Gendry's build and looks bore the unmistakable stamp of House Baratheon: caste toughness. Those azure eyes, that smooth, straight, short hair, that masculine physique. Gendry was as handsome as the king had been in his youth, and slightly taller.
"A great victory, my lord." Earl Tytos immediately sank to one knee, utterly respectful, then signaled for Ser Edmure to show some sense.
Earl Tytos stood stiffly, with a short grey beard and a hooked nose. Intricate vines of black jade adorned his bright yellow armor, and a cloak woven from crow feathers hung from his lean shoulders. It was Earl Tytos who had held fast at Riverrun, enduring until now.
"Th-thank you for coming to our rescue, Lord Gendry," Ser Edmure stammered as well.
"You have both suffered." A siege was painful for everyone, whether attacker or defender.
"You deserve the credit," Gendry told Tytos. Had Tytos not been tenacious and quick-witted, Riverrun might truly have fallen. Duke Hoster was frail and sickly, and Tytos had overseen most of the city's defenses.
"I kept Riverrun safe, but my own home may have been burned." Bitterness showed on Tytos's face. While he had been here protecting Riverrun, the Lannisters might already have set fire to his own castle.
Shame appeared on Edmure's face. For knights and commanders, incompetence was a sin.
"Some slipped through the net, Lord Tytos. The commander of the southern camp was very sharp and has already fled. Though it seems not everyone got away. The Mercenaries in the camp are rebelling," Gendry said.
With their wealth and coastline, the Lannisters could readily recruit those gold-loving Mercenaries and free riders. Even the hardened Mercenaries in the Twin Cities who refused to accept Gendry's new order still had a living to make. At worst, they could go elsewhere to