Eddard closes his eyes for one small moment. The letter in his hand crumples. Rickard stands grim-faced near the window. "It is abominable," he manages to get out; the words feel inadequate. Sweet, little Lyanna, accused of treason, exiled along with her husband and children. That a man could do this to his own family is astounding.
They've found Ser Arthur Dayne, formerly of the White Cloaks, so they bring him forth to hear it from him. The silver haired man's lips are a thin line, as if he is considering, choosing his words. "What you hold is a letter. They give you bland words, meaningless words such as traitor, exile, lack of honour." He stops, is about to say more, but the doors open with a howl and in runs Brandon, followed by Benjen.
Rickard hold his hand up. "Continue, Ser." He bids his eldest son to sit, and the younger to follow the same order. "I would have the whole truth of this. Spare me no details."
"I was there, when they brought them in, Rhaegar and his Lady. The King took his rage on his son with cruel words. Then he turned upon his good-daughter. Before anything could be done, he felled her, and perhaps he would have done more had Rhaegar not stepped between them." Violet eyes cloud over. "Then, when we though it was over the Golden Cloaks came, shouting their support for Aerys. Along with them were Lannister and Baratheons."
"The Lannisters I can believe. But Robert?" Ned questions. "He would not hurt Lyanna." Robert is a friend. At one time he even asked for Lyanna's hand in marriage. "Robert Baratheon is not without honour."
"Robert Baratheon did a madman's bidding without questions. I saw it all, tied to wall by chains as I was. They made me watch as they brought Rhaegar's Princess by her hair into the throne room. They paraded her about, and then shoved her into Robert's arms. This man, who is not without honour, lifted her skirts while his companions laughed." Arthur's stare is penetrating, hard and angry and bitter. "He shamed your sister on the orders of a lunatic. Then he watched her stand accused of adultery and treason, and said not one word while the King had her beaten. That is the extent of his honour."
If he was horrified by the brief contents of the letter, Eddard's face becomes ashen now. "And all these man, Lannisters and Baratheon, stood by and watched." A man he thought his friend had betrayed him so.
"Not all of them," Arthur corrects him with a grimace. "Stannis Baratheon spoke against this treatment of your Lady sister; he's rotting in the dungeons now, along with Jaime Lannister who was ready to slit the King's throat when he first convicted his son."
"And Tywin Lannister?" Rickard poses, rising from his chair. "What did the Hand of the King do all this time? He is more than capable of controlling the King."
"Tywin Lannister thought to win favour by revealing Rhaegar's plans to the King; it didn't end well for him. No doubt, it was through Robert that he found out. You see, Robert was one of the few who knew." Rhaegar should not have trusted Robert Baratheon, but fool that he'd been, the Prince thought that promising Robert an alliance with the Royal House would make him cooperate. Arthur Dayne can feel the tension rising. "House Tyrell and House Martell have joined the Prince's cause."
"So shall the North," old Rickard says, his voice pure ice. "All my men will ride south and we will raze King's Landing until there is not even brick upon brick to be found." There is rage in this promise. These are the vows of a father who must live with the knowledge that his daughter, an innocent, suffered at the hands of a man in whose house he sent her himself. "Where is the Prince."
"The King had his shipped to Pentos. It was lucky that the Tyrells bought the captain of the ship. Highgarden has become the refuge of the Prince and Lady Lyanna." It is on the tip of his tongue to tell them about the unborn child, but there is enough fuel already. No doubt Lyanna herself will tell them.
Bradon stand to his full height, muscles cording. "We should ride to King's Landing right now. Let us grind them to powder."
"Foolish boy, we will do no such thing," Rickard berates him. "A war cannot be won by heading in sightlessly. We shall join the Tyrells and Martells, and whatever other forces the Prince has gathered. Then we march upon King's Landing."
Young Benjen pushes himself up. He has said nothing until now. His lips tremble, his eyes grow dark and darker still. "I can't be here, I must go-" he starts, the words stick to the back of his throat. Lyanna practically raised him. And these things he's heard, they make him sick. "I must go to Lyanna."
The Warden of the North nods gravely. "Yes, you leave first with a host of men and Ser Arthur here. Brandon, gather your man. Eddard and I shall call upon the bannermen. The North marches to battle." And the North marches towards vengeance.
Catelyn Tully Stark enters too then. She asks nothing, just announces that the man are prepared to begin the journey whenever Lord Stark should deem it fit. Her eyes stray to her husband, then to Ser Arthur. "Lady Lyanna is my friend. No further harm should come to her."
"Lady Lyanna is well protected, kept away from those who would wish her harm." Rhaegar trusts no one with his wife lately. It is no wonder, not after the throne room, not after Aerys. "Her friends surround her."
"Not all of them," Catelyn answers. "Her truest friend stands before you." Hate swells in her breast when she thinks of what poor Lyanna must have endured.
He can understand, Arthur thinks, he can understand this devotion. It is the same thing he has with Rhaegar, or very close to it anyway. He inclines his head. "My Lady."
Winterfell has taken to the cause of the Prince, and the Realm will bleed, and all shall be repaid.
