Lord Yorwick had been easy to find, he was resting in his chambers. He dressed himself quickly in his riding clothes before wrapping a golden cloak around him. It bore the black needle and thread of his house upon it. "You want me to ride south , my Lord? The armies of the Stormlands and the Reach are between us and Dorne." Idris nodded.
"Yes, you'll have to ride and sleep rough to avoid them. I have heard that they have a fondness for tourneys. Should you have the need, you could fight in some tourney or other, Renly is having one every other day it seems. Then when the tourney finishes and they ride north again for their next tourney at some backwater inn you go south. It shouldn't delay your ride too much." Lord Yorwick sat down and thought about the proposition.
"The Orphans won't just give up water witches, even if they do exist. We look too much like Stone Dornish. They've fought and butchered the Salt Dornish since the Princess Nymeria married the Martells." Idris paced in front of the seated lord.
"You'll have to prove that you are more than you look. Become Orphans for as long as you are there. Live on the Greenblood, adopt their ways. You will be the Rhoynar, children of Mother Rhoyne. We aren't kidnapping the water witches, just inviting them. They have the right to refuse." Idris sighed. "But dark times are coming. It will be worse for them than even the burning of Chroyane. If we lose the war against the dead..." He shook his head. "It will be more than warped towers and melted palaces. They can't sail away this time. Their Mother died in dragons flame. It is the duty of men, not Gods, to fight this war. It is the duty of the Rhoynar who have come here to Westeros, just as it is the duty of the First Men."
"Should we make appeals to the Stone Dornish then? Perhaps as we pass through the Boneway we can ask for the Yronwoods to send men north." Idris stopped pacing and looked at Lord Yorwick.
"They likely got a message from the Wall just as we did. If they didn't listen to the Lord Commander, why would they listen to us?" Idris sat down on the floor of the room, he began plucking fluff from the floor. "You Flaxes were merchants and traders, and you know your craft. Better than I do. Perhaps you can persuade the Dornishmen but..." He looked out of the window. "I doubt they'll listen. The Bloodroyals didn't sign the Pact. Nor did they fight in the last war for the Dawn. They sat in their deserts and danced in the sun. It's said that the Dornish could see the eternal darkness whenever they looked north." Idris dropped a fist to the ground.
"I'll ride at once my Lord. The Rhoynar remember what it means to face the end of their people. If there are water witches to be found. They'll come with us." Idris looked up at Lord Yorwick.
"Excellent. I'll await your return. Ride safely." Lord Yorwick Flaxe rode south that evening with five Ironfur riders, they bore no banners or colours and carried no supplies. They would live off the land and the generosity of the people until they reached the Boneway. The only things that would reveal their identities and loyalties were the heavy ironfurs that rested behind them on their horses.
Torrhen had been simple to persuade. He believed in the old magics of the greenseers, when he was told of the direwolf pups of the Starks he was certain that it would be an easy mission to discover the hiding places of the Children. He said he would ride first to the Stormlands and would search the forests there since the magics defending Storm's End were forged into the walls of the castle by the Children. Then he would go to the Ring in the Reach, a grove of sixty weirwood trees that formed two rings of trees, one facing in and one facing out. He would then begin to ride north. He would visit Heart's Home in the Riverlands, where the Andals had set a weirwood grove inhabited by Children alight. The stories claimed that the Children had fought a great battle against the Andals there and that some Children still lived there, killing travelling Andal merchants in the night.
He too had ridden south with five unmarked riders. Idris had begun to write his letter to Karl Merk, the Captain of the Guard of the Ironmountain. He would take three dozen fighters north and escort the score of prisoners to the wall. The prisoners would take the black and the Ironfur fighters would be garrisoned there until the dead had been defeated, or the far worse alternative. He would also row out to the Isle of Faces as he passed, make an appeal to the Green Men. If any still lived.
There was a knock on the door. "Who is it?" Idris called through the door.
"Lady Sansa." Came a quiet reply. Idris stood up and went to the light pinewood door. He opened it and Lady Sansa was stood outside, a young woman behind her to one side. She looked eastern, certainly foreign.
"Lady Sansa, how can I help?" She looked behind him.
"Is Lady Jonella here?" Idris shook his head.
"I'm afraid not, she may be in the library though. I can find her if you'd like?"
"No, thank you my lord." She paused and looked about to turn around and leave before she spoke. "Can I come in please?"
"Of course, of course. Is this your handmaiden? We could have some dinner if you'd like."
"I've already eaten with the Queen, my Lord." She bowed her head.
"Queen Mother, my Lady." She looked up in surprise. It wasn't often that Cersei was referred to as anything less than Queen. Lady Sansa sat down in a seat at the table anyway. The foreign woman stepping into the room after her. Idris looked curiously between the two. The young woman exhaled pure confidence but Lady Sansa was wringing her hands. She had always been more comfortable with Jonella.
"I have a new handmaiden. But she doesn't know how to be a handmaiden." Idris nodded.
"What might be your name?"
"I am Shae M'lord." She curtsied badly. Idris wasn't familiar with the duties of handmaidens, Jonella had never had a handmaiden. Due to her background she had always done such tasks herself or Idris had helped her, more so during her pregnancy.
"I must admit, I don't know the tasks that handmaidens are required to do myself. At the Ironmountain we don't usually have such a position. My mother always did everything herself, Lady Jonella has done much the same."
"I've told her what to do but she doesn't know when to do them, what's appropriate and what isn't, she claims that she's been a handmaiden before but..." The foreign girl frowned.
"I see. Who did you serve before?"
"Lady Zuring. M'lord."
"Where was that?"
"In Lorath m'lord." Idris nodded.
"It would seem you simply need to teach her how to do it your way Lady Sansa. Surely it will be same as when you taught your Andal handmaiden to cater for your Northern tastes."
"I didn't my Lord. She did my hair the southern way. And she did her work as a southern handmaiden. My Grandmother didn't have a handmaiden either. I only know how my mother did it. And how the Queen does it. Queen Mother I mean." Idris leant back against a desk and pondered.
"Then together you will have to come to a balance. You can't very well throw out Miss Shae here if she has been sent to you. And you shouldn't suffer poor service either." He looked at them both. "Work together to find the best situation for you both. If it should be impossible then..." He paused. "You are not without friends Lady Sansa. Lady Jonella will be glad to help you. Whether it is teaching Miss Shae her duties or doing them herself. Or making me do them." He smiled softly at her. Her lips turned up at the corners as well.
Lady Sansa stood up. "Thank you for the advice Lord Idris." She came closer and embraced him. She curtsied and rushed from the room. Idris chuckling behind her.
Idris sat back down and returned to writing his letter, watching the timing candles eagerly awaiting Jonella's return to their chambers. He had a wicked idea for her to enjoy tonight.