Game of Thrones: From the War of the Five Kings

What followed was a continuous argument, with every noble having the right to speak, each convinced their plan was excellent and stubbornly adhering to it.

Robb Stark looked from one to another, his thoughts constantly shifting.

He was willing to listen to every vassal's opinion, but the choice and the heavy responsibility that came with it belonged to the King.

Time gradually passed, and Abel, who had been ordered to prepare food, now entered the Banquet Hall with some captive women, carrying the prepared dishes.

Smelling the aroma wafting through the air, the lords all closed their mouths.

Tender, smooth fried eggs, fragrant bacon, soft and delicious freshly baked whole wheat bread, and vegetable salad drenched in sauce.

When these foods were piled plate by plate, basin by basin, and basket by basket on the table, the previous bickering was entirely replaced by the sounds of chewing and swallowing.

When the rich, white, and delicious fish soup was served, the slurping sounds of drinking soup also joined in.

After receiving the order, Abel, accompanied by the handsome young Connor and the gray-bearded, mature, and steady Mason, directly held steel swords to Bernard Langley's neck, ordering him to arrange for servants to prepare food for the lords.

At Connor's suggestion, after the food was prepared, Langley was also required to taste it first.

Mason told him that if there were any problems with the food, then everyone in the Lannister of Ox Town would pay the price of their lives for this small "mistake."

That meant everyone!

Including servants and guards.

With the skillful cooperation of the three, the task was completed quite smoothly.

At least, the lords who had fought all night were quite satisfied with their meal.

Robb Stark swallowed the mixture of fat and flour in his mouth, subtly glancing at Edward Carter sitting beside him.

His Hand of the King had not spoken since the meeting began, which was unusual.

So, he suddenly said, "Edward Carter, as my Hand of the King, do you have any suggestions for the upcoming battle?"

Hearing this, the other nobles also put down their food and looked at Edward, wanting to hear his insights.

Almost everyone here knew about the Hand of the King.

Especially Jonathan Strong, he always felt that he was the first lord to stand up and support Robb becoming King, so why didn't he have a special title?

Instead, this young man from House Carter, who had been so inconspicuous, actually became some kind of Hand of the King?!

Jonathan was a hundred percent displeased.

Edward put down his bread, saw everyone in the room staring at him, smiled, and said, "Suggestions? Margaret Stone's idea is very good; send out cavalry to round up all the livestock in the vicinity, which can significantly weaken the enemy's productivity."

Margaret, seeing her suggestion validated, unconsciously pursed her lips.

"However, for our objective, our march speed must be fast, so my suggestion is to only keep the horses. The rest can be slaughtered to meet the daily needs of the soldiers. If they eat well, their combat effectiveness and desire to fight will naturally be higher."

Margaret was stunned, her brows furrowed tightly.

Just as she was about to retort, she saw the King nod, so she swallowed her words.

Robb Stark expressed agreement, but his eyes remained fixed on Edward.

That wasn't what he wanted to hear.

"As for capturing castles and seizing gold mines, these things are of little help to our strategic objectives."

Jonathan snorted in displeasure.

Brendan Blackwell, on the other hand, looked at Edward with a puzzled expression, then patiently waited to hear what he would say.

"Gentlemen, look at what Tywin, that old lion, has done in the past. How long have we held the Kingslayer? He must have received the news immediately, but has there been any reaction?

"Nothing at all, simply ruthless."

Saying that, Edward picked up his portion of fish soup, cleared his throat, and continued.

"The old lion is so indifferent even to his only somewhat normal biological son, let alone those scattered vassals of no major consequence, and even more so the insignificant commoners."

As soon as the words fell, the small Banquet Hall was once again filled with a buzzing murmur of discussion.

Everyone was whispering to their neighbors, but no one offered a rebuttal.

Edward was not afraid of them refuting him.

If things followed the original trajectory, burning, killing, and looting in the Westerlands while waiting for Tywin to come to the rescue would take too long.

Edward simply couldn't afford to wait.

The decisive battle between Robb Stark and Tywin Lannister must not wait until Renly's death.

Because with Littlefinger's efforts, House Tyrell, having lost its supporters, would definitely side with the Iron Throne.

This was something Edward could not change, no matter how hard he tried.

According to what he knew, by then, the 50,000 strong army from the Reach, plus the 20,000 soldiers Tywin held in his hand, would total a staggering 70,000 men!

And after successive losses, the North and Riverlands combined could at most muster an army of only 30,000.

Not to mention that Dorne, thanks to the Little Devil's efforts, would also feign support for the Iron Throne.

With such a disparity in strength, plus the commander being Tywin Lannister, that cunning and cautious old lion.

Even if they tried to compete in war potential, they simply couldn't win!

The North was about to be attacked by the Iron Islands; it was only a matter of time.

This battle wouldn't even need to be fought.

Now, no raven had brought news of Renly's death, so Edward felt it necessary to speed things up and force Tywin to leave Harrenhal with his army as soon as possible.

Then, a decisive battle would be fought near Golden Tooth, with the 30,000 strong North and Riverlands alliance fighting the 20,000 strong Westerlands, using their numerical advantage to play a big game!

Thinking of this, Edward put down his empty soup bowl and tapped the table several times, bringing silence back to the Banquet Hall.

"I believe His Majesty needs a quick and effective suggestion at this moment."

As he spoke, Edward first glanced at Robb Stark beside him, then swept his gaze over the lords and officers.

"Then, what we need to do next is very clear: besiege Lannisport. This city is the apple of Tywin's eye, absolutely more important to Lannister than the Kingslayer. If he hears this news, he will definitely rush back without delay."

As soon as these words were uttered, the entire Banquet Hall first fell silent, then immediately came out voices of opposition.

Brendan Blackwell, the "Blackfish," said with an incredulous expression, "Boy, are you crazy? We only have at most eight thousand men, and they are all cavalry. We don't have enough troops to besiege Lannisport. The enemy commander, seeing us, will probably laugh his head off and won't even write a letter requesting aid to Tywin."

When he was in Riverrun, he thought Edward Carter was an excellent young man.

He could calmly analyze the situation and was exceptionally brave in battle!

Now he had given such an unwise suggestion!

Jonathan also showed a disdainful expression, scoffing, "I thought there would be some brilliant idea. Why don't you suggest besieging Casterly Rock? That's the Lion's ancestral castle; perhaps Tywin would be even more anxious."

"If you could make us fly like birds, we could besiege King's Landing right now—no, the Red Keep. Wouldn't all problems be solved then?"

His words were full of dismissive laughter.

Indeed, with their current forces, even besieging Lannisport was insufficient, let alone Casterly Rock.

As for flying, it was even more absurd.

The other lords also shook their heads, and although they did not openly mock or reject it, they similarly believed it was not a good plan.

Robb Stark also patiently advised, "Carter, you should understand that we don't have enough troops to pose a threat to Lannisport. Do you have any other ideas?"

If Theon hadn't died, it would have been great. As long as he returned to the Iron Islands successfully, he would have the Iron Fleet to coordinate from within.

Then this plan could still be executed.

What a pity!

Edward waved his hand, signaling everyone to be quiet.

The lords, giving face to the King, all closed their mouths.

Once the tent quieted down, Edward continued, "My lords, don't forget, our main goal is to make Tywin, that old lion, leave Harrenhal, not to actually capture Lannisport."

"More importantly, the enemy doesn't know how we got to the Westerlands, nor do they know how many troops we have. So, we can completely mislead the Lannisport defenders, making them think we have ample forces."

"As for the method…"

At this point, Edward stood up and leaned close to Robb Stark's ear, softly explaining the plan he had pondered for a long time.

The King of the North was stunned, thinking for a long time before looking at Edward and murmuring, "Will this work?"

"Trust me, even if it doesn't succeed, there won't be much risk, and it won't waste too much time. By then, we can still choose Brendan's plan."

"But if it succeeds, Your Majesty, our strategic objective will be achieved immediately."

Edward promised with firm eyes.

In his heart, however, he said, even if it doesn't work, I will never let you go to Crag's Watch, lest you get entangled with the girls of House Westerling.

And no nurse from Volantis either.

Beside him, Brendan Blackwell was filled with curiosity.

He really wanted to know what kind of plan would make Robb think that attacking Lannisport at this time was a good idea.

The other lords' gazes were all directed towards Robb Stark; they were waiting for the King's command.

"Alright."

After a moment of thought, the young King of the North nodded, saying with a firm tone, "My lords, have the soldiers rest quickly. At dawn two days from now, we will march to Lannisport."

The risk of execution was low, and the potential gain upon success was immense. Robb Stark had no reason not to try.

"As you command, Your Majesty."

"For the North."

"For Winterfell."

"For Stark."

The lords shouted their slogans, picked up their food, and left the Banquet Hall.

Especially Jonathan, he stared at Edward Carter with incredulous eyes.

Clearly, he found it hard to believe that such a seemingly time-wasting battle plan could actually be adopted by the wise and mighty King.

Had the world gone mad?

But the order had been given, and he needed to prepare for war immediately.

Seeing that he had convinced Robb, Edward contentedly rubbed his belly and, after bidding farewell to the King, walked out of the Banquet Hall.

Then he found a random room on the first floor, collapsed onto the bed, and quickly fell asleep.

Outside, the sun had long risen high, its warm light illuminating the already chaotic Ox Town, dancing on the blood-stained blades of the soldiers.

Cries echoed endlessly from the burning houses.

...

Three days later.

Lannisport, located west of Casterly Rock.

The River Road, Golden Road, and Coastal Road, three main routes, converged here.

If not for the war, this place would surely be bustling with traffic, full of business opportunities, with gold and silver flowing into the Lannister family's coffers like the waters of the Sunset Sea.

Moreover, the population here was large, and young people from all over were willing to find a lively and prosperous place to seek opportunities.

Therefore, this was also one of the Lannister family's troop-generating points.

At this moment, Ser David Lane stood on the tall, white city walls.

He was the son of Stafford Lane, possessing the very standard golden-blonde hair of the Lion lineage, but his eyes followed his mother's, being brown.

He wore a set of finely crafted plate armor, with a red linen tunic bearing a golden Lion, and gripped a greatsword with both hands, his brows tightly furrowed as he looked at the distant camp flying the Running Wolf Flag.

There was also a trace of indelible sadness in his eyes.

Not long ago, Ser David had been stationed with Lord Tywin in Harrenhal, and had only returned to the Westerlands a week prior to assist his father in training new recruits.

Ser Stafford had ordered his son to go to Lannisport to recruit free companies, hedge knights, and some young men who wished to wield a sword.

And also to find a place to wash away his weariness.

Unexpectedly, just two days later, father and son were separated forever.

According to the fleeing routed soldiers, Robb Stark had attacked their camp with a pack of wolves, causing instant chaos, and the old knight was killed by the suddenly appearing Carter lord.

Even Ser Kevan's legitimate son, Martin Lane, did not escape this calamity, dying in the night raid that night.

Looking at a column of infantry slowly emerging from the forest, David Lane's eyes instantly blazed with fury.

Because the banner they carried was the black background with a white star, representing House Carter.

Their numbers were roughly around a thousand.

He did not believe the absurd talk of the enemy having a pack of wolves.

However, his father had believed himself absolutely safe in the Westerlands, and thus had not dispatched too many sentries.

This was likely the main reason for their demise.

"Come on! As long as you dare to attack the city walls, I will certainly make you pay."

Watching another column of infantry, carrying a green banner with a bear, slowly enter the Northern camp, David Lane secretly made up his mind.