Chapter 5

Alayne Stone smiled at her father from the corner of her eye as she Harry placed a heavy clock of blue velvet, the color of the sky on a clear summer's day, and trimmed with the finest red furs around her shoulders. They had embroidered the falcon of Arryn resting in a broken black wheel- the sigil of House Waynwood – so that no one would forget who Harry Hardyng was.

My Harry. My lord, my lover, my husband.

It had been a year of work, but Harry loved Alayne Stone. The bastard daughter of the Lord Protector of the Vale who took care of his sick cousin and Lord. Beautiful Alayne, whose favor gave him the strength to win the great tourney of the Brotherhood of the Winged Knights.

She eyed the fallen green cloak embroidered with mockingbirds with hidden distaste. She had embroidered it herself, using grey and blue thread for the birds, and trimmed her cloak with white fur. Petyr had called her his clever girl when he saw her work. Alayne didn't show him the little direwolf embroidered on the inner collar, but in the morning, her friend Myranda Royce had raised an eyebrow when she saw it.

Myranda didn't say anything, and she was always loud. She just thought it was some pretty decoration, nothing more. She reassured herself.

Her friend had no way of knowing that Alayne Stone wasn't real. Her father, Lord Nestor Royce, was Petyr's man, but Alayne wasn't sure he was to be trusted with the truth either. His cousin, Lord Yohn Royce, was another matter. The proud and powerful Lord of Runestone didn't hide his disapproval of the union. He wished to take Sweetrobin to foster away from "unwanted influences".

Sweetrobin. Alayne and Petyr had to dose him with sweetsleep him again. He was doing well lately, but with the news of the marriage of his cousin and Alayne, the boy became even more impossible to deal with.

His shouts were heard above the Gates of the Moon for days, to no end.

He wants me for himself. And he fears Harry.

It was best not to think about the dosed lording of the Vale.

Alayne let her river blue eyes travel to the wedding guests. Something turned in her belly. It was not just Lord Royce who disliked the union. Lord Gilwood Hunter's eyes were cold as stone. His brother, Harlan, stood by his side in a show of fake unity. It had to be fake, Petyr assured her of it when she saw them arrive next to each other. Ser Harlan had killed their old sire. Gilwood believed it so, at least. And with the death of the middle Hunter brother in a hunting accident, Gilwood would want revenge.

I hope they kill each other and leave us in peace.

Alayne pushed those thoughts away.

There was no reason for such plotting today. It was Alayne's wedding day. A time of joy, merriment and victory.

She looked to another face for solace. Myranda winked at her as the Septon proclaimed Alayne and Harry as husband and wife.

Lady Alayne Hardying let her now-husband kiss her. It was a nice kiss, slightly longer than the teasing kisses Alayne allowed her betrothed to steal from her, but proper all the same.

Harry the Heir was everything Alayne wanted in a husband. Her lord-in-wanting was very handsome and courteous. In Arryn-blue brocade, his pale blue eyes sparkled merrily, and the mop of sandy blond hair shone in the sunlight. He was nothing like the imp. No, don't think of that. Alayne was the maiden daughter of Lord Petyr Baelish. Sansa Stark was a kingslayer and known poisoner. She had been missing for a year and a half. Very likely, she was dead.

Alayne put her best smile on as she turned around. Harry's dimpled smile and bright eyes made something in her churn.

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Val found Lady Brienne in her room packing. Her squire had blushed when she appeared and didn't stop Val from pushing him aside to enter the room. Nor did he utter a word when she closed the door in his face. The poor boy was shocked as he tried to form a coherent word.

"What is the meaning of this?" The taller woman demanded.

Val went straight to the point. "I heard you're leaving without us. Is it the truth?"

"I must seek the true daughters of Lady Catelyn," she said in a straightaway fashion that spoke of practicing those words over and over.

Alys had interrupted her and Jon – again – by storming into Val's chambers in distress. Val had feared another attack, but her lady friend had less war-like explanations for her convenient time. At least this time, I had my peak. It was Jon who was left wanting. It would serve him good for continually keeping delaying their coupling.

By the end of her tirade, Alys was furious, Jon had gone off to beat – train –some poor souls, and Val'' opinion of the Lady Knight had greatly diminished.

"You have a girl to protect here," Val accused her. "A girl who's been through a horrible ordeal and trusts you implicitly, for you were the one who saved her. Now, you're leaving her unarmed to look for girls no one has seen in years."

The tall woman shifted uncomfortably.

"You do not understand. I made a holy vow. Those are important in my world. I would shame myself if I were not to keep it."

Val counted to three in her mind. "You shame yourself by leaving Jeyne!"

"Lady Jeyne has many who would protect her."

"She does," Val conceded. But then continued with a more stern tone, "But her trust is not easily given, especially to people she does not know."

"I do understand, my lady. I pity Lady Jeyne, but what I can do for her, so can others. Lord Snow has known her for all her life. His character is much that of Lord Stark. I can see he would protect her with his life, even if she is not his blood."

"Of course he would. Jon protects those in need. He always has. But Jon is a man. Men have been the woes of all Lady Jeyne's torments."

"She has you and Lady Alys."

"Alys is no warrior and Jeyne barely knows me. All she knows me for is being a leader of people she spent her life fearing and hating."

"She did not know me before either."

She gave a poor excuse and both knew it.

"Jeyne is an innocent girl who has been beaten, raped, and defiled by a monster that she was forced to marry!" The lady winced at Val's deadly tone. "Jeyne sees you as her savior. You! Not any of us. Her knight. If you leave her, I fear for her state of mind."

The woman's beautiful eyes turned sorrowful. "I must keep my vow," she said in a lower tone.

"Your vow?" Val spitted. "I heard all about your knightly vows. Aren't you supposed to defend the weak? Womenfolk? The defenseless? How is Lady Jeyne not all the above?"

"She is," Brienne whispered. She stared at Val, but her eyes were in some faraway memory. "So many vows. They make you swear and swear," she muttered, but the silent room allowed for Val to hear it all the same.

Lady Brienne straightened her shoulders, and the resolve came back in full strength with it. "I am no knight, my lady. But Lady Catelyn made me her sworn shield. Before they murdered her, I vowed to get her daughters back to her and to safety. I couldn't keep the first promise, but I shall keep the last."

Val shook her head in defeat. Alys was correct. Lady Brienne already made up her mind. Poor Jeyne.

"I am truly sorry, Lady Val." She spoke the truth, Val saw it in her pained eyes, but she still hated her for abandoning Jeyne. "Lady Jeyne deserved a great deal better than what life threw at her. And I hope she can find the safety she desires, but I shall leave in search for Lady Sansa and Lady Arya. I know you judge my decision in a negative light, but I must protect them. It is my duty."

Duty. Val was raised to do her hers. Her duty was to her people and no one else. But now, her duty was also to Jon and Mance's legacy. My duty is to fight for a new dawn. A better dawn. Lady Brienne had a different type of duty, but who was Val to say hers was better?

How many of my people did I leave behind when I joined Mance's crusade? Stubborn Free Folk who would not leave their homes. How many lives were lost when they attacked the Wall? How many saw their last sunrise when King Stannis attacked?

They are dead now, but they haunt me all the same. My ghosts are many, without names or with familiar faces. They all judge me from the Afterlife.

Does Lady Brienne's ghost look like the Lady of Winterfell Jon refused to speak of?

Does Jon see this Lady Catelyn when he closes his eyes, as well?

"I can see your resolve," Val looked around the small, empty room. It looked like Dalla's when she announced her marriage to Mance.

It hurt to look at it.

"We have known each other for a couple of days, but I can honestly say you are one of the best southerners I have met," Val held out her hand. She didn't tell Brienne that she despised most of the southern she met. "I hope we meet each other again."

Brienne shook her hand. Val wanted to use the handshake to keep the lady with her.

The lady-knight saw the world with the same indisputable kindness as Dalla, despite having the warrior's form that Dalla lacked. Dalla would carry a greatsword like that if her weight allowed it. She would swing it against oathbreakers and the Others alike.

"I hope we meet as well. And I wish you good fortune in the war against the Boltons."

"I wish you good wealth, Lady Brienne. And that, in a few years, you can look back and say that you made the right call."

Uncertainty flashed in her eyes. Val wanted to shout at this woman, at the gods for introducing them, but instead, she took her leave. One of Val's weapons wasn't a great sword, but her words could hurt just as much.

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Alys and Jeyne shared the midday meal in the King's Tower solar. Alys tried to keep the conversation going, but it was clear that the doe-eyed brunette was too heartbroken to be easily distracted.

By the time they ended their meal, Alys had returned to sewing a great cloak, Val was mending some of her and Jon's clothes, while Jeyne stared at the fire, her needlework forgotten in her lap.

"Lady Sansa had the best hands of all of us," The soft voice made Val and Alys freeze. She had not turned from the fire, but her words continued. She had not turned from the fire, but her words continued. "Septa Mordane said it all the time. Lady Sansa had a natural talent for embroidering. She was always so pretty too... Sansa did it all. She was beautiful, could dance and sing. She played instruments and knew poetry… I loved her. I still do. I miss her every day. I miss how we used to fall asleep after talking for hours… such foolish conversations, how we would marry handsome knights and be like the beautiful maidens in the songs.

"Lady Arya hated all that. She was terrible at embroidering and cared little for poetry. She was a gifted dancer but barely tried to learn it… I was so mean to her. Sansa and I used to call her Arya Underfoot, or worse, Arya Horseface… Do you think the gods are punishing me because of it?"

Val bit her lip and turned to Alys. Her friend's eyes were slightly wet, but her voice came out clear.

"If the Gods punished all little girls for their stupid actions, we would all be in some type of hell… Torrhen and I did some terrible pranks on our elder brothers but always got away with it. Once a maid was punished for something stupid we had done. I can't remember what. And my lord father had her chastised with six blows from a whip. I never once even imagined he would do something like that. I was never able to look at that girl in the eyes. But if the Gods took my brothers because of it, then fuck the Gods."

Val almost grinned, but her mind was far away.

"My mother and Dalla spent my younger years drilling me in how our family had a duty to our people. I just wanted to run around with the other children. I cared nothing about their lessons. Dalla was the good one. She always listened to our mother. She knew all our people by their names. Dalla learned the healing arts and was a spearwife as well.

"Once, someone came to our village. We all knew she was some powerful woman with great knowledge. I saw her in our home, and I thought: 'Dalla is finally going to be blessed by the Gods for all her work'. In the end, she came for me. I spent years learning from her. I learned the old knowledge, but also history, mathematics, literature, more languages than I know what to do with.

"For the first time, I found something that I loved, but that took me away from my mother and my sister. When I returned to the village, I was not the same girl. But Dalla was still the same kind, gentle, and dutiful sister.

"As she hugged me and asked me about my adventures, I looked at her and wondered 'why'. Why did the Gods pick me? I was willful and brash, always driving my poor mother mad… Dalla was the one that should have been chosen. But she's dead, and I'm not. So I must honor her by continuing her work."

Jeyne gave her a broken smile. "He haunts me every time I close my eyes. I was raised to be compliant to my husband and do as he wished. They trained me in King's Landing on men's pleasures, but never once did I imagine someone like," she began to tremble, but as Alys tried to hold her, Jeyne held up her hand to stop her.

"His days are numbered. I know it. I'll see it done myself… But a part me of me knows that even when he's dead, he'll haunt me all the same."

"He will," Val spoke, not unkindly. "With time, much of those memories will go away, but there will be days when you wake up and remember him. Remember what he did… But, you must get up all the same. You'll find something that will fulfill your life, Jeyne. Not a man. Or a woman. An occupation..."

"With time," Jeyne stared at her as if looking for something.

Inside, Val felt a stab of cold in her chest, but despite it, she nodded.

Whatever Jeyne Poole saw in Val's eyes gave her the strength to pick up the dress and restart her work. When Jon came to call Val and Alys for the war council, neither spoke, but they were all surprised when Jeyne put down the blue dress and followed them.

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"The White Walkers cannot be far from here. The Wall needs protection," Edd argued against Tormund's desire to take everyone south.

"The Bolton's words were clear. They will come for all of us," Val countered. "They might not take up arms against the Night's Watch, but if you didn't have enough men to mend the Wall three years ago, you sure don't have them now. What happens when they kill the Free Folk? Even those mending your castles? You'll be left with old crows, defenseless women, elders, and babes."

"And when the cold comes, you can bet all those will be dead as well," Sigorn said. Silence followed.

"We can't defend the north from the Walkers and the south from the Boltons. If we want to survive, we need Winterfell, and to take Winterfell we need more men," Jon stressed out after some time.

"Aside from the Starks and the Boltons, the most powerful houses closer to us in the North are the Umbers, the Karstarks, and the Manderlys," Ser Davos stated as he placed the carved tokens on each house seat on the map.

"How did the Boltons get Prince Rickon?" The Flint asked.

Jon's brow raised at the title. Val glared at The Flint from behind Jon.

"Lord Manderly found him and hid him away with Lord Umber's help. He was willing to cut a deal with King Stannis, but then the Umbers betrayed him," Ser Davos explained.

He had been sent by Stannis to treat with the Lord of White Harbor after the Stag King attacked Mance's army. Ser Davos had cut a deal with this Lord Manderly, but Stannis died in battle before they could be of help.

"Arnolf Karstark and his sons already declared for the Boltons," The Liddle informed by throwing a letter onto the table.

Jon picked it up, and Val took the opportunity to read it. The spy report was supposed to be sent to Winterfell.

"How did you get this?" Jon asked.

"The men that came back from Stannis's camp. They said that Karstark betrayed them before they even approached Winterfell. When the Bolton's arrived at the battlefield, Stannis was surrounded by traitors."

"My uncle and his sons have no right to Karhold as long as I live. The men won't follow them to battle against Ned Stark's son."

"I beg your pardon, my lady, but they know that a Stark beheaded their lord," Davos delivered the hard words with his typical gentleness.

Alys didn't demur. "My father. I love and mourn him, but he was a traitor… He offered my hand – his last child – to a sellsword, with a love for torture as long as he killed Jaime Lannister for him," Alys shook her head as if to get rid of the pain. "The men of Karhold will open the castle for me. I know it."

"The ones left, I am sure, Lady Alys. The camping at Winterfell followed your uncle."

Alys turned to Jon. "Allow the men who committed treason with a willing soul to take the Black and pardon all of those who open Karhold to me. You might turn many in your favor."

"It shall be done, my Lady," Jon said in a grave tone. "Take Sigorn's men with you. Karhold won't have any strategy to use to help take Winterfell, but it is close to the Dreadfort. If Ramsey took all the forces to Winterfell, he left the Bolton's castle weakened."

"We shall take that castle for you, my lord." Alys nodded with great gravity. Val almost heard the words 'my king' instead. "But what about the Last Hearth? There is no way I can pass an army through Umber's Lands without them knowing."

"No, but Manderly can help." Jon's eyes shifted to Ser Davos and back to the table. He showed them the letter with the broken seal of the Merman. "A vow of fealty, Lord Manderly sent his ships up to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, from there you can get to Karhold."

"It will take time," Alys said. "Especially if you wish for us to take the Dreadfort first."

"So will our campaign," Jon announced. "Stannis freed most of the northwest from the Ironborn. Dacey Mormont died at the Red Wedding, and her sister Alysane died fighting by Stannis' side… House Mormont kept faith with the Starks all this time," Jon turned to Val. "We'll go to Bear Island with a small entourage. From there, Deepwood Motte. We might be able to send an envoy to Torrhen's Square. There are smaller houses on the west side of Winterfell. We can start small and build from there."

"The Tallhart's have had too many losses during the war. I don't think they have that many men left, nor would the Mormonts," Alys warned.

"True. They might add more to our numbers. But if we go there, I am sure their numbers won't be added to the Boltons."

"You mean to make Deepwood Motte your base?" Tor asked as he looked at the map.

Val's eyes followed the path from Castle Black to this castle amidst the Wolfswood, and let out a breath before speaking.

"The Free Folk won't be able to get to you. The only way is through the main road and Umber lands."

"They'll have men waiting for us." The Liddle spoke in agreement.

"Not if we coordinate with the attack on the Dreadfort," Jon spoke. "With the Dreadfort and Karhold on our side, the Last Hearth will be alone. They will either bend the knee or be surrounded from all sides."

"They can't also have that many men." Ser Davos added. "It's a gamble, but it might pay off. But if they don't open the gates, you'll be left with a long siege."

"No, they will fight us." Tor grinned. "The temptation to take out the Free Folk would be too big."

"They betrayed the North the moment they gave Rickon to the Boltons" Jon almost snarled. The Umbers are our enemies now. They shall be treated as such. Tormund, you coordinate with Alys and Sigorn. Approach the Last Hearth only after Alys has the time to send word of the Dreadfort's fall. The Smalljon has a young boy at least," Jon's last words were a dark warning. "I want the child unharmed,"

Val glared at Tor who nodded his consent. "You have my word, Lord Snow."

"What about the lords south of Winterfell?" Alys asked.

Jon had to think for a time. "Lord Manderly assured in the letter that he would send word to them. The Barrowlands and the Rills are a lost cause, for House Ryswell and Dustin are kin of the Boltons."

"Flint's Finger, Widow's Watch, and the Neck have been silent since the Red Wedding," The Flint of the Mountains spoke.

"They wouldn't declare for Stannis, we tried. But Ned Stark's son?" Davos turned to Jon.

"When I get ravens that won't be intercepted, I'll get word to Flint's Finger. Lord Waymar can get word to Widow's Watch." Jon stared at the map in deep thought. "Howland Reed was one of my father's closest friends."

"The Bolton army got past Moat Cailin because the crannogmen fought and killed Victarion Greyjoy," Jeyne said in a soft voice. "But I hear Roose said there were no men to welcome them. The Boltons hate the crannogmen, but they fear just as much."

"Greywater Watch is nearly impossible to contact. If we were to try, there wouldn't be enough time," Jon said, "But at the least, I can count on their neutrality."

"If we get them and the Flints of the South, the Boltons will be surrounded." The Flint said with gleaming eyes.

"And the odds will slightly turn in our favor,"! Jon concluded.

"What about Hornwood?" Jeyne spoke, again with a very low tone. "Hornwood?" Alys asked.

"Ramsay may call himself Lord of Hornwood, but the entire North knows that he forced Lady Donella to marry him and then left her to die in a tower."

"The Hornwood line is spent," Alys countered.

"But not the fighting men. They cannot follow their lord out of love. They fear the Boltons. I heard Lord Stark once said that fear only lasts as long as –"

"That person seems in complete control," Jeyne and Jon concluded at the same time.

"Hornwood lands are between Bolton and Manderly. If Manderly appeared flying the Stark banner and the Dreadfort was taken… The Boltons will be weakened," Ser Davos said. "Lord Manderly might get the Hornwoods to fight with him."

"He might, but they don't love him either. They did love their lady," Jeyne said and then turned fully to Jon.

Val noticed how her chest grew with the air she inhaled and then let out. It seemed like the entire room was giving this fragile girl the time to speak, for the silence that engulfed the room.

"I'll go," She said with a shaking head and hands. "I can go with Alys to East-Watch. One ship is enough to get me up the river to Hornwood. I am Ramsay's wife, the Lady of Hornwood. I can appeal to them, give them a sense of justice. Let me try."

Jon seemed lost for words at the trembling strength of Jeyne Poole. But after some time, he turned to Ser Davos.

"You met with Lord Manderly before, write to him of Jeyne's plans, but you will go with Jeyne to Hornwood. Let's show the Bolton that the North Remembers."