Game of Thrones: Frozen Fire

Freedom

Waiting for news seemed to make the time go slower. Of course, Robb knew quite well that, in order to keep the secrecy of his mission, Jorah Mormont could not communicate with him. Meanwhile, men around the camp murmured about the traitor, about the food and horse he had stolen and how he had ridden away in the middle of the night.

Robb never corrected anyone. He just hoped the rescue would come to fruition, because he was already losing his mind. He feared that he would start losing battles not long after and then the war. Impatience costing him a war sounded sad and pathetic. Dany would think so. She would clear his head better than his uncle Brynden with his harsh words and good intentions. She would tell him the right word or discuss his worries with him.

Luckily for him, battle had eased part of his nerves as the Blackfish had told him. At Ashemark, his army had achieved a relatively easy victory a while ago, taking the castle and making more advances in his plan to attract Tywin Lannister to the West. They had settled there for a few days after his return to plan their next move.

He still believed that as soon as that happened, he could call the armies of Dorne and the ones from Crackclaw Point to siege King's Landing. With that he would take prisoners and exchange them for whatever Tywin had left at that point.

"Getting ready?" His uncle Edmure asked when he entered the room Robb had taken as his. He was wearing a small smile, as if something deserved it.

Robb couldn't remember the last time he had stopped scowling at the map laid in the sturdy table in front of him. Or, well, he could but that led him to daydream about waking to almost freezing mornings in Winterfell, with a beautiful woman in his arms.

"Soon," was Robb's gruff reply.

"The war will end soon, Nephew."

Robb looked up and sighed heavily.

His uncle had cost him more than a few men and the chance to end this war once and for all while he had been returning from Winterfell. Biting back the bile that had risen up his throat, Robb had to forgive him. Edmure had won a battle not knowing that by losing they would have been leading Tywin directly into their territory. Robb knew they could have easily defeated a weakened army but that never happened.

All that did not mean he was not bitter.

"Are you prepared?" the younger man decided to ask, instead of wondering once again how he, who was called a boy, could see more into a strategy than a man ten years older than him. Maybe he had been raised to be a soldier, maybe it was in the blood of the Starks.

"I am."

They had plans to attack by morning. It was not supposed to be a problem since a scout had only seen a small army a few leagues away. They could easily win, if they only compared numbers. But a battle was a battle, and it was not won until it was finished.

Nodding, Robb stood straight and looked into his uncle's eyes. "I'll be ready at first light. Let them come near us, it will be easier for us to show them how comfortable we are in their lands."

-o-

It was his fault. He had been distracted lately and that did not help him, not even if Grey Wind and Rhaegal were at his side, protecting him as loyally as always. Being as angry as he was, trying to let go of his fury by brandishing a sword and killing enemies had seemed like the perfect idea. That was until his rage blinded him and he failed to see the man attacking him with a spear.

He fell from his horse, with the spear still lodged in his leg, but he did not really know if he felt pain or just numbness. He saw Grey Wind ferociously jumping on the man and sinking his teeth on the man's shoulder, he was promptly followed by Rhaegal who ended the man's existence with fire.