Robb
Today was the first true test of Robb Stark as Warden of the North. Ser Rodrick Cassel came to him early in the morning as he ate with his brothers. There he delivered the news.
There was a disturbance in the Lands of House Hornwood. The Lord Halys Hornwood and his son Daryn Hornwood had died. The cause of which is unknown but more importantly the Lady Donella Hornwood had been taken hostage in her own castle. Rumors reported that it was a group of men led by Ramsay Snow, the Bastard of Roose Bolton of the Dreadfort. Even worse were the rumors of what they'd done. They'd terrorized the surrounding countryside burning villages, killing peasants and raping the women of their conquest. He did not want to imagine what vile things Lady Hornwood was going through.
His decision was clear, death to Ramsay Snow and all those responsible. He rode out from Winterfell by mid-afternoon with Theon Greyjoy, Rodrick and a hundred Stark Bannermen. The Ancestral Sword of his house, Ice was stuck into his saddle while he kept his own sword at his belt. His mother watched him go from the tower. Not too long ago she watched her husband ride away and now she watched her eldest son go. She prayed to the Gods that he returned safely.
They rode first to the Dreadfort home of House Bolton, one of the most powerful houses in the North. The gates were opened wide and The Warden of the North was received graciously by his host, his wolf Grey Wind by his side. Roose Bolton met him in the courtyard with thick black furs but a pale thin face.
"My Lord." He greeted in a soft but deep voice." To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" But he sounded as if he already knew. His men moved to help Robb off his horse but they were stopped by a wave of the young lord's hand.
"You know why I'm here Lord Bolton." Robb said to him. A small smile graced Roose's lips." Where is your bastard?"
"I have not seen him." He answered casually. His eyes were a bright white, like two moons and it frightened Robb." Fear not my lord, I have sent my own son Domeric to deal with this issue." Robb stood taller on his horse.
"The North is my country Lord Bolton. And I will the King's Justice done." To the Roose did not comment but nodded in head." When did your son leave?"
"Yesterday morning My Lord. I've no doubt he's made it to Hornwood by now and is dealing with the issue at hand." Robb jerked the reins on his horse and turned towards the gate.
"Thank you Lord Bolton." He said before riding out of the Dreadfort, Grey Wind running with him side by side. His men giving hard chase after him. Roose Bolton managed another little smile as he watched the young Lord disappear.
"Goodbye." He said coldly with a slight wave of his hand.
They rode hard after that. Robb was determined to get to Hornswood before there was more bloodshed. To Lady Donella, Domeric and especially Ramsay Snow. Robb wanted to do his father proud and do just what he would have done in this situation.
They made camp in the night and in the morning rode out hard again. They found a village that had been attacked. The houses burned into ash the people lying dead in the streets. Men, women, children, little boys and girls, even the dogs were killed. No one was spared. Robb had never seen such cruelty before.
Ser Rodrick urged his young lord forward, so that they might reached their destination sooner before anything else happened. But Robb did not take his advice. Against the will of his Master at Arms and the cost of slowing down his party, Robb had his men gather the dead and bury them.
They were buried beneath the dirt and rocks, Robb himself helping to move corpses and dig graves. He prayed to his old Gods for them and prayed that on others be harmed other than those it was all done and the dead buried they rode out again. But it had cost them half a day.
Then finally they came to their destination. There on the edge of Sheepshead hills between the neighboring lands of House Bolton and House Manderly, was the castle Hornswood. But it was not as they had expected.
The gates had been opened giving them full range to go inside, and the sight was as worse as the village. There were dead men everywhere. Some were men in full armor plating and chain mail while others were just in simple leathers, even breeches and undershirts. Besides the dead the only banner that was flying was that of House Bolton, the flayed man with a pink background.
"Search for survivors!" Robb ordered. He dismounted from his horse and searched with his men. He himself looked for the Lady Donella. The dead lay all around and were soon piled up and put together. Robb had planned to bury them just as he had to the villagers.
Theon searched with Robb. Together they searched the inner castle and climbed the towers. It was there they found Donella Hornswood.
Robb had heard the faint sound of short raspy breaths. He paused and put a hand to his ear, listening hard. Theon stopped with him. This is where the Direwolves came in handy.
Grey Wind had caught a scent and followed after it. And Robb followed after him.
"Go boy, go Grey Wind!" He encouraged. The wolf led them to a wooden door with a small slit to look through. The wolf perched himself on the door and howled. Robb was a step behind him and jumped forward looking through the small slit.
He could see people inside, lying on the floor. But one of them was distinct enough to make out. While everyone else had been a man this room had the only woman in it. It was a small space with only a few feet between the bed and the door with a single open window.
"Get back!" Robb commanded to Theon and Grey Wind. The with his great big shoulders Robb jumped forward and knocked the door clean off it's hinges. Theon and Grey Wing followed after him into the room.
Their search had ended but not in a positive way. There were three dead in the room. Lady Donella on the bed, her cloths ripped her exposing her bare chest. Her stomach and neck had been savagely cut at, blood staining the bed and dripping onto the floor. On the ground were two men. One with his a sword slash across his stomach, his guts spilt out onto the floor, strangely enough the man had flowers in his hair.
The last was a man in metal chain male, with a leather shirt with the symbol of House Bolton on it. There was no doubt to Robb who this was. If there wasn't all, he could tell by look alone for it was the spitting image of Roose Bolton. Domeric lay with his back against the wall, sword in his hand. Blood running from his left arm and onto his sword hand from a wound that ripped open the mail at his chest, He may have been dead but his eyes were still open. He had the same white eyes as his father.
Robb had met him before during the Harvest Feast. And While Robb could say he was afraid of Roose Bolton he could not say the same of his son. Domeric was a quiet but a kind boy. They rode together and played together when he came to Winterfell. Domeric had no brothers of his own and sought to make those deep connections with others. Perhaps he tried that with his bastard brother as I did with Jon Robb thought.
Robb bent down and closed the Lord's eyes with his fingers. Sighing deeply. Not only had he not succeed in bringing the King's Justice but his people had paid the price for it in blood. House Hornswood and been destroyed and the Dreadfort had lost it's heir.
Robb was stirred from his thoughts by the howling of Grey Wind. He turned around to see the wolf propped up against the wall howling at the window. Robb rose to his feet and went to him. He looked down the window to see big figure dressed all in black racing along the castle walls.
"Stop him!" Robb roared from the window. And his cry aroused the attention of his men and they gave chase. It did not last long after he gave the command. There was no option for the fleeing man unless he meant to jump over the castle walls and nearly fifty feet to his death.
He jumped into the courtyard instead racing past the Stark bannermen. He must have been hurt, his legs carried him but he kept one arm wrapped around the other. He ran towards the gate but was surrounded in the wide open courtyard.
Ser Rodrick stood before him with sword drawn and that slowed his pace. And as he slowed he found himself suddenly surrounded. Robb made his way through the crowd and towards the man, Theon at his back Grey wind at his side.
"Who are you?" Robb commanded. The man turned to him. He had sloped shoulders and a crooked face with long dark hair. He gave Robb a short strange look before bending to his knees crying.
"My Lord, My Lord thank the Gods you've come." Robb had no sooner blinked than the man came crawling to him, kissing his hands." Thank the Gods." Robb took his hand away and took a step back.
"Who are you?" He asked.
"R-Reek M'Lord." He said in a small pitiful voice.
"And what were you doing here?" Robb asked.
"I rode with Ser Domeric to find Ramsay Snow." He quivered." He lies dead up in that tower, the both of them."
"Why did you run, then?"
"Afraid M'Lord. Afraid you were more of Ramsay's men come to kill me." Robb was silent as he studied the crying man. His arm was bleeding no doubt apart of the battle in the tower. His story seemed plausible and he was ready to accept it. Until he got a look at Reek's eyes. There were pale as milk just like Roose Bolton's and just like Domeric's. And they frightened Robb in the same way.
"No." Robb said in a stern voice." Take him!" He ordered. The men murmured in confusion. Reek jumped to his feet.
"M'Lord please!" He pleaded.
"This man is not who he says he is. He is Ramsay Snow bastard of Roose Bolton, take him!" Now the men lunged forward. Rodrick from behind, Theon from the front and half a dozen other men grabbed Ramsay by his arms and legs. Robb returned to his horse and took Ice from its sheath.
"Get him on his knees." He commanded. He turned around and made his way across the courtyard to see Ramsay bent over the butcher's cutting block, his arms behind his back. Robb held Ice with two hands and held it tight. There was silence next. " Any last words?" Ramsay reared his head back as far as he could to spit in Robb's direction. It did not travel far landing in the dirt before his boots.
"I'll kill you!" He screeched like an owl." My father, my father will kill you. I am the heir of the Dreadfort!" He hollered. He continued to cry out over and over again. Robb took a deep breath and spoke the words he'd heard his father say dozens of times.
"In the name of Robert of the House Baratheon, First of his Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men ,Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm I Robert of the House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North I do sentence you to die." Ramsay's hollering and silenced when he spoke but he continued all the same. He blinked before raising the great sword up and over his head. It was heavier than expected and he fear it might slip from his grasp or knock him over. But he just gripped it tighter and swung down.
With one mighty cut he severed Ramsay Snow's head clear from his shoulders and sent it rolling into the dirt. He could have let him take the black to join the Night's Watch. But there were some deeds that couldn't go unpunished. Robb's first mission as Warden of the North was finished, the King's Justice had been done.
He had his men quickly get to work on bodies. They would be buried just outside the castle. And to his luck his mission had become an ever greater success.
"Lord Stark." Theon called. Robb turned to see his men handling the body of Ser Domeric." He's alive!"
Jon
He trained with Matthos in the square of the red keep. Jumping back and forth, kicking up dirt as they went cursing and groaning. Their swords were wooden. Jon at least had a real one he'd brought from Winterfell but Matthos had only ever held a training sword, either wooden or with a dulled point.
Jon swung his blade up clashing with Matthos' blade. Then he quickly gripped it with both hands and one strong swing of his arms, disarmed Matthos sending his blade to the ground. Jon pointed his blade at the boy's throat.
"I yield." Matthos panted with a smile.
"Don't stand so still." Jon told." It's harder to hit a moving target." Matthos nodded his understanding. Jon turned and bent down to retrieve Matthos' sword. But someone else picked it up before him. Jon looked up and saw the Crowned Prince Edric Baratheon standing before him.
"You're Grace!" Matthos greeted getting to one knee. Jon prepared to do that but was stopped when Edric's hand hit his shoulder.
"None of that." He said." We are family, we do not bow to each other." He helped Jon to his feet. Edric was reminded Jon of Robb. Big and tall with a likeable character and a friendly face. The face of a King" You neither." Edric pointed to Matthos. "Get up!" Jon smiled as his cousin turned back and faced him." Alright come on." He said taking a step back and raising his practice sword." Let's see what you're made of."
"You don't know what you're getting into." Jon smirked raising his sword.
"I'm a warrior's man, just like my father." And with that he had Jon clashed swords. They circled around the yard swinging up and down, their wooden blades clashing and echoing around the keep.
"I've never beaten a prince before." Jon laughed. He swung his sword forward only for Edric to block.
"Be a shame to start now." Edric responded. He lunged forward, swinging his own sword.
"My Prince!" Ser Mryn Truant yelled across the yard. He marched over his armor clanking as he went." You shouldn't be out here your grace." He said to the Prince." Not in the company of these rats."
"Now, Now." Said a much calmer voice. Everyone turned to see another Kingsguard, Jaime Lannister appear." The Prince was only having a little fun." He smiled at the boy." Though I would get going your grace, I hear your mother is looking for you." A quick look of shock passed over Edric's eyes before he turned and ran down the yard, dropping the sword to the ground." There goes your prince." Jaime said to Ser Mryn." You'd better get after him before he finds himself in some more trouble." Ser Mryn's face twisted at him before he did exactly what Jaime said. In their absence that left only Ser Jaime, Jon Snow and Matthos Seaworth. "Coming along are we then?" He asked with a smirk, looking between two boys. Matthos froze up and Jon rose up to his full height." You boys look good when you're playing with toy swords." He gave the wooden one at his feet a kick, knocking it over to Matthos." Have you ever held a real sword?"
"No." Matthos shook his head, holding the wooden one in his hands.
"I have." Jon answered. Jaime expected as much. Matthos was the son of a smuggler but Jon was the son of a very high lord, of course he must know a thing or two.
"Have you swung it yet?" He turned his full attention to the bastard.
"Of course, I have."
"I mean at someone." Jon's face dulled." So you've never killed a man?" Jon shook his head. Jaime turned to Matthos and he did the same." Strange thing first time you cut a man. Realize we're nothing but sacks of meat, blood and bone." He took a step closer to Jon noticing the pale look on his face." You want to be a Kingsguard boy?" Jon nodded his head." And you?" He turned to Matthos.
"I'll be a bannerman of Storms End, M'Lord." Jaime just looked between the two boys with a smirk, taking a step away from Jon now standing between them. He was sixteen when he killed his first man, one quick swing of his sword and his head was gone. That was real fighting not practice with toy swords.
"I hope you both know what you're getting into." He said in thick oily voice. He turned and clasped his hand on Jon's shoulder."If you mean to be a Kingsguard, you'll have to follow the Prince into war someday. And war isn't a game." With that he turned and walked away.
"The Prince is my cousin." Jon's voice stopped him. He cocked his golden head over his shoulder and starred back with emerald green eyes." I will do whatever I can to protect him, Kingsguard or not."
"Would you?" Jaime turned back to him." Then tell me what if your brother rebelled against the crown and came to the Capital for your Prince's Head. What would you do then, hm?" Jon's faced paled. It was hard for him to imagine but Jaime Lannister was born when something like that was real. Eventually he found his courage.
"I swear not to do what you did." He said with as much confidence as he could muster. He thought he was being witty but The Lannister only smiled in reply, as if it was a good thing. With nothing else to say the Kingslayer walked away.
Eddard
Day after day more and more people arrived in King's Landing for the Tournament that Ned was trying to cancel. He though it was an unnecessary, unwarranted, and unwanted something Ned didn't want to attach his name to. People from all across the Seven Kingdoms came as far as Sunspear and the Eyrie. And the Royal Family had a Great House to Entertain.
Mace Tyrell the Warden of the South had arrived with three hundred knights and his two youngest children Ser Loras and Margaery Tyrell. That night they feasted with the Royal Family. The hall was crammed with people with Robert and Lyanna at the head of the table, Ned beside his sister and Mace beside the King. The Children sat at the table below them.
Prince Edric was in the corner with Jon and his friend Sam Tarly, drinking wine and taking of their advances in their fields. Ned had meet Sam on several occasions. A kind soul Ned thought thinking the boy was much better suited to a life of books than swords. Sansa had taken a quick liking to Margeary. Sharing gossip and secrets over lemons cakes. Margaery was like the sister Sansa always wanted but never had it seemed. And Ser Loras spoke with Renly. They seemed close as kin since Loras squired for Renly many years ago. Princess Bella, Lyanna's only daughter blushed redder than a cherry when the handsome knight smiled at her. Arya had slipped off early in the feast with Prince Gendry. Lyanna had sent Ser Arys Oakheart and Jory Cassel to find and keep them out of trouble.
And the feast was plentiful, many of which coming along with Mace from HighGarden. Apples, Grapes, Berries, Suckling Pig, Boar and six different kinds of pie. Ned could hardly believe the sight of it, such a thing could keep all of Winterfell full for months.
Winter is coming, Ned remembered his House words. It had been Summer for ten years but Ned looked farther than that. There may be another long Winter ahead of them and the North would suffer the most as they always had. But perhaps this time could be different. Like his father before him he thought of the best for his people. The Reach was the most fertile of the Seven Kingdoms producing melons, peaches, apples, grapes, grain and some of the finest wines. When winter comes Ned would be glad to have fresh supplies at his call, and he knew just how to get them.
"Lord Tyrell." He called to the Warden of the South.
"Lord Stark." He responded, his mouth full of a chicken leg." Ah excellent bird." He muttered chewing the last of it down.
"Indeed." Ned agreed. He sat himself down in the empty chair next to Mace, though he found himself being pushed away by Lord Tyrell's large stomach." A fine feast." Ned shifted his attention across the room and to Mace's children. "Your son is a strong sword I hear."
"Yes, Yes. One of the finest in the Seven Kingdoms." Mace nodded his face jiggling like jello." I am most proud of him." Ned knew about the Knight of Flowers. He would ride his horse with a cape of roses handing them out to girls amongst the crowd. Young, Gallant and Handsome he seemed to Ned as well as others a true Knight. He knew Jon liked the boy asking him early on in the night about his victories in Tournaments and Melees.
"And your daughter is very lovely as well."
"That she is. Some call her the most beautiful women in all the Seven Kingdoms…except for the Queen that is." He quickly added at the end." You know some say they look alike."
"I do not see a resemblance." Ned responded. He planned to shift the conversation into his field." But I'm sure she has many suitors."
"That she does." Mace nodded, smiling with another piece of chicken in his hand.
"Who's her intended?"
"None at the moment." Ned nodded his acknowledgement.
Mace Tyrell had tried already to marry Margaery to Prince Edric in hopes of her being the future Queen, giving the prestige and royalty House Tyrell never had. But Robert and Stannis both held some resentment for House Tyrell for supporting the Targareyns and the Siege of Storm's End. And although the dragons were long dead and House tyrell had given no reason they weren't loyal, there was still some animosity between them, namely from Stannis. Who whenever he saw the Warden of the South dug his nails into his chair a little harder. The Lannister and the Arryns were other choices though Mace would ever again marry another one of his children to a Lannister let alone a dwarf or a boy still at his mother's breast.
Other contender's came from Walder Frey of the Twins who offered anyone of his sons or Grandsons. Many of his own bannermen such as the Tarlys, Redwyne, and Hightower had offered their names. But like Ned's own father Mace held himself for the highest offer.
"You know I have a son that is her age, and he is the Heir of Winterfell." Mace Tyrell shifted in his chair to face Ned fully.
"How very interesting. "He said." A good lad I am sure." Although the tone of his voice led Ned to believe that he had no idea where he intended to take this conversation.
"And from my wife, Catelyn the Riverlands are sworn to us so we share borders you and I." Mace again nodded while drinking his wine, some of the liquid spilling from his cup and onto his beard." I also have the heir to the Iron Islands as my ward, assuring their loyalty. So you see it would be in our best interest to join our houses." The North remembers but with a long winter coming he knew it would take more than the North to survive it.
Mace Tyrell beamed and toothy appearing behind his beard as the wet wine dripped from his chin. House Stark was one of the oldest, noblest, and were once Kings in their own right just as they are now. The Starks were loved by their bannermen who would follow their liege lords anywhere, and Mace felt like he never had that. The North was the largest of the Kingdoms, the Reach the second, connecting the two from the Riverlands they'd be a force in their own right. And with the weight the Starks already had in Court with Ned and Lyanna this marriage could be the stepping stone for House Tyrell to have what they always wanted.
"That's wonderful, Lord Stark!" Mace bounced in his chair like a child." A joyous idea! And don't you also possess a Valyarian steel sword."
"Ice." Ned told. Mace smiled again at the thought of a grandson with a Valyarian steel sword.
Catelyn
The Sun had set in the sky when Robb returned to Winterfell. He handed his horse off to the Stable boys and then headed to the main hall in hopes of a hot dinner. As he entered the dining hall he found his mother standing in the middle of the room a smile on her face from ear to ear.
"Good Evening mother." He walked forward and put an arm around her planting a kiss on her forehead. He walked around her and to the table where a fresh plate of salted beef and potatoes was waiting for him.
"A wonderful evening it is." Catelyn said. Robb could hear the sing-song tone of his mother's voice. He was standing in front of his meal as a servant poured him a cup of wine. But turned his attention from that to his mother.
"Is there something you wish to tell me?" Catelyn was shaking with excitement. She'd only received Ned's letter no more than an hour ago. He was well along with Lyanna and her children. Robert was trying to have a tournament in Ned's honor he was trying to stop. Sansa and Arys both enjoyed the Capital. Bran had a fun day riding and practicing his archery, and little Rickon was learning to count. The Bastard Jon snow was finally out of her house but the most important news she saved for now.
"You're getting married." Robb dropped his cup and spilt his wine all over the floor.
