LGHTNOVELBOOK Chapter 45: The Trap is Set
Chapter 45: The Trap is Set
The tension in Riverrun was palpable. Every soldier, every servant, every villager seemed to carry the same weight of anticipation. Tywin Lannister's forces were drawing closer, and though his advance had slowed, no one believed he would retreat.
In the war room, Ivar Sunblode stood before the familiar map of the Riverlands, its surface now covered in fresh markings of battles, supply routes, and defensive positions. Around the table, his most trusted allies waited for him to speak, their faces a mix of exhaustion and determination.
"We've disrupted Tywin's supply lines," Ivar began, his tone calm but firm. "But it's not enough. He's still advancing, and we can't outlast him in a war of attrition. If we're going to win, we need to force him into a decisive battle—on our terms."
Roland Emberhill, seated to Ivar's left, leaned forward, his jaw tight. "You mean to lure him into a trap?"
"Yes," Ivar said, meeting Roland's gaze. "But not just any trap. Tywin is too smart for obvious bait. We need to give him a reason to believe he can win."
Lysa Blackthorne, standing near the hearth, crossed her arms. Her sharp eyes flicked to Ivar. "And what bait do you propose we use? If we're not careful, this plan could backfire spectacularly."
Ivar exhaled slowly, his hands gripping the edges of the table. He could feel the weight of every decision pressing down on him, but he kept his voice steady. "We let him think Riverrun is weaker than it is. We give the appearance of internal strife—conflicting orders, delayed responses, poorly guarded supply depots. He'll see an opportunity to break us, and when he takes it, we'll spring the trap."
Duncan Greenfield frowned, his brow furrowing. "That's a dangerous gamble. If Tywin realizes it's a ruse, he'll adjust, and we'll lose the element of surprise."
Timothy Sunrise, leaning casually against the wall, grinned. "Dangerous, sure. But that's what makes it fun, isn't it? Tywin loves thinking he's the smartest man in the room. Let's give him just enough rope to hang himself."
The council exchanged glances, the room falling into a tense silence. Finally, Roland spoke, his voice heavy. "How do we make this work, Ivar? What's the plan?"
Ivar straightened, his expression resolute. "We'll position our forces to create the illusion of disarray. Roland, you'll pull back some of your troops from the Red Fork, but leave enough behind to make it look like you're trying to hold the line. Lysa, I need your spies to spread rumors of dissent among our lords—whispers that some are considering surrendering to Tywin."
Lysa arched an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "You want me to make the Riverlands look like a sinking ship? That won't be hard. Some of the lords are already grumbling."
"Use that," Ivar said. "But control it. We need the rumors to reach Tywin, but not enough to cause real panic."
"And what about the bait itself?" Roland asked.
Ivar's gaze hardened. "We'll leave a supply depot near Maidenpool lightly defended. Just enough to make it look vulnerable. When Tywin sends a force to capture it, we'll ambush them."
Timothy's grin widened. "Now we're talking. You want me to lead the ambush?"
"Yes," Ivar said. "Take your enhanced soldiers and position them in the woods surrounding the depot. Once Tywin commits his forces, hit them hard and fast."
Duncan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "And what if Tywin sends a larger force than we expect? If he overpowers Timothy's men, the trap could fail."
"That's why we'll have reinforcements hidden nearby," Ivar replied. "Roland, your archers will be positioned on the hills overlooking the depot. If the ambush falters, you'll provide cover."
Roland nodded, though his expression remained tense. "It's a good plan, but it's risky. If anything goes wrong…"
"I know," Ivar said quietly. "But it's a risk we have to take."
The council broke for the evening, each member departing to prepare for their role in the plan. Ivar remained in the war room, staring at the map as the firelight danced across its surface.
Lysa returned, her footsteps soft on the stone floor. She approached him cautiously, her sharp gaze studying his face.
"You're worried," she said.
"I'd be a fool not to be," Ivar replied without looking up. "This plan hinges on Tywin making a mistake. If he doesn't take the bait…"
"He'll take it," Lysa said firmly. "Tywin's pride is his greatest weakness. He won't pass up a chance to crush us if he thinks we're faltering."
Ivar finally looked at her, his expression softening. "You sound more confident than I feel."
Lysa smirked, though there was a hint of warmth in her eyes. "Someone has to be. And besides, you've pulled off riskier plans before."
"That doesn't mean this one will work," Ivar said.
"No," Lysa agreed. "But if anyone can make it work, it's you."
Timothy and his team set out under the cover of darkness, their movements silent as they made their way toward the designated ambush site. The woods surrounding the supply depot were dense, their branches forming a natural canopy that blocked out the moonlight.
As they reached their positions, Timothy surveyed the area, his sharp eyes scanning for weaknesses. He crouched beside Serah, one of his most trusted soldiers, and spoke in a low voice.
"Remember, we hit them hard and fast. No hesitation. If they get the chance to regroup, we're in trouble."
Serah nodded, her expression resolute. "They won't get the chance."
The hours dragged on, the stillness of the night amplifying every sound. Timothy felt his muscles tense as he waited, his mind racing with thoughts of what could go wrong.
"Come on, you bastards," he muttered under his breath. "Take the bait."
At dawn, the Lannister force appeared. A column of infantry accompanied by a handful of cavalry moved toward the depot, their golden banners catching the early morning light. Timothy's grip tightened on his daggers as he watched them approach.
"They're here," Serah whispered.
"Wait for my signal," Timothy said, his voice barely audible.
The Lannister soldiers entered the depot, their movements cautious but confident. They found the supplies unguarded, just as planned.
"Now," Timothy hissed.
The ambush was swift and devastating. Enhanced soldiers burst from their hiding places, their speed and strength overwhelming the Lannister troops. Arrows rained down from Roland's archers on the hills, cutting down those who tried to flee.
Timothy moved like a shadow, his daggers flashing as he dispatched enemy after enemy. The Lannisters were caught completely off guard, their disciplined ranks crumbling under the assault.
As the battle raged, a Lannister officer shouted orders, trying to rally his men. Timothy zeroed in on him, weaving through the chaos to reach his target.
"You should've stayed in the Rock," Timothy said, his grin sharp as he drove his dagger into the officer's chest.
Within minutes, the Lannister force was decimated. The survivors fled back toward Tywin's main army, their retreat a clear sign that the ambush had succeeded.
Back at Riverrun, Ivar received the news with a mix of relief and determination.
"It worked," Roland said, though his tone was cautious. "We dealt a heavy blow to Tywin's forces."
"But it's not over," Lysa added. "Tywin will respond, and he won't hold back."
"I know," Ivar said. "But for now, we've bought ourselves time. And every day we hold is another step closer to victory."
As night fell over Riverrun, Ivar stood on the battlements, watching the horizon. The trap had worked, but the war was far from over. Tywin was still out there, and Ivar knew the lion would not rest until he had his revenge.
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