Every Step Wrong, Yet Answered Correctly

The Riverlands army camp outside Duskendale was abuzz with noise.

Inside House Mooton's command tent, firelight illuminated one grim face after another.

The tent canvas snapped in the wind, mingling with the crude curses of soldiers outside.

The tent flap was suddenly thrown open. Wind rushed in, making the firelight flicker wildly.

William Mooton entered, pulling off his soaked hood as rainwater streamed down his fleshy cheeks.

He swept his gaze across the lords waiting anxiously within the tent, then merely shook his head.

"Still haven't seen Lord Suleiman."

His voice was not loud, but it stirred unease in everyone present.

Ser Walter Hean's voice already carried a trace of barely suppressed anger. "Still being stopped by those same guards?"

He rose from his seat and paced back and forth in the cramped space.

Something was wrong. Far too wrong.

William Mooton spoke helplessly. "They said His Lordship was resting and would see no one."

Walter Hean abruptly stopped pacing and practically roared, "Resting?!"

"The war has already begun."

"We swept through the entire northern Crownlands and seized the families of those Crownlands nobles campaigning abroad, dragging them into the army."

"We looted their family estates, and now we're stuck here like a pack of headless flies."

"It has been a full five days since we left Harrenhal!"

He held up five fingers and waved them before the others.

"Why aren't we marching straight for King's Landing?!"

"We haven't even seen so much as a hair on Lord Suleiman's head!"

"Is he even in this camp?"

"Is he even still commanding the army?!"

The question struck at the heart of everyone present.

It was the doubt they all shared.

Ever since the army had left Harrenhal, Suleiman had not appeared in public again.

Even when he did appear, he was