LYMAN

More than two moons had past since Raymun Darry had died fighting the Lannisters. It had been a battle he hadn't meant to be in. He had gone to King's Landing to demand justice for the towns in the Riverlands, pillaged by Gregor Clegane. But there'd been no justice, only a group of Robert's men sent by Eddard Stark to kill the Mountain. Raymun had joined them, and died at the hands of the man he'd set out kill.

In those months since, Lyman had assumed his father's title, but had only just returned to Castle Darry a fortnight ago. It seemed so empty now, devoid of his father's humor and surrounded by burned villages. But still, he was glad to be home.

It wasn't all bad, Sallei had given birth to a boy. She'd named him Willem after Raymun's uncle, once master-of-arms at the Red Keep. It was Willem and Sallei who kept Lyman sane. To face insurmountable odds without loved ones by your side was not a life he envied.

"What are you looking at?" Sallei asked, joining him at the window. From there, he could see nearly all the Darry lands. The rolling green hills were so familiar to him, and though the holdings were small, he loved every inch.

"Everything," he said, shaking his head. "How ever little of it we have left." The nearest village had been burned and rebuilt, and the castle had been taken and reclaimed. Many of his smallfolk had died, or relocated. But he was determined to rebuild what they had lost. These lands were his son's future.

"Amos says the farmers are preparing to plant the spring crops," Sallei offered. As soon as the castle had been reclaimed, Lyman had sent his knights into the surrounding villages. Ser Amos Trane had a small knightly castle, on a piece of good farming land. His holdings supplied much of the closest village as well as Castle Darry. "And Ser Spirre is supervising the rebuildings."

Lyman nodded absently, though both pieces of news were welcome. It seemed as if there was too much to do, too many people looking to him for assistance. He wondered how his father had balanced it all.

Sallei looped her arm through Lyman's and pressed her forehead against his shoulder. "You shouldn't worry so much, my love," she murmured. "We will survive this war. When Robb Stark wins you may even receive some of those lands your family lost before." Lyman huffed. It found that unlikely, but it was only because he lived in an age where the Darry lands had been chipped a way bit by bit. Wars had come and gone, and it seemed that House Darry had the misfortune of always choosing the losing side.

He was considering what lands they might hope to regain when he noticed the smoke on the horizon. After months of fighting battles with the Northmen, he would recognize the black smoke anywhere. The village was burning. Again. "Sallei, get Willem. Have Jared take both of you to the cellar." She looked from Lyman, to the smoke, and back. Her eyes were more angry than scared. She nodded once.

Lyman headed for the ramparts, but was cut off by Ser Hosteen Bryne, commander of the household guard. "You must join your family in the cellar, my lord," the knight advised.

"I will not run," Lyman told him. "We cannot lose this castle."

"I'm afraid we must," Ser Bryne told him. "We are short on men, and the ones we do have are injured and exhausted. They cannot stand another battle, they will fall, and you must not be here when they do." Lyman opened his mouth to argue, but Hosteen cut him off. "I served your father for many years, I pride myself in keeping him alive for most of them. Had I been with him at Mummer's Ford, it would have been me fell, not him. Now, it is my duty to keep you alive, Lyman. You must let me."

Lyman looked at the man for a moment, considering his options. Ser Bryne was correct. They lacked the manpower to successfully hold back the raiders. The Mountain's men were well rested, well fed, and well armored. With the state of his villages, the Darry men were none of those things. "They will die, holding these walls," he realized.

"But they will live long enough to see your family to safety," Bryne told him. "That is their duty. One day you will return, you will reclaim this castle and your lands. You will raise House Darry up with the King's men at your side. But you can only do those things if you are alive. Your son needs a father, Lyman. Go."

Though he was reluctant to abandon his men, his castle, his father's legacy, Lyman knew he had little choice. One day the war would end, and only then would Lyman be able to find peace. He nodded once, and allowed the knight to lead him to the cellar.

Sallei was already waiting there. She had Willem clutched to her breast, bouncing him and whispering soothing words into his ear. Two guards, Jared and Theo, flanked her. "You should have left without me," Lyman chastised. Sallei shot him a look.

"They've breached the walls!" Someone shouted from above.

"You must go, now," Hosteen commanded. Jared and Theo went for the barrels hiding the tunnel. It had been built many years ago, during the Dance of the Dragons, not as an escape but as a way to covertly send messages. The Darrys had supported the Blacks, though the Tullys had backed the Greens. The tunnel had been built so Lord Darry could hold covert meetings with Black soldiers. In the end, their efforts had not mattered. They were found out. The Greens prevailed, and the Tullys gifted much of the Darry holdings to more loyal Lords.

Jared took Willem from Sallei's arms and ushered her into the tunnel, he followed behind with the infant. Lyman waited until they were out of sight before turning back to Ser Bryne. He could hear the footsteps above, heavy and commanding. There were shouts, then screams. "He will find us," Lyman said. "I will stay and fight with you. Jared will get Sallei to her father."

"You will not," Hosteen told him. "I can hold him back long enough for you to escape, but only if you go now. He must not find the tunnel."

Lyman looked at the knight for a long moment. Ser Bryne had served House Darry near as long as Lyman could remember. He had once been beloved by every lady in the household, but now he was an old man. Though Hosteen's skills with a sword had never waned, he did not have the strength he once possessed. He would stand no chance against the Mountain. Lyman pulled the man into a hug, and then nodded. "May the Stranger protect you."

Ser Bryne nodded once, and then drew his sword. Theo ushered Lyman into the tunnel, and followed behind him. The barrels had barely scraped back into place when the door was kicked open. Lyman lingered for a moment, listening to the sound of steel against steel. Theo pushed Lyman on, and after a moment, he began crawling into the blackness.

For a while, the sound of sword fighting could be heard. Then it stopped. The silence that followed was worse.

Lyman emerged in the ruins of a fortress, on a hill, a short distance from Castle Darry. The black smoke rising from the village was thicker now. Sallei nearly tackled him as soon as he was on his feet. "I was so worried you'd stayed behind."

"No," he whispered. "But Ser Bryne did." Sallei paled. Lyman took in the small gathering on the hill. Several knights, a few women. "I came as soon as I saw the smoke," Ser Trane said, shaking his head. It appeared he'd brought every man from his keep, and the women too. Maybe forty bodies in total. "That's it then, isn't it? We've lost."

"The village is burned," Ser Spirre confirmed. "I barely escaped with who I could find. Many of the villagers scattered, but the Mountain's men were chasing them down. It's unlikely we'll see many of them again."

Lyman shook his head. He turned toward his guardsmen. "Escort my wife and son to Seagard, take a few men with you, and all the women. Lord Mallister will protect them until such a time we can return."

Sallei looked none to pleased with the idea. "And where will you go?"

"To Riverrun," he said with a sigh. "This war is not done with me, and King Robb is the only hope we have left." Sallei rolled back her shoulders. To anyone else she surely looked proud and determined. She was exactly the sort of woman Jason Mallister had raised. But Lyman could see the tears in her eyes. He pulled her into his arms and pressed a kiss to her temple. "We will see each other again, my love, I swear it." Then he let her go, and the two parties went their separate ways.