Summer stretched out across The North. Even though the midday sun shone brightly over the marshes, in the undergrowth of The Neck, it might have been the first pale rays of morning. The foliage was so thick, that the marshes remained in semi darkness throughout the day. The only indication that that it was noon was the heat. Although it still often snowed in the far North during the summer, in the swamps of the Neck, the air grew thick and heavy. The mud and stagnant water thickened like soup, and a permanent haze of humidity and insects turned the air into a pungent soup.
Karys slowly dragged her boot out of a thick, treacly patch of mud and leaned to capture the delicate blue flowers that were hanging over an eddying stream. Using her silver wolfshead dagger to remove the bunch of flowers, berries and topmost leaves from a few stems, she took the stems in her gloved hand and opened the leather pouch at her waist. Inside her glove, her palm was slick with sweat, just like her brow. When she had secured the delicate flowers, she raised her hand to push back her hair. The pale blonde strands were plastered to her forehead with sweat and mud, and the rough braid she had pulled her hair into before leaving was rapidly coming undone.
With a great effort Karys removed her boot from where it had begun to sink into the earth with a great sucking sound. Slowly and with great trepidation she made her way back towards firmer ground. Every now and then she stopped and listened. Somewhere a chorus of frogs were croaking a dirge like melody, and to her left she could hear the babble of running water, though she could not see it through the dense vegetation and swirling vapours. Somewhere behind her she thought she heard the menacing hiss of a lizard-lion. With great haste, she made for one of the few paths that ran through The Neck.
She wore a loose shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Her arms were covered in scratches and thin rivulets of blood ran backwards towards her elbows. She cursed silently, as she thought some of them must have come from poisoned thorns. She would have to treat them when she returned to Greywater Watch. Her dark green breeches clung to her legs and made it difficult to walk. Trousers were far more practical than skirts in the marshy terrain of The Neck, and Karys embraced the tradition of both sexes wearing breeches. It was one of the many things she had learned from the Crannogmen during her stay. She had spent her time there learning about the many plants of The Neck, and their properties. Her days were spent between the library and the marshes. In the morning she would learn how to craft blow darts, and wield a frog spear. In the afternoon she would dive into stagnant bogs, climb trees, and wade out amongst the frogs for more plants to examine, because there was a greater diversity of plants here than anywhere else in the North.
The Crannogmen were the first obstacle that any Southerner encountered, should they be foolish enough to invade The North, And for many southerners, they were the last obstacle too. They were masters of poison, guerrilla tactics, and of their difficult terrain. Their tactics and methods were unlike any else in the North, and were notoriously difficult to conquer. Since King Rickard Stark slew the last Marsh king and wedded his daughter, the Crannogmen had sworn oaths of fealty to House Stark, and had since proved fearlessly loyal.
Karys had been welcomed with great warmth to Greywater Watch. She had been firmly embraced by Lord and Lady Reed, and treated like their own daughter. Whilst many thought the Crannogmen to be secretive, they had been nothing but open with Karys, sharing their home, their posessons, and their knowledge with her. She had learnt more about the arts of medicine and poisons in her time here than in her previous years with the maester of Winterfell. The Crannogmen knew of more poisons than Maester Lewin could have dreamed of in his worst nightmares. And close to Fever River was a school of men and women who used the plants of the neck in healing potions that had been invented in the time of the first men and the children of the forest.
Suddenly a figure appeared from the side of the boggy path that Karys was walking down. She lost her balance as her foot plunged into an unexpectedly soft piece of earth. A soft voice murmured,
"Your reflexes get quicker everyday. Forgive me for startling you. May I help you up?"
Howland Reed's face was split by a wide grin. Stepping backwards, he reached a hand forward to pull Karys out of the bog. Karys gripped his forearm and hauled herself upwards.
"One day, you will get bored of waiting in bushes to jump out at me."
Howland chuckled softly and reached up to sweep the clumps of mud from Karys' shoulders.
"One day, maybe. But not today. Are you returning to Greywater? It will be time for dinner soon. Did you find anything good today."
At this he shouldered his spear, and turned to walk the rest of the way to the castle with Karys. She walked alongside him, pulling the plants she had collected over the day out of the pouches at her waist and giving the to Howland to examine. He turned each one over in his palm before returning it to her, exclaiming over particularly fine or rare specimens, and laughing at her stories of monsters in the swamp.
Karys enjoyed the company of Howland immensely. Although not much taller than her, he was the same age as Ned and reminded her strongly of her older brother. Just like Ned, Howland was softly spoken and quiet, but with a warm heart. He was brave, but not bold or brash like Brandon. He even played jokes on her, like her brothers. Unlike the Stark boys, who all had the large, broad build of The First Men, Howland was smaller and slight, with tanned skin, freckles, dark brown hair and bright green eyes. He was intelligent too, more so than either of her brothers. Whenever she had questions or wanted to be shown something, Howland always made time. His immense knowledge of the plants and defences of The Neck was most impressive to Karys. Her only complaint was his constant deference towards her. His loyalty was unquestioned, but she often wondered if he held back from expressing himself fully or from challenging her.
She hoped it was not just of loyalty to her family that he was so attentive, but that they had a genuine friendship. It was strange for Karys to feel as though someone wanted to be friends with her, as she was so used to being overlooked in favour of her bolder siblings Lyanna and Brandon. Although she was perhaps not as adept as showing it as she should be, she was very grateful to Howland for his kindness towards her. She just wish he would challenge her a bit more, and not treat her like she was made of glass. She sometimes wanted to provoke a reaction out of him, but he remained tranquil as a pool of water.
As they returned to the Castle, which Karys had only recently learned to find without getting lost, Howland inclined his head in a small bow and said that he would see her at dinner. They then parted ways to their own chambers. Once in her own room, Karys washed the worst of the mud off her face and body with the water left by a servant in plain wooden bowl at the end of her bed. She patted the head of her wolf Frost, who turned her head away in annoyance. The wolf had not been allowed out as much in the marshes as she was in the lands around Winterfell. The animal was sluggish and grumpy from lack of exercise. But Karys had insisted they she would not be parted from her savage pet. She then set about tending the scratches up and down her arm. When she had cleaned and bandaged her wounds, she dressed for dinner and attempted to make herself presentable.
As she brushed her hair, she thought about all the things she had done that day, and all the questions she still had to answer. For her, this time at the neck was her own version of fostering. Brandon had gone to Barrowtown and Ned to the Vale to grow up. There they had not only learned how to be men, but also about themselves. They had also enjoyed a great deal of freedom. Karys was now experiencing that for herself. The Crannogmen did not compel their daughters to wear dresses and limit themselves to embroidery and romantic poetry, and so they did not impose such things on her. Karys discovered a great love of reading and exploration instead. She was finally discovering her own identity, without it being overshadowed by her siblings.
There were things she missed about Winterfell. She missed her family, and her handmaidens. She missed her rides out across the open spaces. She missed the great feasts with rich food, this was not easy to come by in Greywater Watch. She also missed her conversations with her sister, as they had not left on the best of terms.
"How can you leave me? First Brandon, then Ned, now you. Why are you so keen to leave me here, playing the lady of the castle. None of you want to stay with me. Is that why you are sending em to the Stormlands with him?" Lyanna had shouted as Karys had packed her trunks. Lyanna was still bitter about how their father and Robert Baratheon had planned - "plotted more like." - the engagement. There had been weeks of tears and shouting after she had been informed. Eventually she had calmed down and accepted the match out of family duty, as Karys had anticipated she would. That did not mean that she did not use it to make the other members of her family feel guilty.
Karys loved her sister and could understand why she was being so difficult about this time spent apart. However she could not deny her own happiness at being given this freedom. After years of having to assist her father and the maester in the running of Winterfell after her mother's death, she was finally getting to run around with fewer responsibilities. She also knew, with a sense of grim inevitability, that if nothing else this time in the Neck was delaying the moment that she would have to face the same fate as Lyanna - engaged to some Southron Lord to create alliances for her family, and increase the power of House Stark for when Brandon inherited the title of Warden of The North.
Karys sighed, put down the brush and straightened her dress before leaving for the dining hall. She had worked up quite an appetite over the day and was looking forward to the meal, even if it would be meagre by Wintefell standards. She assumed her place at the table which was, as her high rank of daughter of the Warden of The North commanded, between lord Reed and his heir Howland. Shortly after everyone was present Lord Reed commenced dinner with prayers of thanks to the Old Gods and to House Stark for their governance of the North. Then they settled down to a meal of thick broth and herby vegetables. Throughout the meal she talked with Howland about the plants she had discovered that day.
"I found more wolfsbane today, but I have so much of it. I did see something new though. There was a spindly old tree near the water's edge. I thought it was dead at first, but then I saw tiny white flowers on a branch. Underneath were small black berries that leaked a purple juice..."
"Did you taste the juice?"
Karys made no reply, but shot one of her baleful looks at Howland. Someone with their knowledge of plants and poisons did not go around licking unknown berry juices.
Howland chuckled and said "I apologise, I shouldn't have thought you would do something so foolish. It sounds to me like you have found a moonflower tree. Very interesting."
"Why interesting?" Karys asked.
"Because they usually only bring forth berries when Autumn is well underway. I think this summer is going to be even shorter than any of us expected. That is not good news." Howland answered.
Karys paused. A Short summer would be bad news, especially in the North where the snows would soon be on their way. "Is their anything else interesting about the monflower tree?" she asked.
Howland moved some of the potatoes around his plate before replying "Well they are very rare. To find one, even in season is a rare thing. I'm surprised you found one in this heat. And they never bloom beyond The Neck, you cannot find them in the South. But aside from that, well..." Howland trailed off before giving Karys a searching stare. He leaned forward and murmured so only Karys could hear, "They are exceptionally poisonous. The berries when ingested have very unpleasant side effects and lead to a very messy death. But the flowers, if stewed with the seeds and a few other ingredients over a long period, produce a clear poison that is almost... undetectable. In a few hours the victim feels icy cold, then they begin to shake, and then he collapses and is dead before he hits the ground."
Howland swallowed and then continued "as I said, they are exceptionally rare and the poison is complex and takes a long time. This means it is not a common poison. But it is one of the most lethal, and almost unknown outside of the North. If I were you, I would not say too loudly that you have found these berries. Even amongst us Crannogmen, it is a plant that is to be feared and treated with great caution."
Karys sat in silence after this. The look on Howland's face told her that this was a serious matter that was not to be made light of. But inside it was as if someone had lit a fire within her. She immediately anted to know more about his plant, and this potent poison. But her thoughts were interrupted by Lord Reed's voice,
"..Of course we will be sad to see you go. But I daresay that when you have completed whatever trip it is that your father is planning you may return to Greywater Watch. We will be only too pleased to receive you again."
"I'm sorry Lord Reed," Karys interjected, "I'm afraid I missed that."
"The raven that arrived this afternoon from Winterfell," Lord Reed replied. "Your father has called for your return as he requires your presence on some trip South. I believe he is going to Riverrun..."
Karys remained silent as Lord Reed continued talking. Why would her father require her presence on a trip to the Riverlands? A small voice in her head told her that there was only one reason her presence would be mandatory. Could she about to know how Lyanna felt about a secretly planned betrothal? Didn't Lord Tully have a son close to her age.. Edwin... Edmund? Something like that. She looked anxiously at Howland, but he would not meet her eyes and continued to push a piece of potato around on his plate in contemplative silence.
"Please excuse me Lord Reed," Karys said as she pushed her chair away from the table. "I am very tired after today's excursion. I would like to retire for the evening."
As soon as she was excused she went straight for her room. She changed into her nightclothes and sat on hr bed, scratching Frost behind the ears absentmindedly. So many thought were tumbling around in her head, she decided that sleep was the best way to process this new information. So she reached for the wooden cup of blood red tea on the bedside table. A tea made from the leaves and seeds of the weirwood.
It was one of the many habits she had picked up from the Crannogmen. They took the Old Religion and the Old Ways very seriously here. There were many snow white trees with blood red leaves concealed by the overgrowth in The Neck, and they were frequently adorned with trinkets and offerings from the Crannogmen. Howland had even said that it was his dearest wish to make the pilgrimage to the Isle of Faces, but he was prevented from doing so by a flare up of an old Grudge with House Frey of the Riverlands who controlled the land around this sacred spot. Nonetheless they took the Old Gods' gift of the sight very seriously here.
When Karys had mentioned to Howland that she sometimes had vivid dreams at the foot of the weirwood in Winterfell, he had taken her very seriously. She had expected that he would laugh or roll his eyes. That is what Lyanna and Brandon had done. Only Ned had listened to her talk about her dreams before, and even then she wasn't sure he believed her entirely. Howland on the other hand had listened to her, and proceeded to introduce her to some men and women who knew the Old Religion better than anyone, and who it was said possessed the sight. They were the ones who told Karys to drink a tea of weirwood leaves and seeds if she wanted to strengthen her sight. Karys found that her dreams became more vivid when she consumed this tea, and though the visions were not linear or more cohesive, they were clearer.
Taking a deep draught from the cup and settled down to sleep. Sure enough a string of images blazed in her dormant mind. Once again she saw the familiar group of riders setting out across the Northern landscape, once again she saw the drops of blood like rubies in the river. But now there were other sounds and sights. The pale sun over the riders grew stronger and stronger until it was no longer pale, but burned bright orange and she saw a shard of ice hanging from a wall begin to melt. She could hear the beating of leathery wings. She could see Howland stood along on a rocky outcrop, dusted with snow. He seemed to be looking into the distance. She moved beside the dream Howland to try and see what he was looking at. As she looked out from the rock she saw what looked like snow drifts in the blazing light. But as her eyes grew accustomed to the light, she saw that the drifts were not white, but red and yellow. They were sand dunes. A dark, thin creature was limping out from the snowy land where she and Howland stood, and into the sand. As she looked closer she saw the creature was a wolf, thin and gaunt looking, but with a swollen belly. It was pregnant. Why was it heading for the sand instead of staying in the snow? Could a wolf survive in the desert?
Karys slept fitfully that night. The next morning she could still see the images, dimmer now, as she packed her trunks. She didn't know what they meant, but she was sure they were not good omens. She wanted to ask someone what they thought, but she was so confused, she didn't even tell Howland what she had seen. Instead she kept packing. soon she was ready to return to Winterfell. By the time she returned it would almost be her fourteenth name day. The thought seemed to bring on a headache.
