The King of Winters

Chapter 75

Andrew

The Lord of Riverrun was a big man; tall and broad even in that age. His face was hard and his hair and beard had gone grey. Lord Hoster Tully looked worn and tired, battered by battle and haggard from strain. His neck was bandaged where he had taken a wound. His breastplate was scratched and dented from battle, his blue-and-red cloak stained by blood and smoke. He waited for Andrew at the yard of his castle. His lords waited with him and his guards as well. From the sandstone walls of the castle, soldiers and servants shouted down his name, and his father's, and "Winterfell!" King Eddard was well known in Riverrun but his son was not. He was pretty much sure that most of them was here only to see if he was real, to see if the Legend of the Born King was indeed true.

From every rampart waved the banner of House Tully: a leaping trout, silver, against a rippling blue-and-red field. Lord Hoster was flanked by his son and heir. Ser Edmure Tully was a stocky young man with a shaggy head of auburn hair and a fiery beard. At his side stood the Lord Tytos Blackwood, a hard pike of a man with close-cropped salt-and-pepper whiskers and a hook nose. His bright yellow armor was inlaid with jet in elaborate vine-and-leaf patterns, and a cloak sewn from raven feathers draped his thin shoulders. It had been Lord Tytos who led the sortie that broke the back of Garlan Tyrell's shieldwall.

Andrew cantered past the smallfolk and guards gathered to see him as he rode down his column on his way back inside Riverrun. The Greatjon flanked him on the right while Karstark followed him on the right. Ser Beric and his brotherhood followed him next and then his bannermen. Behind them came the men who'd put the castle under siege a week ago, all bound in chains and barred in the wagons.

"Lord Hoster," Andrew said. He dismounted and his men all followed after him.

"King Andrew," Lord Hoster replied.

Three men quickly came and took the horses away. When Ghost bounded out beside him, one of them dropped the reigns of his horse and lurched back, stumbling and sitting down abruptly in the yard. The horse whinnied and reared. The others laughed, and the man got a sheepish look on his face. Andrew quickly caught the reigns and calmed down the horse, rubbing its long neck.   He gave the reigns up to the man when he got up and patted him on the back, smiling.

"Thank you for coming to our rescue, my lord," the Lord of Riverrun said. "Riverrun is in your debt."

Andrew smiled at the man. "There's no need for that, my lord," he replied. "My father always said that we find true friends in our battlefield. So thank you for declaring for me."

Hoster Tully had forsaken Rhaegar the moment the tales of his arrival had started to spread from Winterfell. And it was for that reason the King on the Iron Throne had the Riverlands burned. He was the reason they were being held up in siege the first place and Andrew had not wanted to leave them to the Targaryen mercy. His father had never left an ally behind, so he shall not do so as well.

"I heard that Lord Arryn was already here, my Lord," Andrew continued while his men started bringing in the prisoners they had taken in the battle.

"Jon Arryn is here, yes," Hoster Tully replied. "We've sent boats to ferry them across the river to Riverrun. They will be here soon."

Andrew nodded.

The Lord of Riverrun eyed him once again, a surprised look passing over his hard features. "I didn't know your father as well as I knew your uncle or grandfather," he said, "but you do resemble him a lot."

"I hear that a lot," Andrew chuckled. "And I've brought some of your bannermen who couldn't make it in time to Riverrun when you called your banners." He turned around towards the men who had followed him. "Lord Jason and Ser Stevron," Andrew called and the two men stepped forward and bowed their heads to their liege lord.