The Twins

The bloody stench of King's Landing could hardly drift as far as the peaceful Riverlands. Having just landed, Clay stepped onto a heavily weathered boulder by the shore. Behind him, the White Harbor Guard was assembling.

The guard captain, who had changed into lighter armor that still offered ample protection, crossed the sandy soil, leaving a footprint with every step as he approached his young lord.

Once they reached the Riverlands, they were already in the south. It was such a short distance, yet here he could not feel the slightest chill. Instead, sweat had begun pouring down his back. This place was far hotter than White Harbor.

"Young master, we can set out in about an hour."

Although the Riverlands were densely populated, not a soul could be seen on this rugged, rocky beach. Clay and his men had brought enough provisions, but finding signs of habitation as soon as possible was best, regardless.

This was not the guard captain's first time taking this route, but his last journey from White Harbor to the Twins had been a year ago.

The dilapidated little dock had not moved, but the path inland he remembered had indeed vanished. The guard captain, who had been the first ashore, had led his men in a lengthy search before finding traces of the old route amid the dense weeds.

It was strange. The dock did not look as though it had gone a year without maintenance. After all, many ships sailing from White Harbor to land in the Riverlands took this route. Could they have been maintaining it themselves? The guard captain did not know.

After briefly reporting the situation to Clay, the guard captain stood to one side, quietly awaiting his orders. Before their departure, the old man had specifically instructed him that Clay had to give the orders first in every matter along the way.

Experienced as he was, he could raise objections, but only after Clay had made his decision.

Captain Stone had already sailed away aboard the great sailing ship Old Man of White Harbor. As agreed, once Clay left the Twins, he would send a raven to White Harbor. Upon receiving the message, the captain would return here with the fleet.

Looking at the slowly darkening sky overhead and the increasingly dense woods before him, Clay made his decision:

"Make camp here. Light fires and cook. Assign men to keep watch and patrol tonight. This isn't our territory anymore, after all."

The guard captain considered it. His original idea had been to spend the night in a small village he remembered not far into the woods, since it would at least offer roofs over their heads. But recalling the weed-choked path, he was no longer sure whether the village still existed.

In that case, there was no need to oppose the young master's decision. Besides, even with Earl Wyman's authorization, he did not really dare defy Clay.

Once the order was given, the 200 well-trained soldiers quickly began felling trees and lighting fires. They seemed to have anticipated this situation, having brought enough camp-building equipment for around fifty men.

With his longsword hanging at his side, Clay began wandering among them, occasionally exchanging a few words with soldiers who had stopped to rest. Though much of the conversation was dry and without substance, the soldiers were clearly far more relaxed than before.

By the time the sun disappeared below the horizon once more, the soldiers had put together a rudimentary camp. The horses were protected by wooden fencing, and numerous sentry posts were scattered around it.

Outside the camp, two ten-man squads with extensive hunting experience were sent out. Fully armed, they plunged straight into the woods. Their task was simple: drive away nearby wild animals and ensure the camp would not be disturbed during the night.

Of course, if they were lucky enough to catch some game, these men who had been hunters would not mind a more sumptuous dinner.

Early the next morning, guided by the guard captain, Clay led 200 cavalrymen into the woods, which were not particularly large.

Calling them woods was not quite accurate. The vegetation here was more like tall scrub. Leading the way, the guard captain had to find a suitable route through it to keep the horses following behind from being cut by the tough bushes.

After spending most of the day passing through the woods, Clay saw the Kingsroad, which linked north and south. Seeing this road meant they were heading in the right direction and could continue onward.

Three days later, Clay and his men finally encountered a House Frey patrolman near the Green Fork. The timid fellow went pale with fright at the sudden appearance of 200 fully armed cavalrymen before him and even drew his sword.

Had he not recognized the dozen or so merman banners flying among the White Harbor troops, he would probably have turned and fled by then.

"Greetings, man of House Frey. We are troops from White Harbor, escorting our young master Clay to the Twins to visit Lord Walder Frey himself."

The guard captain deliberately emphasized the word "Lord," because there were several people named Walder Frey in House Frey now, and he did not want such minor details to cause unnecessary trouble.

House Frey had presumably told them Clay was coming, and it seemed everyone in the family welcomed his arrival, for the guard immediately adopted an exceptionally respectful expression.

"My lord, I will take you to the Twins."

He did not know who Clay was, so he bowed toward the group. Since Clay had not stepped forward to identify himself, he could not ask.

Clay nodded, relaxing a little now that they had finally reached their destination. The latter half of this journey had been little different from an expedition into the wilderness. Only on the Kingsroad had they seen a few people.

As the Frey soldier led the way, Clay thought for a moment, then called over the guard captain riding nearby.

"Go talk to him. See if you can learn something about the situation within House Frey. Also, I need to know whom he's taking us to. We can't make the wrong first step through the gates of the Twins."

After spending half a minute turning his young master's words over in his mind, the guard captain understood what he meant. He, too, knew that House Frey was divided into complicated factions, but as someone who was not a noble, he would not consider matters from a noble's perspective.

As Clay saw it, he had to meet Lord Walder Frey himself directly on this visit. As for the other Freys, he would make plans after contacting the White Sea Guard stationed here.

Meeting these Freys rashly might entangle him in some unexpected situation again. Clay found it troublesome and had no interest in it whatsoever.

Before his departure, Steward Rivers of the White Sea Guard had told him that he had already sent every man he could muster in the Riverlands to the Twins. Someone would contact Clay once he arrived.

Following the Frey soldier onward, Clay finally saw the Green Fork, then the bridge, and beyond it the countless twin-tower banners fluttering above the bridgehead fortress.

These were the Twins. At his first sight of them, only one thought entered Clay's mind: If I were commanding an army, how would I take them?

The Frey storyline begins. After all, this was the vital chokepoint barring the North's army from marching south. Our Clay had not come south for sightseeing. The Twins were a suitable place for conspiracies to unfold.