They can march on Casterly Rock if they so choose, and what's to stop them? My lords, we are beaten. We must sue for peace.
Peace? Tyrion swirled his wine thoughtfully, took a deep draft, and hurled his empty cup to the floor, where it shattered into a thousand pieces. "There's your peace, Sir Harys. My sweet nephew broke it for good and all when he decided to ornament the Red Keep with Lord Eddard's head. You'll have an easier time drinking wine from that cup than you will convincing Robb Stark to make peace now. He's winning... or hadn't you noticed?"
Two battles do not make a war, Sir Addam insisted. "We are far from lost. I should welcome the chance to try my own steel against this Stark boy."
Perhaps they would consent to a truce, and allow us to trade our prisoners for theirs, offered Lord Lefford.
Unless they trade three-for-one, we still come out light on those scales, Tyrion said acidly. "And what are we to offer for my brother? Lord Eddard's rotting head?"
I had heard that Queen Cersei has the Hand's daughters, Lefford said hopefully. "If we give the lad his sisters back... "
Sir Addam snorted disdainfully. "He would have to be an utter ass to trade Jaime Lannister's life for two girls."
Then we must ransom Sir Jaime, whatever it costs, Lord Lefford said.