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GOT Chapter 93: Council After the Rain
🕑 Added 2025-08-26 03:38:46 +0000 UTCKal patted the stone wall before him again, unable to suppress a sigh at the unfavorable situation. He lifted his gaze toward Blackwood Vale, where the thin morning mist had already dispersed.
In the valley, the common folk—who had been clinging to survival in their homes ever since the enemy’s depredations and the fall of their lord’s castle—were now all pouring out. Under the direction of a few leaders, they were cleaning the battlefield.
The people of this valley had been just as helpless before the Lannisters’ plunder. Their wealth and food stores had been seized, and many families had lost loved ones in this sudden calamity.
So, in their work now, there was a trace of hatred in their movements.
Kal noticed this, and a flicker of thought passed through his eyes.
Soon after, he also saw carts being gathered and driven out of the valley.
Seeing the empty wagons, and even horses without saddles, Kal instinctively felt a twinge of curiosity.
“What are they doing?” he asked a nearby sentry.
“Ser Kal,” the soldier replied, “I noticed they’re preparing to burn the bodies. They say the Riverlands’ warm, damp climate makes plague easy to spread.”
At these words, Kal realized that within Blackwood Vale, there truly were no trees.
Instead, there were houses, mills, and the castle itself, with only small stretches of bare, muddy ground.
The orchard through which he and his men had slipped in the night before had been one of the few exceptions. Beyond that, the valley stretched out in fields and farmland.
“I see. Was that the maester’s idea?”
“I heard it was, yes.”
Kal’s expression shifted to one of thoughtfulness, and he nodded slightly.
“Very well. I understand. Keep to your duties for now—someone will relieve you shortly. The master of this place has already prepared food for us.”
With a rough understanding of the situation, Kal made some adjustments to his original plan as he noted these details.
“It seems the Lannisters did not choose this place at random,” Kal thought to himself.
That night raid had saved the garrison of Raventree Hall, who now, thanks to their host’s hospitality, enjoyed a hearty meal.
The battlefield within and without the walls was being cleared in good order.
Aside from the necessary sentries keeping watch against scattered Lannister troops possibly returning, Kal ordered the rest of his men to rest immediately.
After a night of rain-soaked forced march and battle, of taut nerves and fighting for their lives, a weariness had set in that words could not capture—especially after a full meal.
Hoster Blackwood carried out his role as acting lord of the castle well. With the reluctant help of the steward and the maester, he had provided Kal and his two hundred men with a place of comfort and ease to rest.
They slept straight through to the afternoon, and one by one, all awoke.
Once he confirmed everyone had rested and the guard rotations were set, Kal immediately gathered the relevant people for a council.
This time, he even summoned Hoster Blackwood himself, along with the maester called Moser.
But as soon as the meeting began, Kal turned his head toward Kossi.
“Tell me first about our losses last night.”
The moment Kal opened the council with that question, everyone present instantly grew solemn. All eyes turned toward Kossi.
Under their collective gaze, Kossi first cleared his throat, his expression hardening.
“My lord, in this battle where you led us through the rain to assault Raventree Hall, our losses were not serious—in fact, we could even say we were fortunate!”
“In total, only thirteen of our brothers were injured. Not a single one died, and none were gravely wounded.”
“The worst of them was during hand-to-hand combat, when he was shoved off the battlements and broke an arm and a leg in the fall.”
“As for the remaining twelve, their wounds were but minor injuries suffered once the Lannisters managed to rally and put up a defense.”
“My lord, this was a resounding victory!”
“It was your wisdom and valor that made us unstoppable!”
The more Kossi spoke, the more excited he became, his eyes glowing as if he had returned to the battlefield of the previous night.
And once the men heard that not a single brother had died, the tension in the council eased. Carried along by Kossi’s praises of Kal, the atmosphere turned lighter.
One by one, they recalled Kal’s rampage in the rain-drenched night—like a war god descended, crushing skulls with one swing of his hammer and shattering men with the next. Their blood ran hot at the memory, as though they themselves had been infused with dragon’s fire.
Among those gathered, Hall could no longer restrain his awe. His eyes shone as he looked at Kal. “Lord Kal, you were like a warrior descended from the heavens!”
Hoover quickly chimed in. “Yes! Our lord single-handedly tore down all their defenses, and in the end, left those Lannister kittens trembling!”
Harris let out a booming laugh. “I still can’t get over the way they cried for their mothers! Ha-ha-ha!”
“This was a true triumph—two hundred men against a thousand, outnumbered five to one, and yet we seized a castle!”
“I can already picture how the bards will sing of Lord Kal’s legendary deeds!”
And so, what was meant to be a sober war council swiftly turned into a festival of praise under Kossi’s lead, every man trying to outdo the next with ever more extravagant words.
Kal, for his part, grew somewhat embarrassed. His eyes flicked to Hoster Blackwood, whose mouth hung half-open in shock, and to Maester Mose of Raventree, who was staring just as wide-eyed.
“All right, enough flattery. What matters is that none of our brothers were lost—that alone is worth celebrating.”
Seeing the tide of praise about to drown the meeting, Kal quickly cut them off.
For if he let them continue, he feared winter and the Night King might never arrive, because he himself would already have become the eternal sun of this world of ice and fire.
So before he himself grew blinding, Kal decisively ended their chorus of exaltation.
Kal cut short the flood of flattery with a firm gesture.
“So now, let us return to the matter at hand.”
The men quieted, though their eyes still burned with admiration as they looked at him. Kal ignored it, instead turning toward Hoster Blackwood, the acting lord of Raventree Hall.
With solemn expression, he said, “Hoster, may I trouble you to see to my wounded brothers with extra care? If possible, I do not wish to see them lose the chance to ride to war again.”
“Ser Kal, you overstate it. You and your men are our saviors. To care for them is an honor.” Hoster rose quickly to his feet at the request, his thin frame and youthful face—barely fifteen years of age—betraying nothing of the weight he carried.
He gave his pledge with equal earnestness. “Rest assured, I will see that Raventree’s physicians and maester give them the best treatment possible. And should any of them suffer lasting harm, I speak in the name of my father, Lord Tytos Blackwood: their remaining years will be spent under the care and favor of House Blackwood.”
Though young and slight, his sincerity was plain to see. Those gathered found themselves looking upon him more favorably.
Kal smiled and inclined his head. “On their behalf, I thank you for your kindness.”
Hoster quickly returned the gesture. “It is the honor of House Blackwood.”
Seeing that the boy was about to slip back into his formal airs, Kal waved for him to sit, adding with a feigned sigh, “Thanks be to the Seven for sparing us from losing a brother in this war. That alone is a blessing.”
With that, he closed the matter.
But at once he shed his smile, his face hardening again as he turned back to his men.
“Brothers, this assault on the castle was a major success. We not only reclaimed the stronghold that was lost, but slew most of the enemy as well.”
“As for the course of the battle, and the retaking of Raventree Hall from the enemy, I will report the truth of it to King Robert and Lord Eddard with all haste. When the time comes, I trust both the king and the Hand will be ready.”
At this, Kal allowed himself a small smile.
Those present understood his meaning and chuckled quietly.
But before their laughter could rise, Kal’s expression turned cold once more. He cleared his throat and went on: “Yet the war is not over. The final outcome is far from certain. So I must pour a little cold water over this heat.”
The sudden turn froze the smiles on their faces, and they looked at him strangely.
“My lord, but we—we’re not… mmmph—” Hall began to protest, but before he could finish, Kossi, quick as a snake, clamped his fingers over his comrade’s lips and pinched them shut. Hall’s half-formed words muffled into nothing but a whimpering hum.
