White Harbor was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. From the soaring white cliffs that ringed the harbor to the towering walls that protected the city, all of it seemed to be gleaming white and holding the promise of a better tomorrow. The Manderly men-at-arms were all armored in brightly polished steel plate and wielded gleaming silver tridents in place of lances or spears. The city even smelled fresh, with a crisp, clean bite in the air. Unlike the South where the heat could be blistering, White Harbor had a delightful coolness to it. In the early mornings and in the evenings after the sun had set, he could even see his breath steam in the cold air. For someone who had spent all his life at Storm's End, the cold was a dramatic, and not entirely unwelcome, change.
Edric looked around in wonder at this, the most northern of his father's kingdoms. But it wasn't his father's Kingdom anymore, was it? For Robert Baratheon was dead and his sons and brothers fought amongst themselves for the right to rule while the North had declared that they were once again a free and independent kingdom, free from the rule of the Iron Throne. His Uncle had sent Ser Davos to try and end the Northern rebellion and convince them to bend the knee. But it had been three weeks since they had arrived in the city and still Lord Manderly had been "unable to meet with them." Ser Davos had been muttering about being on a fool's errand for more than a week now.
The quarters that he and Ser Andrew and Ser Davos had been given were very comfortable and gave them a beautiful view of the city and the harbor and Edric delighted in sitting on the balcony for hours just enjoying the view and drinking in the differences between White Harbor and Storm's End. When he wasn't sitting out on the balcony, Ser Andrew had him drilling constantly. Lord Manderly's Master-at-Arms had been kind enough to supply him with a war hammer to at least temporarily replace the one he had lost on the Mad Prendos. Most days his shoulders, arms, back and legs ached from the exertion required to master the hammer. But occasionally, Ser Andrew would drill him with a spear or a sword and shield. Even Ser Davos had drawn his sword a few times for drills, though by his own admission he was more of a rough-and-tumble fighter than a swordsman. That was probably a consequence of his being lowborn and growing up in Flea Bottom. But still, the old Knight had not embarrassed himself in the training yard.
Edric was about to head down to the training yard yet again when there was a knock at the door. Ser Davos looked up and shouted, "Come!"
A servant wearing the greens of House Manderly entered and said, "Lord Seaworth, Lord Manderly has asked for you and your party to join him in his solar. I am to escort you there personally. If you would follow me, My Lord?"
"About damn time," Ser Davos muttered under his breath. "Lead on," he told the servant.
As they walked through the ornate halls of the New Castle, Ser Davos pulled him close and told him, "Edric, I want you to stay quiet in there. Keep your mouth shut, and your ears open. The gods gave you two ears and only one mouth, so listen twice as much as you speak. I don't know what kind of game Lord Manderly is playing at, but I dislike the fact that he knows about your parentage and how he keep us waiting for weeks to see him. No matter what gets proposed, don't react to it. Do you understand?"
"I understand, Lord Seaworth. But what if I'm asked something directly?"
"Then respond. But think before you do. Politics can be deadlier than any battlefield."
Edric nodded and lapsed into silence. What could the Manderlys want with him? He was the son of a King, yes. But he was still a bastard. What value could he possibly have beyond being a hostage or a pawn to trade?
When they reached the door to what he assumed was Lord Manderly's solar, the servant knocked twice before opening the door and ushering them into the room. When they walked in, Edric felt his eyes go wide. Sitting in a chair behind an ornate desk built from ironwood and inlaid with mother-of-pearl with mermaids and seaweed carved all about it, was the fattest man Edric had ever seen. The man must weigh at least thirty-five stone.
In a booming voice, the fat man said, "Ah! Lord Seaworth, Ser Andrew, Young Edric. Please forgive my tardiness in granting you an audience. But in these troubled time, matters of state and war must take precedence. I trust you have been well treated in my absence, however?"
Matters of state? Wasn't that why they were in the North to begin with? If matters of state must take precedence, shouldn't they have been graced with an audience much sooner than this? Edric glanced at Ser Davos and saw something flash in his eyes for a brief moment before the Onion Knight responded.
Ser Davos replied to the Lord of White Harbor, "Lord Manderly. It is a great pleasure to make your acquittance at last. We wanted for nothing during our wait, M'lord. I am glad that we can finally meet and discuss the proposal I have brought north with me from my King to return the North to the King's Peace. I know that you owe you fealty to House Stark and that you, as an honorable man, would never bend the knee to any other without their approval, but I hope that I may be able to persuade you to lend your voice in support to sway the King in the North."
"Lord Seaworth, I thank you for your consideration, but please allow me to elaborate on why what you ask is not possible. When my House was forced from the Reach over a thousand years ago, we were friendless and in great peril of losing everything, including our lives. However, House Stark took us in, sheltered us, welcomed us as one of their own, granted us rich lands to rule over and the authority to build this city. We have been Stark Men ever since. I could no more counsel King Jon to bend the knee than you could counsel Stannis to bend his.
"House Manderly supports House Stark, now and always. If and only if my Liege bends the knee, will we bend the knee."
"My Lord, I respect that position. I am a Stormlord myself. By rights, I should have supported Lord Renly when he raised his banners against King Stannis. But I could not betray the man who raised me from the gutter and I kept faith with King Stannis. I keep faith with him even now, when many would counsel me to abandon him. But I must still ask. Stannis is the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms. Why raise your banners against him? He has demanded naught of the North beyond the fealty which is owed to him as King. Why deny him that?"
"Ser Davos, we deny him fealty for one reason. The North fought off Andal invasions and attacks from the south for thousands of years. It was only the arrival of the Targayens that changed that. It was the Dragons that we bowed to. It was Lord Eddard's friendship with King Robert that kept us within the Realm these last fourteen years. But the dragons are gone. Lord Stark is gone. King Robert is gone. The North has a long memory, My Lord. And we remember when a King sat on the Throne of Winter. We would have that again. The North knows but one King, the King in the North. And he is in Winterfell, not a thousand leagues away trapped on Dragonstone."
Ser Davos had just opened his mouth to respond when there was a hurried knock on the door and when Lord Manderly called for whoever it was to enter, Edric saw it was the maester and the man had a smug look upon his face. The maester said, "My Lord, a raven has just arrived from King's Landing, from the Lord Hand."
Saying that, he held the scroll out for the fat man who grasped it with fingers that were fatter than any of the sausages Edric had ever eaten. Lord Manderly told the man, "Thank you, Maester Theomore."
Once the man had withdrawn, Lord Manderly let a scowl cross his florid face. "That man forgets himself too often. Did you notice the look on his face and how he referred to Tywin Lannister?"
Ser Davos shook his head, but Edric spoke up. "He looked smug, My Lord. Like he knew some great secret that no one else was privy to. He seemed to sound almost reverential towards Lord Lannister as well."
Lord Manderly's eye brows raised a bit at Edric's statement and he told him, "You're quite perceptive. Keep that quality. It will serve you in good stead in the years to come. Yes, the man was smug. Maester Theomore was born Theomore Lannister of Lannisport. When he became a Maester, he should have put aside his loyalty to House Lannister, yet I often doubt that he has. Too often he seems to forget that he serves House Manderly and not Tywin Lannister.
"But enough about my maester. If you all will excuse me for a moment, I wish to see what Tywin bloody Lannister has to say. The man is holding my only remaining son hostage and I do fear for his safety."
While Lord Manderly began to read, Ser Andrew asked, "Forgive me for the interruption My Lord. But if your son is being held hostage, why have you not struck the Stark's banners to ensure his survival?"
The look of anger that flashed across Lord Manderly's face was a terrifying thing to see. In that moment, Edric could easily imagine the man weighing some twenty stone lighter and on a battlefield. He would be a very hard man. Ser Andrew and Ser Davos recognized it as well and both seemed almost to shrink back in their chairs.
When he spoke, Lord Manderly's voice was as hard as iron. "I'll forgive that comment this once, and no more, Ser. I imagine it was made it ignorance and will do my best not to hold you in less esteem due to it. One of my sons was killed beside his King at the Red Wedding. The Freys may have been the ones to wield the blade that ended my son's life, but it was Tywin Lannister that killed him. For as long as there is breath in my body, I will never bend the knee to a Lannister. Nor will any other true Northman.
"My King has not struck his banners, Ser. We have suffered a temporary reversal of our fortunes, nothing more. The North will never submit to men such as that. Tywin can threaten all he likes. But my House is sworn to House Stark, and we will follow our King unto death if needs be. Until my Liege informs me differently, House Manderly will continue the fight with every ounce of power that we have, Ser. And the Lannisters will soon learn that the North remembers.
"I love my sons, Ser. I would give nearly any price to see my remaining son returned to me. But I will not bow my neck to his brother's killers."
Ser Andrew nodded his head and apologized for asking the question, and in a flash, the hard old bastard that had appeared was gone and the amiable fat man returned. Edric had just learned a valuable lesson. Lord Manderly may appear to be a soft, fat, craven. But the man had a core of Valyrian Steel buried within him. He also learned that sometimes it was helpful to let others think you to be less than you are in order to control the situation and turn it to your favor.
"Ser Davos, you sailed here under the banner of House Baratheon, did you not," asked Lord Manderly.
"I did, Lord Wyman."
"Then I must apologize for being the one to inform you Ser, but I fear I must impart some terrible news. The raven from King's Landing was announcing the death of Stannis Baratheon. He was executed for treason in the courtyard of his castle after it fell following a siege led by Ser Loras Tyrell. If you wish, I will have Ser Bartimus return you to your vessel so that you may lower your King's banner personally."
"NO!" Ser Davos shouted in pained agony.
"I am sorry Ser, but it would appear that your cause is ended."
Ser Davos looked shattered by the news. He knew that the Onion Knight loved his uncle as much as any man may love another, and this must be a terrible thing to hear. Edric knew he too should be saddened, but his uncle had wanted to burn him alive to the Red God, so that tempered his feelings somewhat.
Though he had been told to listen more than he spoke, Edric thought that now was the time to add his voice to the conversation. He said, "No, My Lord. His cause is not finished. What about me?"
"You," asked Lord Manderly?
"Aye, me. I am the son of Robert Baratheon and Delena Florent. I was acknowledged by the King and raised in his ancestral home of Storm's End. I will carry on the fight to throw the Lannister out of the Red Keep and see that House Baratheon is returned to our rightful place as ruler of the Seven Kingdoms."
Ser Davos gave him a sad smile and said, "Lad, you have courage in abundance. You have the right breeding and you are clearly your father's son in looks and demeanor. You even have a good story to rally the smallfolk to you. But you don't have the Baratheon name. And many Lords will refuse to bend the knee to a bastard."
Lord Wyman had taken on a calculating look while he and Ser Davos spoke. And when he spoke, his voice held a hint of something that he couldn't quite put his finger on. He said, "What is a name? King Jon did not have the Stark name all that long ago. But he has Eddard's blood running through his veins. And that is enough for many, indeed it is enough for most in the North. This boy has the blood of Robert Baratheon in him. Why should that matter less for him than it has for my own King?
"What has happened once can happen again. And the boy may not lack the support you imagine he will Ser. I am no Spider, as I have heard Lord Varys called. But I do have certain contacts throughout the Realm and even in the Free Cities. Your cause may not be as hopeless as you believe it to be, Ser.
"I will ready my household and prepare an escort, Lord Seaworth. I believe we all have need to see the King in Winterfell."
"What use could I possibly have now, Lord Manderly," asked Ser Davos. "I'm the Hand of the King to a King who is now dead. My son may very well have joined his brothers in death when Dragonstone fell as he was squire to King Stannis. What more can I do here?"
Edric again spoke before anyone else could respond and he said, "I need your counsel, Ser Davos. If I am to follow my Father and my Uncle, I will need your voice to guide me. You saved me when my uncle wished to offer me to R'hllor. You saved me again when you found the ship I was on sinking from a storm. Please, Ser. Please offer me the same counsel you gave my uncle."
"The boy speaks with a wisdom beyond his years, Lord Seaworth. You may not see your own value, but those around you do. And as you say, your King may have gone to meet the Stranger, but you are still his Hand. Your voice will be needed when we meet with my King."
Davos tried to reply, his mouth opened and closed several times before he shut it and nodded his head. Edric placed his hand atop the old knight's while it rested on his knee and told him, "Thank you Ser. I know you desire nothing more than to return to your home, to your wife and children. Devan often told both the Princess and myself how much you missed your home during our lessons with the Maester."
The mention of his son seemed to break whatever control Ser Davos still had over himself for he began to softly cry, most likely consumed with fear that he had lost another son to the war. Before another word could be said, another knock sounded at the door. When it opened, the maester was there again with yet another raven scroll in his hands.
"Forgive me, My Lord. But another raven from King's Landing."
Lord Wyman nodded, took the message and began to read. His right eyebrow quirked up as he read and he eyed Ser Davos with something akin to sympathy. When the fat Lord spoke, his voice was soft as he said, "I too have lost loved ones in this war, Ser Davos. It is no easy thing to outlive a son. But all is not lost. This scroll is meant for you. It seems someone on Dragonstone informed the Lannisters what your mission was after the castle fell."
The Lord of White Harbor handed over the message and Edric watched as Ser Davos slowly read the message. Edric had to remind himself that, until recently, Ser Davos could not even read his own name and that even a message as short as that found on a raven scroll could still be daunting for the aged smuggler.
But when the Onion Knight looked up, there were tears in his eyes and he looked up at the ceiling and muttered a quick prayer to the Mother. "Thank you, Lord Manderly. My son lives. He is grievously wounded, but he lives. Tywin Lannister orders me to bend the knee and he will spare my son, confirm my Lordship, and allow me to take the Black."
Davos handed the message back to Wyman. "Lord Manderly, I will accompany to Winterfell with Lord Edric. But unless you and your King can offer me an ironclad way to see this war ended and my family made whole again, I will have no choice but to bend the knee to spare my son's life."
"Ser Davos, I believe once you hear what my idea is, you will enthusiastically give us your support."
"What could that possibly be, My Lord?"
"Fire and Blood."