Author's Notes –

I did miss a sentence in the previous chapter so I had to go back and edit it again. The new version of the previous chapter should be up by now so please reread it.

Marach

The proceedings in the throne room made the air thick with tension as everyone eyed the former crown prince turned bastard. The boy would obviously choose to live, but would he keep his word and not rise up against the current king? The assassin doubted it. While he did not know the boy well, he knew that it would take much more than just a few short weeks of traveling with Ramza to change things. The real question was how Ramza would react.

"My Lord Hand," Joffrey finally said as he shook off Ramza's hold on his arm before dropping to a knee, "I must be honest - any fool would choose life, even one of servitude or exile over death. Yet whatever you believe of my uncle Tyrion, though I may not have the best relationship with him or the other man I thought to be my uncle, I would not want you to persecute him for something he is not guilty of."

All eyes were on the youth as the other Stormriders and Sandor Clegane stepped aside to give him room.

"I know not why you suspect him, though my uncle is a cunning and shrewd man, it was I who hired a man to kill your son Bran."

It was a bold admission that stunned all but a few Stormriders. Even Joffrey seemed surprised at his own honesty. Only the Hand looked away from Joffrey, his cool grey eyes darting from Tyrion Lannister to Lord Petyr Baelish.

"You would testify to that in court?" Tyrion finally asked, looking pained yet relieved at the same time.

Joffrey nodded, "I am testifying here and now."

A murmur arose amid the members of the Council but was quickly quieted when Lord Stark took his sheathed blade with his good hand and pounded the end against the stone floor in an effort to call for silence. "Joffrey has admitted his guilt in that affair, clearing his uncle Tyrion Lannister of those charges, yet the fact remains that he is charged with conspiring to kill the King."

"He did nothing of the sort," Jaime Lannister hissed. "The plan was Cersei' alone, though her hate for Tyrion is enough that she would not be above trying to see him killed along with us."

"The King has ruled that he is culpable and thus guilty," Eddard stated, silencing the Kingslayer, "just as he found the rest of you guilty."

"Did Tyrion actually raise a blade against the King?" Ramza asked, startling everyone. "Or was he merely implicated by the remaining knights who had taken up arms against the King?"

All watched as the Hand glanced back at the King, then turned to address the Stormrider. "He was implicated by the knights and Q – Cersei."

"Then you would take the word of known conspirators against a man who thus far has not committed any crimes against the crown?" His point was valid, though this King was not always known for making the most logical of decisions. He paused long enough to eye the other members of the council, prompting them to provide some incriminating evidence. "Have we not already heard the testimony that proved Tyrion's innocence in another matter? Is it not possible that he is not guilty of these charges as well? Would you trust the word of those you have already condemned? What if they named Lord Stark as a co-conspirator? Would you believe them again? Or Lord Baelish? Or Grand Maester Pycell? Who is to say that they are not simply naming the names of those that they wish to discredit or even killed?

"And would you condemn a man simply because of who he is related to? Are you that petty a king?"

"Enough!" the King roared as he sprang to his feet. Eying the blue eyed blond, Robert grit his teeth as he contemplated his options. "Lord Tyrion will be set free so that he can take his niece and nephew across the Narrow Sea. But only if he swears to never take up arms against House Baratheon, House Stark, and the Kingdom.

"Joffrey Rivers may remain with the Stormriders until he is of age to be considered a man, but once he comes of age he is to either take the black or you" he pointed to Ramza "shall put him down yourself. If you fail to do so I will rouse my armies and chase the Stormriders to the ends of the earth if need be.

"You may not take the Stormriders to the Westerlands – if any of the lords see your banner in the West or I even hear of your band contacting any of the lords, knights, or bannermen in the West I shall order your immediate execution. Do you understand me?"

Ramza knelt and bowed his head in acknowledgement.

"Loras," the King called out "I am in need of several loyal knights for my Kingsguard – would you take the White?"

The young knight seemed giddy at the prospect, bowing his head before dropping down to one knee, "It, it is an honor I cannot refuse."

"Good," Robert sighed. "I am in need of a new Queen, one that can provide me with an heir. Your first duty is to accompany Lord Renly to Highgarden.

"Ned, you will need to find the other three for my guard."

Marach grinned. He did not envy the Hand his duty. Four of the final five in the Melee had been Stormriders, and of the final ten six of them were now Stormriders, seven if Loras had been included. It was unlikely that the remaining Stormriders would opt to accept the white cloaks of the Kingsguard.

"Sandor," Ramza said as he turned to the big man, "we find ourselves short a man and as you are no longer needed in your capacity to guard a prince, would you care to join our troupe?"

The Hound eyed Ramza then grinned. "Why not? At least now I won't have to take orders from the runt."

Eddard

King's Landing was abuzz with the news of the Queen's attempted coup once the Stormrider's had left court. It had been a wonder that they had managed to keep word of the incident as long as they had, but now that it was out he knew that Tywin would soon act. War was coming, and even though he had Catelynn instruct the lords and bannermen in the north to prepare, they were preparing to defend, not march. It did not help that the Warden of the East had been Jaime Lannister, and that the lords were loathed to marshal their troops even as they sought to position themselves as the next Lord of the Vale.

Even with his duties as the Hand, he knew that there were other things that he needed to take care of.

"Lord Stark." Jory's voice echoed in the small chamber. "There is someone here to see you."

"Send him in," he said as he set the scroll he had been reading aside. Despite Lord Baelish's advice that he not trust anyone, Eddard knew that he could trust the Stormriders.

The sound of the door closing behind his guest was all he needed to know that the olive skinned youth had entered the room. "I owe you my life."

The hooded man shrugged, "It was Ramza's decision that we keep you safe. If it had been him there you would have been fine, though he probably would not have gone unnoticed by the rogue guards. Ramza believes you to be a man of honor, and the kingdom needs a man like you beside the king."

Unsure how to take the odd compliment, he nodded, before moving onto the matter at hand, "If I am to remain here, I need to be freed of my other responsibilities. As Sansa is no longer set to marry Joffrey there is no need for her to remain at court, and Arya, well, she wants to travel with the Stormriders even if Joffrey is to remain with you."

"You wish us to escort them to Winterfell?"

Eddard nodded, "Are you not headed north regardless of what the King has decreed?"

"We can take them," the hooded man stated.

"They are ready to leave now," he stated. "The Seventh Sister is set to leave on the evening tide."

Reis

They were near Runetown when the Seventh Sister rejoined the First Sister. Few ships dared to venture north this late in autumn as the winter storms made the sails useless. Strong arms manned the oars day and night, keeping the men warm and making them slip into sleep effortlessly as a result.

Needing more than just a night's rest both captains had agreed to stop in Runetown. The small, swift ships carried only enough provisions to be at sea for a few days, but the weather and season were against them.

Two days after departing Runetown found the Sisters in the Fingers. The captains rarely took their ships out of sight of the distant shores, but in passing by the Fingers they took the ships close to land before venturing towards the Three Sisters and the Bite.

"Leviathan!" the man in the crow's nest shouted in warning. Everyone on deck followed the youth's outstretched arm to the silvery blue mounds that breached the surf.

Straining her eyes, the dragonkin watched as the titanic creature made its way towards the sister ships. Reaching into her pack she slipped off her shoes only to replace them with the special shoes that Ramza had purchased for her.

All about her the men on the ship either took up arms or prepared the ship for an assault. Oars were being pulled in while giant bolts were being loaded into the gigantic crossbows.

Her shoes on, Reis leapt overboard, eliciting a startled gasp by some of the men near her. Gasps turned to cries of amazement as she floated mere inches over the churning surface.

"I'm coming too!" Alma's declaration caught the dragonkin by surprise. Beside her Ralpha also donned her floating shoes. Both girls jumped over the side of the ship, rushing to catch up to Reis.

On the Seventh Sister, Ramza and Beowulf mimicked the girls. A team of five would be enough to delay the beast should it want to fight, but it was a small enough force to make the beast consider the possibility of contracting with them.

Since leaving Runetown the dragonkin had been attempting to summon the Leviathan lord. Thus far their summons had proved fruitless, but the appearance of this leviathan had to be more than just a chance meeting.

North the dragon skulls had told her. North the Heart Trees had ordered her. And north was where she was now headed, and where she had found the Lord of the Seas.

Arya

The gentle rocking of the Seventh Sister did not suit her elder sister, making meals and sleeping had for Arya as she was forced to endure her sister's moaning and retching. The first few days out of King's Landing had been fine, but the choppy waters north of Runetown had made the last two days much more difficult for Sansa. It was not until the sister ships rounded on the Fingers that the waters became calmer, making things a bit easier for Sansa.

Without needing to tend to her sister's needs Arya had been free to resume her lessons with the water dancer. Syrio's lessons had increased in intensity as Arya became accustomed to the quickly increasing tempo of the swordmaster's attacks.

"Your attacks would only work if your opponent wears no armor," the Hound stated as he watched their practice.

Before either she or Syrio could reply a cry interrupted them. "Leviathan!"

All about them the crew of the ship rushed to prepare themselves though none onboard had ever faced such a beast. Some whispered that the scout in the crow's nest had merely seen a pod of whales. Yet all found their pace quickened as they scurried about the deck to secure their cargo and prepared for the worst.

"I never took you for a craven," the Hound remarked as he stood beside Beowulf.

"I am not," the swordsman replied.

"What good is removing your shoes?" the big warrior asked.

"The proper equipment can turn any battle," Beowulf stated as he slipped on a new pair of shoes. The soft leather boots had a small pair of feathered wings sown on by the ankle.

"The First Sister is closer," Ramza stated as he handed his pack to Cid. Like Beowulf the young fighter also wore the odd shoes.

It took Arya a second glance to realize that Ramza was not standing on the deck, but that he was floating over it. With the boots on he now came up to the Hound's shoulders where he had previously been a head short of that mark.

"It's a good thing we're faster," Beowulf grunted as he tossed Cid his pack as well.

Both men went over the side of the ship, startling several crewmen. The sight of them hovering above the surface they drew the attention of many. All watched as they rushed to join up with three figures that had parted with the First Sister.

At this distance they could tell that the row of humps that breeched the surface was not whales. Silvery blue scales each the size of a small buckler protruded from the beast, protecting it from any blade or arrow that might seek to injure it.

The five Stormriders were perhaps fifty paces from the heads of the sister ships when the leviathan reached them. The creature's massive head was nearly as large as the Seventh Sister though she could not see how big the rest of the creature was as much of it remained submerged.

"Never in my wildest dreams had I thought to lay eyes on such a beast," Syrio exclaimed. "I have heard tales of sailors encountering a leviathan, but none were near as large as this, and sailors are known for being boastful."

All eyes focused on the Stormriders and the leviathan. Neither side made any aggressive moves, though the beast lowered itself so it could get a better view of them.

"What are they doing?" Sandor demanded as he turned to Cid.

The old swordsman casually leaned against the railing. "They are coming to terms," he explained. "Powerful wizards can form pacts with magical creatures, but creatures this powerful often require contracts. The wizard agrees to provide a suitable feast or offering in exchange for being able to call upon the creature, in this case the leviathans."

"They can use magic?" Joffrey scoffed a remnant of his former self surfacing.

Cid nodded. "We all can, to some extent, some better than others."

"They say that it was magic that destroyed Valyria," Brienne stated as she joined the group.

"It's possible." Cid shrugged. "Magic can be powerful and destructive, but used right it can win a battle or even a war."

Turning to the group he eyed Arya. "Sandor is right; your technique is only good against those without armor. If you had a blade that could pierce any armor then such a style could be useful. But if you can find the weak spots in a man's armor you might be able to pierce through, though that would not kill them. On a battlefield it is almost useless, but if you were to sneak into a house at night or perhaps at a bar or tavern it might be useful."

Syrio scowled, but nodded. "We do not have as much steel in Braavos and most wear boiled leather rather than full plate mail."

Turning to eye Arya, Cid appraised her. "It's a good style to learn, but it's only one style of many that you should learn if you want to be a real swordswoman."

Marach

War was coming. It was something that all of the Stormriders had expected. But as in the War of Lions they were not going to play a role in the frontlines. Now as then they were going to serve the country and people, not the king.

Now as then Marach knew his role as the team's information broker. He was glad that Ramza never asked him to employ his particular set of skills beyond collecting information. While he called himself an assassin, Marach had yet to actually assassinate anyone since joining up with Ramza. He had not even been asked to interrogate anyone.

A lesser man would have asked him to simply assassinate Tywin Lannister, or his twin children, rather than risking the lives of tens of thousands on both sides. War was coming, and it would probably last longer than Ivalice's War of Lions. The Lannisters would be able to muster their troops even as the King and his host moved west, while Lord Renly would muster troops in Highgarden and the Reach before marching north. The Tullys in the Riverlands would muster their troops as well, though they would not move until the King's had reached Deepden. Word had even been sent to the Iron Isles so that their fleets could gather to prevent the Lannisters from drawing men from the coastal castles.

At best it would take five months for the King to march his host to Casterly Rock, but any fighting in the Westerlands would slow their march. It also relied on Pinkmaiden Castle holding while the King's host gathered. In theory the King could muster more troops than the Lannisters, but at what cost? The treasury was indebted to the Lannisters and thus lacked the funds to pay for a war.

Marach had his doubts. Yes, the odds were stacked in the King's favor, but not by much. The people of Westeros could not afford this war – both in terms of gold and the loss of lives.

That was why he was headed west. Ramza had not ordered him to do so, but he would have asked had he all the facts. That was why the Hand had asked.

Two days out from King's Landing had brought him to the Stone Sept, but the rest of the way was much more dangerous. Not only did they not know the lay of the land but by now the Lannisters and their bannermen would be on their guard against any possible advance scouts and other intruders. Leaving Rose and Bert to guard the King and the Hand, Marach traveled with Wilfrid and Pauline. Of all the Stormriders save Ramza, only the three of them were capable of short distance teleportation, though the bard and dancer were capable of limited flight as well. Teleportation was limited to line of sight and perhaps fifty paces, though only truly reliable at forty paces. Fortunately they did not need to teleport often, though it would help them cross the mountains unnoticed. Should they need to use the road they could pass as a bards and dancers easy enough. Still, this would be a hard trip.

Ramza

The remainder of the trip to Winterfell passed quickly as they departed White Harbor hastily before any word of their encounter with the leviathan king could spread beyond the city. A fierce autumn snow storm hindered them, yet the Stormriders were set to reach Winterfell in a day or two, making their entire trip from Storm's End little more than a fortnight.

The prisoners that Meliadoul and the girls had taken were also being trained, though it was Ramza's nightly talks with them that seemed to leave the greatest impression on them. Though he was often the most reserved member of the troupe when he spoke his words carried much weight, even with strangers. With Joffrey in tow he visited each of the prisoners, asking them about their lives, families, and why they had chosen the path they had taken. Then they spoke of the Night's Watch and their duties both as men and as citizens of Westeros.

"You really believe all that?" Joffrey asked as the walls of Winterfell appeared on the horizon.

Ramza nodded, "Of course I do. Every day I do what I believe is right. Sometimes my decisions are wrong, and sometimes they cost someone their life, but I never regret the choices I make.

"Doing what is right is not always easy, just like wielding a sword, but if you do it the right way long enough it becomes easy. Sometimes you stumble, but you have to choose to get back up. Laying down is easy, but what does it get you but dirty and perhaps kicked in the face? Getting up is hard, but at least you aren't laying down.

"Going to the Wall is not easy, but it will make them into better men. It is easier than dying, and not all who take the Black become rangers and fighters. The Night's Watch needs all manner of men – builders, stewards, and rangers. Most of them are skilled trackers and thus will become good Rangers. But a few of them are craftsmen and their skills are best suited as Builders.

"With my help you will become a ranger one day." Ramza eyed the other boy. "It is a hard path, but at least you are not dead."

"And if I were to run?" Joffrey asked.

"Then I'd kill you before you got twenty paces away." His tone was flat and emotionless. "It would be difficult, but it would be the right thing for me to do."

Setting his reins down he allowed the horse to lead them along the road. Grabbing his bow he notched it even as he kept his eyes on Joffrey. In a flash he had the bow drawn and the arrow flew over the startled head of several prisoners though the other Stormriders simply leaned to avoid the arrow. Kenneth and Temperance reached into their packs for throwing knives as they shifted in their saddles. A turkey gobbled in the brush even as the arrow pierced it and pinned it to the ground. "Arya, if Nymeria tries to take my turkey I will shoot her."

Two more turkeys rushed out of the brush each struck down by Kenneth and Temperance.

The younger Stark blanched. "Down girl," she barked as she tried to rein in her excited direwolf.

With the recent snow storm most of the animals had remained burrowed in their dens but now that the weather was better they were likely to be out foraging for food. Still, the storm had forced the group to use most of their reserves and the opportunity for some fresh meat this late in the season was too good to pass up.

"There is a rafter of turkeys behind those trees," Ramza stated as he nodded at the grove of trees near the turkey he'd shot. As one Kenneth and Temperance pulled out knives and tossed them into the brush.

"How did you know they were there when Nymeria didn't?" Arya eyed him even as the direwolves set off after the remaining turkeys.

"They're downwind of us," Ramza stated. "They caught our scent and started to react. I saw one moving while the wolves were sniffing the snow."

"But you barely aimed." Joffrey eyed him.

"Twenty paces," Ramza said. "I'd only have to aim once you moved past seventy five."

"Most don't make it past fifty," Kenneth noted as he quickly dismounted to collect the birds. "mycah, wanna help?"

"But we're almost to Winterfell," the youngest Stormrider objected.

Kenneth nodded. "The worst case scenario is that we get more for dinner, best case is that we add to our personal stock for the road. If the hunting is this bad now how bad could they be as we travel further north?"

Expertly he tossed Ramza and Temperance their respective kills.

"You want some you have to get your own," Ramza said as he caught the bird. "I doubt we'll get much in Winterfell and we don't have the coin for supplies."

Joffrey caught his meaning. "We're nearly at Winterfell."

"Then you'll have to work harder on your hunting skills once we leave there."

Their reception was mixed as the young castellan Rob Stark was glad to have his sisters back, but unhappy to have the person who had hired an assassin to kill his brother with them. The company of men at arms that stood guard about the audience chamber was proof enough that the Starks were not happy to have for former prince in attendance.

"Thank you for seeing us," Cid said as he led the Stormriders into their audience with the acting Lord of Winterfell.

"It is an honor to have you here." The young lordling had the same dark auburn locks and high chin that his mother had but tended to look more like Sansa than he did Arya. The look that he gave the Stormriders though was the same one that his father gave anyone who he was not happy with.

Ramza hated the formalities. As the bastard of Beoulve he had been brought up knowing the main rituals and shows of proper decorum yet those methods had never served him when he had tried to end the War of Lions. Still, he needed to play nice.

He waited for Cid and Beowulf to trade complements and pleasantries with the young Stark before finally focusing on the actual conversation. It was not that he felt it inconsequential but the men at arms interested him more. Each was armed with either a sword or spear though there were a half dozen archers standing along the wall behind the lord's elevated seat. Beside the young lordling stood a stiff but cocky young man with long bow to go along with the quiver of arrows he had over his shoulder. On the other side stood Catelynn Stark, the wife of the current Hand of the King and mother to the lordling. Her dark auburn hair was a few shades darker than Sansa's.

With Sansa and Arya returned the pair stood beside their mother and younger brothers. The youngest, a wild looking boy of perhaps five years, this one was obviously Rickard. The boy, Bran, was the one strapped into the chair. Of the children he and Arya were the only ones without a hint of auburn in their hair.

"My thanks for delivering my sisters back to us," Rob finally said as he grimly nodded to Cid.

The gruff veteran nodded, still slightly put off by the chilly reception. "I know that there is much animosity between your family and our charge, but if there is anything we could do"

"Can you make him walk?" Rob was bristling. "Can you make it so that he can climb like he once did?"

His icy glare stopped Cid in his tracks.

"Brother," Alma whispered as she kept her head down.

Ramza stood tall, locking eyes with Rob Stark. The lordling was perhaps as old as he was and held himself as befit a person of his station, yet regardless of whatever wrongs were committed against his family Ramza knew that the man's anger was not entirely justified. "We can heal your mother of her wounds," he finally said. "That is the price your mother paid for saving your brother's life. Your brother's injuries were not the result of what our companion did and for you to hold that against him shows that you truly do not deserve to be considered a man grown."

"Watch your tongue!" several of the men at arms shouted their displeasure.

Stepping forward Ramza held his hands out palms up, revealing that he had no ill intent. "Your father, the Hand of the King and the Warden of the North, charged us with delivering his daughters to Winterfell. If he did not trust our trainee or us he would not have asked. For you to behave in the manner you have thus far displayed shows to us that you are not half the man your father is. Perhaps we should have taken your sisters to Jon Snow instead. Bastard he might be, but I doubt that he would have given us as cold a reception as you have."

He would have said more, but he did not want to reveal that their swords had allowed the King and that Hand to keep their heads. "Our duty here is done. It is clear to us that you do not wish is to remain, so we shall leave. But know this, it is possible that we could have cured your brother – made it so that he could not only walk again, but run and climb as though nothing had happened. Before we might have done it because it was the right thing to do, but now" he glanced at Alma, Ralpha, and Reis "now it will cost you more than you can pay."

He had anticipated that the men at arms would reach for their blades, he had hoped that Rob would try to control the situation though it would probably be Lady Stark who did so, he had even expected Arya to speak up, but what he hadn't expected was that Sansa would speak up.

"Stop it!" her voice was commanding, drowning out the cries of the company of men at arms and knights that stood guard as well as her family members. Setting her hand on her brother's arm she held his gaze. "If you had seen what Arya and I had seen you would know that what he says is not a mere boast. They have powerful magic – powerful enough to summon a leviathan large enough to lay waste to White Harbor much less to the ships that we were on.

"Trust them," she urged. "Trust them as Father has trusted them."

"Sweet words," Ramza sighed as he turned away from the Starks. "But as I said, the price for our services is beyond anything that that your or he could pay."

Again the men guarding the room put their hands on their weapons waiting for an order.

"Tell y our men to stand down or they will not recall the rest of the day if they are lucky," Cid advised.

"We have a full company of men at arms," the man standing behind Rob stated.

"Lord Stark said you were a cocky man," Ramza said as he eyed Stark ward. "He never told me how stupid you were."

Theon Greyjoy visably chafed. "I know that we only used tourney blades in the Melee, but five of us took on three score of men. There a score of us here now. How do you think we would fair against a company of men at arms when five of us bested three score of knights? Not to mention that your own sister attested to the fact that we possess powerful magic. If we wanted to we could level Winterfell."

"Not before I put an arrow into you," Theon stated.

"Do try," Ramza dared him. He could hear Joffrey and Sandor step away from him. "I promise that the Stormriders will not retaliate against you so long as it is only one arrow."

"Theon," Rob cautioned.

Greyjoy smirked, "We shall see if he is a man of his word."

"I shall even make it easier," Ramza stated as he pulled a cloth from his pouch and bound his eyes.

Reaching for an arrow Theon stepped out from beside Rob. "Will you use your magic to deflect my arrow?" he teased as he took aim.

He heard the twang of the taunt bow string as it and the arrow were released. He heard the arrow whistling in the air. His honed reflexes brought his hand up to catch the shaft of the arrow. His other hand removed the cloth about his eyes. "See Joffrey," he said as he showed the former prince his prize, "If you could do this I would have to chase you down rather than wait for you to get thirty paces."

Joffrey paled.

Ramza turned to Theon, "I shall think of you every time I use this arrow to kill a turkey." Turning he reached to place the arrow into his quiver even as the other Stormriders began to turn.

"Wait," Catelynn Stark cried out.

Of course it would be the mother who spoke out. As Rob was not truly the Lord of Winterfell until his father passed the young lordling listened to her council while his father was away. And as the person with the strongest connection to Brann she would be willing to do the most for him.

"Wait," she said again, this time walking past Rob.

Ramza turned to Alma who turned to Reis and Ralpha before turning back to him and nodding. "As I said, it is possible, but the cost is more than you could afford."

"You say it is more than they can afford." It was the first that Bran had spoken up, but from what he said it was clear that he was far cleverer than his brother. "It is valuable, but more than even a lord could afford? Or is it something that the lord could not afford because it is something that he cannot give?"

Brann eyed Ramza.

"No," Rob said. He was starting to realize what the payment would be.

"It is my body," Bran replied. "I was the one who witnessed the treason and I paid for it. If I can pay to get them back then it is my choice."

Ramza eyed the boy for a moment before turning to Rob. "We will need a more private room. Reis will be in charge. We will need rooms for the night."

He could see Lady Stark shaking her head at her son.

With a nod to Beowulf he signaled for the others to leave. Taking Alma's hand he began to lead her out even as Beowulf did the same with Reis.

"Wait!" Rob finally cried out. "Sir Rodrick, see them to some rooms." He was struggling with how to address the commoners. "Master Snowstorm, could we discuss the terms?"

Ramza nodded to Cid, "In private."

The Lordling of Winterfell dismissed the men at arms save for Theon Greyjoy even as Cid lead all of the Stormriders out save for Ramza, Beowulf, Joffrey, Reis, Alma and Ralpha.

"Why does he need to go with you?" Rob asked once everyone else was out of the room.

"If this works," Reis replied, "it is because he has strong magical powers. When it works he will need to learn how to use magic or it might burn him from the inside out."

"Magic?" Theon scoffed. "It might be one thing for a girl to believe in the tales of magic and"

As one the Starks turned to where Theon had been standing only to find a toad in his place.

"Do you believe in magic now?" Alma asked as she pointed at the slimy creature.

"Do not get on Alma's bad side," Ramza cautioned Joffrey. The youngster was stunned to say the least. Turning to his sister he shook his head, "I believe that is an adequate display."

"You should back away from him," Reis advised as she threw a potion over the transformed man. Seeing him turn back she eyed Alma.

"What? Did you want me to hit him with a flame spell or would you have preferred a blizzard?" the girl shrugged. "Or a summons? More effective but I don't think that they would have liked us bringing down the bulding."

Ramza and Cid shook their heads.

"What is wrong with her?" Joffrey hissed.

Ramza shrugged. "She doesn't get out much."

"You baby her too much," Cid countered. "I say have her go out on some patrols."

A/N

I'll leave things here for now.

Dreamingfox