EPISODE II

We entered through the back-door and climbed up to the pantry. Soft yellow light beamed through the open windows, and the air smelt of cake and fresh biscuits. A counter had been pushed to the wall to make way for a rockingchair, and there was a stack of sealed letters on the table. Ned was standing above the papers with a cup of cider at his elbow, his pensive face a story without words. Ruth ran up to the old fellow and rapped her arms about him with love and affection. The good man winked back at me and proceeded to pour me a glass of water. I gratefully received the draft and gazed up at him in astonishment.

"I heard you two slide out the door about an hour ago and thought I'd feed you," he gently rasped. "Talking is hard work between new friends."

"Not as hard as living off of bark and wild honey," I warmly replied. "I needed time to clear my head and take a look around … Mullburrow was my choice."

"So you'll stay then," the old man murmured nibbling on a biscuit.

He shot a side-glance at Ruth who pretended not to notice. Ned was clearly amused. I shrugged and drained my glass.

"We best find you a job," the old man finally managed to say. "If you're going to build a new home, you need to know people, and the best way to do that is to make money. Tell me son, what are you good at?"

"Apart from marching and fighting we mean," Ruth grunted nudging me under the table. I nodded.

"The village guard doesn't seem to be all that busy," I pondered aloud. "So that wouldn't be a great choice … I'm terrible at dealing with money, and I can't mend a broken leg more than I can cook a three-course meal."

"That doesn't leave us with very much," Ruth laughed shaking her head. "What do they teach you up there in the North … To cook dead deer and kill petty lords … If you weren't a soldier, you would have starved to death."

"You did say you were a farmer," Ned interjected grinding his teeth. "But I can understand if you would want a change of pace. I could never put men to death like I used to … but there are some past skills which come in handy. Do you know how to string a bow?"

"Yes," I admitted remembering the cool forest about Winterfell. "My father brought me hunting many times. I was never good as my brothers, but I could kill game better than most … better than most lords I've met fighting South."

"Splendid," the old man exclaimed lifting his now empty cup. "That will do lad. There is a Hunter's Gild here you could join. You'd meet all sorts of folk there, and make more than a few friends so long as you kept out of trouble."

"The village huntsmen are very protective of their wives," Ruth explained with impish satisfaction. "A few lads joined the gild a few months ago and were caught sleeping with a member's young bride. Their hands were lopped off and fed to the wolves."

"That shouldn't be any trouble," I declared rolling my eyes. "I try to be an honest man."

"We all try," Ned stoically reflected. "Yet we all have our secrets …. Don't we Nathan?"

"Ai," I hurriedly mumbled. "A few …."

There was a knowing in the old man's gentle gaze that tore my heart. I knew what he wanted. He was attempting to puzzle out the truth. But I couldn't give it to him. Not yet. It wasn't that I didn't trust him. In actuality, I didn't trust myself. Talisa's blood still stained my conscience. Greywind's ghost still haunted my mind. What would the honorable Ned think if I told him the truth? What would Ruth think of me?

"I believe that's enough yammering for one morning," she snorted getting to her feet. "We will need to head off now if you want to catch the captain of the gild before he embarks on the hunt. Seven hells … Do you two ever shut up?"

"Never," the old man playfully grumbled briskly stacking the plates. "But I can see you're point. Now run or you'll lose Nathan a job. I can clean up for both of you."

"Are you sure?" I asked ambling toward the door. It wouldn't pay to appear rude.

"If I wasn't, I wouldn't be an old fart now," Ned half muttered pointing to the door. "Some of them are probably out there already. If you go, you'll find them …"

Sure enough, there were men in male on the road by the time we reached market. They were grim folk dressed in green and brown bearing bows longer than any I have ever seen. Their lords bore brighter shields and better gear, but were no older than their companions. The troop filed out the main-gate toward the forest a force to be reckoned with. A larger party of folk clad in fur coats and leather caps loitered about a tall wooden hall. This enormous house had four floors and stood a few feet from the village armory. One could only approach the gigantic structures by crossing a stone bridge built by the Night's Watch long ago. Statues of elk and deer glared from pillared columns loftier than the buttresses of the constable's court. The doors beyond spanned the length and width of the building and were stuffed with faces too numerous to count. Passing into the heart of the hall, there loomed the tallest elm tree I have ever clapped eyes upon. Its branches stretched out in all directions and hung over the hall like a banner of war. The elm's roots were confined to a basin of water that contained fish and turtles the huntsmen kept for pets. Stands were erected all about the pool overflowing with jackets and purses tailored from animal hide. There were shops and eateries burrowed into the very walls of the house, and in all of them were the decapitated heads of wild creatures culled from the wilderness. No words can describe my utter awe and amazement at gazing upon such a bounty. No trove east of the sea could boast such a collection. Ruth merely blushed and giggled at my ridiculous reactions.

"I don't know what to say," I marveled tenderly embracing her. "I could never have dreamed …"

"You could thank me you know," she pouted pretending to take offense. "There is more in this small village than in all the warring kingdoms."

"But who could have built such a center," I gasped frowning down at my hands. "I heard the Night's Watch helped construct works further South in the days before the mad king reigned."

"You forget Mullburrow has stood hidden in the forests for generations," she purred. "The Freys don't know what they have right under their very nose and none of the other lords. On the outside we look like a band of rustic farmers … But there were people here long before we came and they carved out the hills and dells. We merely constructed what we could on top of what they left behind."

"You mean the old ones," I sighed remembering Winterfell. "They held to the old Gods and were killed off by the newcomers."

"No," Ruth half whispered with excitement. "Not even they. Remember, those buggers never built anything bigger than a barrow. Whoever planted that tree and laid this marble floor was far more advanced. Chances are we'll never know."

"But I'm sure the Night's Watch added to this hall quit a lot, not to mention the bridge," I argued furrowing my brow. "I recognized the craftsmanship as soon as I got a closer look."

"Yes," she quietly said biting her lip. "That much is well known."

"You don't seem to be too fond of the Night's Watch," I laughed taking her hand. We strolled over to a bench and sat down beneath the shade of the great tree.

"I just don't understand how a man like that could be happy," she groaned shaking her head. "A man should have a wife if he wants one. Didn't that Winterfell bastard take up with those fools?"

"Yes," I tentatively said meeting her gaze. "John Snow always had great fondness for the wall."

"And didn't he ever long for a wife and children," she asked squeezing my hand. Her fingers were soft and smooth.

"I don't know," I frowned looking away. "He was a lord's bastard … I was just a soldier."

"Really," she giggled tugging me to my feet. "You seem to know a lot for just a soldier … far more than most."

"Now why would you think that," I snapped turning red. "I could have heard all that from a bowmen in the ranks … or a maid in the king's service … or …"

"I doubt," she smugly murmured. "But that's unimportant now. We've tarried long enough."

"Do you know where to go," I asked overwhelmed by the sheer size of the hall.

"If there's one thing you should know by now Nathan," she gibed, "It's that I know my way around."

Shrugging my shoulders, I resigned myself to her will. She guided me down a corridor and up a ramp furnished with ornate banisters. Red tapestries lined the passage, and there were yellow lamps along the way. At last we came to a mighty staircase engraved with many figures and astronomical markings. At their top was a solitary door bolted shut from the inside. The Sigel of a raven was etched into the wood, and there were other beasts figured there no tongue can describe.

Ruth barreled forward up the steps and knocked on the door three times. By this point we had strayed far from the main-hall and could hardly hear the throng of villagers we left behind. The chamber was almost silent now , and the lamplight seemed less bright. It was almost as though we had stepped into another kingdom- a realm of darkness and secrecy. At length, my companion beat harder on the entrance and called out in a loud voice.

"Come out Ulfric," she cried. "We know you're in there! Where is Captain Yoric! We need to speak with him …"

"Loitered in the hall I see," came a lad's voice from within. "He's out hunting … Go home and come back tomorrow."

"I don't believe you," she barked now kicking the door with all her might. "Beware Ulfric, or I'll report you."

"Oh you will now," the boy mumbled finally opening the door. He stood no taller than I did when I was about ten, and wore a miniature coat of male. On his head he wore a standard helm and wore a dagger at his side. In one glance, he was every bit the little warrior. I couldn't help but laugh.

"So the huntsmen model their ranks after the guard I see," I hysterically boomed. "Trust me kid … If you think killing men will get any easier think again. A deer only has antlers, but a man … well he has more than teeth, doesn't he?"

"Very well put," Ulfric boldly declared. "But if you challenge my honor again, I will have to."

"Oh just shut up son," a coarse voice interjected from somewhere inside. "You gave it your best shot."

The lad quickly hopped out of the way to make room for a tall man in his mid thirties. He had an eye patch and walked with a bad limp although both his legs appeared genuine. A long pale scar ran down his cheek, and on his belt hung a pair of long knives.

"What the hell do you want," he spat stumbling over to Ruth with almost bull-like ferocity. "This is my domain, my little realm. Do you know what happens to trespassers?"

"Oh no," she sarcastically replied feigning fear. "I can't help but tremble at your lordship's dominant majesty."

"You're father could crack a better joke than that," he sighed in a voice like gravel. "Tell me … Who is this man you bring with you? He doesn't look like anyone I've met before. What's his name?"

"Nathan," she smugly said. "Or at least, that is what he now calls himself. He was a soldier in Robb Stark's host before it was destroyed. Seeing as hunting is nothing knew to him, I brought him here to join the troop."

"Oh, why didn't you say so," he exclaimed lumbering over to me. "So long as you aren't a pain in the ass, we'd be willing to take you."

"I want the job," I firmly replied staring him down. "I'm here to work and kill some deer … not to mess around. I can assure you."

"Brilliant," the veteran warmly said shaking my hand. "You'll ride with my band tomorrow morning, crack of dawn if you can manage it. From there we'll see if you really know how to shoot."

"Trust me sir," I assured him with an impish grin. "I know what it is to hunt deer and wild bore."

"And your terms," he inquired gesturing to his eye patch. "It isn't easy work son; what's your price?"

"Gold," my companion immediately demanded. "He wants a percentage of the gild's profits along with the usual income …"

"What is this girl your spokesman," the huntsman jested fingering his knives. "Pretty … I have to admit, but very picky."

"I know what I want Yoric," I affirmed peering back at Ruth. "I know you do also."

"I bet," he rasped lighting a cigar. "I bet."

"Deal sealed then," I muttered. "Hand me the gear and we'll begin signing the papers."

"And must your poster-woman join you?" Yoric grunted. "No … No don't tell me. Just follow me."

"See Nathan," Ruth triumphantly said. "There is such thing as a good deal."

"Thank goodness," I replied following her into the office. "I hate lousy bargains."

The room smelt of cheap wine and ale. Maps and charts coated the walls, and there was a hot red hearth in the corner. Above the embers hung a stuffed deer head with its eyes poked out. They had been replaced by glass orbs for decoration and gleamed in the firelight. Yoric sat clumsily down at a low wicker table and gazed up at the dead thing with primal admiration.

"Isn't he beautiful," he remarked in an almost reverential tone. "Had to send the hounds on him nine times before."

"You know he won," my companion scowled with obvious contempt. "Seven hells … Boys and their toys."

"What do you mean," I asked turning to her in surprise. "Didn't he kill the bugger?"

"Yes …" she admitted squinting at Yoric's eye patch. "But the dead don't feel pain. Only the living do."

"That's a rather bleak way of putting it," the huntsman grunted shuffling uncomfortably in his seat. "If you're so high and mighty why haven't you joined us on the kill?"

"Maybe because I don't feel like hacking animals to pieces is fun," she retorted. "Unlike some people …"

"Then why did you bring your dear friend to sign up?" the captain snickered reaching for a pint of beer on the table. "Or was it his idea?"

"Why, that's no mystery," she laughed shaking her head. "I thought I'd actually bring a real man to the hunt, rather than one of those little boys you round up on weekends,"

At this Ulfric, who had been minding his own business by the door, opened his mouth to speak. Ruth shot him one dark glance and the lad went flying from the room without a word.

"You have some way with people," I commented smiling in her direction.

"Works every time," she replied unmistakably satisfied.

"Which reminds me," I murmured turning to Yoric, "Why weren't you at the hunt? A captain must always follow his men into battle. Why should it be different for any kind of chieftain?"

"To meet you," the huntsman slyly said staring me in the eye. His gaze was cool and unwavering. I shuttered.

"What do you mean?" Ruth asked gripping what could only have been a concealed knife in her coat pocket.

"News came up the highway yesterday," the huntsman explained without breaking his stare. "Old Ned had a guest from the Frey-Country … Probably a sell-sword or renegade. And here you are at my doorstep looking for the only job a fugitive can hold …"

"So what?" I barked grinding my teeth. "You get a lot of deserters don't you?"

"Well I was up in the North-Country after the slaughter," he interjected taking a swig from his pint. "Bodies all over the place … I had to take a peak … And weren't the Starks great hunters? Who knows … Maybe as good as you. Come to think of it, didn't the Stark boy die some while ago? What a pity they trapped him so soundly … Although even that is hard for me to believe. Surely his mother would have hatched some kind of escape plan- Don't you think?"

"I see what you mean," I darkly answered taking a step forward. "So tell me my lord, what do you want?"

"Nothing," Yoric laughed lifting his pint. "I just want to help."

"Splendid," Ruth sighed continuing to glare down at the wild fellow. "Just what we needed, another troublemaker."

But I could tell by the tone of the huntsman's voice and the way he grinned up at me, I was in good hands. My contract, such as it was, turned out to be no more than a stained dish-rag with a few words scribbled on the front. I signed the fragile document and proceeded to partake of my new friends' better ale. The cup which I drank from was made of tin and had been only recently washed. I swallowed the draft bracing myself for the worst, but found I rather enjoyed the rustic brew.

"By all the Gods," I barked putting down my cup. "Mullburrow never ceases to amaze. I don't think there's one spot on earth more full of scoundrels and secrets than this hollow."

"You can say that again," the captain bellowed, clearly a tad more tipsy than usual. "You know, we made a rather interesting find a few days ago."

"O really," Ruth chuckled clenching her fists. "Let me guess … A new recipe for Sheppard's Pie?"

"Well, that too," Yoric relented getting up out of his chair. "It will be Nathan's little present if I can find the damned thing."

The huntsman nearly stumbled over his own feet by the time he found what he was looking for. At first it looked like a tall bundle covered in a thick brown cloth.

"We came across a barrow in the forest," the captain grumbled handing me the bundle. "The bones were sullied and burnt. All the gold and jewels had been looted … But we found this!"

I unraveled the cords that bound the package together and uncovered what lay beneath. It was a spectacular sword, the likes of which I have never seen before. The pommel was made of wood and bore markings too dim to read. Many of them had been scratched out by battle and the ravages of time. The blade was still remarkably sharp and shown brightly in the light of the hearth. Looking on that ancient blade made me almost miss the thrill and peril of war. I sheathed the weapon in the old leather wrap I had been provided and laid it soundly on the table with awe and pride.

"Welcome to The Gild son," the huntsman warmly declared refilling my cup. "Drink up … You're grumpier when you're sober."