Chapter 273 259: The Battle of the The Trident

Along a gentle bend in the upper reaches of the The Trident, the wind blew through the withered yellow reeds on the banks, making a rustling whimper.

The light from the sky cast down through the gaps in the clouds; it was not warm, but it was enough to illuminate the two Northern armies converging on the riverbank.

The direwolf banners and the merman banners fluttered in the wind, standing opposite each other.

Beneath the banners stood Northern Soldiers, travel-worn yet still maintaining a disciplined military appearance.

Robb Stark reined in his warhorse, his cloak billowing behind him.

His blue eyes scanned the crowd, landing on the figure beneath the merman banner opposite him.

Wylis Manderly, the heir to White Harbor, spotted the King at almost the same moment.

He dismounted nimbly, tossed the reins to an attendant, and strode across the clearing between the two armies to Robb's horse, dropping to one knee.

"Your Majesty!" Wylis's voice was clear, though it carried a hint of exhaustion from the long march.

Robb immediately dismounted and stepped forward to help his loyal vassal up.

"Ser Wylis, there is no need for such formality. You have worked hard on this forced march."

Wylis stood up; he had inherited the House Manderly family's characteristic square face and firm jaw.

"Your Majesty's urgent summons must mean there is important business. I received the raven's message while en route and immediately diverted to join you, though I do not know..." His eyes held a questioning look.

Robb did not answer immediately. Instead, he walked side-by-side with Wylis toward a slightly higher bank nearby. Their personal guards tactfully spread out, maintaining a distance where they could not hear the conversation but could still provide protection at any moment.

Standing on this small mound, they could overlook the large army resting below.

The Soldiers took advantage of this brief convergence to water their horses, check their equipment, or gather in small groups to chew on hard bread with cold water.

"Roose Bolton," Robb began directly, his voice kept very low so only the two of them could hear, "has lost contact. The messengers I sent have not returned."

A flash of shock crossed Wylis's young face, quickly replaced by solemnity.

"How long has it been?"

"Long enough for a raven to make two round trips." Robb's gaze drifted toward the distance, and he suddenly fell silent.

The plan he had originally formulated was difficult to voice; the words stuck in his throat and did not fall for a long time.

Not long ago, Wendell Manderly had acted as bait to cover the main force's split and ultimately perished on the River Road.

Now, he was about to push another member of House House Manderly into a similarly perilous trap as bait.

But he had no room for maneuver.

Roose Bolton was completely out of contact, and Greatjon Umber was too reckless and impulsive. Looking around, the only person he could trust, use, and rely on to shoulder this responsibility was Wylis Manderly.

"I cannot wait any longer. Riverrun cannot wait. Therefore," he turned his head and looked directly into Wylis's eyes, "the bait mission originally intended for him now needs to be undertaken by you."

He hid nothing, clearly and quickly explaining the entire plan, as well as its most critical and dangerous part...

They needed a force of sufficient weight to move ostentatiously toward the The Trident, feigning an all-out effort to return to Riverrun. This would attract and pin down the main force Aegon Targaryen might have in ambush, creating an opportunity for the hidden Greatjon's unit.

"Lord Greatjon is peerless in bravery, the best blade to tear through enemy lines," Robb said candidly, his tone like that used with a trusted partner rather than a mere subordinate, "but this mission requires restraint, patience, and acting—not a reckless assault."

"He... is not suitable. Ser Wylis, I need someone clear-headed enough to control the situation. I can only entrust this to you."

Wylis listened in silence, looking down at the Soldiers below. Many of them were from White Harbor—young faces he knew well. This mission meant placing them in immense danger.

Robb followed his gaze, his voice dropping low: "I know it is perilous. What you will face is likely the most elite legion under the Targaryen banner."

"To actively step into a possible trap and then perform convincingly before a powerful enemy... it is like dancing on ice. One wrong step and you could be lost forever."

Wylis withdrew his gaze and looked back at the young King.

Robb's face showed a resolve beyond his years, but also a hint of exhaustion and pressure that was hard to hide.

This boy king's face still held traces of youth, yet he already bore the heavy burden of the entire war.

He remembered the instructions his father, Lord Wyman, had given before his departure: "The merman of White Harbor always follows the direwolf."

"Your Majesty," Wylis spoke.

"House House Manderly's ability to stand in the North and endure in White Harbor is entirely due to the protection and honor of the Stark ancestors. Without Stark, there would be no House Manderly today."

"To fight for House Stark and the King in the North is the House Manderly oath and my responsibility."

He straightened his back, his eyes burning with intensity: "I accept this mission. Whether it be luring the enemy or feigning defeat, as long as it opens up the situation for Your Majesty, Wylis Manderly and the Soldiers of House House Manderly will never shrink back."

Robb saw the loyalty and determination burning in Wylis's eyes.

He didn't say much, only reaching out to firmly grasp Wylis's forearm.

It was a gesture of recognition and trust between warriors and men. However, thinking of the subsequent dangers of the plan, the heaviness in his heart did not lighten.

The two were silent for a moment. Robb's gaze returned to the opposite bank and toward the fastest path to Riverrun further in the distance.

"Wylis, look ahead," Robb pointed to the southeast, his tone becoming serious. "The Green Fork bends there, forming a large area of marshy wetlands. Passage is basically limited to the high river embankments, with dense woodland on both sides."

"That is a natural ambush site and the fastest shortcut to Riverrun. I am certain that Aegon Targaryen's ambushers are almost certainly set up there, waiting for us to blunder in."

Wylis observed carefully in the direction he pointed and soon saw the logic, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Then we..."

"We will not go that way," Robb said decisively. "We cross the river."

"Cross the river?" Wylis was stunned. He thought quickly and then raised a question. "Your Majesty, there are no large ferries nearby. To cross the river, we would have to rely on requisitioning small boats and rafts from coastal villages, or even felling trees to build them on the spot."

"We have over ten thousand men and horses; it is impossible to gather enough boats in a short time. Moreover, the river is swift at this time of year; crossing itself is no easy feat."

"If we cross in batches, the army will be divided by the river, making it difficult to protect both ends. Once the enemy attacks while we are mid-crossing..."

"Exactly," Robb interjected, a sharp light flashing in his eyes.

"Precisely because crossing the river is dangerous and seemingly unwise, the enemy might be unable to resist attacking when we are at our most chaotic and vulnerable during the crossing."

Wylis was confused at first, then his eyes lit up as he understood Robb's intention: "Your Majesty means... we feign a crossing to lure the enemy?"

"To make them think there is an opportunity to come out from their ambush points and attack our mid-crossing troops?"

"Correct." Robb pointed to a bend downstream where the river was relatively wide and the current slightly slower.

"You will lead the main force there and then make a great show of requisitioning boats and preparing for a forced crossing. You can even send small units onto boats first to make it look like a trial crossing."

"Be flustered, appear urgent. Let those hidden eyes see the chaos and vulnerabilities caused by our difficulties in crossing."

He paused, his tone turning cold: "And I will personally lead all the cavalry to ambush the outskirts of the woods beforehand, waiting in concealment."

"Once the Targaryen ambushers see your unit mid-crossing and can't resist charging out to annihilate you on the riverbank... their backs will be completely exposed to my vanguard."

Wylis understood completely now.

This was a trap designed to turn the enemy's own tactics against them.

Using his own bait force to fish out a larger enemy ambush, and then having the main force led by Robb deliver a fatal blow to the enemies who thought they had succeeded.

The risk was immense, but if it succeeded, the reward was also great. Not only could they break the enemy's blockade of the relief route, they might even heavily damage one of their main forces.

"I understand," Wylis took a deep breath and struck his chest with his right hand. "I will not fail Your Majesty's trust!"

"Be careful in all things," Robb gave a final exhortation. "I need you, and the North needs every loyal warrior to return safely."

"Your Majesty, please take care as well," Wylis responded solemnly, his gaze sweeping over the direwolf banner behind Robb.

The two said no more and turned to walk down the mound.

The joined Northern army had already finished its brief rest and was regrouping into formation.

Under the orders of Robb and Wylis, this army of over ten thousand men set out once again. However, their direction was not the narrow embankment road that seemed like a shortcut, but along the riverbank toward the designated downstream bend.

The direwolf and merman banners marched side-by-side in the late autumn wind, pointing toward an unknown battlefield.

Meanwhile, deep within a muddy, damp, and densely wooded riverbank forest beside the shortcut to Riverrun that Robb had identified.

Commander Luke, the Commander-in-Chief of the Ash Company, stood with a furrowed brow before a table improvised from a tree stump, upon which was spread a simple parchment map of The Riverlands.

On the map, several paths were marked with charcoal, and one point was heavily circled—it was precisely the narrow embankment road on the outskirts of the woods where they were currently lying in wait.

Over eight thousand Soldiers of the Ash Company were hidden in this not-particularly-spacious woodland.

To hide their tracks, they had put in a great deal of effort, even enduring mud and insects for a long time.

Everyone was holding their breath, waiting for the Northern army to enter this carefully laid pocket.

However, they waited and waited, but no one came.

"My Lord!" A scout captain hurried through the mud, came before Commander Luke, and dropped to one knee.

"It is confirmed! The vanguard of the Northern army has completely deviated from the road leading here and turned downstream. Judging by their movements... they seem to want to cross the river somewhere downstream!"

"Cross the river?" Commander Luke's brow furrowed tightly.

He had received news of the Northern army moving in this direction a day ago. Logically, if they wanted to return to Riverrun as quickly as possible, taking this narrow embankment road was the best choice.

He had been waiting patiently, even worrying if he had been exposed, and had strengthened the concealment and counter-reconnaissance on the perimeter.

But now, the target had turned?

"Scout again! Confirm their specific movements, whether they are truly requisitioning boats and preparing to cross!"

Commander Luke ordered in a low voice, but the ominous premonition in his heart grew stronger.

Crossing the river? In this season, at this location?

Is the Northern commander mad? Or is there some other scheme?

Time slipped away bit by bit amidst waiting and doubt.

Every minute and every second made Commander Luke feel more tormented.

If the Northerners really succeeded in crossing the river, even if only partially, bypassing the preset battlefield here and striking directly at Riverrun, then the Golden Company currently assaulting Riverrun would be in danger!

Under a pincer attack, the consequences would be unthinkable.

The Prince had entrusted him with the heavy responsibility of blocking the enemy at the The Trident; he could not allow any slip-up on his end.

More importantly, the act of crossing a river itself was an extremely vulnerable and chaotic moment for an army.

If the Northerners were really crossing, and doing so in a hasty attempt... it was simply a godsend!

Attacking while they were mid-crossing was a temptation no general could resist.

Finally, another scout rushed over: "My Lord! It is confirmed! The Northern army is gathering on the riverbank about five miles downstream. They are driving away coastal villagers and collecting every boat, raft, and even door they can find! The vanguard already has dozens of men rowing toward the opposite bank in several broken boats! They... they are really crossing! It looks like a mess!"

Crossing! A hasty, chaotic crossing!

The last trace of hesitation in Commander Luke's eyes vanished.

He could wait no longer!

Whether the Northerners were taking a risky move out of stupidity or under pressure from Riverrun, this was a perfect tactical opportunity!

By attacking while they were mid-crossing and catching them off guard, he could achieve a resounding victory and crush this main Northern relief force in one fell swoop!

"Pass the order!" Commander Luke stood up abruptly, his voice decisive and exceptionally clear in the silent woods. "The entire army is to assemble immediately, abandon concealment, and advance at full speed toward the Northern army's crossing point downstream!"

"We will annihilate them on the riverbank before they can all get across!"

He paused and added to the adjutant beside him: "Immediately send out fast riders to inform Lord Henry at the highest speed! Tell him the Northern army is attempting to cross downstream and I have led the troops to intercept them. Request that he coordinate with our forces from the flank; we must completely annihilate this enemy force on the banks of the Green Fork!"

"Yes!" The adjutant and the messenger responded in unison, quickly turning and disappearing into the woods to relay the orders.

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