Apologies for the late updates. Been at class and had been doing some other works. I know I have been neglectful with the updates and I apologise.
But we are back off to a good Start and I wish to also ask you to check out my new page. https://www.patreon.com/c/DarthVenere Got some new stories my friend help me write over there.
For Advance Chapters
Join My Patreon https://www.patreon.com/c/gs9gosohard/membership
One Man to Rule them
------------------
299 AC
Half a mile away from the twins.
"Are your all your men ready commander?"
"Yes Commander ", Captain Arik nodded to the man. He was in charge of the other northern forces that had been waiting on the northern side of the Twins. Approximately over 3000 men, Calvary infantry and archers alike.
When the signal was given their frey allies would open the gates and they'd flood to the other side to join in on the fighting.
The bolton soldiers had been informed of their mission well enough.
They were to kill as much freys as they could, the freys at the castle's gates as soon as they entered. The freys inside the keep and any stark ally that tried to hinder them .
In truth the Starks soldiers weren't really the target, it was its leaders. Getting to them would not only see them captured, but to also gain obedience from the other houses through blackmail of their kin.
Domeric Bolton had instructed them to prioritize capturing as many of their northern companions as possible and to kill the Frey men once the battle reached its climax. The Freys would initiate the treachery of their combined betrayal, and the Bolton lord would simply finish it. They would finish it all.
—— —— ——
Within the Frey keep
Main Hall
"Not a fan of wine, Lord Bolton?" Catelyn Stark asked the observant lord.
She had noticed that neither he nor his bannermen were drinking—at least, not nearly as much as Robb's own bannermen.
The Freys were the same as well. They too were not drinking, which seemed like a rather suspicious thing to do at a wedding they themselves hosted.
The music was terrible. The bards and minstrels—if they could even be called that—were perhaps the worst she had ever heard.
Morning roosters sounded better than them all, and that was a sound that was horrible in and of itself.
Deep down in her heart, however, she felt that something was off. A feeling of dread had hung over her since the wedding began, and it only deepened once the husband and wife were taken away for the bedding ceremony.
Robb had left his wife, Jeyne Westerling—the Queen—and his daughter-in-law back at the Crag, thinking it would be an insult to bring her here to Lord Walder's refuge. She was another reason Robb had not married Roslin Frey, after all.
"I'm not one to indulge in the hospitality of a Frey, Lady Stark, no matter the allies they claim to be. I neither like Lord Walder, nor does he like me, nor shall I pretend otherwise," Domeric said, half-lying to the woman.
"Bah! You are too petty," the Blackfish muttered from her right to the young lord.
But Domeric paid him no mind.
To the Bolton lord, it was not required that he explain himself to either him or her—but since these would be their last moments on this earth, why not entertain her taunts?
Feigning quiet indifference, Domeric returned to the silent disposition he was well known for, ignoring the two Tully relatives before glancing toward Lord Frey, who sat there looking semi-cheerful and cynical, as if he were not about to kill his king in the next few moments.
Domeric's eyes met his for a moment, and within that second a silent understanding passed between the two men.
They both knew it was time.
Catelyn was neither ignorant nor blind to their unseen gesture, and her expression shifted into something uneasy.
"If you will excuse me, my lady," Domeric said as he rose from the table, bowing slightly before turning to leave.
The Bolton heir had been seated at a table with Lady Stark, Brynden Tully—the Blackfish—his uncle Roger Ryswell, Lord Bout, and Lord Cerwyn.
Catelyn had noticed his close associates as well, both at and behind their table, doing the same thing. One by one they left through the same passage the Frey servants normally used to enter and exit, bringing food and wine to the great hall—the same passage that led to the privies, kitchens, quarters, and deeper into the Frey holdfast.
His two red guards, however, remained at the table, much to her surprise. From what she had seen of the man, they did not—if ever—leave his side. They were like shadows to him, yet here they stayed without him giving them an order as he departed to do the Seven knew what.
At that moment, as The Rains of Castamere began to play, Lord Walder Frey slowly stood—unsteady, yet upright nonetheless—with a silver goblet raised in his hand.
"Your Grace," Walder Frey said loudly, his voice carrying across the hall.
Almost everyone present began knocking on the tables with their hands or cups in cheer.
At that, the Frey lord gestured with his hand for the music and knocking to stop.
"I've given you meat… wine and music, but I haven't shown you the hospitality you deserve. My king has married, and I owe my new queen a wedding gift. Though she might not be here, she will certainly accept this nevertheless," he uttered in an old man's shaky tone.
Catelyn saw it.
In the gallery above them to the left, where the minstrels played, she saw one of the singers reach down and grab a crossbow lying at his feet between the small wooden gaps of the balcony.
Robb had now been standing in the center of the hall as Walder addressed him, out in the open—for anything to happen, for a bolt to reach him.
"This wasn't real!" she thought, and yet her worst fears came to light.
Several of the men stood simultaneously, crossbows aiming down at the crowd and at Robb from their gallery.
She also looked to the right gallery, and it was the same—men armed with crossbows.
"Robb!" she cried out desperately, trying to warn him, but it was too late.
Few of the Northmen in the hall had a chance to react, and drunk as many of them were, they were cut down in droves. The Freys sitting among them had drawn knives, swords, and daggers against their former allies and started to butcher them.
Blackfish and Lord Cerwyn which sat near her saw themselves disarmed and killed by the l two red guards that remained . Their movements quick and aggressive.
A spray of her uncle's blood had splattered on her face and she was thrown into shock before she felt a horrible pain.
A sword of the Bolton's personal guard had exited through her chest.
She was stabbed in the back before she even got the chance to run. A chance to warn them all.
She saw the chaos that was ensuing, she took a glance right and saw her son being filled with crossbow bolts even as it seemed like he was already dead.
And as she turned again to the same passage that lord Bolton exited, he now returned as Frey and bolton men flooded the halls. And even more of his red enameled guards surrounded him.
—— —— —— —-
On the outside of the castle in the camps.
"We have been betrayed! Lord Frey has set us up!" a soldier shouted—a man Domeric had tricked into warning the rest of the camp about the Frey treachery, but who was unaware of the part where the Bolton men were also involved.
There wasn't much reaction at first, as the Frey lieutenants hadn't yet received the signal from Lothar Frey.
Unknown to them, one of Domeric's men had already killed Lothar, along with a few others, while they were on their way to deliver standing orders.
Yet chaos ensued nonetheless. Even without the full command, some men who had heard the commotion inside began their attack on the Stark camp.
Three feast tents collapsed and were set aflame with torches —having been oiled earlier by the now-deceased Lothar. Men burned alive in the inferno.
The Frey soldiers struck quickly against their drunk and surprised opponents, and within minutes, the Stark army had been reduced by a quarter of its original numbers.
The Northern Gate
"Hey! What are you doing? We're allies!" the Frey gatekeeper screamed.
Varro, the Grandmaster of the Red Guards, had already cut his former companion in two, like he was butter.
The other men wasted no time in killing the gatekeepers before they could make another scene. They needed to bring the full legion across the bridge and through the southern castle to enter the battle zone.
The signal had been given. They were now on the move.
----------------------------
Please Also check out my other Story Game of Thrones The Gray Falcon, On webnovel.
https://www.webnovel.com/book/35144864500891905
-------------------
For Advance Chapters
Join My Patreon https://www.patreon.com/c/gs9gosohard/membership
One Man to Rule them
------------------------