"You might have mentioned that before," Ned said with an edge in his voice.
"You think I'd lose my head to save yours?"
The two men glared at each other. Sandor spoke first. "Be at the stables in half an hour. Just you, her," he nodded toward Arya, "and the girl, since she knows. Lady Sansa, you'll come with me." He took Sansa's elbow and steered her in front of him.
"No, she won't -," Ned protested.
"Father, it's fine, truly," Sansa answered over her shoulder.
"Half an hour," barked Sandor. "And don't get yourselves caught on the way."
After leaving her father's chambers, Sandor hustled Sansa to her room, tension seeming to flow through the hand he kept on her arm straight to her trembling heart. Jeyne gasped when they burst into the room. Sandor leaned down and pinched Jeyne's chin, forcing her to meet his eye. "You've got fifteen minutes, girl. Go to your room and pack some clothes for yourself. Then go to her sister's room." He nodded at Sansa.
"I don't want to go -"
"I don't want to kill you but I will if you don't fucking move. Now." Sandor released her chin and she ran toward the door. When she was almost there, he said, "Girl."
Jeyne stopped and turned, apprehensive.
"I don't need to tell you to keep your mouth shut, do I?"
Jeyne shook her head no.
Sandor jerked his chin toward the door and Jeyne disappeared through it. Sansa wondered if she would return but decided Jeyne was too afraid of Sandor to disobey. He turned to look at Sansa and she hurried over to the bag Jeyne had packed for her. Rifling through it, she found dresses, shoes, stockings, and some undergarments. Sansa dashed around, adding the box with the dagger Sandor had given her for Sevenmas, a silk purse with what coins she had, and her comb, hand mirror, and some toiletries. When Sandor stepped out onto the balcony, she grabbed a handful of her fancier undergarments and nightgowns and shoved them into the bottom of her bag. She suddenly remembered she wasn't dressed to travel and quickly stripped down. It was too dark to see detail so she selected a gown by feel and dressed as fast as she could. She was throwing a dark cloak over her head when Sandor returned.
"It's quiet, little bird. Are you ready?" he asked.
"I think so, though I'm sure I've forgotten something," she answered, looking around the room.
"We'll be stopping in Gulltown. If you've forgotten something important, we can replace it then. Right now, we need to get down to the stables."
Sansa nodded and took a deep breath. Sandor stepped closer and pulled her against him, kissing her deeply. His breath was warm against her ear as he whispered, "I'll keep you safe, little bird. If anyone tries to stop us, I'll kill them."
Sansa and Sandor left the stables first, followed by Ned and Arya, and then by Jeyne and Harry, each pair departing the city by a different gate. Sansa drank in the cool night air as Stranger's hooves beat out a soft cadence on the road they were taking to the harbor. She was tucked close to Sandor, surrounded by his arms and cloak, hidden within the heart of him.
"We're almost there," he murmured in her ear in a tight voice.
She nodded, aware of the danger they were in yet feeling removed from it, secure in Sandor's care. They'd left by the farthest gate and reached the harbor just as the others did. Sandor swung her down from the saddle, brushing a kiss across her lips while Stranger hid them from view. He pulled away with a soft noise just as Sansa began to kiss him back. He put Stranger's reins in her hand as the others approached and then strode over to the dock to speak with the captain. The chink of coins exchanging hands and a few words carried over to where Sansa waited with her father, sister, Jeyne, and Harry.
Within moments, Sandor returned. "Bring the horses first," he said to Ned, who responded with a look that suggested his compliance was soon to be in short supply. Still, he led his horse and one of the supply horses onto the ship.
"Stay with the baggage," Sandor directed his squire, who nodded and kept looking over both shoulders and all along the harbor, twitching whenever a noise was to be heard.
"Stop it," Arya hissed at him. "No one followed us."
Harry stood still though his eyes continued to dart all around.
Sandor came forward and took the reins from Sansa's hands. "Come with me." He led Stranger toward the gangway with Sansa a half step behind him. "You, too," he added to Arya and Jeyne when he passed them. They boarded the ship. "Go stand over there and stay out of sight of the shore." Then, in a quieter voice, he coaxed Stranger farther along.
The middle of the deck was taken up by a mountain of crates, boxes, and other cargo. The girls watched from behind it as Ned brought Harry's horse and the remaining supply horse on board. Their baggage was put in a pile on the deck and the horses were led toward the hold. Harry came last, lugging two small chests that he set down with a thud under Sandor's watchful eye. "Where should I put these?"
"Two cabins, captain?" Sandor asked, turning toward a beefy-looking man with a clean-shaven face and heavy jaw waiting near the railing.
Sansa had avoided looking at the men on the ship, though the entire crew seemed vastly curious about their new passengers.
"That's right, ser."
Sandor muttered, "I'm not a ser," as the captain moved forward.
"Perhaps one cabin for the ladies and the other for you, Lord Stark, and the boy?"
Sansa's heart skipped a beat. He knows who we are.
"No, thank you, captain. I'll stay with my daughters and . . . my ward," her father said, walking to join the group.
"My apologies, Lord Stark, but there are only three bunks per cabin."
"That's fine. I'll sleep on the floor."
The captain nodded but with a look that hinted Lord Stark would rapidly regret his decision.
Her father didn't seem to notice. "If you could show us the way, Captain . . . ?"
The captain looked at her father as though he were unsure if he were making a jape. "Dunellen. This way."
The captain walked with a shifting gait where he seemed to throw one shoulder out in front of him and then the other, his muscular arms like handles on the sides of his barrel-like torso. Another sailor scurried in front of him with a lantern. Their cabin was one level below deck and had a porthole, which Arya immediately pressed her nose against, fogging it and leaving a mark. The greasy light of the lantern did little to illuminate the room but it was clear there was little comfort and no charm to be had in their quarters. Sansa realized this ship was not truly meant for passengers and that they'd been given rooms typically used by the sailors. There were three bunks, as promised – two on the exterior wall, one above the other, and a third under the sloping eve of the interior wall. Jeyne sat on that one, hung her head, and cried quietly.
"Ser and the boy will be in the next cabin," Captain Dunellen explained, shooting glances at Jeyne and speaking more loudly than was necessary to cover the sound of her sniffling. "There's a connecting door but it locks from this side."
Ned nodded, satisfied. "Thank you, Captain. I'll meet with you shortly to discuss payment."
He drew his brows together. "Ser's already paid, my lord."
Even in the relative gloom, Sansa could see her father pull in the corner of his mouth. "Of course. Thank you."
Captain Dunellen nodded briskly and stepped out. He could be heard directing Harry to the room next door.
"I want the top bunk!" exclaimed Arya, swinging up to it with the only kind of grace she ever displayed.
"Jeyne," Ned said quietly, sitting next to her on the bunk. "I wrote several notes before I left. One was to your father explaining that I was taking you north with us. I assured him you'd be safe with me. I know you didn't have a chance to see him," his voice became harsh, "since Clegane accosted you," he paused briefly, "but I don't want you to worry. You'll be safe at Winterfell and your father won't be far behind. I instructed Jory to wake everyone and have them leave King's Landing as soon as they could be ready."
Jeyne nodded and blubbered out her thanks. Ned looked at her, worried, but patted her shoulder and rose. "I need to talk to Clegane."
"I want to come, too!" Arya said, jumping down from the bunk.
"It's late. You should get to bed. Or unpack your things if you can't sleep."
"I'd like to come, too." Sansa knew she should stay and comfort her friend but she thought Jeyne might want a few moments alone and, besides, she wanted to know what was going on.
Ned frowned but said, "You can come up to the main deck but stay -"
"- out of sight of the shore. We know. The Hound already told us," Arya said before ducking out the door.
Ned's look darkened. He followed Arya into the passageway and Sansa followed him, shutting the door behind her.
"Father . . ."
He looked at her and her heart went out to him. She'd never seen him look so worried and tired. Sansa wanted to tell him he could trust Sandor; that he had honor. Maybe not the kind her father was used to rewarding among his men, but her father didn't give the kinds of orders the Lannisters did. Surely he knew that. Surely he could see that Sandor was brave and did not flinch from his duties, no matter how abhorrent they could be. Sansa realized with a start that her father did not see things that way. At best, he saw Sandor as a deserter and a traitor to his word, but why should Sandor be condemned if he no longer chose to serve the very king her father hoped to prevent from taking the throne? Sansa wanted to talk about all this with him but she knew now was not the time and merely said, "I believe he's sincere in his efforts to help us."
Ned's face softened. "Sansa, it is kind and generous of you to think so." He looked more sad than pleased but didn't say more and she followed him to the main deck.
Captain Dunellen was nowhere to be seen but several sailors were around, adjusting rigging and otherwise preparing to sail. Arya was already talking to two of them, asking questions and making them laugh. Sandor wasn't there.
"Stay here. He might have gone to check on the horses," Ned said as he made his way along the mountain of crates.
Sansa stood and looked at the moonlight filling the endless cups of water on the bay's surface. When a hand came to rest on her shoulder, she thought her father had returned but then she heard his voice from several feet away and jumped.
"Clegane!"
Sansa spun to find Sandor behind her. He let go of her shoulder.
Her father's eyes narrowed but he seemed appeased that the Hound had unhanded his daughter. "The captain told me you paid for our passage. That was unnecessary. I'll repay you when we reach Winterfell, plus extra for your trouble and your expenses to wherever you're going."
Sandor made a dismissive gesture. "It wasn't much."
In a harsh whisper, Ned said, "You don't think I'd believe this captain and crew would ferry us to safety for just a few coins. Not when they know the Lannisters will be wroth when they learn we've gone. The price for their silence must have far exceeded the cost of the voyage."
"If you want to offer them more gold, go ahead."
"So you'd have me in your debt," Ned said in dark tones. It pinched at Sansa's heart to see how little her father wanted to accept anything from Sandor.
"I'll accept your thanks and consider us even. If you want to repay me beyond that, you'll think of a way. I don't need gold."
"Perhaps not, but you do need protection from the Lannisters."
"Protection from the Lannisters?" Sandor scoffed. "It wasn't my head Joffrey was planning to lop off."
"He might change his mind once he knows you've deserted."
Sandor's face hardened.
"You haven't said why. You've served their family for years and now your prince would be king. You've got gold, a good horse . . . and considerable leeway," Ned added with a trace of contempt.
Sandor spat over the railing and glowered. "Even a dog gets tired of being kicked," he said.
Ned looked skeptical but didn't challenge his answer. "I suppose you want a place at Winterfell."
Sansa was on tenterhooks. Things had been happening so fast since Jeyne woke her that she'd barely had time to breathe but, now, any outcome other than Sandor taking up a position at Winterfell was unthinkable.
After a long pause, Sandor said, "Lady Sansa tells me you treat your men fairly."
"I pray to the old gods that she has the right of it."
"She says they trust you."
"There's not a man in my service I don't trust in return," Ned answered with a slight edge in his voice.
Sandor said nothing but Sansa frowned at the insinuation behind her father's words. "Father, when will we sail?" she asked to ease the conversation past the uncomfortable place where it had stopped.
"When the tide turns."
"Can't we at least go out into the bay? The gold cloaks couldn't reach us there . . ." It was one thing to be caught on the road, excuses might be made then, but getting caught on a ship with one's belongings would be incriminating beyond denial. The tension between her father and Sandor was making Sansa nervous. She looked around. Arya was farther along the deck, a sailor pointing out something among the masts and sails to her. A few men were sitting at the rear of the ship drinking and singing bawdy songs. The complacency she saw was maddening. She was eager to be gone, to be safe from the young, cruel king.
"Sansa, until the tide turns, we'll just be pushed back into the bay. With the tide, we'll be pulled out into the Narrow Sea. No captain sails against the tide unless he has to."
Sansa couldn't argue against the logic in that. "How long will it take us to get to Gulltown?"
Her father looked at her with surprise and Sansa immediately wished the words unspoken.
"Gulltown? Is there anything else you'd care to mention, Clegane?" her father asked, looking over her shoulder.
"Gulltown is the only stop. Then we'll sail to White Harbor," Sandor answered indifferently before adding, "And the captain thinks he's in your debt."
Her father frowned. "And why would he think that?"
"Lord Baelish is interested in collecting a debt from Dunellen. The captain can't pay it. Luckily for him, you noticed his arrival today and sent me to suggest he not linger in King's Landing. In exchange for that information, he agreed to take you and your family to White Harbor."
Ned glared at Sandor. "How dare you use my name –"
"Your name's not worth as much as you think it is, Lord Stark, Warden of the bloody North, Hand of the dead King," Sandor snapped. "The captain only agreed to wait until the next tide. That was this afternoon. It was my gold that kept him here."
"Your gold. Blast your gold and blast your lies! I'll not be tricked into paying you more –"
"Tricked?" Sandor turned his head and regarded Ned with one eye, danger radiating off him. "Every word I've told you is the truth. But be a damned fool if you choose. Take your chances with Joffrey and see if you like his truth better."
Their fighting, even if hissed in undertones, was scaring Sansa. She could not allow her father to go back to the city and she was afraid he'd try if Sandor kept goading him.
"Truth?" Her father's tone was colder than solid ice. "The truth is that you didn't come to me until nightfall, when our departure couldn't have looked more suspicious or been more dangerous. The tide was already in so spare me this tale about the value of your gold, Clegane."
"The tide was already in because you refused to admit me when I came to you this morning."
Goosebumps prickled Sansa's skin. Sandor had passed her on the stairs when she was talking with Lord Baelish that morning and descended them angrily moments later. From her balcony, she'd seen him and Harry carrying something into the stables. Sansa wondered if Sandor would have left without her and shivered. Their flight from the city felt like an even narrower escape than it had before, and it still wasn't a sure thing.
Sandor was still speaking. "- thousands of poxy peasants in the streets, every gate open. No one would have questioned your coming to the harbor then. Your men could've been leaving the city all day. But the great Lord Eddard Stark wouldn't see the king's dog. Too bloody busy deciding who's worthy of sitting on a throne that's not his to give."
"I wouldn't expect you to set much store by the notion of keeping your word, but King Robert -"
"- didn't know what you found out, did he? Half the bloody Red Keep suspected but not Robert. He made you Protector of the Realm and you kept your word to him by trying to put his brother on the throne. And you call me a liar? Piss on that. I've told you what you wanted to know. My gold kept this ship here and that's the truth." He gripped the railing and glared out at the water.
Ned turned away and rattled off a string of oaths unlike anything Sansa had ever heard him say. She looked at their backs and hoped they wouldn't resume arguing. They were both right and they were both wrong and, even if she'd understood everything they were talking about, she wouldn't have wanted to choose a side.
No one said anything further for a few minutes. Sansa's stomach was in knots and both Sandor and her father were steaming.
"Is Gulltown far?" Sansa asked Sandor in a small voice when she could no longer take the silence, upset that her blunder had started the row between him and her father in the first place.
"With good wind we'll be there in a day or two. Then we'll sail around the Fingers, past the Three Sisters, and into White Harbor." His eyes met hers but there was none of the warmth she'd grown accustomed to seeing there.
Sansa nodded. Only one port between us and the north, where we'll be entirely safe and free to ride to Winterfell without fear of pursuit. It seemed so easy. Except they weren't anywhere near Gulltown or White Harbor. They were still in King's Landing. On a boat still docked in the harbor where the very moonlight seemed to fill their sails and weigh them down.
Sansa walked down the deck to the end of the mound of cargo. She peeked around the corner and squinted through the darkness to the harbor. Torches on other ships and those carried by people moving along the dock bobbled up and down. Sansa looked harder. Did the gently rocking ship make it look like they were moving, or were they bobbing because they were being carried by men on horseback?