She shot him a look, and Jaime refused to meet her gaze. Another pang of guilt hit him, then disappeared again. He was here to decide the fate of an entire kingdom, not fret over the feelings of some smallfolk girl. And so, with the wave of his hand, Jaime sent them both away.
"I need to know what awaits me," he began once they were alone
...
Daven shrugged. "The siege drags on. The Blackfish sits in his castle, refusing to bend, and we sit in our camps and threaten day after day to kill his nephew. Bloody useless, if you ask me. And boring. I'm itching for a fight. Tully ought to plan some sort of attack. And kill some of the Freys whilst he's at it. Like our own Lord Emmon," Daven spat the name like a curse. "Seven save us, that man. Still angry about not getting Riverrun. He's been a pain the whole time."
Jaime nodded and fetched the cups of wine once they had been heated. His mind was awash with thoughts as he pushed one into Daven's waiting hands and took a meagre sip from his own. "You were speaking of Freys you wanted dead..."
"Ah, there's some good ones too," Daven blustered. "But some of them are right whoresons, I tell-"
"Can I trust you?" Jaime cut in. Daven's eyes widened, his brow furrowed. "To keep my secrets, I mean. I know all too well you'll watch my back in the heat of battle. But I have orders from His Grace, and to see them completed it is imperative they be kept secret. I can ill afford loose lips."
Daven's look of outrage softened somewhat at that. Then his face hardened and he nodded curtly once. "You can trust me."
"His Grace wants the Freys dead," Jaime said. "Not all, but enough to atone for the Red Wedding."
Daven frowned in confusion. "His Grace? These commands are from Tommen?" he asked. "Not your father?"
"His Grace issued the orders, my father merely approved them."
Daven nodded, looking perhaps a tad surprised at that, and then asked: "But why?"
"Politics," Jaime said. "After the Red Wedding the Freys will not last long as Lord Paramounts of the Riverlands. The other Riverlords won't wear it, nor should they have to. So, to strangle any future notions of rebellion in the cradle, the source of the discontent must be removed. And it will help to bring the Vale lords and the Northerners back into the fold, too. To see justice done for Robb and Catelyn Stark, and all the lords and ladies who died fighting to protect them. We'll not be slaying innocents, mind. Just those who partook in the slaughter, those who broke guest right."
"I... I suppose I can understand that. So what am I supposed to do?"
"Nothing, for now at least," Jaime said. "The first priority for the moment will be bringing the Riverlands back under the crown's control. But once all the sieges have been ended and all the keeps have been captured..."
"We march on the Twins," Daven finished.
Jaime said nothing, but let the silence speak for itself.
"Seven save us all..."
"Give the gods some time," Jaime said, swallowing that last dregs of wine in his cup. "If His Grace has his way, they surely will. Now you must come with me to the camp. Time is being wasted that we can ill afford to waste. We can speak further as we ride."
Daven nodded, swigged the last of his wine and made to follow. He eyed Jaime strangely as they pushed past the tent-flaps. "You've changed, coz," he said.
"I know," Jaime said quietly. "Hopefully for the better."
"You seem more like your father," Daven said as they approached the horses. "Certainly cleverer than when I last saw you. Colder, too. But perhaps more dutiful."
Jaime felt his expression sour a little at the comparison to his father, but ultimately he kept his peace. His hook ached where his hand should have been. But, truth be told, he did not mind it much. He liked this life. At least he liked it more than King's Landing. Walking among the soldiers, between the tents, blending in among all the other men at the warcamp. There was a certain simplicity to it he liked. Like living among northerners, Jaime reflected. No time for backstabbing or treachery or conspiracy with a common enemy to rally against. For them the enemy is the cold, for us the Riverlords. And perhaps the ladies too...
Jaime suppressed the shiver that threatened to creep up his spine at that thought as he approached a mount and leapt onto it's saddle. Beside him, Daven did the same and the pair soon set off towards the great Tully castle, soldiers rallying behind them all the way to the siege. The rest of the warcamp would come tomorrow. "Be wary," one of the men warned. "There are wolves about." Jaime nodded. He already knew. They went some way in silence, before Jaime opted to call Daven over with a look.
"Tell me, in greater detail, the state of the siege."
Daven shrugged. "What is there to tell?" he said. "I've been having them building rams and siege towers, but we have yet to chance an assault on the walls. Meanwhile, Ser Emmon has raised a set of gallows. Every day he takes Edmure Tully out before the walls and threatens to hang him. Every day he returns back to camp with Edmure still alive. He wants to kill him, but so far I've been keeping him under control. I reckon he thinks that if the Tullys would be gone he'd get Riverrun back. But there's no chance of that now. His wife is pregnant, did you know?"
Jaime frowned. Another indication of the accuracy of his nephew's premonitions. "I know. He bedded her during the Red Wedding."
Daven's brows climbed up his head at that - at Jaime knowing such a specific detail - but after a second he seemed to accept it. "Well, Lord Westerling is of the mind that nothing ought to be done to Lord Edmure. He makes arguments of honour, but his wife and daughter - the one who was briefly Robb Stark's wife before he was slain - are hostages within the walls of Riverrun. Most likely he fears they'll be hurt if anything happens to Edmure."
"The Blackfish would not stoop so low," Jaime said. "Now I've gotten the facts, tell me your own opinion."
Daven cocked his head in thought. "We have the castle well encircled, but not much else. Half our host is made of Riverlords who came our way after the Red Wedding.
I don't trust them to watch our backs in an assault. And even if it weren't so, we haven't the strength to storm the keep and guarantee a victory. Nor can we afford to starve them out. The Blackfish stripped this land clean and expelled all useless mouths before he closed the gates to his castle. He could hold quite comfortably for years. We... probably couldn't.
The Freys have food coming from the Twins, but they claim not to have enough to share. And though we have fish for the men caught from the rivers, the horses are quietly going hungry. I send men out to forage, and half don't come back. Some desert. The others... We find them days later. Hanging from trees, mauled by what look like dogs-"
"Or wolves."
Daven nodded. "The shipments from the Reach helped somewhat, but most the grain went into the ground for the autumn harvest, so..."
"In other words, we have to find a way to end this siege, and quickly."
Daven nodded in agreement. "That would be my advice."
"I'll treat with them," Jaime said. "I mean to offer them generous terms."
"You are welcome to try, but I'd be surprised if it worked."
"Worry not, cousin," Jaime said, thinking of the orders burning a hole in his pockets, and of his oath to never again take up arms against a Tully. "I'll have this mess sorted one way or another."
"Hmm."
From then on, their journey continued more or less in quiet, till eventually Riverrun hoved into view. The grand Tully castle rose from the waters of the Red Fork and the Tumblestone like some great stone dromond with it's prow pointed downstream. It's walls suddenly seemed higher and thicker than Jaime had remembered them to be.
If it does come to an assault, Jaime thought, then it will be a bloody one. But Tommen instructions, written as they were on the letters in his pockets, seemed plenty confident that Riverrun would fall. Jaime's stomach threatened rebellion at the thought of what he might have to do.
And if the Blackfish doesn't listen? Jaime thought. If that were the case then Jaime supposed either he'd have to truly become like his father, or else admit defeat and lead the assault himself. And then he would have to contend with the wolves...
No, Jaime thought, squaring his shoulders as they arrived and strengthening his resolve. I must have faith. Tommen's dreams have not misled me yet.
...
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