Chapter 14: The Message
Loras
"Three dozen, no more. A few with bows and spears, but none with horses."
Loras considered the odds. He only had twenty men, but all where mounted, and if they moved quick enough they could catch the wildlings by surprise. "The snow might slow our charge. If we get bogged down we're useless."
Ser Lyonel Tyrell scoffed at the idea. "The wildlings are ill-disciplined. We charge over that hill they'll scatter as soon as they see us." Loras's cousin was freshly knighted and hadn't fought a day in his life. He was tall, thin, and extremely naive, just how Loras was a year before.
"I had no idea you were such an expert on the wildlings," Solio mocked, giving Lyonel an evil eye from the top of his horse. "Tell me, where did you learn about them? Have you fought them before? Or perhaps you read about them?" The tiny Tyroshi man seemed unaffected by the cold, even though we was bare chested.
"Quiet runt!" Lyonel said angrily. "You can not speak to me that way! I am the nephew of Lord Mace! You are a nobody!"
"Cousin, shut up and don't open your mouth again," Loras ordered, "Solio, the same goes for you unless you have something to add to the battle plan." Both of them did as ordered. Loras turned back to the scout, a Northerner, specifically a crannogman. Although Robb Stark was still frail from the lashing he had received from Stannis, he had ordered every crannogman who knew the Neck to scout for the Royal Army. They were proving invaluable. The wildling army had rolled over the North by virtue of it's size and the fact their were few soldiers left to oppose them. But now the Neck was breaking them up, and their lack of organization was truly showing. "What do you think?" he asked the short swamp dweller.
The Northman looked genuinely surprised by Loras's question. "The ground is frozen hard. You horses shouldn't have much trouble charging. But if the crannogmen were in this situation, they'd run for softer ground when they saw you coming."
Loras thought about it for a moment. "I don't think the wildlings will be as devious as crannogmen. We charge quick and kill who we can. If they run, we let them go. Understood?" The horsemen nodded. "Right then, do it quick!" Loras mounted his horse and waved away the lance his squire offered him. It would not be useful in a fight like this. Instead he drew his sword.
The horsemen moved quickly over the hill that had been hiding them from the wildlings. Loras's heart started beating faster as he looked at the savages' shocked expressions. He was in his element now. No petty disputes over title or having to talk with lowborns who had been raised to high. It was combat, pure and simple, with an enemy to kill out before him. He swept into the wildlings and slit one's throat almost casually from the back of his horse.
A second later an arrow buried itself in his horse's chest, and the poor beast slammed into the ground. Loras was on his feet faster than should have been possible in his thick war armor. He recovered just in time to bring his shield up and block the second arrow that was speeding towards his head. He looked for the shooter. There was a red-haired wildling woman preparing her axe just a few paces away. He moved as fast as he could and slashed at her. She dodged nimbly, then struck at him, but the blow did not have enough force behind it to pierce his armor. Loras moved quickly, smashing her with his shield then stabbing when she was thrown off balance. His blow disemboweled the woman, spilling her guts out into the snow.
The surviving wildlings fled for their lives and as Loras ordered, none of the horsemen pursued. The snow was stained red with wildling blood. "Any losses?" Loras asked, wiping his blade on the snow.
"No one," Solio said, sounding rather amazed.
"Good," Loras responded, "Let's get back to camp. I don't fancy our chances if we run into the main army."
* * *
It was well after nightfall when Loras's men arrived back at camp. Most of them shuffled away to get some rest, or find company for the night. Loras however, was approached by a man he recognized instantly. It was Ser Vortimer Crane, master-at-arms of Highgarden and the man who had taught Loras everything he knew with a sword. And a man who, the last time Loras had heard of him, was in Highgarden. "What are you doing here?" Loras asked.
"Your brother sent me with urgent news," the old fighter explained. Willas was serving as castellan of Highgarden while their father was away. "News that could not be trusted to a raven."
"What is it?" Loras asked, his curiosity piqued. He led Ser Vortimer into his own tent, in case the news was private.
"Willas has long been suspicious of the story that a Lannister assassin was sent to kill Renly. After all, it did very little to help them, as Stannis was just waiting to take over," the master-at-arms explained, sweat dripping down his brow. "Your sister never saw more than a shadow, even though she was in the tent with him. Your brother decided to investigate further. He could find no trace of this supposed assassin, no matter how many spies he hired. But he did find something else. A witness. Devan Seaworth, one of Stannis's squires, swears he saw something come from the tent of the Lady Melisandre the very same night Renly died. A living shadow, just as your sister describes. While it is possible Melisandre did this on her own, it is-"
"Impossible!" Loras shouted. He had been growing more and more angry as Vortimer went on, and now he could no longer contain himself. "She did it on Stannis's orders for Stannis's benefit! He used that witch's powers to kill Renly!" It made perfect sense. It was so obvious, Loras felt like a fool for not seeing it earlier. Stannis was a usurper, a kinslayer, and had assassinated the man he loved. Yet Loras had fought in his army, called him king, even got betrothed to his daughter. Loras wanted to charge the bastard's tent, cut down his kingsguard, and make him confess before slitting his throat, and the Red Woman's too.
But Loras restrained himself. He could face a kingsguard, or perhaps even two, but Stannis was surrounded by his army. He would have to wait. "Tell no one of this Vortimer, especially not my father."
"What are you going to do?" Vortimer asked.
"Soon enough we'll be fighting the main wildling force. There will be a battle," Loras grinned, "And in battle men die."
