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"Your Grace, we killed forty-seven Lannister cavalrymen and captured two alive. They are being questioned now."
As soon as the Greatjon returned to the northern army's camp, he brought Eddard and Smalljon straight to Robb's command tent, loudly reporting the good news as he came.
On the left side of the royal tent, Bloodwind, who had not appeared for a long while, lazily raised his head. His gaze swept over Eddard and the two Umbers before he lowered himself again and pretended to sleep.
After the Greatjon, Smalljon, and Eddard entered the command tent, they found Robb and all the northern lords looking at them with solemn faces. They immediately sensed that something was wrong with the atmosphere.
"Lord Jon, what order did I give you?"
Robb did not ask the Greatjon about the details of the battle. Instead, he directly asked about the order he had given before.
"Manage the soldiers under my command and prepare them for battle."
The smile vanished from Lord Jon's face. He stood straight and answered in a deep voice.
"You disobeyed a royal command and left your post without permission. Do you admit your guilt?"
"This broken place doesn't even have a rabbit in it. Who would come attack us here?
I led warriors to kill enemies and win merit. That is a crime?"
Hearing Robb's words, the hot-tempered Greatjon immediately shouted back.
His words directly ignited Robb's anger. Robb slammed his palm down on the table inside the command tent, stood, and roared:
"We are marching to war! Do you think this is a game?
You want this, he wants that. Who is supposed to be obeyed? What use am I as King in the North?"
The Greatjon was about to continue arguing when Smalljon and Eddard rushed forward from behind him. They dropped to one knee before Robb and said together:
"Please punish us, Your Grace."
"Cavalry commanders Smalljon Umber and Eddard Karstark failed to complete their assigned task.
Twenty lashes each."
"Thank you, Your Grace."
Hearing the punishment, Smalljon and Eddard immediately lowered their heads and accepted it willingly.
"Lord Jon, I will ask you again. Do you know your guilt?"
After punishing the two subordinates close to him, Robb's gaze returned to the Greatjon. His voice was cold as he asked.
"I cut down enemies and won merit for the North. I am not guilty. I do not accept it."
The Greatjon's fierce, terrifying face was filled with defiance as he shouted directly at Robb.
"Ha, ha, ha. Very good."
Hearing the Greatjon's answer, Robb suddenly laughed, but everyone in the command tent could hear the coldness in his laughter.
Grrr!
At the entrance, Bloodwind sensed Robb's intention. His huge head appeared in the doorway of the command tent, and a growl rumbled from the wolf's mouth, low and threatening before an attack. His murderous eyes locked onto the Greatjon's back.
The Greatjon did not look back, but as a man who had survived a hundred battles, he instantly felt the deadly warning behind him. Every hair on his body stood on end, and his right hand could not help slowly moving toward the sword at his waist.
Inside the command tent, it was as if the air had suddenly frozen, drawn tight like a blade about to leave its sheath.
Robb walked over to Gendry, who was holding Ice. With a hiss, he drew the greatsword from its sheath and said:
"Lord of Last Hearth, Jon Umber, you disobeyed a royal command, left your post without permission, and refused to admit your fault.
In the name of the King in the North, according to military law, I sentence you to behead..."
"Your Grace, please show mercy."
Before Robb could finish, Lord Rickard, who had been prepared in advance and was waiting precisely for this moment, suddenly stood and spoke loudly.
"Lord Jon only wished to kill enemies for the North. He had absolutely no intention of defying your command or violating military law.
Let him owe this life for now, and allow him to win equal merit in this war to make up for it."
"Yes, yes. He made a mistake, but the Greatjon does not deserve to lose his head."
"Lord Jon, hurry and apologize to His Grace."
"Your Grace, please forgive Lord Jon's disrespect."
Lord Rickard's words immediately resonated with the other northern lords, and they all began pleading for the Greatjon.
"Your Grace, please forgive my father's fault."
Smalljon dropped to both knees before Robb, loudly begging for his father. Then he turned his head and spoke to the Greatjon.
"Father, you violated military law. Please admit your mistake."
The Greatjon looked around the command tent and saw that everyone, his own son included, was signaling to him.
He slowly withdrew his right hand, lowered the proud head he had kept raised, and knelt on one knee before Robb. In a deep voice, he said:
"Your Grace, I... was wrong. Please allow me to make up for my fault with battle merit."
"Since all my lords ask for mercy, and since Lord Jon has admitted his fault, this punishment under military law will be recorded for now. When Lord Jon earns merit in this war, it will be used to offset it."
Seeing that the Greatjon had finally yielded and admitted his mistake, Robb slid Ice back into the sheath in Gendry's hands and spoke clearly.
The moment Robb's words fell, Bloodwind lazily lay down at the entrance once more, and the tense atmosphere in the command tent instantly vanished.
Hearing Robb relent, most of the people in the tent let out a breath of relief.
The Greatjon was a fierce warrior of no small strength, a powerful fighter for charging into enemy lines. Losing him would mean the northern army had weakened itself before the war had truly begun.
Theon, who had been standing to the side and watching Robb tame these unruly northern lords with admiration in his heart, spoke at exactly the right moment.
"Your Grace, Lord Jon and the others killed and captured nearly fifty enemies this time. There should be a reward as well."
"Mm. There will naturally be a reward. Like the punishment, it will be recorded for now. If useful information can be gained from the prisoners, the reward will be doubled."
"Thank you, Your Grace."
The northern lords had indeed submitted to Robb sincerely, but the North had always honored heroism. Some of Robb's orders that seemed unimportant were usually handled carelessly, and the lords were quite loose in their discipline.
After Robb used the Greatjon's incident to establish his authority, they began to take military law and discipline seriously. That would play a crucial role in how Robb commanded the war from this point onward.
Pyke, inside the main keep's great hall.
Ramsay had already arrived at Pyke and been left waiting for several days. At last, a guard brought him into the hall.
When he saw King Balon, the sharp-eyed man with graying hair draped over his gaunt back was seated on the Seastone Chair, a strange stone throne shaped like a huge, black, oil-slick kraken.
Several ironborn stood beside him, men and women both.
"Ramsay Bolton, Lord of the Dreadfort in the North, pays respect to King Balon, Reaver King of the Sunset Sea."
Ramsay, who knew when to bend and when to press forward, lowered his head and gave Balon a very courteous greeting, showing him ample respect.
"Put away your false courtesies. We ironborn are not like the whores of your green lands.
If you have business, speak plainly."
Balon spoke to Ramsay without the slightest politeness.
With his head lowered, the veins on Ramsay's forehead bulged at those words, and his expression became exceedingly dark.
But when he raised his head, his face was full of smiles. As if nothing had happened, he continued:
"As expected of the ironborn. You speak and act directly.
Robb Stark, the King in the North, wishes to form an alliance with you.
Together, you can strike Lannisport and Casterly Rock from the Sunset Sea. So long as House Lannister can be destroyed, you will be King of the Iron Islands and the Westerlands."
"Ha, ha, ha, ha..."
Hearing Ramsay's words, Balon immediately burst into laughter, his voice filling the entire hall.
Only after Balon had laughed enough did he speak.
"That sounds very much like Tywin. Except Tywin, that whore, promised me the title of King of the Iron Islands and the North.
By the way, do you know why I waited until today to summon you?"
"I do not."
Ramsay still wore a smile as he shook his head.
"My men tell me the wolf cub has already led the northern army out of the Neck. Soon... there will be no more King in the North."
"King Balon, what do you mean?"
"Ha, ha, ha. That boy of House Stark thought he could scheme against Tywin. But before you had even set out, you had already stepped into the trap Tywin laid.
Kevan Lannister and Walder Frey are waiting in ambush at the Twins, and Tywin Lannister is blocking the kingsroad.
So long as I follow Tywin's plan and take Moat Cailin, those twenty or thirty thousand northern soldiers will all die outside the Neck."
Without any restraint, Balon first loudly revealed Tywin's plan. Then he shook his head and continued.
"But I need no one to give me a crown as alms.
I will personally seize what I desire. I will pay the iron price.
That... is the tradition of the Old Way.
That... is why we call ourselves ironborn."
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