The sharp, biting words came from a gray-haired, short, but strong middle-aged woman clad in scale armor. A bear in a green forest was emblazoned on her surcoat as she sat across from Eddard.
Eddard knew exactly who she was.
Lady Maege Mormont, the head of House Mormont and ruler of Bear Island. Due to her loyalty to House Stark, she found House Karstark's recent behavior particularly distasteful.
While mourning the death of a son was understandable, the Karstarks' actions had almost led to a falling out with the Young Wolf—Robb Stark. They even went so far as to threaten abandoning their duties, a behavior considered disrespectful.
Faced with her provocation, Eddard remained calm. "Yes, Lady Maege. I believe you can understand the pain. When Jorah Mormont fled the North for slaving, surely as his aunt, you must have felt the pain of losing someone close."
He offered a slight smile, adding, "Did that pain fade with the joy of inheriting Bear Island?"
Jorah Mormont, once known as "the Great Bear," had brought disgrace to House Mormont. Acquiring wealth through slaving was one thing—but had he simply sired a child and taken the black to join the Night's Watch, House Mormont's honor might have remained intact.
Instead, he fled the Reach with his wife, disgraced and dishonored. Now, he was somewhere across the Narrow Sea, possibly already at the side of his Khaleesi—with dragons.
But such humiliation was rarely spoken of in public.
Indeed, only when the knife cuts oneself does one truly feel pain.
Lady Maege Mormont's fury surged. Already short-tempered, she now burned with rage as a young upstart mocked her and implied greed for her family's title.
"You little bastard! Say that again if you dare!"
With a roar, she grabbed a spiked mace from beside her, raising it high as her gray-black eyes locked onto Eddard.
Eddard gripped his axe tightly and stood. "You want to fight? Since you're a woman and my elder, I'll let you use one hand."
His tone was calm, fearless.
Though he respected House Mormont for their loyalty, that didn't mean he'd accept insults.
Loyalty was to be respected, but it did not excuse open mockery.
He had to respond—anything less would make him seem weak. Too harsh, and he'd be seen as rash.
A third of the Northern nobles were present. Even a minor misstep could brand him with a nickname:
"Cowardly Karstark"? "Mute Karstark"? No thanks.
"Enough!" a new voice commanded. "Weapons should be aimed at the damned Lannisters, not at each other!"
Robb Stark entered the tent, trailed by his guards.
Among them, a tall woman in black armor—Dacey Mormont—tensed at the sight of her mother facing off against Eddard. Her hand went to her sword, but Robb gently touched her arm.
She backed down.
Lady Maege glared daggers at Eddard, but said nothing. Eddard casually lowered his axe, having won the exchange.
Jon Umber muttered, "Didn't expect the youngest Karstark to have such a sharp tongue."
Even Catelyn Stark was surprised. She remembered Eddard as cheerful and simple. Last night, however, he had watched his brother die—perhaps that changed him.
Catelyn and Robb moved to the map table. A map of Riverrun was unrolled.
Eddard understood the layout at a glance: Riverrun sat at the confluence of the Red Fork and Tumblestone Rivers, protected by a moat that made the castle nearly impregnable.
The Lannisters had split into three camps—north, west, and south—completely encircling Riverrun.
A rare opportunity.
As the tent fell quiet, Robb outlined his plan.
Lady Maege would lead a cavalry unit to eliminate enemy scouts north of Riverrun.
Ser Brynden Tully, the Blackfish, would lead 2,000 cavalry to attack the northern camp.
Robb, along with Lord Umber and House Mallister, would strike the western camp.
Then Robb looked at Eddard.
After last night's chaos, Robb was unsure where House Karstark stood. He had one more task—dangerous and crucial.
Before Robb could speak, Eddard rose.
"There's a problem," he said. "I heard Earl Andros Brax is quick-tempered. If he commands the western camp, then once Brynden attacks the north, Brax will likely move to reinforce—forcing troops to cross the river. That's when we should strike."
It was a basic tactic: strike during a river crossing.
Robb's eyes lit up. The thought had occurred to him as well, thanks to Ser Brynden's intel. But for Eddard to offer the same insight unprompted—it spoke volumes.
More importantly, it signaled Karstark loyalty.
"Well said, Eddard. I've noted it," Robb said, then asked, "What about Ser Forley Prester, on the south bank?"
Eddard recalled Prester's cautious retreat with 2,000 spearmen and 2,000 archers. "I've heard he's a careful man," he said.
"Correct," Robb nodded. "If he sees the other camps under attack, he'll probably retreat. I don't want that. I want the Karstark men to tie him down while we handle the rest. Then we crush him together."
Eddard hesitated.
He remembered the numbers. Robb had 6,000 cavalry. The Lannisters had 12,000 infantry and a few hundred cavalry, down from more before Jaime's failed raid.
There was also a Tyroshi mercenary company in the Lannister camp—but they would switch sides.
Still, Robb was outnumbered.
Three hundred Karstark light cavalry—his entire contingent—were supposed to tie down 4,000 disciplined troops?
That was suicide.
But Eddard wasn't the family head. That decision lay with his father, Rickard Karstark.
"I will report to my father after the meeting. He will decide."
Robb looked disappointed but nodded. His resolve remained. Failure meant doom for House Stark.
"If there are no more questions, let's march. We must reach Riverrun by nightfall."
The tent emptied.
Eddard moved to leave and report to his father.
But just as he reached the entrance, he was blocked by a woman in black armor.
Dacey Mormont. Heir to Bear Island. Over six feet tall, her figure strong and graceful, her sword marked with a bear claw.
Her scarred face was hard as stone.
"Eddard. Your words insulted Bear Island. You insulted House Mormont."
Eddard stared her down, said nothing, and pushed her aside with one hand.
Despite her armor, she couldn't stop him. His training and the strength granted by [Loyalty to the Liege] made him immovable.
He scoffed. "Your family's Great Bear may still live in Essos. My brother died fighting for Robb—killed by the Kingslayer."
"If your mother won't apologize to my father, I will never take back what I said."
He hefted his axe. "Or do you want to duel on her behalf?"
Dacey said nothing—and drew her sword.
She realized her tongue was no match for Eddard Karstark's.
Perhaps steel would speak more clearly.