Honor & Fealty chapter 8
A/n: To my surprise, this chapter was a thrill to write. I am not sure if it's because the story is really starting to come together or that the details seem to finally click but the momentum is starting to rise. Either way, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I think you will.
Being the Knight of the Bloody Gate was bloody boring at best.
It was not like everyone in the Realm was runing over each other in a mad rush to get into the Eyrie.
Yet in spite of the silent crypt that was the passway towards the Bloody Gate, Lord Jon Arryn of the Vale chose him to be commander of the Bloody Gate. A part of Brynden began to believe that this was Hoster Tully's way of screwing him over for not falling in line.
He was sick of it all.
Sick of looking at rocks and a clear blue sky without one cloud in sight. The mind numbing stillness of the terrain was like having boils all over his skin.
Most of all, Ser Brynden of House Tully, the Blackfish, the Knight of the Bloody Gate, was sick of being an ornamental knight.
What was the point of being a knight if his skills were not put to use for something other than training soldiers to pace around and look out into the horizon at nothing?
In the days where he had nothing else to do, he reminisced of better days long since past.
The War of the Ninepenny Kings felt like another lifetime ago. For most others who only heard of the battles fought against Maelys Blackfyre and the Band of Nine across the Stepstones, it was history and legend.
For Brynden, it was a part of his life. Some of his greatest days were when he fought alongside such great men as Ser Barristan Selmy, who won the day by slaying Maelys the Monstrous.
Among the many he fought alongside were men who would make history and become living legends in their own time.
Tywin Lannister, who was knighted after the war and would later become the Warden of the West. Tywin would serve, for a time, as Hand of the King to a man who also fought in the War of the Ninepenny Kings.
His name was Aerys II Targaryen. Westeros would one day know him by a very distinct moniker.
The Mad King.
Ormund Baratheon and his son, Steffon, fought side by side against Maelys the Monstrous. When Ormund died on the battlefield, Steffon Baratheon became lord of Storm's End.
Steffon would have three sons. His eldest, Robert, would go on to raise a rebellion against the Targaryens known as Robert's Rebellion to some and The War of the Usurper to others.
When Robert Baratheon killed Prince Rhaegar at the Battle of the Trident, the Targaryen family line was forever cut. The rubies that fell from Rhaegar's armor mingled with the blood shed from his body and sank deep into what would be called by some as the Ruby Ford.
As for Robert Baratheon, he would callously step over the corpses of Elia and her children on his way to the Iron Throne in the Red Keep, where he would rule over Westeros as King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.
It was a violent time to live through. Many people on both sides perished and Ser Brynden Tully could not think of any other place he would have wanted to be than in the thick of the action.
Looking up into the vast sky, Brynden Tully spoke as if he was throwing a challenge to the Gods, whoever they were. "This can not truly be my final post in life. If there's anyone out there who would bother to hear an old war dog's prayer, I need some real action before my wrinkled arse hits the dirt."
In that moment, as if they were calling him on that challenge, a messenger raven landed right in front of him. Feeding the bird a handful of corn, Brynden took the message from its leg.
Dearest Uncle Brynden,
I could not send this to my father, Edmure or even Lysa. Whenever I was troubled, I could always count on you. If it is possible for you to make the long journey from the Vale to Winterfell, please come to me. I must see you right away. There are things that are happening to my family and I am powerless to do anything about it. Come to Winterfell and I will tell you everything.
Your niece,
Catelyn Stark, Lady of Winterfell
Brynden was not a learned man but he was educated and observant enough to tell from the handwriting and the way that the parchment appeared almost torn and wrinkled that Catelyn was more than upset over something.
With Lord Arryn's approval along with a provision of food and drink as thanks for his service, Ser Brynden of House Tully resigned his post as Commander of the Bloody Gate, packed his personal effects, mounted his faithful cob and rode out for the Kingsroad.
By the time he reached the intersection of the River Road and the Kingsroad, the Bloody Gate and the Vale were both well behind him. It was the first time in far too long since he could breathe the fresh air and he drank it in as if it were the richest Dornish Red.
Turning his eyes north, Brynden released a sigh of relief and rode towards the Neck, thanking the Gods that he didn't have to go through the Crossings and suffer the likes of Lord Walder Frey and the rest of his lecherous brood of children, grandchildren and bastards.
While most other Southrons were hesitant to go on the Kingsroad through the Neck to the North, Brynden had no reservations against it.
Crossing through the causeway led him right into the Neck, where the murky water hid quicksand beneath it's murky countenance along with the many creatures lurking between the two. He had not gone farther than five feet down the causeway through the Neck when he was approached by two children dressed in green clothes. Considering how small the crannogmen were, it would have been easy to mistake most of their adults for children.
"Ser Brynden Tully. I am Jojen Reed, son of Lord Howland Reed of Greywater Watch. This is my sister, Meera. We told our father you would be arriving. He has arranged for your safe passage to Moat Cailin but he wishes to speak with you beforehand."
"How did you know I was coming? You haven't been intercepting any ravens lately, have you?" Brynden asked suspiciously.
"I saw you coming. We thought to help you. It's a long journey to Winterfell. You ought to get some rest before you go see Lady Stark."
"How exactly will you be helping me, boy?" Brynden asked.
"Meera and I will tend to your horse. When you cross the Neck, your faithful cob will be waiting for you north of Moat Cailin."
From out of nowhere, thirty crannogmen and their spear wives surrounded Brynden at all sides. Even as he dismounted his horse, Brynden Tully still stood head and shoulders over all of them.
One of them, a woman who was no taller than Brynden's hip, took the Blackfish by the hand and led him to a nearby boat. "It is as much a risk to wade in these waters as it is to drink from them. No harm will come to you though, Ser Tully. Lord Howland has tokens of guest right prepared for your arrival."
Brynden climbed into the boat, which was not as rickety as it looked, and sat down carefully before the crannogmen pushed it forward. The woman and two rowers maneuvered them through the marshes towards the headwaters of the Green Fork. Before they disappeared into the deep parts of the Neck, Brynden saw Meera and Jojen led his horse through the narrow causeway.
No one knew what Greywater Watch looked like. No one ever saw it. No one ever found it.
Neither did Brynden Tully.
They sailed him to a small floating island where a tent was set and a fire burned softly with food cooking over it. The man who sat at the fire was 5 feet 7 inches tall with stubble on his cheek. The rest of his face was hidden under his green hooded cloak. A bow sat at his left alongside a quiver of arrows. In his hands was a two pronged spear.
"Welcome to the Neck, Ser Brynden of House Tully. Or do you prefere Blackfish? It's often hard to tell how I am to address those with many names." Howland said politely.
Brynden smirked. "Considering how I'm in a good mood right now, I will allow you to address me as Ser Brynden. Seeing as you would acknowledge my rank as a knight, I will recognize your rank in equal measure, Lord Howland Reed."
Howland looked at him silently for a moment before reaching into his tent and bringing out two mugs of beer. "To days left behind and better days still to come."
He never expected to get a mug of beer from Howland Reed. On the other hand, Brynden Tully had to remind himself that the Crannogmen were, if not anything else, unpredictable and resourceful. Taking a mug in hand, Brynden quipped, "And to right now for not being dead yet."
With a clash of their mugs, they drank heartily.
"How did you find your journey here, Ser Brynden?" Howland asked as he cooked the fish and fattened frogs over a spit.
"The air is thick with wet moss and I almost went mad from the constant croaking of frogs, the creaks of crickets, the hisses of serpents and the movement of lizard lions beneath the water's surface. Having been Commander of the Bloody Gate for longer than I would ever want to count, I can only say one thing about the Neck." Brynden spoke with a frown on his face before he devoured his fish and washed it down with a generous gulp of beer and smiled. "I fucking love it."
"You have quite the sense of humor. Is that why your brother shunned you? Because he couldn't laugh?"
"How do you know that?" Brynden asked suspiciously.
"My son told me and yet I still do not know for certain what he meant by it."
Brynden scoffed. "My brother tried to pull me off the battlefield by arranging a marriage between myself and Bethany Redwyne. I refused. He shunned me."
Howland stood up from his chair and looked out onto the marsh lands of the Neck. "Your brother, Lord Hoster, may be the last of his bloodline to rule over the Riverlands."
"What makes you say that?" Brynden asked incredulously.
"My son, Jojen, has seen many things. Your brother's health will fail him and he will die within a year or so without a suitable successor to Riverrun. Lysa Arryn will be lost to dementia within the year. Then again, perhaps she already has. Edmure will become a stain upon the name of House Tully. If there is not a suitable heir to rule from Riverrun, the other houses will vie with one another by sword or coin in order to ascend to power. If not them, the Ironborn will see the lack of leadership and order as their opportunity to take the Riverlands by force."
"What of Catelyn? What happens to her?" Brynden asked. It was more than upsetting that such misfortunes would befall his brother, his niece Lysa and his nephew Edmure. What terrible fate was in store for Ned Stark's wife?
"No matter what name she goes by, Catelyn Stark will always be Hoster Tully's daughter." Howland Reed spoke with resignation as he sighed. "It's getting late. Rest well. You have a long road ahead of you, Ser Brynden."
Brynden was about to protest when he felt himself become sleepy. The world fell out from under him and everything went dark.
The heat and light of the sun rising in the eastern horizon, the smell of a rabbit cooking on a spit over a fire and the whinny of a horse was enough to wake Ser Brynden from his slumber.
He rose to find himself in the ruins of Moat Cailin.
Looking outside, he saw the two children of Howland Reed standing by his horse, which was alive and well just as they promised.
Storming out of the Gatehouse Tower with his sword drawn, he was ready to unleash his fury on the Reeds until he found himself staring down the arrow Meera had aimed at his head.
"Take one more step and I will send you to meet the Stranger, Blackfish." Meera said.
Any other day, Brynden Tully would have laughed at her brash attitude. This was not one of those days. "How in the Bloody Seven Fucks did your father manage to knock me out without so much as one punch thrown?!"
"The fish you ate was soaked in the sleeping drought. It was slow acting so as to not put you to sleep right away. Would you care for some rabbit, Ser Tully? My sister suggested you get the rump because you bay in the likeness of a mule when you sleep." Jojen said with a deadpan tone as he extended the cooked rabbit before him.
"You mean to say a sound like an ass when I snore?" Brynden asked. Meera tilted her head and shrugged. After sheathing his sword, Brynden took a knife from his side and spoke not a word as he carved out the choicest part of the rabbit and skewered it before lifting the cooked meat to his mouth and taking a tenuous bite. Sensing nothing foul in the taste and texture, Brynden feasted on the rabbit. Jojen then offered him a cup. "Fresh water from the White Knife. Nothing more."
Brynden looked at him with suspicion. Jojen took a drink from it to show that it was safe.
Brynden washed down the rabbit with the water offered to him. "Your father says you can see things."
"So do you, Ser. You have a pair of eyes like all the rest of us."
"Don't get smart with me, boy. Do you have some bone to pick with me or House Tully that you would slander them?"
Jojen shook his head. "No, Ser. I have not any issue with your family. I only regret that their reign will come to a sad end."
"Why will my family's reign in the Riverlands end?"
"There is no one fit in House Tully to hold rank in Riverrun after Hoster Tully dies." Jojen said as he walked over to Brynden's horse and walked it over to him. "The trouts will be devoured in one way or another. Just as summer turns to autumn and day turns to night, the fall of House Tully from the pedestal of power in the Riverlands shall give rise to another."
"Why do you talk in riddles? Speak clearly." Brynden snapped.
Without even flinching at the elder man, Jojen calmly handed Brynden the reigns to his horse. "Go to Winterfell. You will find answers there." Jojen replied before he and Meera walked through the causeway and vanished into the Neck.
"Next time, I'll just hop a boat on the Narrow Sea if I want to go north." Brynden Tully muttered to himself as he mounted his horse and rode off on the Kingsroad into the North.
Several yards down, Brynden came across his niece's eldest son and daughter as well as Ned Stark's bastard, Jon Snow and the ward of Winterfell, Theon Greyjoy.
The only one among their number who was a stranger to him was the dark haired woman in leather and armor.
The feast held in White Harbor was one that none of them would ever forget.
It was also one where they were not allowed to leave empty handed or without the scent of fish and seafood upon them.
Theon would have been expected to be accustomed to sea food and fish but even he had to take several baths to not smell like he spent five nights in a whale's belly.
Grey Wind, Ghost and Lady walked together with their masters and mistress.
Much to Sansa and Jon's amusement, Dacey and Robb rode together at the helm of the column since they left White Harbor. They weren't holding hands but they were close enough that no one could come between them.
Though they were deep in their talk with one another about the new training regimens that would certainly be in store for both him and Jon, Robb and Dacey spoke silently about the kiss they shared outside the Merman's Court. There was nothing platonic about it and even Grey Wind knew it. In spite of the myriad of thoughts going through their heads, Robb and Dacey were the first to notice Ser Brynden of House Tully on the Kingsroad.
"Uncle Brynden!" Robb said as he and Sansa rode up to greet their great uncle.
Brynden thought to ask about where they were coming from until he smelt the sea air and the fish from the carts behind them. It was clear to him that they were coming from White Harbor.
"It's good to see you both. Where did you come across direwolves? They haven't been seen for centuries." Brynden said as he looked warily at Grey Wind, Ghost and Lady.
"Their mother died getting them south of the Wall. Robb found them along with Jon and Bran. Six pups for the six of us." Sansa explained.
Looking to the dark haired woman in a bear cloak, Brynden addressed her directly. "If I were to go by the sigil on your armor and the mace at your side, I would suspect you are perhaps a relation to Lady Maege Mormont. Am I right, my lady?"
"Lady Dacey Mormont of Bear Island. The eldest daughter of Maege Mormont, the Lady of Bear Island."
"You have your mother's gaze on you, Lady Mormont. Certainly her spirit and grit to spare." Brynden said with a smile. Dacey smiled at his charm. "I am Ser Brynden of House Tully."
"You are the Blackfish my mother has spoken of so often? It's a privilege to meet you at long last." Dacey said as she looked over the older man with respect.
"What brings you to the North, Ser Brynden?" Sansa asked.
"I am on my way to see your mother, Sansa. In light of the things I have heard in my journeys so far, I have more reason to see her."
"Is something the matter?" Robb asked.
"Nothing, Robb. A long overdue change of pace is what I needed as well as visiting family."
A/n: (drops the mic) BOOM!
A/n: Thanks to Marvelmyra for correcting me on what to call a group of travelers.