Chapter 99

Of course, Aegor knew that calling the King’s actions “putting on airs” was a subjective and emotionally charged critique. While it was undeniable that Robert Baratheon was now a literal fat man, the more important distinction lay in how he was raised. As the eldest son of his house, Robert’s upbringing had been completely different from Eddard’s. If Eddard’s personality was “reserved,” Robert’s was “dominant.” On that note, had both been equally headstrong, their lifelong friendship might never have blossomed.

As the supreme ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, Robert’s decision to gather an army and march on the Vale might have seemed like mere posturing, but from a political perspective, it was far more calculated. He sought to remind his vassals of their long-neglected obligations, test their loyalty, and reinforce the bonds between liege lord and bannermen during these turbulent times.

After letting the lords enjoy their comforts for so long, it was time for them to bleed and toil again.

...

In the feudal hierarchy, the relationship between a liege lord and his vassals could be boiled down to a set of mutual obligations. The liege lord was responsible for the protection and sustenance of his vassals. “Protection” was straightforward—Robert’s march on the Vale to quell the rebellion and rescue Lysa Tully was a direct fulfillment of this duty. He not only had to free her from the besieging lords but also provide her with justice (if such a thing existed). “Sustenance,” on the other hand, referred to granting vassals sufficient land and population to sustain themselves through taxes and harvests.

In return, vassals had two core responsibilities: first, they were forbidden from undermining their liege’s interests—whether it be his life, honor, or property. Any breach, even as minor as speaking ill of the liege in private, was considered treason unless done openly and in good faith. Second, they were obligated to respond promptly to any summons or appointment from their liege, especially in times of danger or crisis. Eddard Stark accepting the position of Hand of the King and the lords gathering their forces for this campaign were both examples of fulfilling this duty.

While the rules were simple in principle, their execution was complex enough to fill volumes. Among these obligations, one stood out as critical—and it was the very reason Robert could launch such a large-scale campaign despite the crown’s empty coffers. When vassals raised troops in response to a royal summons, they were responsible for equipping and feeding their own men.

In other words, Robert only had to cover the costs of the forces he brought from King’s Landing. The rest of the army—the thirty thousand men already assembled and the reinforcements yet to come—would be financed by their respective lords. The King’s personal wealth was irrelevant as long as his vassals had the resources and were willing to fulfill their obligations.

This wasn’t a loophole or exploitation—it was simply how feudal society operated. As a noble firstborn educated in the intricacies of governance, Robert understood his rights as a liege lord perfectly. Even if the rebellion could have been resolved through diplomacy, he chose war, and his vassals had no choice but to obey. Anyone who defied his summons would be guilty of treason, and once the Vale was dealt with, Robert could turn his attention to punishing them.

...

Ironically, the rebels in the “Alliance of Justice” were also waving the banner of “protecting the liege.” According to their narrative, they recognized only Robert Arryn, Jon Arryn’s son, as their rightful liege lord. They claimed that the boy, currently under the care of his mother Lysa Tully, was in grave danger and needed their rescue.

Robert Baratheon, meanwhile, viewed Lysa as a vassal in need of his protection, both as the boy’s mother and his guardian. The Vale lords, led by Yohn Royce and others, refused to acknowledge Lysa’s authority, dismissing her as a stand-in for the liege lord.

It was a classic case of “both sides have a point.” A debate might have been fascinating, but with war chosen, the matter became brutally simple—might would decide who was right.

...

The combined forces of the Riverlands and Crownlands camped at the mouth of the Vale’s narrow gorge, their camps set up within sight of each other. Trees were felled to clear lines of sight, ensuring that the camps weren’t so close as to risk surprise attacks or fires spreading, yet close enough to support one another if the rebels dared to sortie from the Vale.

Robert had also ordered the army’s supplies and baggage trains to be stored dozens of miles back near the Crossroads Inn, protected by a detachment of troops that could serve as reinforcements if needed.

Though Aegor had no love for Robert and privately mocked the “cuckold king,” he couldn’t fault the man’s strategic and tactical arrangements. Robert’s planning was methodical and sound—testament to his upbringing as both the Lord of Storm’s End and a battle-hardened commander. It left Aegor wondering how someone so competent as a general ended up as such a poor king. Another piece of the puzzle misplaced by fate, no doubt.

...

Even though only two kingdoms had arrived thus far, Aegor had begun his efforts to network with the nobles of the Crownlands and Riverlands. Most of them were uninterested in the Night’s Watch Chief Logistics Officer, meeting him only out of courtesy due to Robert’s presence. They’d exchange a few polite words before finding an excuse to dismiss him. Only a handful showed genuine interest in the Night’s Watch enterprises Aegor described, promising to “consider” visiting the King’s Landing office in the future.

Aegor felt like a door-to-door salesman facing rejection after rejection, but he remained undeterred. Building deep connections on a first meeting was impossible. As long as these lords remembered him—whether for his status as the first Night’s Watchman they’d ever met, his foreign appearance, or the novelty of his printed books—he considered it a success. Establishing a foundation for future relationships was enough.

...

The third contingent to join the army came from the North, led by Robb Stark. Nearly ten thousand soldiers had marched south, a testament to Northern loyalty despite the region’s sparse population and vast distances. Robert rode out personally to greet the son of his old friend, welcoming him warmly.

Next came the Westerlands, under Kevan Lannister. Though their forces also numbered around ten thousand, their polished armor and disciplined ranks put the other armies to shame. Rumor had it that a third of Kevan’s troops were not levied peasants but regularly trained soldiers from Lannisport’s standing forces—a notable achievement.

The Stormlands, Robert’s own domain, provided another ten thousand under the nominal leadership of Renly Baratheon. However, as one of Robert’s close advisors, Renly remained at his brother’s side, leaving the organization to his bannermen.

The Reach sent a mere five thousand—a suspiciously low number for the most populous and fertile region of Westeros. However, these were elite cavalry, and Randyll Tarly explained that logistical challenges limited their numbers. He also pledged to supply the army’s provisions for the campaign, which Robert ultimately accepted.

Dorne contributed a few thousand spearmen led by Prince Oberyn Martell, which was already a notable gesture. After all, even Aegon the Conqueror had failed to subdue Dorne with dragons.

The Ironborn sent over a hundred ships and a thousand sailors under Asha Greyjoy. Aegor had only heard of her in passing but assumed this must be Balon’s chosen heir. Her arrival was surprisingly early—apparently, the Ironborn had transported Dorne’s troops along the coast, allowing them to arrive ahead of the Reach’s cavalry.

With Stannis Baratheon already stationed at Crackclaw Point, blockading Gulltown and the Eyrie with his fleet, the seven kingdoms were finally united. Nearly a month after Aegor had left King’s Landing, the forces of Westeros were assembled—more than eighty thousand strong. The Vale was encircled by land and sea, and the Bloody Gate was surrounded by a forest of banners, their vibrant colors stretching as far as the eye could see.

The display of power and the planned assault on the Vale’s impenetrable defenses were about to begin. This was no longer just a rebellion—it was a spectacle, a testament to Robert’s authority, and perhaps, a gamble with fate itself.