't for long. He needed Maidenpool in order to secure his supply lines and lines of communication before moving towards King's Landing. The others had ridden off to subdue the other castles and holdfasts along the way, both the castles of leal lords taken by the dragons and that of the ones who supported Rhaegar.

Andrew had taken the eastern route, starting with the Mootons of Maidenpool who was the most powerful of Rhaegar's supporters in the Riverlands. Lord Robert had swung west and Lord Hoster continued along the Kingsroad along with his brother. Lord Arryn and his son accompanied Andrew on his mission, along with Lord Stannis. Half way along he had sent Lord Stannis ahead to scout the way in front of them and to mayhaps scatter the new forces before they are being formed.

The latter would be an easier task. To take the castle in such a short time however, was something he was not expecting to hear at all and so soon at that.

At his camp near the God's Eye, Andrew had split his army into three parts once again to quickly capture and secure the area. And they had planned to undertake a three pronged attack from all sides and have the city encircled along with all the men inside it with no chance for retreating behind anywhere else. He was determined to trap Rhaegar in the capital and make his end there. And so it was settled on the day before they split off. Andrew followed the road to Maidenpool and then from there would take the Duskendale road along the coast with the fleet brought by his uncle from Oldtown shadowing them with all the supplies.

It was the longer and slower route he took, but the most essential one in order to remove every help to King's Landing and isolate the capital.

A half mile on, green began to creep back into the world once more. Andrew was glad. The burned lands reminded him too much of the effects of this war.

The sun was half-hidden behind a bank of clouds when they emerged from the tall trees to find Maidenpool before them, with the deep waters of the bay beyond. The town's gates had been rebuilt and strengthened but the effects of the battering ram Lord Stannis' men had used to break through was still there where wood had been chipped off and metal bands had been caved in, Andrew saw at once. Crossbowmen in golden and grey cloaks walked its pink stone walls once more. Above the gatehouse floated his royal banner, the grey direwolf rearing on white. Other banners displayed the Baratheon stag, but the red salmon of House Mooton flew only from their castle on its hill.