Inside the great hall.
Galon held Walder Frey firmly in his grasp, his cold gaze sweeping over the Frey soldiers slowly closing in.
His left hand tightened slightly around the old lord's throat.
Ninety-year-old Walder's face instantly turned crimson as a strained gasp escaped his lips.
"Order your men to fall back."
Galon loosened his grip just enough.
Walder sucked in several desperate breaths before frantically shouting at the armed soldiers throughout the hall.
"Back! All of you, fall back!"
"Did you hear me? Every one of you, get back!"
Then he turned toward Galon with a pleading smile.
"Lord Glover, this is all a misunderstanding. A misunderstanding!
Let me go, and I swear no one here will harm you."
Galon answered with nothing more than a contemptuous laugh.
Ignoring him completely, he led the northern lords and guards gathering around him toward the small chamber on the western side of the hall.
The moment they entered, Galon's eyes met those of Rodrik Harlaw, who stood near the entrance to the great hall.
One glance was enough.
Rodrik understood immediately.
He gave the slightest nod before signaling to the Ironborn at his side.
Taking advantage of the confusion, they quietly slipped out of the increasingly chaotic hall.
Following Galon's instructions, they hurried toward the stables beside the main gate without wasting a second.
Bang!
Sparta and Greatjon shoved a massive oak table across the doorway, blocking the entrance to the room and providing cover against Frey crossbows.
Black Walder, who had been directing the Frey soldiers, could only watch helplessly.
With Walder's life hanging in the balance, he dared not issue an all-out attack.
"Damn you! Glover, you coward!
What kind of hero hides behind an old man? Come out here and fight me one-on-one!"
Seeing the barricade firmly in place, Galon released Walder into the custody of his men, who continued holding the old lord hostage.
Hearing Black Walder's insults, Galon let out a scornful laugh.
"Heroes? You Freys dare speak to me about heroes?"
He stepped to the doorway, peering through the gaps between the tables directly at Black Walder.
"We accepted your invitation to this feast. And this is how House Frey treats its guests?
We shared your bread and your salt. By the laws of gods and men, you have no right to harm us.
And yet here you are."
He laughed coldly.
"You've thrown away every shred of House Frey's honor.
The realm will curse your names. People will wish to tear your flesh from your bones.
House Frey will be nailed forever to the pillar of shame."
His words stirred visible unrest among the Frey knights inside the hall.
Though they obeyed Walder's commands, few wished to become oathbreakers despised by gods and men alike, condemned by the Seven Kingdoms for generations.
Watching the hesitation spread through the room, Roose understood Galon's intentions immediately.
"He's stalling for time."
"Black Walder! Send your men in. Now!"
"Who dares!"
Galon's voice boomed through the chamber.
"If anyone takes another step, I'll cut off your lord's fingers.
You've already broken guest right. Will you betray the vows you've sworn as well?"
Knowing every second mattered, Galon gave one of his men a discreet signal.
A moment later, Walder let out a convincing scream of agony.
The effect was immediate. The knights who had begun advancing froze once again, completely at a loss.
Roose could only watch as the confrontation descended into a deadly stalemate.
Galon quietly exhaled.
Every second they gained now was priceless.
'Rodrik... Patrek...'
'Open those gates.'
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the castle... Rodrik led his fifty Ironborn swiftly toward the stables.
A flash of lightning briefly illuminated the courtyard.
In its glow, Rodrik spotted Patrek hiding within the shadows of the stable.
At the same moment, Patrek recognized Rodrik.
An unbelievable thought suddenly crossed his mind.
'So the Ironborn are Lord Glover's hidden card? How is that possible?'
'Weren't they sworn enemies?'
Looking at Rodrik approaching through the rain, Patrek's thoughts descended into complete confusion.
No matter how hard he thought back over his time with both Galon and Rodrik, he simply could not believe Rodrik had been Galon's secret ally all along.
Rodrik, however, had no time for explanations.
Every minute mattered.
He strode directly to Patrek. Skipping all unnecessary pleasantries, he spoke in a low voice.
"Ser Patrek. I'm here under Lord Glover's orders. What's the situation at the main gate?"
Patrek forced himself to suppress his confusion.
"Better than we expected."
He pointed toward the torchlit gate. "Because of the storm and the wedding feast, fewer than thirty guards remain."
"Lord Harlaw... what do we do now?"
Rodrik's eyes hardened. "What do we do? We kill every one of them. Fast."
With a single order, fifty Ironborn moved through the rain like sea monsters emerging from the deep.
Using the storm as cover, they silently advanced along the stable wall toward the castle gate.
Boom!
A deafening clap of thunder split the sky.
At that exact moment, the Frey guards finally noticed them.
"Hey!"
"What are you doing over there? Is everything finished at the hall already?"
The patrol captain called out with a relaxed smile.
But the instant Rodrik drew his greatsword, the captain realized something was terribly wrong.
"Wait... what are you doing?!"
"Attack!"
"Kill them!"
Rodrik answered only with steel.
Swinging his greatsword, he charged first.
The Ironborn slammed into the Frey guards. The rain swallowed the short, desperate screams.
Within moments, the defenders at the gate had been cut down.
"We've got the gate!"
"Lower the drawbridge!"
Several Ironborn rushed to the massive winch and began turning it with all their strength.
The heavy mechanism groaned.
With a long, grinding creak, the massive drawbridge slowly descended across the moat.
Rodrik stood nearby, eyes constantly shifting toward the rear as he waited for it to settle completely.
Barely a minute passed.
Yet to everyone present, it felt like years.
The instant the bridge touched down, Patrek seized a torch from the wall and sprinted to the gateway.
Following the signal Galon had instructed him to use, he raised the torch and swung it three times toward the darkness beyond the bridge.
Then he waited anxiously beside Rodrik and the Ironborn.
Every few moments he glanced nervously behind him, terrified another Frey might discover what was happening.
Fortunately, the downpour concealed everything.
With everyone's attention fixed on the great hall, no one noticed the gate.
Three minutes later...
Shapes suddenly emerged from the curtain of rain beyond the bridge.
Countless figures rushed silently through the darkness like ghosts returning from the underworld.
Lord Rickard rode at the head of the cavalry.
Crossing the drawbridge first, he reined in before the gate.
"Lord Harlaw! Ser Patrek!"
Water streamed from his armor as he looked toward the firelit castle beyond.
"What's the situation? Is Lord Glover still alive?"
Seeing wave after wave of infantry crossing through the rain and mud, Rodrik finally released the breath he'd been holding.
"Lord Glover is still holding the Freys in the great hall. We have to reach him immediately."
Patrek quickly added, "Lord Karstark, we have to seize the bridge tower. It's the key to controlling both castles."
Rickard had already planned for that.
"Ser Patrek. I'm giving you eight hundred men. Take the bridge tower."
He immediately turned to another commander.
"Ser Manderly. Take the White Harbor men and secure the gate.
As for everyone else...
Split your forces.
One group clears the western castle. The other goes straight to the great hall and rescues Lord Glover.
Understood?"
Everyone nodded.
"Move! Take the Twins!"
At Rickard's command, seven thousand soldiers surged into the castle like the raging waters of the Green Fork.
The sounds of battle exploded across the Twins.
__________
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