Partings
Arya Stark did not like the Freys. Bad enough that they abandoned her brothers before the Battle of the God's Eye. But what made it worse was their return after the battle, proclaiming that they were still faithful to the Northern army. She snorted. It was obvious where their true loyalties lied. Gold - the ransom had arrived from Highgarden, wagons and wagons loaded with chests brimming with gold dragons.
And with that gold, had somehow come the Freys - two dozen of Lord Walder's sons and grandsons and a thousand more men at arms. The Blackfish told Arya that Walder Frey's descendants looked like weasels - chinless and snot-nosed but they were more akin to rats, with beady eyes and grasping claws. She caught them sneaking about, sniffing for the gold, like rats hunting for holes to a sealed granary. The gold was locked away in her brother's tent, guarded by loyal Northmen. Jon's boys had marked and stored away the ransom with the record of who fought in the great battle. There were few Freys on that list.
The leader of the supposedly repentant Freys was not fat Ryman or the bellicose Black Walder. It was a plump short man with a fleshy round face and narrow close set eyes, and a pointed beard that matched his mop of dark curly hair. Lame Lothar had a twisted leg but smiled and fawned amiably. Lothar was Walder Frey's steward and had ridden several hundred miles with a bum leg to wheedle his way into Robb's favor. Lothar would have fit well at King's Landing.
Arya would have been happy to send all the Freys back to the Twins with their tails between their legs. House Tully though could not. Edmure needed allies if he wanted to protect his lands, and his most loyal bannermen, the Pipers, Vances and Blackwoods, had suffered heavy losses. The Freys had the most soldiers left, and they knew it.
"Lord Stark, the Lord of the Twins, bids me to greet you warmly and offer congratulations on your great victory." Lothar began.
"Get on with it. What does Frey want?" The Blackfish barked.
"A closer alliance and rewards for our house's bravery in battle." Lothar said.
"Your men disappeared before the last battle. And Lord Walder swore an oath to the Tullys. Why do we need an alliance for what you have already pledged?" Robb said.
"Lord Walder swore an oath to Hoster Tully. And my house has seen precious little reward in this war. No lands, no honors. We fought for you at the Whispering Wood, Riverrun, Oxcross and the Trident. When the war ends, what will we have gained? Nothing but the anger of the Iron Throne." Lothar said.
"You will have defended the Riverlands from invaders - just like every other house in the Riverlands. You will have fought for your liege lord." the Blackfish said.
Of the Freys in the tent, only Stevron and Lothar did not sneer at the Blackfish's words. Lame Lothar continued without shame. "Lord Walder wishes more tangible rewards. Some of the gold from the Reach can be sent to the Twins for our efforts."
"No." Jon spoke up. "The ransom is for those who fought at the God's Eye."
"But thousands of men died there. They do not need any reward. Surely, that gold can be given to swords that can fight, not those who fell." Lothar said.
"You would rob the dead?" The Greatjon said.
"Brave men and women died at the God's Eye. That gold will go to their lands and heirs. They deserve the glory and the rewards of battle." Jon said.
"You need our swords, Lord Stark. My father can send you two thousand men. Or he can call back the thousand that fought with you at the God's Eye. The choice is yours." Lothar said.
"Will those men disappear before the next battle?" The Greatjon japed. "Or will they drop their swords and run when the Mountain charges?"
"Our men fight as well as any Umber." Black Walder said. "Swords can cut down giants."
"You need a bigger sword, Frey." The Smalljon said. "In the North, we don't like cowards. And we hate oathbreakers."
Robb banged his fist on the table. "Enough, Sers. The Tyrell gold will not be sent to the Twins. What else does your father wish for?"
"A marriage. Ties between House Frey and House Stark. You are unmarried, my Lord, as are your brothers and sisters. The best alliances are sealed by betrothals." Lothar said.
"My father said we find our true friends on the battlefield." Robb Stark said. "House Frey failed me at the God's Eye. I will not marry into your house."
Lothar pursed his lips. For the first time, he could not hide his displeasure. "Then you leave us very little choice, Lord Stark."
"But there is another great house present. House Tully. My uncle is Lord of Riverrun. He might accept a betrothal. Negotiate with him, Ser." Robb said.
Arya realized that the Tullys had been prepared for this possibility. They were far from happy but no surprise appeared on either the Blackfish or Edmure's face.
"Very well. I will inform my father." Lothar said.
The Freys were not pleased. But then again, neither were the Tullys. An unpleasant affair but Arya expected that of most marriages, particularly any with a Frey.
Jaime Lannister crossed the Iron Gate into King's Landing. A dozen heads rotted on top of the spikes - old men with antlers nailed to their sides, like butchered stags. His family had been busy. Forty red cloaks flanked him with the Mountain leading the way. Clegane had been dispatched to Maidenpool to retrieve him with loyal Lannister guards. The Mountain's Men were nowhere to be seen and Jaime was glad for that. Clegane's soldiers were hard to control and would have happily sacked Maidenpool and raped anyone they found, boy or girl. Without full plate armor and longsword, Jaime doubted he could control the Mountain.
He kept Brienne close to his side. The wench had more loyalty than sense, and she insisted that she remained by his side until Sansa Stark returned to her Lady mother. Brienne eyed the Mountain warily, hand on her sword and ready to raise her shield, emblazoned with the two yellow suns and two white crescent moons of House Tarth. She might have been strong but Ser Gregor was stronger. The Mountain was nearly eight feet high, broad as an ox, and wickedly fast. Jaime's head only came up to the massive armored shoulders. Jaime wondered how to face Clegane, if it ever came down to battle between the two. He would aim at the hands. Clegane wore thick gauntlets that protected fingers to forearm. But only the top had steel while the palm had leather. Most men would find it hard to attack the inside palm but not Jaime. He had no doubt he could slice through the fingers from below.
Jaime would rather fight the Mountain a dozen times than speak with his brother. The news that Tysha had a son with golden hair and green eyes was a disaster beyond belief. He would have to tell Tyrion that she was truly a crofter's daughter,not a whore. He would have to admit that his father ordered him to lie, so Tysha could be taken over and over before Tyrion's eyes. And he would have to tell Tyrion that he had a son, a boy as clever as any maester. Gerion Lannister was the rightful heir to Casterly Rock and his mother had been raped by a hundred soldiers on his grandfather's orders. The gods had a wicked sense of humor.
But before he did that, he would need to bathe and wash to get the stink of the road off. After he was clean, he would see his father. He had to be a lion.
An hour later, Jaime made his way past the Iron Throne to the king's audience chamber. His father held court there, surrounded by guards, maesters, servants and bootlickers. He ignored Pycelle and Vylarr. Lord Tywin sat at a great oak table, surrounded by candles and parchment. A wax seal with a rampant golden lion covered the pile of messages. His father had been busy fighting the war, not with swords and spears, but ravens and quills.
"Jaime." His father looked up after finishing the letter. "You are wearing your white armor." The distaste was clear in Lord Tywin's voice
"I lost my red and gold suit in the Riverlands. Snow used it as a teapot." Jaime said.
"Why is that woman still with you?" Tywin asked.
"Who - Brienne? She is Lady Catelyn's sworn sword." Jaime said.
"I know who she is. She is the only child of Selwyn Tarth, Lord of Evenfall. But why allow her to come to King's Landing? She could be a spy for the Starks, or carry a message for Sansa."
"Brienne - a spy? She lacks the wits. All she cares about is honor and her vows." Jaime said.
"Honor is a fool's prize. It dragged Ned Stark down to his death." Tywin snorted.
"I swore a vow. I pledged to Lady Stark that her daughter Sansa would be returned safe to the North." Jaime said.
"You vowed that she would be returned. I did not. I wrote only that Sansa Stark would not be harmed if you were freed. She remains as our guest." Tywin said.
"Our hostage - But why? She will not marry Joffrey. She is the oldest girl but she will never be the heir. Everyone knows that the bastard is next in line to Robb Stark." Jaime said.
"Men die in war. An arrow to the eye. A wound that festers. A fall from a horse. Robb Stark and Jon Snow seek glory in fighting. Glory is no use to dead men." Tywin said.
"I promised that Sansa Stark would be freed. I was freed. She should be as well. " Jaime said, ignoring his father's glare. He was a man of three and thirty. He did not fear his father.
"You wish to keep your vow to Lady Stark?" Jaime nodded to his father's question. "Then hand in your white cloak and take your place at Casterly Rock. You will marry Sansa Stark and father children on her. She will give me proper grandchildren. Then she can leave King's Landing."
"What? Why?" Jaime yelled.
"Sansa Stark is one of the few women suitable for your betrothal. Margaery Tyrell and Arianne Martel are the others, but Highgarden insists that their rose be queen and the Dornish do not like lions. I will die one day. Your brother will never rule over the Rock, and neither will Tommen or any nephew or cousin." Tywin said.
"The Starks will never agree to that. You promised that Sansa would be unharmed." Jaime said.
"And she won't be. It is a good match, better than any she could ever hope for. We are the most powerful family in the Seven Kingdoms. Her children would rule over the Westerlands. Their nephews would hold the Iron Throne. House Lannister will be a dynasty for the next thousand years." Tywin said.
"What do they say about the North? Oh, right. The North remembers - Sansa Stark won't forget that we beheaded her father." Jaime said.
"Joffrey Baratheon killed Ned Stark, not House Lannister." Tywin said.
"And you think that makes it easier that my sister's son took Ned Stark's head? She will hate us forever." Jaime said.
"Her feelings do not matter. Orys Baratheon killed the Storm King and wedded his only daughter. He had two sons that continued his line." Tywin said.
"A song the bards sing. The King's Stump and the Storm Queen. How do you think their marriage truly was? Colder than the Wall, no doubt. I would rather not be murdered in my sleep." Jaime said.
"Who cares about the marriage? Your son will rule the Rock. Your grandson may sit on the Iron Throne." Tywin said.
"I do not want the Rock, father. I do not want the Throne. I am Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. I swore to protect the king with all my strength, to give my blood for him and his." Jaime said. He had failed at his oath with Aegon and Rhaenys.
"You have served three kings. A madman, a drunk, and now Joffrey. I am not sure who was the worst. You have wasted your time as a glorified bodyguard to a pack of idiots." Tywin said.
"Perhaps, but it is my life and my choice. I am a knight of the Kingsguard. That's all I have ever wanted to be. To fight for the good of the realm." Jaime said.
Tywin snorted derisively. "There is no good of the realm. That is merely a fool's dream. There is only those who rule and those who are ruled. You have a duty to House Lannister. You are the heir of Casterly Rock. If you wish to protect Sansa Stark, you could marry her and take her away. In time, your children might even mend our quarrel with the North."
"No, father. I will not do it." Jaime said. "Robb Stark and Jon Snow are not green boys. The bastard burnt Roose Bolton alive for treachery. I remember Aerys burning men with wildfire. What do you think they will do to the man Sansa Stark is forced to marry?"
"I will deal with the wolves." Tywin said. "All you need to do is put a babe into the girl."
Jaime shook his head. He had soiled his name and cloak with the blood of a king, his failure to protect Rhaegar's children, and cuckolding the Usurper. But he still wore the white cloak. He had made his vows to the Iron Throne. He would not bow to his father's wishes.
"Very well, Ser." Tywin said with cold disdain. "If you will not do your duty, others shall. Send in your brother." And Jaime suddenly understood that things had gotten worse.
Alleras sipped the sour house wine, weak red water from the Reach, at the Blushing Maiden halfway between the harbor and the Street of Steel. She had always preferred the sweet liquor of the Summer Isles even more than Dornish strongwine. The Blushing Maiden was an oddity in King's Landing. It was neither a winesink nor a brothel and catered to those who sailed the seas. Traders, sea captains and merchants enjoyed a drink in the bustling inn, far away from the fetid odors of the docks.
Her father and sisters were still ten days away, trudging through the kingswood. Alleras had taken a smuggler's ship from Planky Town to Driftmark. There, at the town of Hull, she hired a Lyseni trade ship to sail to King's Landing with barrels of black tar rum and casks of spiced exotic foods. In truth, the food was salt cured beef and the rum vile to anyone not a sailor but a merchant without goods would stick out like a giant at the docks. Her father warned her that King's Landing swarmed with spies, and that the Spider always listened from the shadows.
"The Kingslayer came through the Iron Gate this morning. He was accompanied by the Mountain and a giant woman." a weathered and sunburnt captain said.
"They say the Northmen search for Jaime Lannister. How long before they attack King's Landing?" A tall gaunt man in purple robes trimmed with ermine asked with only a faint accent. Braavosi, Alleras thought. The dark saturnine eyes roved around the room.
"Not soon. Otherwise the sellswords would spend all their coin." a fat Pentoshi with a dozen jeweled rings on stubby fingers said. "I will leave this wretched city before the Northmen come."
Alleras stood up, smoothed down her green brigandine jack, and approached the trio. "Sers - what news of the Riverlands?"
"No news since the battle. Since they slaughtered the Reachmen, the Northern army just sits at the God's Eye, waiting." the captain said.
"I hear the Tyrells paid them a fortune in gold. A million gold dragons to not kill their men. They should have paid the price before the battle" The Pentoshi chortled.
"Why do you ask, young one?" The thin man said.
"I wish to sell my goods on the Blackwater. Are there any ships that can take me?" she asked.
"Are you mad? The lands between here and the God's Eye are empty. Only sparrows would dare face the Northmen." the Pentoshi said.
"Sparrows?" Alleras asked.
"Godly men who saw the Riverlands plundered and pillaged. They carry the bones and skulls of murdered septons and begging brothers to King's Landing. Thousands of small folk, chirping for the hundreds of thousands who suffered in the war." The thin man said.
"Fanatics drunk on the Seven. They walk between here and the God's Eye, preaching about sins and wickedness." the Pentoshi sneered.
"Do sparrows fight with or against the Northmen?" Alleras said.
"Some fight for the Starks. Others say the Northmen are heretics who will sack the Great Sept. They are on Cobbler's Square preaching and chanting." the thin man said.
Alleras bought a round of drinks and slipped a stag into the wench's sweaty hand. She waited for a beat, and then left the Blushing Maiden. Minutes later, the Braavosi followed. Silent as a specter, she edged past the gold cloaks patrolling the Great Sept. The guardsmen thumped their short spears on stone to discourage the men lurking around the white marble building. The men were boney faced and barefoot, garbed in homespun brown and dun garment belted with hempen rope, a stark contrast to the plump white robed septons waddling up and down Visenya's Hill. There was trouble brewing with the Faith of the Seven. Even a blind man could smell that in the strange mix of dirt, sweat and perfume wafting through the plaza.
She stopped and ducked behind three plaster statues, worn down by bad weather and gray smog. Alleras only recognized Septon Barth who gave the realms forty years of peace as the Hand. She had walked up the hill, and then would head down through alleys and back streets to to Cobbler's Square. Alleras looked around carefully, and decided that there were no spies behind her. She did not know the Braavosi hid behind a large pillar. She waited for the guards to make a full circle before she left the Sept.
Alleras smelled Cobbler's Square even before she heard the loud bickering voices. An angry sparrow harangued hundreds of smallfolk, declaring that godless heretics and demon worshippers were to blame for all their misfortunes. The diatribe was interrupted by the hissing of other men, some with rainbow cloaks and rainbow swords on their shields. A large clump of dung flew through the air and hit the preacher flush in the face. The screed stopped, to be replaced by a scrum of pushing and shoving sparrows.
"Why are they fighting?" she asked the septon standing next to a donkey laden with turnips and beans. He was tall, even hunched over, with leathery hands and bare weathered feet.
"Why does any man fight?" the stooped man said.
"The will of the Seven." Alleras snarked.
"The Seven have very little to do with it. Men fight for a lord who does not know their names, for reasons they do not understand, and for a spit of land they and their masters will never hold. Men go off believing in songs only to find misery. Better to stay at home with their sheep and goats. " the septon said.
"I am not asking why all men fight. Why do those two?" Alleras said, pointing at the septon with the cow patty still smeared to his face, and a bellicose knight facing him.
"Septon Moon claims that Jon Snow is a sorcerer who uses magic to beguile and corrupt men. The knight, Ser Raymund Mallory, thinks Septon Moon is full of shit, which is why he threw the cow dung at his face. Mallory fought with the wolves in the Riverlands. The knight says the only demons are the Lannisters."
"And he is still alive? I doubt the Lannisters like his words." Alleras said.
"Half the city hates the Lannisters. The other half believe Tywin Lannister is the only man stopping the Starks from coming to King's Landing and murdering them in their sleep."
Alleras bit back a response. Tywin Lannister had done that exact thing. He ordered his men to sack the city, dragging women from their beds and murdering children. Unlike King's Landing, Dorne had not forgotten. "And what does Septon Moon plan to do besides rant in a square?"
"The fool means to confront Snow. He intends to march with a band of Poor Fellows and demand that the wolves use no more sorcery."
"Perhaps I can help him in his crusade."
Alleras found the rabble rouser after the brawl ended. The preacher was surrounded by a coterie of hedge knights with seven pointed stars tattooed on their faces. Moon was a large man with a fat face and a loud voice. He had wiped away the cow patty from his beard, but still smelled of shit. Then again, most sparrows stunk. Alleras touched the figurine in the doeskin pouch. Before she could take it out, they saw her.
"Who are you?" Septon Moon said.
"Mysaria. A trader from Lys who hates wizards." Alleras answered.
"Lys? I thought all of the men of Lys had pale skin and gold hair." Moon said.
"That is what the magisters would have the bards believe. But Lys was found on trade, not pleasure gardens." Alleras said.
"And what do you want - Mysaria from Lys?" the septon said.
"I have encountered wizards before in Essos. Even those who use the darkest sorcery. I hear you mean to confront this Jon Snow." Alleras said. The man nodded stupidly, like a boar about to be speared. "How will you defeat his magic?"
"The Father will provide. We have faith." the giant man thundered.
And Jon Snow has brains. You will be in chains before you get a thousand feet near him, Alleras thought. "In Lys, we have to protect ourselves from warlocks of Qarth and the bloodmages from the East." She took out the figurine. "This will give you protection from spells."
Moon grabbed the golden wood carving in his meaty hands. The creature had a woman's face and breasts, the body of a lion, wings of a hawk, and the tail of a serpent. "What is this thing?"
"A sphinx. In Essos, a Valyrian sphinx can protect you from black magic." Alleras said.
"Truly - from spells? They say that Bastard of Winterfell can summon storms and control wolves. That is how he defeated the Lannisters and the Tyrells." Moon said.
"Take the sphinx. But be sure the Northmen know that you were blessed by a sphinx in King's Landing. Tell Snow the sphinx is the riddle, not the riddler. He will know what those words mean." Alleras said.
"Aye. I will march to the God's Eye and confront this wizard. He will be pissing in his breeches when he sees me." the big septon laughed to the delight of his followers.
Alleras smiled. If anyone pissed out of fear, it would not be Jon Snow. Her work was done. Moon and his lackeys would deliver the words.
Arya resisted the urge to punch her brother in the chest. For one, she was not a little girl visiting the crypts of Winterfell for the first time, when Jon, covered in flour, pretended to be a ghost moaning for blood. How they had all laughed at the prank - Jon and Robb, and then Bran and Arya. Sansa had run shrieking for the stairs. It was one of her fondest memories, and always brought a smile to her face. She needed that today to salve her frustration.
She waited to speak to him. Lines of prisoners were scattered about, waiting to board the riverboats on the shore of the God's Eye. Smallfolk, eager to earn coin, swarmed over the ships, fixing sails, loading provisions, and repairing decks for the trip south to the Blackwater Rush. Arya glared, and Jon, aware of his sister's scowl, dismissed the boys to their work and made his way over, Ghost by his side.
"You look angry." he said, with a wisp of a smile.
"What are you doing?" Arya said pointedly.
Jon quirked his eyebrows and gestured to the dozens of boats serviced by the Winter Town boys and the villagers. "There are thousands of prisoners. Some can head south on foot or horse, but it would be better to send many by the river. They can disembark near Tumbleton or continue on to King's Landing."
"That's not what I mean." Arya hissed. "Why aren't we doing anything about Sansa? Why don't you convince Robb to march into the crownlands?"
"And do what? Even with the Karstarks, we had only ten thousand men. King's Landing has high walls, and the Red Keep even higher ones. Marching is no good if it leads to defeat."
"We have to free Sansa. We can't leave her in that hell hole." Arya said stubbornly.
"I take it you don't think Jaime Lannister will keep his oath."
Arya snorted. "Do you believe that? I have met Cersei and Tywin Lannister. The whole family is rotten. Joffrey ordered Sansa beaten by his guards even when the Kingslayer was a prisoner. What will they do to her now?"
Jon sighed. "Nothing good. But we would need a much larger army to storm the city. Or…." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Arya, how well do you know the Red Keep?"
"Well enough. I don't know all the guard towers but the castle is smaller than Winterfell. We stayed in the Tower of the Hand for four moons, before Robert Baratheon's death." Arya said.
"They killed Lord Stark three moons later. How did you escape the Red Keep? And where did you stay for that time?" Jon asked.
Arya's eyes turned wet. "The queen sent guards to capture me. Syrio Forel, my dancing master, held them off. He only had a wooden sword, and it was useless against Meryn Trant's plate armor. Syrio told me to run. I fled into the tunnels under the castle. There are lots of them and they led me to Flea Bottom. I found my way by following a path that led me past a skull of the dragon, the biggest one I could ever imagine."
"When the Targaryens ruled, the dragon skulls were hung on the walls of the Throne Room. And the greatest was Balerion the Black. They say his jaw was large enough to swallow an Ibbenese mammoth and his teeth longer than a bastard sword. Robert Baratheon must have moved the skulls into the cellars." Jon mused.
"I begged for food in Flea Bottom. But at night, I returned to the tunnels. I felt safer there than in the streets of the city." Arya said.
"Weren't you concerned the guards would search for you under the castle?" Jon said.
Arya shook her head. "The tunnels stretch forever and in many directions. It would be easy to get lost. Without the chamber with the dragon skulls, I would have never found my way out. Some are so small that you have to crawl on your hands and knees. I only knew one passage well and there are dozens." Her brother's eyes narrowed in deep thought. "What are you thinking, Jon? Do you have a plan?"
"A glimmer. A shadow of a plan." Jon scratched his cheek. "I need more time to think it through. A few men might do what an army could not."
"He is trying to kill me." Tyrion slammed down the silver goblet on the table and proceeded to drink directly from the decanter of sweetwine. The purple drops stained the necklace of linked golden hands.
"It's not even noon. Do you really need to drink so much?" Jaime complained. The two brothers had walked back to the Tower of the Hand after the conference with their Lord Father.
"The wine helps him think." A wiry black haired man said.
"And who are you?" Jaime asked.
"Bronn, my lord. I am the Hand's sworn sword."
"Any good with the blade?" Jaime said, looking at the well oiled longsword and short dirk, hanging from Bronn's belt.
"Your brother's alive, isn't he?" The sellsword smirked. "It wasn't easy to keep him that way."
"Thanks to my father, I won't be alive for much longer." Tyrion guzzled down the Arbor Gold. "The Starks are going to kill me."
"The Starks are not monsters. Perhaps if you promise not to touch her after the marriage, and you spoke to Robb Stark and explained that father had forced you…" Jaime said.
Tyrion gawked at Jaime, too shocked to even continue drinking. "Did you lose your wits along with your freedom in the Riverlands?"
"Robb Stark and Jon Snow will listen to reason. If Sansa Stark's maidenhead remains intact, they will still welcome her return." Jaime said.
Tyrion smacked his forehead with the hand not gripping the wine. "Jaime, why does Father want a marriage with Sansa Stark? It is not for my happiness or hers. He wants Winterfell."
"But, even if Robb Stark died, there would be other heirs." Jaime said, perplexed.
"Our father plans to kill every male Stark. Robb Stark's death would not be enough. Jon Snow, and the two younger brothers would have to die as well. Tell me, how will Sansa Stark feel after the Lannisters kill all her brothers? Do you think she will be happy? Married to the son of the man who murdered her family?" Tyrion said.
"Your father might not succeed. These Starks seem hard to kill." Bronn said. "And Jon Snow and Robb Stark have defied the odds before. The wolves beat the Lannisters at the Trident and the roses at the lake."
"Even better." Tyrion groaned. "If my father fails to kill the Starks, Sansa's brothers will kill me. They will chop off my head or starve me to death in a gibbet."
"I doubt they will kill you so quickly. The word is that Snow likes to torture his enemies. He will probably break your arms and legs first or gouge out your eyes. They say he chopped off some mighty lord's hand for talking back. Although maybe he cuts off your cock and sends it to your father." Bronn grinned.
"Sansa Stark is a child half my age. There are plenty of whores in King's Landing that won't cost me an eye, a hand, or a cock." Tyrion retorted. "Podrick, bring me more wine. I need to be drunk before I inform Sansa of the betrothal. I hope for her sake that she is a fool."
"Why? And why do you need to be drunk?" Jaime said.
The Imp turned to his brother with mismatched eyes of green and black. "Because then she will not realize our father's plan. She won't know that the Lannisters want to claim Winterfell in her name, and that she is a pawn in the plot to murder her family. Better for her to have a head full of silly songs and curse that I am not the Knight of Flowers than to know that she is the reason why her brothers must die. Our father means to write another Rains of Castamere. I hope to spare her of those thoughts until the deed is done. Or until the wolves take my head. Better to be a little fool than see the truth." And Tyrion drank more wine.
Arya had not spoken much with the healer from Volantis. Tending to the wounded and dying gave Talisa Maegyr a cool and unruffled demeanour. Unlike the others in the tent, she stayed composed when faced with bad news. Her presence kept Robb calm, a welcome contrast from the angry Northerners and confused Rivermen. Jon showed little emotion, but his eyes had turned dark, almost a deep purple in the fading afternoon light.
"Are you certain, Ser Raymund?" The Blackfish's voice boomed over the angry whispers.
"Aye. The story spread like wildfire through the city. Tyrion Lannister will marry Sansa Stark in the Red Keep. They say Lord Tywin ordered it when he found the Imp in bed with the girl." The knight stammered and avoided Robb's glare.
"This is an outrage, my Lord." A Manderly brother fumed.
A tall proud man with grey brown hair stood up. The mailed fist on scarlet identified him as a Glover. "Lord Stark, let me avenge House Stark. I will march our forces against the Crownlands, and sack Duskendale."
"And how will that save Sansa?" Jon asked.
"We have to punish the Imp." Robett Glover roared. "He spits on the North. He has escaped Lady Stark's justice at the Eyrie, he broke the oath he swore at Riverrun, and now he means to take Lady Sansa's virtue."
"I doubt the Lannisters care much about Duskendale. And if we march our troops to King's Landing, that would hasten the betrothal, not prevent it. Assuming that Tywin Lannister does not set a trap on the kingsroad or near Rosby." Jon said.
"The insult must be answered." Glover said.
"Not by losing our men. We must keep our heads clear. Ser Raymund, when is the wedding?" Jon said.
"In a fortnight." the knight replied.
"I wish to save my sister. But my brother is right. We cannot rush into a trap. My duty is to House Stark, and I will not be fooled by Lord Tywin." Robb said.
The tent flaps opened, and a Vale knight dragged forth a swarthy bearded brute of a man. He was dressed in the plain brown robes of a septon but an ugly spiked club was strapped to a leather belt. A sword was pointed at the burly neck, and blood could be seen on the man's ham like fists. "I found this man and a band of Poor Fellows wandering about the camp." Ser Mychel Redfort said
"That is Septon Moon. I saw him preaching in King's Landing. He is a rabble rouser and a fool." Ser Raymund declared with distaste.
"Which one of you is Jon Snow?" Moon thundered.
"Why do you ask about my brother?" Robb replied.
"Because he is a devil worshiper and a heretic. I mean to defeat his vile sorcery." The man roared as he stood, and his head scraped against the top of the tent.
"And how do you plan to do that?" an amused Jon asked.
"With this." The man took out from his pouch a small wooden figurine. Arya craned her neck to get a better look. The intricate carving was shaped like a woman squatting in hands and knees with the body of a lion and the wings of a hawk. "The sphinx is the riddle, not the riddler." Septon Moon cackled, thrusting the strange object forward like a holy symbol.
Jon's eyes narrowed. "Who gave you that?"
"A trader from Lys. He said the sphinx would protect me from your spells." Moon said, the tremor of doubt clear in his loud voice.
"A young man with light brown skin the color of ale and curly dark brown hair?" Jon asked.
"You are a sorcerer!" Moon's eyes bulged.
"If I was a sorcerer, I would not need you to bring me this message." Jon snatched the wooden figurine. "I know the riddle of the sphinx. The Lannisters do not."
"Enough, Sers. Disarm this man and send him away. Ser Raymund, thank you for the news." Robb ordered. "Now, my lords, I ask your leave."
"But Lord Stark, what of Lady Sansa? What can we do?" Robett Glover asked. .
"We can do nothing, Glover. Marching on King's Landing will not save my sister." Robb said.
"But.. but…."
"Enough." Robb stood up, silencing the grumbling. "I am the Lord of Winterfell, and this is my decision. I will not waste lives on a fool's errand."
The tent emptied and Arya followed Jon out. The sphinx had disappeared from his hand.
Arya had no stomach for dinner that night. She stayed with her dire wolf at the edge of the lake. Nymeria had grown sleek and grey and huge - her head taller than most horses in the camp. She had no fear of steel and fire and backed down to no one, not even her brothers. Arya wished she was as strong and fierce as her wolf. She practiced the water dance under the moonlight.
Nymeria caught the scent first, sniffing the darkness until red eyes and pale white fur emerged. The white wolf waited patiently until Arya sheathed both Needle and Gram. Ghost led them away, and the two wolves slipped past Robb's guards with ease.
Jon, silent as his wolf, put a finger on his lips, and Arya went to his side quietly. The sentries escorted a man in a brown tunic with a red apple on gold sigil into the tent. Arya had seen Owen Fossoway around the camp with the Reachmen. Robb motioned him to sit and the Stark guards left, far enough that no conversation could be heard. "How is your father?" Robb asked.
'He is well, my lord. I thank you for allowing Jon to tend to his fever. He has recovered fully."
"You can thank Jon himself." Robb said and his brother came out from the shadows. The stocky man's face broke into a wide smile.
Jon shrugged. "It was nothing, but I have something I need to ask. I need your aid."
"Anything, Jon. You have helped me out many times at the Citadel."
"This is not a small request, Owen. I will understand if you say no. And the treatment of your father and the other prisoners from the Reach will not change if you decline."
"What do you need?" Owen's smile was replaced by a look of earnest determination.
"In a fortnight, the Iron Throne intends to marry Sansa Stark to Tyrion Lannister. That will not happen. I plan to take Sansa from King's Landing." Jon said.
"But….. " Owen's face scrunched up in concern. "She is well guarded. Sansa Stark is in the Tower of the Hand, and I am sure she is watched by the Imp's guards, Tywin Lannister's spies, and even the Kingsguard."
"No one said it would be easy." There was a faint smile on Jon's face.
Robb threw up his hands. "It's a crazy idea. And I think my brother is insane. But he believes that with the right team, he can steal Sansa from the Lannisters."
"The right team?" Owen asked, puzzled.
Jon placed down the wooden carving. "Alleras is in King's Landing. But I need your help. I need you to act as my eyes and ears in the Red Keep, and your silence. You cannot say anything to the Tyrells, and you will have to help on the day of the wedding."
Owen goggled. "You mean to take her then? But that's when she will be watched the most!"
"But also when the Keep will be the most crowded. There will be many visitors, guests and guards at the castle. And Sansa will be on the move." Jon said.
Owen nodded. "If anyone can pull this off…. Alright, Jon. We have been friends for a long time, and you have never let me down. I will do whatever I can to help you rescue your sister. But... I have two requests. I won't tell anyone but the Fossoways are bannermen to the Tyrells. I cannot stand by if you plan to kill any Tyrells or other Reachmen."
"Very well. No roses will be harmed." Jon said. "And the second request?"
Owen stroked his cheek deep in thought. "You have done some strange and astonishing things. Some day I will ask you for a favor. And you must swear to repay that debt. I promise it will be nothing that will harm the Starks."
"Done. You have my word - and my thanks."
Owen smiled as they clasped hands. "We are friends for life, Jon. I am happy to fight on your side. I never liked the Lannisters anyway."
"We leave for King's Landing tomorrow night." Jon said and bade Owen good night.
As soon as he left, she sprang out from hiding. "I am coming too, Jon." Arya said. "You won't leave me behind."
Jon chuckled and rubbed her hair fondly. "Of course you are, little sister." Robb only shook his head in dismay.
Crows and ravens cawed and croaked near the gold tinted window. Darkness had fallen over the city but torches and lanterns flickered in the towers of the Red Keep. Sansa wondered if the birds also stared at the comet burning in the night, the color of blood and flame and sunset, and brighter than the moon. Maester Luwin had spoken of stars with tails lost in the heavens but Old Nan would have scoffed. A red star burned in the sky three hundred years before, a year before Aegon and his sister wives had conquered Westeros. Sansa wondered if a dragon would fly again over Kings Landing.
Sansa Stark looked down from the high window. The Tower of the Hand stood alone at the western edge of Aegon's Hill, away from the massive drum towers crowned with iron ramparts and bristling with catapults that guarded the Blackwater Rush and Bay. A somber Tyrion told her two nights ago of the wedding, jesting that he would be the Florian to her Jonquil. He promised to treat her well. Sansa curtsied and bowed and accepted his false promises. But she knew. She was not a fool like Florian.
Tyrion was a liar. He might have been Hand of the King but true power was held by Lord Tywin. The Lannister army kept Joffrey on the Iron Throne, and there was only one reason Tywin would want this marriage - for the Lannisters to claim Winterfell. But that could only happen if Robb was killed, and Jon, and Bran, and Rickon. The Lannisters might even murder her mother. So long as she was wedded to a Lannister, the threat to her family was real. Even if the Starks retreated North, Lord Tywin would send assassins to push a claim to the North in her name.
Sansa stared at the ground, one hundred and fifty feet away. It would only hurt for a short time, she thought. She would fly through the air like a bird until hitting the bailey below. And she would see Lady again and her Lord father. Would he forgive her? Would he absolve her betrayal of his plan to the Queen? She had been in love with the pageantry of the court, the lords and ladies glittering in silks and velvets and gems, the tournaments and the fine feasts. All it had cost was Ned Stark's head, her freedom and a war that consumed the Riverlands.
Sansa leaned forward, her hands grasping the cold stone. Her mother would be sad, but Arya and her brothers would understand. She would see Father soon.
"Stop, little bird." A rough voice rasped behind her.
"Why should I?" Sansa said. "What is left for me here?"
Sandor Clegane grunted. "The little lord is not the worst of the monsters here. He won't beat you." Sansa stepped her right foot onto the window. "And you will never get revenge."
"My brothers will do that for me. They will take Joffrey's head if they reach King's Landing." Sansa said.
"Maybe, or they might go back North. The wolves have won the battles but lost many men. And it is hard to breach the city walls. Only one way to be sure about revenge. To get it yourself." Sandor said.
Sansa turned to her bodyguard. "What would you know about revenge?"
Clegane laughed like a snarling dog trapped in a pit. He pointed at the left side of his face - cracks on his cheek of dead black flesh, a mass of scars around his left eye, and burns that reached from his ears to his throat. "My brother did this to me when I was seven. The village woodcarver gave me a toy for my name day, a wooden knight. I hid it from Gregor and when he found out, he shoved my head into burning coals and held me there as I screamed. One day, I will kill him. My sword will be the last thing he ever sees."
"How old are you now, Ser?" Sansa asked.
"I am no bloody Ser. Two and Nine." Sandor said.
"So it has been twenty two years - and you haven't gotten revenge?" Sansa asked.
"It is not easy to kill the Mountain." Clegane barked. "And it won't be easy to bring Joffrey down. But the day he falls, won't you want to be alive? To see him dead or beaten by your hand or another? My brother killed my father, and raped and murdered my sister. She was younger than you are now. Every day, I think of how fucking happy I will be when the Mountain is gone."
Sansa hesitated and stepped away from the window. "But how? Joffrey is protected by guards. There are gold cloaks and red cloaks….."
Sandor took her dainty hand into a giant studded leather glove. "Don't know. But you can't do anything if you are dead."
Clegane poured her a goblet of wine and stood next to the table, between her and the window. He won't let me jump, Sansa realized. The Hound had saved her or perhaps proved only that she was a coward. In the end, she was just a little bird, caged by the lions.
"Are you certain of your plans?" Robb asked. The ships had been loaded full of prisoners and would sail south after sunset to the Blackwater Rush. Arya and Jon would go with Owen Fossoway on the Wolf Wind, captained by loyal Mandery men and a few Wintertown boys.
"Certain? No - But I would trust Owen with my life. And Alleras is a good friend and clever." Jon replied. He gave Ghost a tug on his pale shaggy fur and hugged Nymeria goodbye. Dire wolves had never been seen south of the God's Eye.
"I wish we knew more. A few tunnels underneath the Red Keep, and two spies in the city. That is hardly enough to bet your life." Robb protested.
"If we knew more, the Lannisters might suspect our coming. Two things have worked against us. The Tyrells joined the Iron Throne and your mother released Ser Jaime. The Lannisters believe they are winning - that we must sing and dance to Lord Tywin's tune. Either we march our troops into the Crownlands or we abandon Sansa. We need to change the game. When you raced down to Riverrun with only the horse, the North won because of speed and surprise. Just think, Robb. What could you do if Sansa was free and not trapped in King's Landing?" Jon said.
"I could go anywhere in Westeros. I could send the army back north, or siege Casterly Rock, or even march to the stormlands and attack King's Landing north through the kingswood."
"If we have Sansa, the Lannisters have no hold over us. We can starve them in their castles. We can go home to Winterfell. We can strike anywhere. We can force them to defend and their men are all trapped in King's Landing." Jon said.
"It is a good plan but dangerous. You know what will happen if you are captured..." Robb said.
"I won't be taken alive, Robb. We are playing for the highest of stakes. Either we kill them or they will kill us. There is no middle ground." Jon said.
"If the danger is too great…." Robb said.
"Aye, I know. I will send Arya back. I will do my best to keep her safe." Jon said.
"If you did not take her, she would have followed you anyway. Our sister swears that even blindfolded, she can guide you through the tunnels." Robb smiled as the dire wolves nipped each other playfully. "I plan to march north. Ironborn have been seen near the Cape of Eagles. Lord Mallister believes the Greyjoys will attack Seagard to avenge their losses at the Neck. I will keep men at Harrenhal and the crossroads but take most of the army up the Blue Fork."
"Do you intend to raid into the crownlands?" Jon asked.
"I will send outriders east, south and west. But not to raid, only to be seen. Let the Lannisters wonder where we may strike next. Or even the Greyjoys. I wonder if Tywin has allied with Balon Greyjoy." Robb said darkly.
"Keep the dire wolves with you, Robb. Trust no one that Ghost, Nymeria or Grey Wind dislike." Jon said. "Do not let your guard down until our enemies are beaten."
Robb nodded. "Father always said that we must hope for the best but plan for the worst."
Jon hugged his brother. "I wish you good fortune in the wars to come."
"Take care of yourself, Snow. Bring our sisters back to me - both of them."
The brothers parted as night fell over the cold steel waters of the God's Eye. Above them, the comet burned blood red, fire red - a bloody blade pointed at King's Landing. Jon boarded the Wolf Wind and headed south.
Author's Notes
Lothar Frey is the one who comes to negotiate for Walder after Robb marries Jeyne/Talisa. He is noted to be cunning and well spoken. For some reason, Lame Lothar was one of the six or seven to launch Hoster Tully's death boat. Of course, he was instrumental in the Red Wedding.
"We find our true friends on the battlefield." This is probably the biggest problem with Season 8. Ned Stark believes this - why don't Jon, Arya and Sansa? Like her or not, Daenerys Targaryen is the only reason why the North has any chance against the White Walkers.
It makes total sense for Edmure Tully to marry. His father just died - He needs heirs. It is also an interesting point that House Frey because they are quite secluded would not suffer any impact from the Mountain and other Lannister raids in the Riverlands. They started as the strongest house (by swords) and their relative advantage increased during the war.
There is a chapter where Tyrion captures Baratheon loyalists who name themselves Antler Men and try (pitifully) to rebel against the Throne. Their heads are catapulted at the enemy in the Battle of the Blackwater. I suspect there is some historical analogue to this. Otherwise it is a detail that GRRM really doesn't develop.
Men die in war - so do Kings. Harold Godwinson died with an arrow wound to the head or eye. Richard the Lionhearted was hit by a crossbow bolt and the wound turned gangrenous. He died ten days later. And Richard III was forced to dismount after leading a cavalry charge. Then he was surrounded and hacked to death by halberds.
In the books, when Jaime first comes back to King's Landing, his father tries to get him to marry Margaery Tyrell. Tywin seems to think he can get Jaime to marry Margaery and Cersei to marry Oberyn. I see Tywin as an incredibly overbearing parent who views his children as prizes for his glory. In the TV show, Jaime is willing to marry if Tyrion is spared and sent to the Night's Watch. Tywin wants heirs. Sansa Stark has optionality - if he can kill Robb and Jon, she has a claim to the North. Say she doesn't though - she still has Stark blood - and the Starks are the oldest noble family in Westeros - 8,000 years old. What would Margaery Tyrell or Oberyn Martell bring the Lannisters? Prestige, and soldiers of course (assuming you could trust either family) - but no land. In the book, Margaery has two older brothers - she is not giving the Reach away.
Orys Baratheon was rumored to be Aegon's bastard brother. He killed Argillac the Arrogant, the Storm King. The daughter Argella claimed Storm's End would resist to the last man but then the stories say she got suckered by Orys' gentle words. Orys was captured by the Dornish a few years later, and they chopped his hand off before returning him to Aegon the Conqueror.
The unnamed septon is Meribald who takes Podrick and Brienne to the Inn at the Crossroads. In this story, he is also the one who delivers the food to the inn before Arya arrives.
Septon Moon is one of the colorful characters who leads one of the Faith Militant uprisings in Fire and Blood. He is killed by poison, presumably on the orders of Jaehaerys. Mysaria was the mistress of Daemon Targaryen, a dancer from Lys. She is his unofficial Master of Whispers. Maester Aemon mutters "The sphinx is the riddle, not the riddler" to Samwell Tarly who then repeats the words to Alleras. It implies that Alleras is Sarella Sand in disguise.
The march on Duskendale by Robett Glover was a huge mistake. Tyrion wonders whether Robb Stark has finally made an error but it was a function of Roose Bolton and Tywin Lannister conspiring together. It highlights the enormous mistake Robb made in trusting a man who made his skin crawl. In the TV show, Robett Glover is a ninny as opposed to the Mormonts. He makes the whole "I am sorry I missed the fight" speech but actions matter more than words.
Writing this chapter made me wonder about the importance of a female hostage in the world of Game of Thrones. On the one hand, the notion of Sansa and Arya being less valuable than Jaime Lannister is clearly stated by Robb at Riverrun. Then again, Brandon Stark and his father rush to their deaths when they believe Rhaegar kidnapped Lyanna. So which is it? Are girls important enough to go to war? I see the North as a bit like Scotland - easy going but often prone to furious reactions over points of honor. I think marrying Sansa to the Imp would be seen as a great provocation to the Stark bannermen - and I also think that would be Tywin's bet.
The tallest medieval castle in Europe is the Chateau Coucy, measuring 55 meters high by 35 meters wide for the castle tower. Osaka Castle measured 59 meters high. Both towers have been destroyed since in wars. Heights are not very consistent in A Song of Ice and Fire but Harrenhal and Storm's End are clearly taller than 150 feet, but also impossible with medieval technology. After all, the Hightower is taller than the 700 feet high Wall!
When Joffrey shows Sansa her father's head on a spike (A Game of Thrones, Chapter 67), she thinks about shoving Joffrey over the parapet to his death. It is a short moment and then the Hound wipes the blood off her lip. Had Sansa done that, I think there is a very good chance the war ends much better for the good guys - and we would only have two books! The Game of Thrones and then a second book when Robb kicks Tywin's ass.
I looked forward to the Clegane Bowl, and was disappointed, like much of Season 8. But if you think about it, the Hound was a seasoned killer when he was 12! Why didn't he try to kill the Mountain years before? The most likely explanation is that Tywin was smart enough to keep the two separated. But for almost twenty years? Sandor and Gregor hated each other. They would have fought way before 299 AC. And to be honest, Book Tywin's all knowing attitude got old. It got tiresome to see Tyrion pat himself on the back for his cleverness, but then only twiddle his thumbs as we got foreshadowing for the Red Wedding in the Tyrion chapters.
The second condition - a debt of honor to House Fossoway - is a big deal. But not for many chapters. Jon is asking a lot from Owen, and Owen does the same down the road. Owen's favor will be harder than stealing into an enemy city and rescuing a sister.
"I wish you good fortune in the wars to come." These words are not lucky. Arthur Dayne said them before the Tower of Joy battle. Mance says it to Stannis before he is executed. Jon says it to Daenerys at Eastwatch.