Book Two
The Mummer's Game
EDDARD
Ned Stark sat in the godswood, cleaning from his blade the blood of the Night's Watch deserter. His death, sadly, had not been a clean one; the condemned was a large man and old, perhaps too old and unfit for the Night's Watch to make a ranger. Not that he had any say, as the Night's Watch looked to its own affairs; Eddard's duty, earlier that day, was only to pass judgement on one of theirs who had forsaken his vows. Though part of Ned wished that the condemned had handled his death better, he knew he had no right to hold it against him; a Lord owed it to a man he condemned to die to look him in the eye and hear his last words, even if the eyes showed only tears and terror, and the words were nothing but mad ramblings about the Others come again. And of course, the desire not to die, but Ned would hold that against no man.
He heard his wife gently approach, and softly call for his attention; "Ned."
"Catelyn." He looked up at his wife, still as beautiful as the day he married her. "Where are the children?"
"In the kitchen, arguing about names for the wolf pups." She sat beside him. "Arya is already in love, and Sansa is charmed and gracious, but Rickon is not quite sure."
"Is he afraid?"
"A little" Cat admitted. "He is only three."
Ned knew his wife would say this, but he liked it no better. "He must learn to face his fears. He will not be three forever. And winter is coming." Cat could respond only with a solemn nod.
Eddard looked down to his sword, still not quite clean of the blood. "He was the fourth this year. The poor man was half-mad. Something had put a fear in him so deep that my words could not reach him." He sighed. "Ben writes that the strength of the Night's Watch is down below a thousand. It's not only desertions. They are losing men on rangings as well."
"Is it the wildlings?"
"Who else? And it will only grow worse. The day may come when I have no choice but to call the banners and ride north to deal with this King beyond the Wall for good and all."
"Beyond the Wall?" Ned could hear a trace of fear in Catelyn's voice.
He sought to reassure his wife. "Mance Rayder is nothing for us to fear."
Catelyn looked like she might say something to that, but decided against it; her face went somber upon her next words. "There was grevious news today, my lord. I did not wish to trouble you until you had cleansed yourself." His wife looked him in the eyes. "I am so sorry, my love. Jon Arryn is dead."
"Jon..." For a time, Ned was speechless; Jon Arryn, Lord of the Eyrie, Warden of the East, and Hand of the King, had been like a second father to him. Cat's words, simple though they might have been, seemed too incredible to believe at first. "Is this news certain?"
"It was the king's seal, and the letter was in Robert's own hand. I saved it for you." She handed him the parchment. "He said Lord Arryn was taken quickly. Even Maester Pycelle was helpless, but he brought the milk of the poppy, so Jon did not linger long in pain."
"That is some small mercy, I suppose." It was the only thing Ned could think to say, though it mattered little to his grief. It was only then that the truth set in; Jon Arryn is dead. Out of some instinct, Ned's mind turned to another matter. "Your sister... and Jon's children. What word of them?"
"The message said only that they were well, and had returned to the Eyrie."
Ned considered that. "Lysa will not lack for company there. I recall Jon had praise for the man he chose for his Lord Steward, Ser Geremy Frey..."
"Small Steward" Catelyn corrected him. "Lord Nestor Royce is the Lord Steward of the Vale, Ser Geremy is the Small Steward of the Eyrie."
"Right... he said that he had made the Eyrie a pleasant place for Elia Martell and her daughter. As to them, Rhaenys and Rowena were childhood friends, were they not? And your uncle is there as well; Jon named him Knight of the Gate, I'd heard..."
Cat interrupted him. "There were other tidings as well." Her face had not lost its seriousness. "Robert asks you to travel south to King's Landing. He means to name you his Hand."
That was a surprise. Back at the Eyrie, Ned and Robert had been like brothers. But from the moment a crown was put on his head, the two former friends had only become more estranged. It seemed at every turn there was something both bringing them closer together, then further apart. First, it was the babe Prince Aegon; then it was the death of Lyanna, and her son; then it was the Greyjoy Rebellion. And now, it is Jon Arryn's death, and naming me Hand in his place.
"You must accept." Catelyn's voice was soft, but firm.
Ned did not want to believe it. "My duties are here in the North. I have no wish to be Robert's Hand." But part of him already knew what Cat would say, and that she was right.
"He will not understand that. He is king now, and kings are not like other men. If you refuse to serve him, he will wonder why, and sooner or later he will begin to suspect that you oppose him. You know the danger, you know that you cannot do this."
Part of Ned still wanted to object, to say that he and Robert were like brothers, that he would never suspect him of such a thing... but he could not bring himself to say such a thing, because he knew that was folly. The truth is that Robert and I are not as close as we once were; and that means we must be brought ever closer together again. "Then it must be done" he concluded. "I must go south, serve the king, and restore our family's grace to the crown."
But Eddard Stark knew that this did not settle the matter. "Catelyn, you shall stay here in Winterfell."
Her face instantly became defiant. "No..."
"Yes. You must govern the North in my stead while I run Robert's errands. There must always be a Stark in Winterfell. Robb is fourteen. Soon enough, he will be a man grown. He must learn to rule, and I will not be here for him. Make him part of your councils. He must be ready when his time is come."
Ned's wife listened to his words, and when he was done, considered her response. As he knew she would, Cat nodded her consent. She followed with another question; "What of the other children?"
Ned considered his answer. "Rickon is young. He should stay with you and Robb." Cat nodded at this. "Sansa should come with me. Septa Mordane tells me she has become infatuated with her cousin, Jon; it would do her well to travel south, and meet more appropriate suitors." His wife hesitated, but nodded her consent to this as well. "Bran should come with me as well." Cat made to object, but Ned continued. "No Cat, you know as well as I how much that boy wants to be a knight, and he'll have far more opportunities for squiring in the south than he will here. And Bran is a sweet boy, quick to laughter, he may prove crucial toward restoring relations between Houses Stark and Baratheon."
"He is only seven..."
"I was eight when my father sent me to foster at the Eyrie."
"And Arya? Do you mean to take her too?" Her voice was tepid, tinged with both fear and hope.
"It is past time that Arya learned the ways of a southron court..."
Cat shook her head. "No, Ned do not do this. For the love you bear me..." Tears were welling in his wife's eyes. Ned could not find words to comfort her, so he took her in his arms.
"Very well" he heard himself say. "Arya can stay here in Winterfell." On conceding this, a notion crossed his mind, and Ned could not help but chuckle. "I doubt she would have liked it much in King's Landing anyway; she's a stubborn one."
Cat smiled, returned his laugh, and wiped a tear. "That she is."
For a time, the two simply sat in each other's arms, listening to the silence of the godswood. He heard the wind rustling the branches of the weirwood tree, and saw the ripples of the pond. Ned wondered if the gods he worshipped were trying to speak to him, and offered a silent prayer, asking them to look over his family.
After he was done, Catelyn asked about his nephew. "What of Jon?"
The question of Jon Stark's eventual title was as old as the boy itself; in the years since Howland Reed saw his infant nephew home to Winterfell, Northern lords and clans had made a number of moves which Ned knew to be in anticipation of Jon coming of age, in the hopes of binding themselves ever closer to House Stark. One of the more complicated of them were the fishing clans of the Stoney Shore, who were building a walled town at the southern point of their land. Complicated, because House Ryswell claimed they had rights over the lands; however Ned knew they hadn't ever exercised authority or justice over the lands to their north, and that since the fall of House Fisher, the clans largely governed themselves while swearing fealty directly to the Starks. He expected little trouble there. Then there was also Galbart Glover's offer of making a gift of Seadragon Point, complete with a new keep, in exchange for a Stark betrothal for either himself or his two year old nephew, Gawen. This was to say nothing of the various marriage offers for the daughters Greatjon Umber, Maege Mormont, Medgar Cerwyn, and Helman Tallhart; or of Wyman Manderly's aggressive offers of land and keep in exchange for marrying his granddaughter.
Maester Luwin had advised that a new Stark branch house in the west, incorporating both Seadragon Point and the Stony Shore, could prove quite beneficial for the people living there, as it would facilitate trade with lands further south, from the Ironborn, to Lannisport, to as far south as Oldtown and the Arbor. On top of that, there were the Martells back in Dorne, who Eddard had kept a correspondence with, who had their own reasons for encouraging the policy. Luwin and the relevant lords were given leave to lay as much of the foundations for all of this as they might... without yet commiting House Stark to creating and approving a new cadet branch, as Ned had thought that this question could still wait a few years before being fully resolved.
But now it seemed it must be settled sooner than expected. "I will see the matter of Jon's new title settled before I ride south. I mean to see him named Lord of Seadragon Point and the Stony Shore; by the time I'm ready to leave, Jon will likely want to ride off to claim his new keep." Catelyn got along well enough with his nephew, Ned knew, but she would have no objection to him leaving to make his own life.
But she did have one thought. "I expect he'll want to ride to Castle Black first. As I recall, he's had the desire to speak with Lord Commander Dayne for some years now."
Reflecting, Ned knew his wife was likely right. "I suppose it can't be helped then. I knew Jon would want to speak with the old white cloak sooner or later."
Looking down at Ice, Ned saw that he had finished cleaning the blade. "Well then" he said, "I think it's time we went inside."
