The outline of the Twins gradually came into view.
Its towering twin keeps rose on either bank of the Green Fork, connected by the famous arched bridge.
On the walls, banners billowed in the increasingly cold wind.
The Freys' Twin Towers Banner, the Boltons' Flayed Man banner, and...
Robb's gaze froze.
At the highest point, a Direwolf banner struggled against the wind beneath the leaden sky.
It was true.
Roose Bolton had indeed raised the banner of the North here.
This was the only good news Robb had heard since the crushing defeat in the Riverlands and his reunion with Arya.
With that banner raised, the Twins had become a beacon for the scattered remnants of the northern and Riverlands armies.
Because of it, he had gathered quite a few scattered soldiers along the way. The few hundred loyal men he had started with had now grown to nearly a thousand.
Yet that hope was soon shattered.
On the riverbank outside the Twins, two forces faced each other with swords drawn.
One flew a black-and-white banner: House Vance of Wayfarer's Rest.
The other belonged to House Dustin of Barrowton in the North. Robb vaguely recognized their leader as Countess Barbrey Dustin, renowned for her fierce temperament.
Between them, they must have numbered over two thousand, and a clash could erupt at any moment.
Robb frowned and urged his horse forward.
As he drew closer, he could clearly hear their argument.
"...Who was it who mocked us Riverlanders for being weak, saying we needed your northern warriors to save us?"
"And now? Aren't you fleeing like rabbits beneath the Targaryens' iron hooves yourselves?"
"Bullshit!" Barbrey's voice was as sharp as a blade. "If it weren't for you spineless Riverlanders, how would we have ended up like this?"
"We marched south to