The nearby Green Fork was deep and swift, but House Frey's power had spanned both banks for centuries, growing rich from the tolls paid by those who crossed.
The crossing built by Frey was a massive gray stone arch bridge, wide enough for two carriages to pass abreast; the Water Tower stood in the center of the arch, intimidating the river and road with its arrow slits, murder holes, and iron portcullis.
Frey took three generations of lords to complete this arch bridge, and upon its completion, they built wooden strongholds on both banks.
Now, the wood had long since been replaced by stone, and at both ends of the arch bridge were almost identical square castles, both with deep moats and heavy oak-and-iron gates.
As Duke Brynden rode closer, the drawbridge of the west castle had already been raised, and the portcullis lowered.
The castle gates were tightly shut and bolted.
Duke Brynden looked up, seeing spears, swords, and large crossbows everywhere on the castle walls, with archers deployed at every arrow slit.
The accompanying Bolton, Earl of the Dreadfort, Roose Bolton, rode up beside him, observed for a moment, and said: "Lord Frey has become more cautious than before."
He added: "Duke Brynden, without a large army and siege weapons, such a castle cannot be taken. The army I brought from the North had to be left on the east side of the river."
On the opposite bank of the rapidly flowing green water, the east castle was like a twin brother to its western counterpart.
Duke Brynden's eyes were deep. He paused, then said: "Our greatest enemy is Lannister."
Lord Bolton's light eyes flickered. He said: "Duke Brynden, I still want to advise you to be more vigilant. Lord Frey is not known for his generosity."
"My grandnephew needs more assistance."
Duke Brynden sighed softly: "House Frey is very important to King Robb. If I show distrust towards them, how can I show Lord Frey our sincerity?"
Just then, a side gate of the west castle suddenly opened, extending a wooden plank bridge across the moat, and a dozen knights bearing silver-gray banners with deep blue twin towers rode towards them. Leading them was Black Walder, who had returned to Riverrun after Robb led the cavalry away from Riverrun…
Stopping his horse, Black Walder grinned: "Lord Brynden, Lord Frey is greatly honored by the visit of his new liege. He invites you alone into the castle for dinner."
Only one person is invited?!
Lord Bolton's thin voice reached Duke Brynden's ears: "We can negotiate outside the gate. If you accept the invitation, you will be at Lord Frey's mercy. He can sell you to Lannister, or throw you into the dungeon as a hostage, whatever pleases him."
He gazed for a moment at Black Walder, whose face held an ill-intentioned smile, then raised his hand to silence the shouting Riverlands knights behind him.
He turned and looked around, saying: "Wait for me here."
Finally, he nodded to Lord Bolton, and said to Black Walder: "Thank Lord Frey for the invitation. Please lead the way."
The Twins, the great hall of the east castle.
Greeting Duke Brynden, Lord Walder Frey was surrounded by nearly twenty sons, thirty-six grandsons, nineteen great-grandsons, and many daughters, granddaughters, bastards, bastard daughters, and bastard grandsons and granddaughters.
This made Duke Brynden recall a joke circulating in Riverrun: Throughout the Seven Kingdoms, Walder Frey is the only lord who can breed an army himself.
"Lord Brynden, welcome. This is a great honor for House Frey."
Lord Walder was ninety-one years old, looking like a shriveled pink weasel, his head bald and covered in age spots.
Due to gout, Lord Walder could not stand without assistance, and at this moment, he was being supported by his eighth wife—a pale, thin sixteen-year-old girl.
Duke Brynden looked at Old Walder and said: "I recall our last meeting was when Lysa married into the Vale. Time flows silently like water; it has been over a decade…"
Lord Walder's shoulders trembled; he seemed to be laughing: "Who would have thought a half-savage lord from the swamps would become the new master of the Vale."
His shoulders trembled again: "The Arryn Family, which has endured for thousands of years, has actually perished. This is truly cruel… *huff… huff… huff…* I wonder which noble house will perish next… *huff… huff… huff…*"
Duke Brynden frowned slightly. Just then, one of Lord Walder's older sons spoke: "Father, have you forgotten? Duke Hoster's daughter married Lord Arryn. Arryn and Tully are family, and our new liege just mentioned her."
Lord Walder seemed very angry: "Am I asking you? I'm not dead, do I look dead? I don't need to listen to your lectures."
No sooner had he spoken than another, younger son of Lord Walder complained: "Lord Frey, this is not the Frey way of hospitality, and you invited him yourself."
Yet another son of Lord Walder spoke: "Father, have you forgotten that House Frey is Duke Tully's vassal?"
"Now even my bastards are lecturing me?"
Lord Walder flicked his fingers, shooing away a red-faced young man, and complained: "You all deserve to die. I'll say whatever I want. I've hosted three kings in my life, not to mention queens. Do I need you to remind me how to entertain guests?"
After speaking, he gestured to two other sons: "Help me to a chair."
They helped Lord Walder to a black oak chair, and his young wife timidly walked over and covered his feet with a blanket.
Once Lord Walder was seated, he seemed to remember Duke Brynden. He pointed to another identical chair opposite him and said: "Lord Tully, these rascals have angered me. Please sit."
Duke Brynden's expression was a bit stiff. As soon as he sat down, Lord Walder's voice came: "Have you come to ask me to join my liege in battle? But these old bones of mine are past the age of leading armies. I can send my heir in my place, Stevron…"
One of Lord Walder's sons interrupted: "Father, he died in battle long ago."
"Dead? Yes, I haven't forgotten, I know he died in battle. You shut up, I don't need you to remind me, I saw his corpse."
Lord Walder gave Duke Brynden a strange smile and said: "Then you must be here for a marriage…"
Lord Walder's speech was interrupted again by a son: "Father, have you forgotten? King Robb has already broken off the betrothal with House Frey."
Lord Walder blinked, looked towards the sound, and angrily said: "I'm not dead yet. House Frey doesn't need you to tell me what to do."
Glancing at the dozens of eyes staring at them, Duke Brynden cleared his throat and said: "Lord Walder, could we perhaps move to another place to talk?"
"Aren't we talking now?"
Lord Walder muttered a complaint, then turned his head and roared at the Freys standing around: "What are you waiting for? Didn't you hear that Lord Liege wants to speak with me privately? All of you, step back, go find something useful to do. Yes, you too, you stinking woman, out, out, out."
Amidst Lord Walder's angry shouts, his sons, daughters, grandsons, bastards, grandchildren, and granddaughters all left the hall.
Then, he leaned forward and said to Duke Brynden: "They are all waiting for me to die, but I will make sure to disappoint them. I will not give them what they want."
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