"I must have that crossing!" Robb declared, fuming.
"Oh, our horses might be able to swim the river, I suppose, but not with armored men on their backs.
We'd need to build rafts to pole our steel across, helms and mail and lances, and we don't have the trees for that. Or the time.
Lord Tywin is marching north... " He balled his hand into a fist.
"Lord Frey would be a fool to try and bar our way," Theon Greyjoy said with his customary easy confidence.
"We have five times his numbers.
You can take the Twins if you need to, Robb."
"Not easily," Catelyn warned them, "and not in time.
While you were mounting your siege, Tywin Lannister would bring up his host and assault you from the rear."
Robb glanced from her to Greyjoy, searching for an answer and finding none.
For a moment he looked even younger than his fifteen years, despite his mail and sword and the stubble on his cheeks.
"What would my lord father do?" he asked her.
"Find a way across," she told him. "Whatever it took."
The next morning it was Sir Brynden Tully himself who rode back to them.
He had put aside the heavy plate and helm he'd worn as the Knight of the Gate for the lighter leather-and-mail of an outrider,
but his obsidian fish still fastened his cloak.