Chapter 116

The Bloody Gate had fallen, but the events leading to its capture had unfolded in a way no one could have predicted.

For reasons Aegor had not foreseen, the elite troops sent into the mountains to subdue or ally with the mountain clans faced unexpected challenges. These natives, familiar with the rugged terrain, employed tactics that would have made Mao Zedong proud. They refused to engage in direct combat, instead disappearing into the wilderness whenever the loyalist forces approached. Scouts among the clans would sound the alarm long before the soldiers drew close, prompting entire families to flee with all their belongings. After days of searching, thousands of troops had failed to capture a single clansman. At this rate, Robert’s fifteen-day deadline seemed impossible to meet.

However, just as the plan appeared on the brink of failure, Robb Stark’s detachment stumbled upon an unexpected ally—Brynden Tully, the Blackfish.

The current Lord of Riverrun’s estranged brother, Brynden had left the Riverlands years earlier due to disagreements with his sibling, taking up service in the Vale under Jon Arryn. Appointed as the Knight of the Gate, he had overseen the defense of the Bloody Gate for over a decade. Loyal to his niece, Lysa Tully, Brynden had attempted to repel the rebel forces during their coup but had been forced to retreat when resistance proved futile. Using a secret passage within the Bloody Gate, he escaped into the Mountains of the Moon, where he evaded capture by both the mountain clans and the rebels for over a month. Fortune finally brought him face-to-face with Robb Stark.

While Brynden Tully may not have had much experience in breaching the Bloody Gate from the outside, few in Westeros could rival his knowledge of bypassing it. Leading a few hundred elite soldiers, the former Knight of the Gate navigated the mountains as if they were his own backyard, sneaking behind the Bloody Gate’s defenders and scaling the cliffs without being detected until it was far too late.
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In the end, it was Aegor’s strategy that led to the Bloody Gate’s fall, but the greatest credit went to a man who had never set foot in the loyalist camp or attended a single war council.

Brynden Tully’s reputation as an escape artist shone once again. Whether dodging the massacre at the Red Wedding in the TV series or eluding Jaime Lannister after surrendering Riverrun in the books, the Blackfish had an unparalleled knack for slipping through danger. Aegor couldn’t help but think his nickname should be “Mudfish” instead.
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Once the Bloody Gate was secured, the loyalist forces spent half a day clearing the obstructed gates, using hundreds of men working in shifts. The task was completed far quicker than expected. When Robert’s troops captured the gate, they discovered that the defenders had already cleared most of the blockage from their side. According to captured rebels, the gate-clearing had begun the very day the loyalists’ “disbandment” ruse began to unfold. If the Blackfish had not led his detachment when he did, or if his group had taken a few more days to act, the rebel forces might have launched a devastating night raid on the disorganized loyalist camp.

A sudden night assault on a camp of tens of thousands, with fragmented command and absent officers? The result would have been catastrophic. Even Aegor and Yoren, as “innocent bystanders,” might have been injured or killed in the ensuing chaos.

Thankfully, history has no room for what-ifs.
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After the victory, the loyalist camp quickly settled on a narrative: King Robert himself had led the charge to capture the Bloody Gate.

Sure, the reality was that “the Blackfish loyal to Lysa Tully reclaimed the gate.” Sure, Robert had arrived at the battlefield only as the fighting was drawing to a close. Sure, the king hadn’t even had time to truly enjoy the battle before the defenders surrendered. But Robert had been there before the end, and the crowned stag banner was the first to fly atop the battlements, raised by the king’s own hands. As the supreme commander of the campaign, it was only fitting to credit the victory to him.

Everyone tacitly agreed to this version of events. With the narrative secured, Robert was immortalized as the first king in a thousand years to conquer the Bloody Gate.

Aegor couldn’t have cared less. A hollow title meant nothing to him. If flattering the king ensured a generous reward, why not play along?
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With the Bloody Gate taken, the Vale lay open to the loyalists. The thousand or so rebels stationed at the base of the Giant’s Lance surrendered immediately upon hearing the news. Two days later, the entire Vale was firmly under Robert’s control.

Only the Eyrie remained, protected by the Moon Gate, a second fortified pass. Fortunately, the Royce family controlling the Moon Gate was unrelated to the Royces of Runestone and had not openly supported the rebellion. The castle remained intact, its gates unbreached.

Beyond the Moon Gate, a narrow goat trail led up the Giant’s Lance to the Eyrie. The journey typically took half a day under normal conditions, and travelers were vulnerable to attacks from three nearby mountain fortresses: Sky, Snow, and Stone. However, the commanders of these fortresses had not joined the Brotherhood of Justice. If they had once sympathized with the rebels, the sight of six kingdoms’ combined armies now flying the crowned stag banner had swiftly changed their loyalties.

Lysa Tully, meanwhile, refused to believe the rebellion was over. Holed up in the Eyrie, she clung to her delusions even as the castle’s food supplies dwindled. The end of the two-month-long rebellion was now inevitable.
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The victory feast was held in the Vale, in a field overlooking the Giant’s Lance. By day, the gathering enjoyed the majestic sight of the towering mountains and the ghostly cascade of Alyssa’s Tears, the silver ribbon of water shimmering against the dark rock under the sun.

By night, the field became the site of the largest bonfire celebration in Westerosi history. The wealth and supplies hoarded by the rebel lords, among the Vale’s richest families, were seized and distributed among the loyalist forces. The spoils, estimated at over a hundred thousand gold dragons, were more than enough to cover the army’s wages for ten days and still leave a surplus. Generous as ever, Robert decreed the wealth be shared among the soldiers and lords, cementing his reputation as a king who spared no expense for his men.
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Once the Blackfish received his due praise and rewards, it was Aegor’s turn. Standing in the center of the royal pavilion, he faced Robert’s beaming smile and the curious stares of the assembled lords from the six kingdoms.

Among the shrewder politicians, a realization was dawning: Westeros’s fragile peace might not last much longer. In the inevitable conflict to come, any side with a man like Aegor—capable of devising clever strategies and holding his own against legends like Oberyn Martell—would gain a decisive advantage.

A renowned figure of both intellect and martial skill, in an age where mediocrity was the norm, could tip the scales of power simply by being present.

It was just a shame he was sworn to the Night’s Watch, beyond the reach of any faction.
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“White Walker slayer,” Robert addressed him, clearly fond of the title. “While it was the Blackfish who led the troops behind the Bloody Gate, your plan deserves its due credit. So tell me—what do you want? Name it, and as long as it’s not too outrageous, I’ll grant it.”

Anything, as long as it’s not too outrageous.

The king’s offer was bold, and coming from Robert Baratheon, its sincerity was unquestionable. The tent, previously abuzz with conversation, fell silent. Every eye turned to the young man in black standing in the center.

A member of the Night’s Watch. What could he possibly want?