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Walder Frey tapped his cup against the table.
"Your Grace," he drawled, "perhaps my hospitality has been lacking. I have offered wine, meat, and music… but not yet the gift a king deserves."
"The king has wed. I owe the queen a present."
His tone was slow. Almost amused.
At that moment, Catelyn noticed something strange.
Roose had returned to his seat.
The way his arm rested on the table was too stiff. Too heavy.
Catelyn's eyes narrowed.
She reached forward and flipped back his sleeve.
Chainmail.
Under his wedding finery.
Everything became clear.
This had been arranged long ago.
Bolton was not merely aware.
He was complicit.
She rose and struck him across the face.
The crack echoed.
Bolton did not retaliate.
He did not argue.
He turned and fled.
Pride meant nothing now.
Survival did.
"Robb!" Catelyn cried.
Her voice carried only despair.
It was over.
A dead end.
Robb still had not fully understood what was happening.
Confusion flickered across his face—
Then—
Behind Talisa Maegyr, a serving man drew a dagger from his sleeve and lunged.
Before he could strike—
A thunderous crash shook the hall.
A massive section of the roof collapsed.
Dust exploded outward.
From the wreckage descended a blue-armored figure.
He landed directly behind Talisa.
The assassin vanished beneath shattered timber and steel.
Crushed.
"Stupid Robb—catch!"
Jimmy hurled Talisa toward Robb.
In one motion he overturned a heavy oak table.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
With impossible speed he dragged more tables into place, forming a crude barricade around Robb, Catelyn, Talisa, and a lone female guard.
Bolton, halfway to the exit, froze.
"The Laughing Tree…" he breathed.
"Archers!" Walder screamed.
The old man's fear showed at last.
He barked the order—and fled for the rear passage with startling agility.
For a man his age, he moved remarkably fast.
Bolton followed.
The sure victory had just become uncertain.
And uncertainty meant danger.
Arrows flew.
Bolts slammed into the oak.
Some punched through the wood.
Several struck Jimmy.
Sparks burst.
Metal rang.
Then heavy infantry advanced.
Jimmy muttered darkly, "I hate bodyguard duty."
"Horus—deal with the archers."
A red blur swooped through the shattered roof.
Horus dove into the hall.
Bolts clanged off iron-hard feathers.
He struck with talon and beak, tearing through crossbowmen.
He did not unleash dragonfire.
Even he understood—this was rescue, not annihilation.
Jimmy's hand flashed.
A massive warblade appeared.
He had slain a god in Valyria.
Mortal soldiers did not frighten him.
Before him stood Walder Frey's elite.
Heavy infantry.
Long pikes braced.
Ranks tight.
Disciplined.
On the narrow bridge of the Twins, this formation could stop cavalry cold.
Tonight—
It faced one man.
When the heavy infantry advanced, they had thought it excessive.
Four tables, four people.
Advance slowly, compress them into the corner, pin them.
Routine work But the moment steel met steel, they understood their mistake.
They had thought they were hunting a wolf.
They had cornered a dragon.
Jimmy's blade swept once.
The pike shafts thick, hardwood poles that would take an axe ten strokes to sever split like straw.
He stepped forward.
Pike blocks shattered.
Men split in half armor and all.
Rank after rank collapsed.
Behind the heavy infantry stood light swordsmen, meant to finish the wounded.
They hesitated.
If the armored front line died in a single stroke, what hope did they have?
"Clang!"
A table was overturned from within the barricade.
A towering Northern woman rose—nearly six feet tall, murder in her eyes.
In her left hand, a wine jug.
In her right, a dining knife.
"Kill them!"
Jimmy yanked his blade free from a line of impaled Frey soldiers.
"Kill what?" he muttered.
Then he heard it—
"Robb!"
"Your Grace!"
Jimmy froze.
Out of four tables.
Four.
Three shielding the sides. One overhead.
A gap no wider than a finger.
Two crossbow bolts had slipped through.
One was buried in Robb's shoulder.
The other lodged beneath his ribs.
The angle was terrible.
Even pulling them free risked fatal bleeding.
Jimmy stared.
"Are you cursed?" he muttered.
Above—
Screams.
Bodies fell through the ruined roof.
Then—
Boom.
Clay jars shattered across the hall.
Oil.
Horus's voice cut through the chaos.
"If you don't move now, they'll roast."
Jimmy exhaled sharply.
"Fine."
He scooped Robb, Catelyn, Talisa, and the female guard in one sweeping motion and hurled them through the hole in the roof.
Outside—
Gasps.
Then a shadow expanded.
Horus enlarged midair, talons catching the falling figures.
As he rose, he loosed a blast of dragonfire.
The men hurling oil jars at the hall vanished into ash.
Behind Jimmy—
The feast hall ignited.
Flames swallowed timber.
Heat surged.
Jimmy walked through it.
Hundreds of degrees meant nothing to him.
He emerged wreathed in fire.
Across the yard—
The bridge.
The Twins' heart.
Jimmy bared his claws.
"If I can't rewrite the ending, I can at least rearrange the set."
He vaulted onto the Water Tower.
"Stop him!"
Arrows rained down.
They bounced off him harmlessly.
Stones followed.
He punched one aside like a toy.
Claws bit into brick and mortar.
He dug.
Like a mole through soil.
Stone blocks tore free.
The tower groaned.
Cracks spidered through its base.
Soldiers on the bridge screamed.
"The tower's falling!"
Heavy infantry rushing from the south saw it too late.
The Water Tower leaned.
Then collapsed.
With a thunderous crash.
The bridge Walder Frey's lifeline shuddered beneath the impact.
Jimmy stood amid dust and ruin.
Breathing fire.
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~Support with 200 PowerStones = 1 Bonus Chapter
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