Tyrion Lannister had a sack thrown over his head and his hands bound in front of him. Despite the fact that it would've been great to wait until dawn to transport the Imp to Winterfell, Lady Catelyn wanted to move out as quickly as possible. I hurried to get more meat and mead for the journey back as Ser Rodrik readied the horses.
Along with the Imp came the men of the houses that Catelyn had called upon, and that minstrel who had wanted to sing for us. I wanted Lady Catelyn to turn him away and say something along the lines of, "We have no need for singers on this journey, thank you."
But she didn't. So the minstrel got himself a horse and brought up the rear of the suddenly large traveling party.
The first thing I noticed was that we were no longer heading north. We were going east. I frowned deeply and nudged Dust until I rode alongside Catelyn at the very front of the party.
"My lady," I started. "I hate to question you on your sense of direction, but we're going east."
Lady Catelyn made a sudden gesture, indicating my voice to stay down. She gave a very pointed glance to where the Imp was being guarded by Ser Rodrik and a knight from the Twins of Frey.
"We are heading east, Helaena." Catelyn told me in a low voice. "To my sister at the Eyrie."
I had never met Lady Catelyn's younger sister, but I knew enough about her to know that she probably won't be happy with an unwanted visit from his older sister. Other than that, I knew next to nothing about Lysa Arryn.
The entourage of knights from the riverlands stopped for the night in an open field several miles away from the Crossroads Inn. I couldn't help but wonder how far north we could've gotten by now, but I didn't voice my opinion to Lady Catelyn.
I stayed as close to Lady Catelyn as I could that night. She might've trusted the knights and sellswords who had accompanied us to not turn on us for the prospect of Lannister gold, but I didn't. Robb had personally given me the task of guarding and protecting his mother. I couldn't fail him by letting Lady Catelyn die by the hands of a dozen sellswords and knights.
I didn't like the way the one sellsword was looking at the bound and blindfolded Imp. His blue eyes kept shifting over to Tyrion's hooded face. At some point the sellsword caught me looking and he smirked at me with one eyebrow raised. I narrowed my eyes at him and held his gaze until he finally turned away.
By dawn of the next morning, I was exhausted. I had been too on edge all night to sleep, so I spent most of the night sitting outside of Catelyn's tent, glaring at any stranger who came close. The men who had joined the entourage seemed to pay me no mind; I was just the bastard who was sitting at the edge of the crowd. The men had made two large fires and were all crowding around them. One of the Whent knights had tied the Imp up to a tree.
Tyrion Lannister was still making feeble attempts to call out for help, but the men around the fire were too busy laughing at each other's jokes and singing songs like The Dornishman's Wife, led by that damn minstrel named Marillion. From where I was sitting, I could hear what the Imp was shouting.
"My father will wonder what has become of me," The Imp was telling no one at this point. "He'll pay a handsome reward to any man who brings him word of what happened here this evening."
That one sellsword looked back at Tyrion at this, and I felt my heart momentarily stop. But then he turned back around as the Imp continued to try to recruit someone's help. I got up and walked over to where the Lannister was tied and I squatted next to him. The Imp shut up and stiffened, no doubt sensing my presence there.
"Whoever you are, I can assure you that my father will pay you heavily for-"
"Shut up," I interrupted him. The dwarf stiffened again and after a moment of silence, relaxed once more.
"I knew I saw you in the crowd, Helaena Snow." Tyrion said. "Have you come to gag me?"
"No," I said. "I've come to tell you to shut up. For the love of the gods, keep your mouth shut."
"Or what? You're afraid some of those lovely men will come to their senses and free me?" He asked, his voice slightly muffled by the sack still over his head. "I will confess to you, bastard, I had no hand in the attempt on Bran Stark's life."
I narrowed my eyes at the sack on his head. "Why should I believe you?"
"I have a tender spot in my heart for cripples, bastards, and broken things." Tyrion Lannister said simply, as if that statement should explain everything. "I bear no ill will against your surrogate family, there is nothing I could gain from trying to kill a ten year old boy. I swear it by your old gods and the new, and I never swear on them for anything."
What he was saying was starting to tug at my defenses. He did have a point as to how he supposedly bore no ill will towards the Starks; but then I remembered what Catelyn had said about how she believed that Bran had seen something he shouldn't have. I thought of the image of young Bran, broken in that large bed with his direwolf resting beside him.
"I'm not the one who decides whether you go free or not, Imp." I told him. "Now do everyone a favor and get yourself some rest. It's a long journey to Winterfell and we have a long way to go." With that said, I stood up and went back to sitting outside of Lady Catelyn's tent.
Tyrion Lannister might've hated the fact that I didn't take the offer of gold, but he did stay quiet for the rest of the night.
All through the next day and night, we rode on. Lady Catelyn led the way, occasionally going from a hard gallop to a fast trot. I stayed close to her and Ser Rodrik kept close to Tyrion Lannister, making sure that the dwarf didn't fall off of his horse. Some time in the morning, it started to rain, soaking everyone to bone. On one of our very few stops, I overheard the three Frey men complaining about coming on this trip and how their father would be wondering where they were by now.
The woodlands of the riverlands morphed into stony roads and large boulders. As the road seemed to get steeper and steeper, trees became less and less and the grass turned rough and brown. The rain finally stopped as we got farther into the Vale, and it wasn't until we were surrounded by rock and mountains did Lady Catelyn give the word to take the Imp's hood off his head.
Tyrion Lannister looked around the barren terrain and I watched as his face turned from disgruntled and irritated to completely accusatory. He turned to Lady Catelyn. "You said we were going to Winterfell!"
"Often and loudly," Catelyn replied, giving Tyrion the faintest of smiles. "No doubt your friends will ride that way when they come after us. I wish them good speed."
As the days continued through the mountains of the Vale, Tyrion Lannister no longer had to wear the hood, and eventually his hands were cut free. There wasn't chance that he could run; the road was barely more than a stony track and if he had been alone out here the shadowcats would eat him for sure.
On our third day in the mountains, I was beginning to miss Winterfell again. My face was wind burnt and I was beginning to smell not only my own body odor, but everyone else's as well. I thought of Robb and Theon in Winterfell, and I wanted to know if Bran had woken up yet. I thought about Jon up at the Wall, and I hoped that my friend was doing okay in his training. I knew that Tyrion had gone to the Wall when his family had started south, so he must've seen Jon up there. I wanted to ask the dwarf how Jon seemed the last time he saw him, but I got the feeling that I was one of the last people Tyrion Lannister wanted to talk to.
We were starting to get close to the Eyrie, it was another hard day of riding until we got there, when Tyrion started to degrade Catelyn. "If you wanted me dead, Lady Stark, you had only to say the word and one of these staunch friends of yours would gladly give me the red smile." He gave Kurleket, one of Lord Bracken's men, a very pointed glance.
"The Starks do not murder men in their beds." Lady Catelyn said, barely looking over her shoulder to where Tyrion was riding.
"Nor do I." The Imp said. "I tell you again, I had no part in the attempt to kill your son."
"The assassin was armed with your dagger."
"Only a fool would arm a common footpad with his own blade!"
I hated the fact that his words were causing a flicker of doubt to flare inside of me. He was starting to make sense, but I didn't dare to say this to Lady Catelyn. But even she was starting to get that same flicker of doubt in her blue eyes.
We stopped a few hours later when the sun was in the center of the sky so that the weak horses could drink the icy mountain water from the stream. I pat Dust's neck as he drank deeply from the stream. My horse had never traveled this far from Winterfell and I could tell that he was getting weaker. I had no idea what I would do if my horse died on this journey through the mountains. I had been with this stallion for years; he was as much a part of me and who I was as my friendship with Robb and Jon and Theon was.
"Riders!" Lady Whent's knight, Ser Willis, let out the cry from where he had been on lookout.
For a long moment, no one moved. But then Catelyn was the first to react. "Ser Rodrik, Ser Willis, to horse! Get the other mounts behind us. Mohor, guard ht prisoner-"
"Arm me!" Tyrion snapped. "You'll need every sword."
"I hear them!" Ser Rodrik called out. I turned my head to listen and heard it too. The sound of hoofs galloping towards us got louder, at least a dozen horses. Suddenly everyone was moving, reaching for weapons, running to their horses. I unsheathed the daggers at my lower back and thigh, arming each hand and planting myself right in front of Lady Catelyn as she found herself pressed into the boulder.
The mountain riders carried no heralds, no banners, no horns nor drums. Only the twang of bowstrings as they began to fire arrows upon us. The men Morrec and Lharys fired arrows right back at them. Mountain men wearing boiled leather and mismatched armor; they carried all kinds of mismatched weapons. I adjusted my grip on my daggers and steadied my fighting stance, ready for someone to try and attack Lady Catelyn.
Ser Rodrik shouted, "Winterfell!" and rode to meet the mountain riders, with the sellswords named Bronn and Chiggen. Ser Willis followed, crying out, "Harrenhal!"
A rider scrambled down the rock right above us and landed a few feet away from me. A moment later he was on his feet and his beady eyes landed on me. The mountain rider charged at me, raising an ax above his head and screaming out a wordless cry.
I ducked out of the way right as the ax dropped down, the rider putting all of his weight into the swing so he ended up doubling over. I took my opportunity and slashed a dagger down the rider's neck, slicing it open and bright red blood spurting out of his open neck. The rider fell to the ground, reaching up to press a hand against his neck wound. I slammed the second dagger down into the rider's back, right at the base of his neck. The rider fell to the ground for good this time.
"Helaena!" Lady Catlyn cried out right as an unknown hand tangled itself into my loose braid. I let out a loud shriek at the sudden pain coming from my head and I caught a glimpse of the unknown rider's long knife coming out of the corner of my sight.
I swung both hands back and I felt my left dagger plunge into his leg. The rider let out a cry of pain and the grip on my hair was gone. I turned around and kicked out at the rider's face. A spurt of blood came from the rider's nose and I raised my daggers to finish him off, but a horse thundered past the fight, accidentally stepping on the rider's face, completely crushing it. I blinked at the sudden mess of red and turned away from it to the rest of the battle.
Catelyn was surrounded by three riders, two on foot and one on horseback. From between them I could see her clutching a knife awkwardly in her maimed hands.
A sudden memory of Robb telling me to protect his mother came to me. I sprinted back to the rock where Catelyn was cowering and I drove both dagger into one rider's sides, going straight through his ribs and puncturing his internal organs. As the man howled in pain, I twisted both knives and managed to rip one out but the second got stuck and I lost it's handle from my grip. The rider turned around to face me, my dagger sticking out of his side.
"Stupid little bitch," The rider snarled, diving forward with his arms outstretched. I ducked once more as the man's weight started to fall on me. I drove my remaining dagger into the man's chest and neck and gut. I fell backwards with the rider's dead weight on top of me. I let out a cry as the man's weight fell completely on top of me and I landed hard onto my back.
The rider's hot blood spilled from his neck wound and onto my face. I kicked and wriggled my way out from under the dead rider just to see the last of the riders riding away. My first thought was of Lady Catelyn, and I hurried to her to see her standing, her knife bloody, and Tyrion Lannister with a very bloody shield. The other rider was dead between them and the rider on horseback was gone completely.
I retrieved my daggers from the dead rider and cleaned them off. Our party had taken quite a hit, with dead riders and knights dead around us. Those who had survived the attack were quickly bandaging their wounds. Lady Catelyn hurried to approach me by the stream's side.
"Are you hurt, Helaena? She asked me, taking in the blood all over my cheek, neck, and the top of my clothes. I gave myself a once over and shook my head.
"I don't think I am." I said. My back was what was hurt, seeing how I had been practically slammed into the rocky terrain. Catelyn nodded once and wet a spare cloth she had in her hand. There was a brief moment of hesitation before she soaked the cloth in the spring and she raised the wet cloth slightly, looking at me cautiously.
"May I?" She asked. I blinked before nodding. Lady Catelyn carefully cleaned the blood from my face and neck and I washed my hands, wrists, and arms of the blood. I had no idea that blood could get spread around so easily. Once I was clean, I looked at Catelyn's maimed fingers.
"Are those okay?" I asked. Catelyn nodded and stood; I followed suit.
After a few minutes of gathering ourselves, we started once more for the Eyrie. Ser Willis led the way, Bronn took the rear, with Lady Catelyn safely in the middle. Ser Rodrik and I rode with her, side by side. Marillion the minstrel was looking sullen; he had broken several ribs, his woodharp, and all four fingers on his playing hand. According to Tyrion Lannister, a horse had fallen on top of the singer.
"Lady Stark tells me that you fought bravely, Helaena." Ser Rodrik said as we descended down the craggy mountain. I looked over to the old knight, and I was pleased to see that he looked proud.
I thanked the old knight as the ominous sounds of shadowcats came from behind us. I looked over my shoulder to the ridge we had just left, the sounds of shadowcats yowling and fighting each other for the right to eat the dead bodies we had left behind.