"I'll have the able boys in my dungeons brought up." Yens said, motioning lazily towards the crow. "Do you want me to whip them so they're a bit more keen to follow?" The crow shook his head. "That will not be necessary, my lord" He said with a cruel smile. "I am certain I can keep them in line." Yens smirked. He had always liked crows. The cruelty of the North seemed to have eroded their souls until all manners and respect for their fellow man had all but disappeared. A crow had no respect for anyone until they had proven they were worthy of it.
Yens, of course, didn't have to empty the dungeons. Like everything else in the Reachfort, the dungeons were comically oversized. The scum of the Vale would often let themselves be caught in order to have a room for themselves. Now they'd be marching North, where they might have a chance of becoming someone that Yens might respect, if they survived the training.
"Is that it?" Yens asked. He had grown tired of listening to the grovelling peasants of The Ruby. He had promised to go for a ride with Mathis around the Flowerpool after this. "I am afraid not, my lord" Maester Olin said, ducking his head apologetically. "Word has come back concerning your betrothal. Two families have brought themselves forward."
Yens raised his eyebrows. "Two? I was hopeful to have even one response" The Maester pushed forward two letters. He was very young for a Maester, only 25 when he had taken the role of regent after Yens' fathers death 17 years ago. Yens was 21 years of age now, having long seized the reigns of the Reachfort, but he still depended on the Maester for sage advice and for help when the duties as Lord Redrock became too great for the young Lord to bear.
Yens looked at the seals, which betrayed the family's name. Two bridged towers, the seal of House Frey. "So the Late Walder Frey is finally desperate enough to approach a house like ours" He said, smiling. He cut the seal, reading over the letter he had sent. "They offer me a Walda Frey, as if that even slightly narrows down the possibilities." Yens said with a smirk. Olin allowed a small smile to escape his lips. "Whichever Walda it is, my lord, she is certainly a choice worth considering. A marriage to House Frey may prove fruitful in the long term" Yens spat on the ground. "Their name is tarnished. I have little love for the Starks but what was done to them was vile and will be avenged tenfold. I have no reason to tie myself to that."
The Maester thought about that. "It would not do well to anger the Seven, my Lord." He said. "What is the other option?" Yens took the letter. Three strange creatures he did not recognize decorated the wax seal, like spiders but with crablike claws and a mean looking tail. "I do not recognize this seal, Olin" Yens said. "Is it familiar to you?" Olin took the letter back and had a quick look. "This is the seat of House Qorgyle, my Lord" He said "From Dorne." Yens cocked an eyebrow before taking it back and cutting the seal. "They offer me their daughter Myria Qorgyle." He looked up from the salty parchment. "With no compensation required from us."
"A very promising option, my lord" He said. "Perhaps too promising. I would be wary" Yens couldn't help but agree. House Qorgyle was not a small house, why would they bother with a house as small as theirs? "I will make my choice tomorrow" Yens finally said. "It is not something I must take lightly" The Maester bowed his head. "Well said, my lord."
"Why are you only getting married now?" Mathis said as they lay by the grassy shore surrounded on all sides by leaves of red, orange and gold. "Most of the other people your age have been married for a while" The damp grass tickled the back of Yens' neck and the soft wind had a slight bite to it. Yet it seemed like the winter had not yet come to the Ruby. The sunlight still glinted gently off the little waves of the Flowerpool, just as it had done in the Summer of Yens' youth. "Things have been busy Mathis, the realm has taken too much of my time." Yens said, his hands finding a small flower poking its head through the fallen leaves. "After I return to the Reachfort I need to get back to work. Finding a wife is just one task of many, and not one that I should take lightly" Mathis pondered over what he had just said. "Is that why Jeyne is still unmarried?"
Yens smiled. He had had this conversation before. For as much as he loved his brother Mathis, he knew in his heart that the boy was quite simple. 17 years of age and he had not yet mastered writing, although he read more voraciously than anyone else Yens knew. "Jeyne we simply have not found a suitable husband for. The only suitors who have put themselves forward are hedge knights. She deserves someone landed."
"Would marrying the Dornish girl help you find someone for her?" Mathis said and Yens had to pause before he replied. For as simple as Mathis could appear, there was often wisdom in the few words he spoke. "I suppose it would." Yens said. "Even in the Vale we know the name Qorgyle. Perhaps this is an opportunity to be embraced." Mathis smiled before shifting his attention to a blood red squirrel which was digging through the carpet of colourful leaves.
"Come Mathis, let us leave before night falls." Yens said, helping his brother up. A heavy gust of wind swept across the lake, a frigid reminder of the winter that seemed ready to pounce at any moment. This would be Yens' first true winter. He had been born in a winter, but he remembered little of it. He remembered his father lifting him up to see the snow fall upon the tall walls of the Reachfort. His mother calling out for the two of them to come back to the fire, pregnant with Jeyne and her twin sister who would die alongside her. That was before Mathis, before the fall of the Mad King.
He remembered the strength in his father's arms. His father was the very picture of the perfect Redrock man. The fine dirty blond hair, cut short, and full beard that used to tickle Yens' face when his father kissed him on the cheek. The intense grey eyes that lit up when his father let out his infamously raucous laughter. His tall, powerful build that he would dominate the scene with. His father was a good man who loved his family deeply.
Riding along the lakefront with his brother seemed to contest that theory however. When Ser Alliser Crayne rode home with the men his father had ridden out with, holding a babe in his arms. A babe with dirty blond hair and grey eyes. The court had advised him to be rid of the babe, to donate it to a willing mother far from the Ruby. One particularly nasty sergeant-at-arms had offered to throw the babe into the Flowerpool and "Be done with this mess." Yens had been 4 years old, and delighted to have a brother.
And so the lonely young Yens, who had recently lost both his parents and a possible sister, named his new brother Mathis Stone, after the founder of his house, which had caused great uproar among the court. The young Yens was stubborn however and so Mathis had joined the household. Had something like this happened today, Yens would surely have sent the bastard away, but the young lord was still very keen on his brother, as was Jeyne, who would fret over the boy obsessively.
They finally arrived in Rubyton, the small town that lay at the base of Ruby Hill. With the sun setting behind it, the Reachfort created an imposing shadow over the smallfolk who lived in the worn, wooden longhouses. The streets were nearly empty and what few folk were on the street gave hasty bows to the two riders, eager to continue with their business. The winding road up The Ruby finally brought them to the gate of the Reachfort.
Little Harrenhal, they called it. Half of the castle was abandoned, as it was far too large for the surrounding lands to even hope to support. Two towers guarded each side of the gate, Visenya's tower to the right and Rhaenys' tower on the left. A single tower, far taller and wider than the others, stood behind them on the west side of the hill, Aegon's Tower. Each of these towers stood tall and strong, but Yens knew the insides were dreary, the wooden floors crumbling and the felt furniture rotting. Each of them was connected by a great wall, which were also in dire need of repairs, creating a strange triangular castle that had perplexed many of the visitors they had.
As they rode through the gates and into the large courtyard, the smell of horse dung filled the air. A large pile of it was situated just outside the stables to their right, which also doubled as a smithy as rubble had long since claimed the one in Visenya's tower. A servant appeared from behind the pile to take the horses from the two brothers. To their left was the small, 7-walled sept where Yens and his siblings had prayed that morning.
In front of them was the keep, the largest building in the Reachfort. It held a single, thin bell tower that stretched even above Aegon's Tower. Every morning, afternoon and evening, Toller Todric would somehow manage to drag his wiry, ancient frame up the bell tower to ring the heavy bell with great vigour and passion before disappearing off somewhere into the castle. No servant was sure where he went between tolling, but he was always punctual in his tolling and friendly to anyone he encountered on the way to the bell. Yens had always liked the Toller, as mysterious as the old man was. Whenever he saw Yens, he'd give him a toothless grin and loudly bellow "Greetings, young Lord!" before continuing on his journey. Ser Alliser Crayne said that the man had been tolling since before he or his father had been born, and that he could not remember a time that the man had a single tooth in his mouth. Either way, he was a welcome part of the Reachfort.
"You are late!" Jeyne had her arms crossed and was pouting angrily as Yens and Mathis entered the great hall. "Again!" With her lithe build, forest green eyes and pitch black hair, she looked just like the mother she never knew. "We had told you we were going for a ride and that we would be a bit late, did we not Mathis?" Yens countered, but Mathis had grown distracted by the pot of stew being brought in by a young, pretty maid. Carrots, onion, leek, mushrooms, pumpkin and beef, all hot, bubbling and wafting a rich, savoury smell around the room. "It's of no matter, milords!" She says, sounding a little nervous. "The longer a stew boils, the tastier it is."
She placed bowls of the thick, hot stew in front of the three, before briefly bowing and taking the pot of stew away. "She is new" Yens states. Jeyne sighs. "That's Rosey." She says. "She has been here a dozen days now. She served us last night, and the night before that as well." Yens shrugged. His sister was always criticising him for such pointless things. Two days ago it was the name of the baker from which a servant had bought bread. He was busy while Jeyne busied herself with sewing and falconry.
"She's pretty" He finally says, trying to buy a quick exit from his sister's commentary. "It surprises me that I had not noticed her before." Jeyne was not to be kept back, however. "Yens! Such commentary is not befitting for a Lord!" She chastises, before looking embarrassed and softening her stance. "You have been busy recently however. It is better that small matters escape you if you busy yourself with great matters." Yens smiles. "I may be a taken man by the morrow." He said. "Permit me such language while good company allows it."
Jeyne narrows her eyes "You received ravens?" She asks. "How many?"
"Two ravens." Yens said, sad that their family dinner had turned to important matters. "One from Walder Frey and the other from Quentyn Qorgyle." Jeyne cocked her head. "Qorgyle? Is that not a Dornish house?" She leans back, "How strange. It is unlike the larger houses to even remember a house like ours." Yens leaned forward. "Then you share my own concerns." He said. "But I think theirs is the right move. Their name can help us. Whatever happened in Dorne to make them so desperate cannot hurt us so far north." Jeyne stays silent. "I think it is wise." She finally says. "I would sooner have a pack of shadowcats in the castle than one of those beasts from the Twins."
Yens sighed. "My marriage is meant to help you get married as well, you know." He said. "Even if we had a Frey here, you wouldn't be around long to see her." Jeyne pouted, but didn't say anything. They'd had this argument enough, and they were both tired. Jeyne had always stated she'd prefer to live here but, whether she liked it or not, she would do her part for the family.
A knock came from the door. "Come in." Yens said. The skies had darkened and he sat alone by his desk, his quill and parchment lit only by a lonely beeswax candle which filled the room with a sweet scent. "Ser Crayne" Yens said. "Rather a late time for a visit." The tall knight had to bend his neck to enter through the door frame. The years had been nothing but heavy on his father's closest friend, but Alliser Crayne still stood strong. Yens had heard that the knight had been handsome in his youth, still to be seen in the square jaw and noble cheekbones, but the man had seen one battle too many. His right eye was a muddy brown, encircled by garish red, while the other had long since clouded over and wept continuously. His lip had a long scar, giving him the impression of a constant snarl.
"I am sorry to come to you so late, my Lord." Alliser said, his rough voice cutting through the silence of the night. "Maester Olin asked me to see if you were staying up too late again." Yens chuckled. "Forever my father, isn't he?" He motioned for Alliser to come forward. "I have a nice Arbor red from before I was born, if you feel like a drink before bed." Alliser's smile managed to creep its way from behind the ugly scar.
"Does it not bother you that Olin still treats you as a child?" Ser Alliser was sat on a chair on the other side of the room, taking steady sips of the sweet wine. "He is a father to me, Ser Alliser." Yens said. "Besides, I probably should be asleep at this time." He took a sip. "As should you." Alliser smiled. "I do miss my old man, angry as he was." His smile disappeared. "I had promised your father to be your father if anything ill was ever to happen to him." He said. "I don't feel like I've ever fulfilled that vow." He sat back. "Perhaps it is better this way. I would not have wanted you to go down the warrior's path like me or Osric. You would have fallen to the same fate that Osric did. Maester Olin is a wise man, wiser than me and certainly wiser than your father. You seem to have gained that wisdom from his teachings."
"You were as much a father to me as Olin, Alliser." Yens said, pouring more wine into the weary knight's cup. "It was you who taught me to ride, to string a bow and wield a sword. Olin could not have taught me that, he is deathly afraid of horses." Alliser smirked at that. "I've never seen a man so composed get so close to pissing himself in my life." Yens nodded. "I may not be a warrior as great as you or my father, but I am not trying to be." He said. "I am trying to protect my family and further my name. Sometimes that means wielding the sword, so I must be good enough for that but at this time I do not see it to be necessary."
Alliser nodded. "Wise words, my lord." He said, before chuckling. "What a fighter your father was, though! Seemed to lift that hunk of steel like it was paper." The two men looked at the bastard sword mounted on the wall. Stormcrown, the ancestral sword of House Redrock. Gifted by Lord Orys Baratheon to Lord Mathis Redrock upon the completion of the Reachfort. "I had to pry it loose from your father's hands at The Trident. He wouldn't be rid of it. Man was as much of a burden in death as he was in life."
"Perhaps it is better that he met a glorious end at the Trident." Yens said, to which Alliser nodded. "I have nothing but love for the man. He was my friend. When fighting it seemed he was blessed by the Warrior himself and he had great love for you and your mother. I am still to meet a more loyal man." Alliser sighed. "But the man was a fool. The 3 years Osric was lord of The Ruby were disastrous. He cared little for the smallfolk or anyone other than his friends and family."
He sighed. "I do have his foolishness to thank for my wife though." He chuckled. "Old Lord Rodrik had fought tooth and nail for a marriage to House Hersy, but when she arrived to the Reachfort Osric took one look at her, announced he was going hunting and just left the great hall." Yens laughed. "He just left? Just like that?" Alliser nodded and took another sip of wine. "Lord Rodrik was furious! Lord Hersy and Lord Rodrik were shouting so loudly that the whole castle seemed to shake. Poor Myranda was bawling her eyes out as I tried to protect her from the tirade." He chuckles. "2 turns of the moon later Osric finally returns. Myranda and Lord Rodrik had been waiting since then, so you can imagine how unhappy they were to see that Osric was riding with a lowborn woman."
"My mother." Yens said, and Osric nodded. "Sweet Poppy." He said. "A more beautiful flower the Vale has never seen. Not that it calmed Lord Rodrik's temper even slightly." Osric smiles at the memory. "The fury of Myranda and his father is something I will never forget. The only time I ever saw Osric feel shame." Yens didn't find it hard to imagine. The smallfolk in Rubyton claimed to be able to hear the infamous rage of Lady Myranda all the way down the Ruby Hill. "But Osric and Poppy had been wed through a legitimate septon, so there was little they could do. So through near a hundred ravens, both Lord Rodrik and Lord Hersy decided it best that any wedding that forged an bond between the houses would be the best option." He shakes his head, seemingly still trying to make sense of the whole situation. "And thus I was awoken one cold morning, told that I was to wed Myranda later that day."
"And that is why a knight like me, a fifthborn son with only a 'ser' to my name, managed to marry the daughter of one of the most powerful houses in the Vale." He sighed. "What a fool that man was. Wasn't the first time he maddened the Lost Lord." Yens had faint memories of his grandfather. A kindly, bearded face. The smell of honey. A soft voice yet strong voice. "My grandfather sounds like an impressive man." Yens said. "I wish I could have spoken to him, even once." Alliser nodded. "The greatest man I ever met. The only man Osric could never defeat in a duel. Wise as well, as should be expected from what the poor man had to go through." He said. "He was ever so keen on you, would keep you on his knee and tell you stories while you played with his beard, not listening to a word he said." They both laughed.
"We loved that man and that man loved us. The King of the Ruby, me and the other knights called him, much to his embarrassment. That name died with the rest of our knights at the Trident." The knight sounded bitter. "It is a shame. A man like that deserves better than Rodrik the Lost." He sighed. "Another remnant of Osric's madness."
He finished his cup. "I have kept you up too late, I must make haste to my chambers." He said. "You must have more duties to fulfil." Yens looked at the quill as Alliser began to leave the room. "Just one more letter and I too shall go to bed." Alliser stopped. "The letter to Dorne?" He asked, turning around to face Yens, who nodded. Ser Alliser Crayne paused before he said anything, carefully choosing his words. "Think carefully about this, my Lord." He finally said. "An offer as great as this is a rare thing, but even your father would think it foolish to follow the offer without thought." Yens nodded. "Your words are appreciated, Ser Alliser" Alliser nodded back. "My lord." He finally said as he made his leave.
Yens walked quietly through the dark halls of the Reachfort. He was making his way to the Reachfort's raven flock, clutching the scroll bound with a waxen seal. The three peaked mountain of House Redrock stood proud, imprinted deeply into the wax. He tread lightly, not wanting to wake any of the aides, until he finally reached the flock. The ravens were quiet, fast asleep at this hour. Yens waved the dim candlelight over the labels on each cage. Kings Landing. Winterfell. Highgarden. Sunspear. There it was. The raven would carry it as far as Sunspear, whereupon another raven would take it to Sandstone, whereupon Lord Quentyn Qorgyle would receive his letter. A delayed journey, but perhaps one that could forge a direct raven route between Sandstone and the Reachfort.
The raven Yens pulled from the cage squawked in alarm. "Lord! Lord!" It flapped in a panicked fashion as Yens tied the message to its flailing claw. "Lord! Lord!" It once again squawked. "Yes, that's me." Yens said through gritted teeth as the raven landed a nasty scratch on his arm. "I'm the lord." The Raven stopped moving for just a moment, seemingly pondering this new information before suddenly exploding in a flurry of movement. "Death!" It screamed. "Death! Death! Death!" It almost seemed like a chant. The other ravens had woken up from the noise at this point, and were squawking loudly. "Death! Death! Death!" They chanted. "Death! Death!"
Yens paid it no mind, the ravens would often scream nonsense. He made his way to the window and held the raven outside. The moment he let go of the raven, the engagement would have been made. Now was the time to make the choice. "Death!" The raven screamed. "Death! Death!" Was he really sure about it?
"Death!" The Ravens behind him screamed. "Death!" Yens sighed, and let go of the raven. Still chanting that word, it flew off with a great flap of its large wings. "Death!" it screamed one last time before disappearing over the dark castle walls. Away into the darkness, followed by a haunting chant.
"Death!" the Ravens screamed as Yens left to go to bed. "Death! Death! Death!"