The morning after the Riverlands delegation arrived at Winterfell, a sudden heavy snow fell.
Feather-like flakes filled the sky, blocking visibility beyond ten meters and leaving behind a vast world of white.
The Great Hall of Winterfell was cluttered with leftover cups and plates.
Trapped inside by the storm, a large crowd gathered in the hall.
Servants cleared away the remnants of yesterday’s feast while soldiers drank the last of the leftover wine.
People crowded around the hearth to warm themselves, roll dice, tell jokes, and polish their weapons.
Some managed to grab fresh food and drink, while others asked musicians to sing another song.
The hall was lively, looking almost like the banquet was still going on, but the high table remained empty.
The four hosts and main guests were nowhere to be seen.
Early that morning, Catelyn had invited Edmure and Ser Brynden Tully into the Great Keep to eat breakfast with Lord Eddard and young Robb.
In a warm family setting, they shared hot crusty bread, blackberry jam, bacon, eggs, fried cod, and hot goat’s milk.
After the meal, the uncle and nephew followed the Starks into the solar.
“How is Father’s health?” Catelyn asked.
“The old wounds your brother got during the war have barely healed, and he remains very weak.
I fear he won’t be able to ride into battle again,” Ser Brynden Tully replied.
“The realm is at peace now, so Father can rest.
He will surely regain his strength over time,” Catelyn said, her voice filled with deep longing.
Ser Brynden exchanged a look with his nephew.
“We hope so, but things are not that simple.” “Has something changed in the south?” Catelyn asked, her expression growing tense.
In the years before Edmure was born, Lord Hoster had raised Catelyn as his heir, giving her the education a ruler needed.
Lady Stark was no helpless noblewoman; she understood politics and leadership.
“Let Edmure explain.
This conversation is strictly secret and must stay between the four of us.
Not a single word can leave this room,” Ser Brynden said, his polite tone from yesterday replaced by deep seriousness.
“Just because things are quiet now doesn’t mean they will stay that way,” Edmure spoke up.
“King Robert has been on the throne for almost five years, yet some lords still secretly call him the Usurper.
A prince and princess of House Targaryen have escaped across the Narrow Sea.
When they grow up, ambitious men will use their claims to start a war.
We must prepare now.” “What kind of preparations?” Catelyn asked.
“It is time to deal with House Frey.” Edmure saw Lord Eddard, who had been listening quietly, frown slightly.
“Ah, Lord Walder Frey, who arrived late to the Battle of the Trident,” Catelyn recalled with a lingering sense of fear.
Had their side lost that crucial battle, she would have lost her husband and her entire family.
The Mad King’s cruelty was famous across the Seven Kingdoms.
The two armies had been evenly matched, with the rebels slightly outnumbered.
House Frey, a powerful vassal sworn to House Tully and the Iron Throne, had stood by and done nothing to help either side.
Catelyn still didn’t know whether to be grateful or angry about their inaction.
“On what grounds does Lord Hoster plan to act against House Frey?” Eddard asked.
“Think about it,” Edmure said, focusing on the tactical risks.
“If war breaks out and the Northern army needs to march south or help Riverrun, what if the unreliable Freys block the passage at The Twins or cut off our supply lines?
We could lose crucial momentum or face total disaster.” Edmure knew his brother-in-law valued honor and just causes, but he also knew Eddard was reasonable when shown clear dangers.
“Furthermore, the former Targaryen loyalists hate House Frey for betraying them, while Robert’s allies despise them for playing both sides.
House Frey is completely isolated right now.
This is our best chance to act.” Edmure continued, “Father will demand that House Frey prove their loyalty beyond doubt.
If Lord Walder obeys his oath, things won’t lead to war.” “But if Lord Walder breaks his word again…” Edmure trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid.
Worried his brother-in-law might be rushing into conflict, Eddard asked, “Is this truly Lord Hoster’s plan?” Ser Brynden stepped forward.
“This decision was made together by my brother, Edmure, and myself.” “In that case, if war comes, I will lead my troops south myself,” Eddard agreed with a nod.
Eddard’s willingness to help made Edmure feel slightly guilty, prompting him to abandon a secret plan he had considered to manipulate the Lord of Winterfell.
“Dealing with a rebellious vassal does not require the Lord of the North to fight personally.
I only need a portion of your army to show your support.” “Will a small force be enough?” Eddard asked.
As an experienced commander, Eddard knew The Twins was a strong fortress defended by over four thousand men.
If the attacking army was too small or poorly led, the attack would fail, damaging the Tully family’s reputation and causing further rebellion.
“We will also ask Lord Jon Arryn to send troops from the Vale,” Edmure added.
The young heir of Riverrun had planned this campaign carefully.
House Tully could raise enough men to take The Twins alone, but calling on allies for help might make House Tully look weak.
On the other hand, war meant casualties, and Edmure wanted to protect Riverlands soldiers by sharing the burden with allies.
Having the Riverlands, the North, and the Vale attack together would show a united front.
However, Edmure had to manage the operation carefully.
He could not allow his two brothers-in-law to command in person; as Wardens of the North and East, their presence would overshadow his own leadership.
Edmure needed to stay in command so House Tully received credit for the victory.
Leaving the rulers of the North and the Vale in their own lands was also better for overall stability.
It protected their main personal forces while allowing them to send powerful bannermen into battle, weakening those ambitious vassals and securing the Wardens’ control over their own territories.
Edmure still had to figure out how to reward and motivate the borrowed troops.
He wasn’t sure if Eddard understood all his political motives, but he saw an approving look on the Lord’s face.
“Lord Jon and I can each supply five thousand men, and Lord Hoster can raise another ten thousand from the Riverlands.
Twenty thousand troops will be enough to take The Twins,” Eddard said.
Eddard’s force estimate matched Edmure’s calculations.
A larger army would be too difficult to feed, as House Tully could only supply twenty thousand men for a year.
“Brother-in-law, I would like to request three specific Northern lords to command your five thousand men.” “Oh?” Eddard asked, his interest piqued.
Southerner nobles rarely knew much about Northern vassals.
“Which three?” “Lord Jon Umber of Last Hearth.
He is a fierce fighter, and I need his strength.” “Agreed,” Eddard said.
“Though Last Hearth is poor, so he can only bring one thousand well-trained men.” “Lord Wyman Manderly of White Harbor.
I hear he is too heavy to ride a horse, so he doesn’t need to come himself, but I want his well-armored troops.” “That can be done,” Eddard replied.
“Lord Wyman is wealthy and can easily send two thousand men.” “And finally,” Edmure paused, “Lord Roose Bolton of The Dreadfort.
His men are disciplined, and he is a clever strategist.” Eddard pressed his lips together, thinking for a moment.
“You are right.
The Dreadfort can provide the remaining two thousand men, but you must be careful around Lord Bolton.” Eddard glanced at his wife, assuming she had told her family about the Northern lords.
When he saw Catelyn looking just as surprised, he nodded in understanding.
“My father-in-law is remarkably well-informed.
Even I could not have chosen three better commanders.” Edmure had actually chosen these lords himself while at Riverrun, though his father and uncle had approved the list.
Seeing his brother-in-law give the credit to Lord Hoster, Edmure decided not to correct him.
“Father will be glad to hear that,” Edmure smiled.
Lord Hoster was a respected veteran of Robert’s Rebellion who had worked closely with the North, and Edmure was happy to use his father’s reputation to lend weight to his plans.
With the military agreement finalized, Edmure had completed his main goal at Winterfell, but his work was not done.
After asking for directions to the Maester’s quarters and the Library Tower, Edmure left the solar alone.
Because the heavy snow blocked his view, Edmure had to trudge slowly along the castle walls.
The short walk took him more than ten minutes.
Maesters were a order of male scholars in Westeros.
They trained at The Citadel, earning links for their chains as they mastered different subjects.
Once qualified, they were assigned to castles across the realm to serve noble families as tutors, healers, and advisors.
Maesters gave up their family names and swore loyalty to whichever castle they were assigned to.
Noble lords relied on them heavily to manage messenger ravens, write letters, and keep records.
However, Edmure did not fully trust the humble image the Maesters presented.
He knew that any organization could be corrupt, and he remembered historical events where Maesters had secretly manipulated powerful lords.
For example, the previous Lord of Winterfell, Rickard Stark, had been influenced by his Maester, Walys, to push for southern political alliances.
That move ultimately dragged Rickard into a dangerous political trap, leading to his brutal death alongside his eldest son.
Maester Walys had come from House Hightower, a powerful southern family that heavily funded The Citadel.
Westeros was full of such secrets and rumors.
While Edmure tried not to believe in every conspiracy theory, he remained cautious around any Maester he met.
Maester Luwin had replaced Walys at Winterfell.
Since joining House Stark, he had delivered two of Catelyn’s children and earned the family’s deep trust.
Edmure sought Luwin out not just because the old man was wise and kind, but because Luwin was the only accessible Maester who possessed a Valyrian steel link on his chain.
A Maester’s chain showed their expertise in different subjects, and an apprentice could not become a full Maester until forging their first link.
The rare Valyrian steel link represented the study of magic and higher mysteries—the rarest knowledge in the world.