Author Notes: The biggest chapter so far; it went through multiple iterations before reaching this one. And I was like, that is enough; if I keep on changing something, I will never publish it. So finally pushing the publish button on this one. Cheers!

Chapter 5

Ned

The Northern War Council - sometime after the Stoney Sept.

"My Lords, it seems that the Madder Prince has joined the Royal army and they are on the move; we will likely meet them in a couple of weeks. Our spies report that the Dornish have mustered forces and are going to join the Royal Army soon. There are also reports that the remains of the Royal army, those that fled at Stoney Sept and those we were unable to capture later, are regrouping under someone's leadership. This means that there is a chance that they will have more numbers than us. A part of the Westerlands army is standing at the Golden tooth; we do not know the numbers, just that they are there. Lord Lannister has not responded to any of our ravens. As such, we do not know whether he will turn on us." He pointed to the map then, before continuing, "We will fall back here, at the crossing. We will prepare the ground and then let them come at us. This will give us the chance to tackle even the Lannister army, if necessary. I will share more details once we reach the place."

"Why not press the advantage before they have a chance at regrouping, my Lord? We could smash them and be in King's Landing sooner."

There were multiple shouts in agreement. He banged on the table to quieten his Lords down. "A couple of things My Lords. The Stormlands army has seen more battles than us; despite their boasts, they are exhausted. If we march now towards the enemy, they will be useless for us when the battle comes. With the chance that enemy numbers are more than ours, it is an unnecessary risk." He moved the lion figurines on the map to give his lords a better view. "One army is standing at Golden tooth, as I said earlier. We know definitely that it is not the complete Westerlands army. This means, there is a chance that another Westerlands army could creep up from the Gold Road if the lion finally rouses himself. My Lords, if we overextend now and Tywin Lannister chooses his old, mad friend, we would be facing an attack from three sides. If a coordinated attack happens, that is something we cannot afford, especially if we do not have the number advantage. If, however, we choose the ground, prepare it beforehand, and let them come at us, we can make sure that their number advantage is nullified. This offers us the best chance for victory."

"What if they do not come, Lord Stark? Can we afford to waste the time?"

"They will come, my Lords. The Madder Prince will need to prove himself now. If he does not attack, the soldiers and even his lords will think him craven and lose morale. He will have to attack."

The questions and discussion continued for some time before the lords were satisfied. He gathered his thoughts before addressing his bannermen again. "One last thing, My Lords, I have already discussed this with Lords Arryn, Baratheon, and Tully; I want the Madder Prince alive. If any of you come across him on the battlefield, I want you to take every effort to capture him alive. It goes without saying that this is just one of our goals; our strategies and formations will not change only to try and capture the Madder Prince. However, in the course of the battle, if you have a chance, capture him. I do not care if he loses his arms or legs; he should be alive, should survive for a couple of days, and he should be able to talk, and I will be the first man to talk with him. Any lord who brings the Madder Prince to me in the condition I described, I will grant two boons, one for the man or men who capture him and one for the lord; this I swear as the Lord of Winterfell. That is all. You all can go back to your men. Lord Reed, a word."

I will wring Lya's location out of him if I need to, he thought. Lord Connington's escape meant that he had lost the chance to question him. They had had some skirmishes after the battle at the Stoney Sept, of course, but the men captured did not have any idea about the whereabouts of the Madder Prince, let alone his sister. If he could get the Madder Prince alive though, he would get to Lya sooner; he could not afford to lose any more of his family.

It was only when Howland cleared his throat that he remembered he had asked him to wait.

"Done brooding," Howland asked, and he could not help but smile. "Thank you for that, Howland. Smiles are rare these days."

"Indeed, you have a task for me."

He smiled again at Howland's perception. "I have two in mind. The first one is easier. Lord Bolton has the best scouts as far as the Northern army is concerned, but they are nowhere near as good as those of Lord Tully's. I do not want to depend on them entirely in the future. I have already spoken with Ser Brynden; I will give you three of my men, you will lead them and two of your men and shadow Ser Brynden, learn all about scouting that you can. I understand that you already have some experience doing so in The Neck," he paused, seeing Howland's nod, he continued, "this would be a good chance to get more experience in the Riverlands, perhaps more regions based on how this war goes. What do you say?"

"It will be done, Ned."

"Good. Do you or any of your men have any experience catching lizard lions?"

"Sure we do, you want us to catch a dragon for you?"

"I really want him alive, Howland, and you are one of the very few I trust. I dearly hope that I give those boons to you and your men. I will keep 15 of your men free, and I will give you 15 of my own men; they will not be part of any specific troops or strategy, your only objective in any battle we have with the Madder Prince will be his capture. Do you think you can do it?"

"I will make sure it happens, Ned. I will bring him to you alive, I promise."

"Thank you, Howland. Now, tell me, how do you do it, capture a lizard lion?"

"Well, Ned, you would have to become a crannogman to know the secret."

He laughed at that, a genuine laugh for the first time in many months. He was about to speak when Howland beat him.

"Listen, Ned, have you given thought to what I suggested a few days back?"

All his humor fled then, and the rage came upon him so swiftly; if it was not Howland, he would have strangled him with his bare hands, he thought. The look he gave was enough though, for he saw Howland flinch and back up at that. He was beginning to understand the wolfsblood his father talked about. With an effort of will, he took control of his rage. He poured some wine for Howland and some ale for himself to stop from shouting and to try and calm down. Still, he could continue only through clenched teeth, "She is 15, Howland, by the Old Gods, just 15. Look, we do not know the situation; no one knows. Bran believed that she was taken, so did my father. I tend to believe that too. Bran and my father knew Lya much better than either me or you, and if they think she was taken, I believe them." He held his hand up to stop an argument from Howland.

"We do not know why she went somewhere without her guards, especially at a place which she has not known for too long. I know you think that there is no one in this world more fierce than Lya, and she would not go without a fight if she was taken. But do you think it would even be a fight? How long do you think a 15-year-old girl would last against the Madder Prince? What about the kingsguard with him? What about all of them together and the rest of their posse? That is not enough time for anyone to notice any suspicious activity. And, I also thought about the other possibility you suggested. If she indeed went willingly with the Madder Prince, he is a grown man, who has been learning and playing politics all his life; do you think that he could not have manipulated her into going willingly? Lya always sees the goodness in people, my friend; she has always been fierce and kind, you know this, but we both know the world is not a kind place. We do not know what story the Madder Prince told her, if any, that caused her to go with him. Honestly, it does not matter whether she went willingly or not; she would not stay with him once she heard about my father and Bran unless she has not heard about them or the Madder Prince is holding her prisoner. Once we capture the Madder Prince alive, we will find Lya, then we will know the truth."

"I do not wish to discuss this again, Howland; it pains and distracts me too much, and we have a war to win. You have your tasks, and I am counting on you. Meet with Ser Brynden now or early tomorrow morning to discuss the details of the scout; my men will find you tomorrow morning. Good night, Howland."

He forcefully turned his mind away from any thoughts about Lya and instead turned it once more towards spies and scouts. He marveled again at the information about the Madder Prince brought in by Jon's spies. Again and again, Jon or Lord Tully's spies and scouts had brought important information for their army; information and forewarnings that would change their strategy or tactics. Every time it happened, he would rue the lack of an information network of his own; something he never thought he would need, another thing that Jon had failed to teach him; was it neglect with the thought that a second son would not need an information network? He did not know; he would ask Robert whether he was taught about this to get a better idea. He wondered if his father had a network of his own and if he could make use of it. It did not matter though; if his father did not have one, he would just build one for himself, people utterly loyal to him, reporting only to him, mayhaps to Benjen, not that he had any idea how to build one, but he would gain the knowledge.

The more he thought about it, the more he could see the benefits; not just during the war, even during peace. If he could send a discreet Raven to Ben, but he discarded the thought as soon as it came. At least two maesters would read the scroll, how could it be discreet then. He would talk with Ben as soon as he reached Winterfell.

But thoughts of creating his own information network led him once again to information networks existing already. Did Jon have spies in The North, in Winterfell even? What about the Mad King? What about Lord Tully? What about the other paramount lords, the other lords in the kingdoms? Did they have spies in their camp now? Was information going to the Royal Army even now? He would discuss with Jon about enemy spies in their camp in the morning, he thought. Mayhaps, Jon and Lord Tully had already thought about this and were taking care of it. Still, he would discuss it with Jon for the peace of his own mind. As for the spies in the North, he would root them out. Just another thing he had to learn to rule The North, but he would learn. If he was going to do something, he would commit to it and do it properly, not with half measures.

He would build a network that was better than Jon's, he thought; a network that extended throughout The North, the seven kingdoms, even across the Narrow Sea, if necessary; a network that would let him know the moves of all the major and minor political players; a tool that would help him discover and forever destroy all the enemies of the Starks and The North. And he would also root out all the spies working for others in The North; give them the Northern justice to make an example. Mayhaps, he would even identify some of them, keep them alive, and ensure that they did not get adequate information or that they got false information to send to their masters. His honor-bound mind cringed at the thought, was it honorable to spread false information? The pragmatic mind intervened again though; what was more important, lying to a few spies or the welfare of his family, his vassals, and his smallfolk? If lying kept his family and his people safer, he would do it. He cursed himself then for taking a vow that he would be honorable in peace; mayhaps he was naive still. How many family members will die before you learn, his pragmatic mind whispered. No; he could not be honorable with everyone. He would take the measure of a man or a woman, test them, before deciding if they deserved his honor.

He would change his attitude. No longer would his honor be given freely; it would have to be earned. He would be aggressive against the hostile, disrespectful against the impolite, devious against the cunning, and merciless against the cruel.