Note: Before you read this chapter, there is a flashback I wrote into Ch 4, that's kind of important to this chapter (at least for the Dany portion).
Flashback
He woke up in a dungeon cell with a great hangover. What happened last night? He became aware of the chains that bound him to the wall of his dank cell.
I'm at the Twins, he realized as the jailor passed him by. The man had the livery of house Frey sewn onto his tabard. The weasel faced man stopped to spit at him.
What the fuck happened last night? He saw another prisoner in the cell across from him. The man could be none other than Edmure Tully, who was looking right at him with a look of confusion. "They tell me the party died after I left".
"What are we doing in a dungeon?" He asked.
"Walder Frey broke guest right and killed my sister and her son. We've been betrayed."
These chains would not hold him forever. His sigil was a giant breaking the chains that bound him.
Daenerys
The snow was up to her ankles in the throne room.
Despite being an eyesore, the Iron Throne held a strange appeal. Part of the roof for the throne room had collapsed. A few stained glass windows were shattered here and there. She wanted to see it one more time before marching south to war.
Last night's storm had collapsed part of the roof which landed on the jagged, misshapen Iron Throne. Half a dozen blades halfway up the steps to the throne of swords had been dislodged by the piece of fallen roof.
Dany looked closer. The blades of the Iron Throne were forged in dragonfire, but these ones must have been loose. She looked curiously into the small chasm, that seemed to have formed because of the fallen roof piece.
But there was something in there that drew her eye. A Longsword unlike the rest was planted in the tangle of steel as if it there for her to see. Its golden pommel was old and somewhat distorted.
She could not say what compelled her to reach into the chasm and grab the sword by the hilt. She tugged at the hilt and felt the sword slowly but surely leave its iron prison. Despite its distorted pommel, something about the sword felt right to her.
Dany heard Ser Barristan gasp a moment after the sword was lifted into the air.
"Gods, it cannot be." Dany looked at her Lord Commander not understanding the surprise.
"What is it?" Dany asked.
"It's Darksister." He began to laugh, "So that's where Bloodraven hid it."
Viserys had told her the tales of house Targaryen's Valyrian blades. Darksister was the blade once wielded by Visenya during Aegon's war of Conquest. The blade had been bequeathed she knew to a bastard of Aegon IV known as Bloodraven. When King Maekar inherited the throne, the blade had disapeared.
"Why did he hide his family sword?" The dust that came off the blade told her that the blade had been undisturbed for a long time.
"When Maekar Targaryen inherited the Iron Throne, he ordered the imprisonment of his Barstard uncle, Brynden Rivers. Aegon IV gave one of his bastard sons the blade rather than his trueborn son Daeron, because he believed that Daeron had been fathered by Aemon the Dragonknight who was brother to queen Naerys. "
Dany did not fail to notice Ser Barristan's pained attempts at keeping a straight face.
Aemon the Dragonknight reminds me of somone I know. She could almost hear Tyrion chortle as he chewed at the parallels within his own blood.
"Maekar demanded to know where Darksister was, Bloodraven as they called him gave only cryptic riddles and double tongue."
"What happened then?" Dany had to ask, she had long since realized that Viserys did not know everything about their family history.
"For his lack of cooperation, Brynden Rivers was thrown into a Black Cell where he lived until Maekar's death at Starpike. When the great council was called, he was released and allowed to participate in the council that chose your grandfather Aegon V. He was allowed to join the Night's Watch as part of an honor guard for Aegon's brother, Aemon who was a chained maester. The High Septon offered to absolve Aemon of his vows, but instead joined the watch so that he could not be used against his younger brother.
"We should go now, your grace, your army will be waiting near Baelor's Sept."
Dany left the throne room with Dark Sister in hand and Ser Barristan in tow.
"What happened to Bloodraven?"
"Whatever could be said about Brynden Rivers, he was an effective leader of men, he was elected Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, only to disappear in the lands beyond the wall a mere fortnight after his election."
The rest of the journey to Baelor's Sept was ruled by silence. Dany saw the city of King's Landing and all its denizens who saw her off
When she reached the Great Sept, the warhorns blew and soldiers cheered at her in a dozen different tongues.
She walked up to the pulpit that the High Septon normally preached from. The voices died down quickly for the most part. She spoke to the crowds and heard her voice ring across Visenya's hill.
"A new dawn has come to Westeros. With it comes a power beyond our reckoning that even Aegon the Conquerer did not have, with its own victory at hand!
Cheers erupted from the plaza. She continued only as they subsided.
"In Volantis they called me Azor Ahai the savior of our lands, and that is what I am. I am Daenerys Stormborn Targaryen, the unburnt, the Mother of Dragons, the Breaker chains, and Queen of Westeros"
"This day, we shall stain the land with the blood of the false, and when you are done nobody will ever call you a usurper. Today, we march south to bring fire and blood on the Reach and all the lords who can dare to call themselves loyalists.
"Our foe is as numerous as the desert sands, but they weak and corrupt. Our enemy call themselves dragons but they are not, for I am the only Dragon."
The crowd cheered once more, as the cry "Slayer of lies" was taken up and the warhorns were sounded again.
There would be no spring for the Reach.
Arya
Arya felt strangely calm as the arrows wizzed by. Commands were ringing out in the common tongue, and high Valyrian.
The shouting from the trees grew louder, "Warrior, Warrior," they cried.
Arya's First instinct was that this was the Brotherhood without Banners, but as the figures came closer, she decided that they did not sound like the brotherhood.
The enemy wore long coats of dark wool that seemed to be suspended from a pair of crossed chains that each soldier wore. They were now charging down the wooded hill to the column's right.
Sparrows, Arya realized. She knew back in King's Landing that the Faith was not on terms with Daenerys Targaryen. She recalled hearing a begging brother preach that she had brought doom to the Seven Kingdoms by bringing an army of outlander heritics to secure her ungodly rule. She had only heard it only once, from that man in the streets of Flea Bottom, for the next day he had disappeared. Into a bowl of Brown, one local remarked. Arya knew better than to ask what kind of meat went into those bowls.
She was separated from her company because Lord Tyrion wanted to know things stood in the Riverlands. But at least this was the safest place to be, Arya realized.
Lord Lannister's Bodyguard formed a thin line of halberds at the shallow ditch by the side of the road. Behind them, a few men with Bastard swords took up position on the road behind the ditch.
The enemy leveled their spears as they approached; the arrows were no longer flying now, for fear of friendly fire.
The Golden men made short work of the attack, with bastard blades breaking up the formation, followed through with the halberds.
The surviving enemy, retreated up the hill, but many slipped on the bloodied snow or were felled by Targaryen arrows.
The Imp turned towards Hoster Blackwood. "Hoster, get to safety"
He pointed towards her, "Lady Rivers, we have enemy archers on that hill, tell Ser Tumco to take that hill."
Arya turned her horse, and rode down the column and around the bend in the road. The corspes of many who wore the Stokeworth tabard where in the mud writhing in pain, the survivors packed into a defensive ring on that saddled the road. Clearly they had been attacked from most sides.
"Where's Ser Tumco?" she called out to the group. Their leader, a slim man with a hungry look recognized the Basilisk sigil she wore.
"He's chasing that Brune whoreson, we've been betrayed."
"Lord Tyrion wants him to take that hill," she pointed up at the enemy.
"Find him if you can, I'll send a runner to tell him," the lord of Stokeworth calmly drawled despite everything.
Past the defensive ring, she saw dead men who had fought for the Brunes, and a few who wore the basilisk sigil. The tracks suggested that they had climbed the hill.
Arya spurred her horse up the hill. The mare jumped over the roadside ditch and past a body. The horse followed the tracks up the hill.
She was conscious of the Brune men who had fallen only to be trampled underfoot. The song of steel was getting even louder. Arya looked to her left, and saw the Stokeworth men still ringed across the road. It looks like we've already charged the hill. A few wild arrows flew in her direction; they had charged the wrong hill, of course.
"Where is the Ser?" Arya asked when she had caught up with the force, everyone in the company called Tumco Lho, the ser, which for some reason reminded her of the Mountain that Rides and his men.
"The ser is dead, that turncloak Brune did him in, but we got right here." He gestured towards a man in armor who had been slung across the back of a horse. "Ser Bennard and his boys ran all right, but they weren't fast enough."
"Who commands then?"
"I do," the voice belonged to the oldest of the sergeants, a red bearded Tyroshi.
"Lord Tyrion wants us up the hill."
The Tyroshi laughed, "aren't we just the best, he means the archers in that direction right?"
The Archers on the hill where already running by the time their charge began, but got no more than five hundred feet west of the hill before they beat down the men in thick brown roughspun wool.
Needle, which she still carried, quickly became red with the blood of Sparrows.
A few managed to live long enough to yield, and would be questioned soon no doubt.
Arya wasn't she what the Imp did to prisoners, but she had a feeling that there was another Tickler, around here somewhere. Where the mountian that rides and his men were cruel and stupid, these men were cunning.
He was still her goodbrother, which made her feel more and more uneasy. Many often said that he still lived under the shadow of his family, but he was the most dangerous of them all, it took one look at him in battle to see that there was more cruelty in him than all the Lannisters she remembered, his demeanor almost reminded her of the Hound.
She had to be carefull whenever she was near him. The possibility made the hair rise behind her neck.
Arya knew that Sansa was still out there with a bounty on her head, the Imp was looking for her but he had made it clear that he wanted her alive.
"Ride out to the halfman, and tell him we got them, tell em about Brune too will you, I don't think he's gonna survive the ride to Stoney Sept."
The Halfman was at the top of the hill with twenty of his bodyguards and the lord of Stokeworth.
The men turned their gaze to face her as she rode into view.
"We got Brune, my lord."
Tyrion Lannister gave the barest of nods. "Offer my thanks to Ser Tumco."
"Ser Tumco is dead," Arya kind of missed the calm but deadly knight from the Basilisk Isles already.
Five horsemen came up before anyone could respond, their leader wore a doublet over his coat of mail the showed golden stars on a white field. "We've been attacked by sparrows on the way here."
"You don't fucking say, we got betrayed by the Brunes of Cracklaw Point, where in seven hells where you."
"Why?"
"Wouldn't I have told you if I knew why, we just got attacked by Faith Militant, and for all we know, the next enemy is still hiding in our ranks."
"My Lord, do sparrows carry Valyrian blades?" The voice belonged to a man from Flea Bottom.
Her attention was drawn to a comely man who had seen no more than forty namedays. A longbow arrow had taken him through the right cheek, and his body was sprawled on the ground his eyes wide open as if he still could not believe that death would come for him.
"I know this man," Lord Tyrion declared. "I saw him when I was being tried at the Vale. His name is Lyn Corbray, and this blade is known as Lady Forlorn."
Davos
The blizzard would not last much longer. It was the hour of the wolf, which Davos found fitting. The current on the Blue Fork was thankfully gentle. He guided his boat across the River a mere two hundred yards upstream from the Crossing.
This was his second and last trip across the frigid river before leading a dozen men through a privy shaft on the north side of the West Keep. He had a dangerous mission to complete; he would have to reach the dungeons and break the prisoners out before they were executed. The siege from the west had broken off after the Freys captured Ser Patrek Mallister by stealth. From the East, the Umbers and Lockes had not participated in the assualt on the East Keep for fear of their inprisoned kin.
Jon Targaryen, had attempted to use a dying Edwyn Frey to yield the castle which was held by his half-brother, another weasel named Walder, but known as Black Walder. Edwyn agreed to yield the castle he had recently inherited, but only to spite his brother who had arranged at least one if not more assasination attempts on Edwyn.
It seemed that gross dishonor was more than just a family trait. Only hours before, Edwyn Frey had been taken to the Water Tower which was halfway across the bridge by a wagon. The wagon was driven by a prisoner taken during the battle. He had yielded the Water Tower, but afterwards had been mistakenly shot before crossing the bridge for supposedly being an enemy. Most of the Freys in the Tower including Robb Stark's former squire Olyvar Frey were shown mercy. Some men however, such as Walder Rivers who had put Robb's Starks army to the sword, were forced to take the Black.
The assault on the East Keep would happen in a few hours at the break of dawn. Hopefully by then, the storm would pass. For now, it was difficult to see more than twenty-five feet ahead.
He had some of the best to ever serve Stannis Baratheon behind him. Prince Jon had lent him Asha Greyjoy and one of her friends, Qarl the Maid. Davos had already taken a likng to Asha, but Qarl was annoying, much like the rest of her cronies save Tristofer Botley. He was greatful for both of them though, because nobody could scale a castle wall like an Ironborn. They were already waiting on the other side of the river.
At the prow of the boat sat Ser Martyn Snow, a bastard of Oldcastle and a master of steatlh whom Davos had knighted himself for his help in finding Rickon Stark on Skagos. Davos still shivered at the thought of that unholy place, and not just because of the cold. A marksman from the Kingswood was with the party. He also had a Crannogman guide lent to him from the Blackmyres who had actually spent a few nights in Lord Frey's dungeon. Also in the boat sat a man at arms sent to him by Lord Wyman. Raymund was his name. The young man was a skilled mummer from White Harbor.
They crept up to the walls without incident careful not to work up a sweat in this cold. Qarl threw his line. The hook at its end caught the privy. The agile reaver climbed the shaft quickly and gave the line a shake when he reached the top. Asha went next, then the Crannogmen. Raymund who was built like a monkey came afterwards, and was up quicker than anyone else. Ser Martyn was a slower climber partly because of his heavy mail beneath his thick furs and leather jerkin.
Davos, who was the last, was hoisted up as he had some difficulty climbing without the fingertips of his left hand. He felt a sense of triumph; they had all climbed the privy shaft rather quickly. We have caught the Freys with their breeches down.
It was then that he noticed a dead Frey placed against the wall. Well, at least the garrison hasn't been alerted yet. His was stripped of surcoat, which the Crannogman was now wearing.
As soon as his left foot emerged from the privy, Ser Martyn picked up the dead Frey and dumped him into the shaft. Raymund claimed the crossbow that had been left on the privy, and was currently stringing the weapon
The Crannogman knew the place better than any of them so he led the way. They descended a staircase, and before he knew it, they were in a yard.
"They call this place the Bastard Barracks," the guide made a sweeping motion with his hand to indicate the surrounding yard and all of its surrounding buildings.
"There's the entrance to the dungeon." Davos could make out a small tower that jutted inwards from the wall and a jail with a subterrainean cellar. Bales of hay were stacked before all the windows in the dungeon. Possibly because Black Walder did not want the hostages to die without cause, Davos reasoned.
A gate to the yard opened and two men passed through. Davos and his team were hiding under a wagon laden with hay and were as of yet unnoticed.
The two guards went straight for the dungeon. A bellowing voice called from behind the doors demanding firewood. The two guards began moving in the direction of the wagon.
Instinctively, Davos looked to his left and then his right.
Damn, this would not be good. The guards were walking towards a stack of split wood not an arm's reach from where Qarl was hiding. Qarl noticed too and motioned to Asha, then gave an annoyed look at the mudman. The Blackmyre retainer stepped out into plain sight looking like a man who had been given the unpleasant task of splitting the wood.
"You there," one of the Frey sergeants called out, "The jailor wants more firewood, help us bring an armload in."
He turned towards the pile to comply, when Asha threw her "husband" at the nearest of the two. The throwing ax lodged in his throat before he could even scream in surprise. The Crannogman turned and stuck a dagger in the throat of the other in one fluid motion.
The snow which was nearly a foot deep in the yard hungrily absorbed the blood of Freys.
Raymund quickly claimed a Frey surcoat and took care to keep the blood from soaking it as he removed it. Qarl studied the motion before removing the other coat in similar fashion.
Davos gestured towards Qarl and Raymund. "You heard the man, the jailor needs more firewood," He commanded in his captain's voice.
Qarl was the first to respond and carefully loaded an armful of wood. Raymund came next. The crannogman led the way to the dungeon entrance.
The gate to the yard of the Bastard's Barracks opened. Davos thought he saw six Frey men. Shit, this is going to be closer than Skagos.
"We have firewood," Raymund spoke in a voice similar to that of one of the dead Freys in the yard.
The door opened and they entered, the tower entrance was agreeably warmer. Before the door could fully shut came the cry of "halt!"
The two guardsmen who stood within spitting distance heard the word and immediately knew something was up. "Drop your weapons!" They called.
Qarl hurled his firewood at the guard closest to him. The man jumped backwards and tripped on a step of the stairwell. Davos drew his own longsword and charged the other man. The man had enough time to block his cut. His oppenent moved in for a thrust which the Onion lord dodged and seized the moment to bring the blade down on the man's right arm.
His longsword struck true and severed the guard's sword arm. Davos bashed the man in the face with his shield and thrust his sword into the man's chest finishing him.
"They've come for the hostages." A voice from the dungeon cried. Raymund barred the entrence and aimed his crossbow through the small peep window and fired. His shot was answered with a painfull grunt.
The Onion Lord turned to descend the stairwell and follow his companions.
He heard the banging on the dungeon entrance which was now barred. Shouts came from below from others, friend or foe he could not yet tell. The sound of steel on steel was ringing throughout the dungeon.
It was warmer down here, Davos realized. Moments later, shrieks that could only come from someone burning alive gruesomely echoed from the bottom of the stairwell. He could smell the burned flesh and pitch just before reaching the dungeon antechamber.
Asha had evidently thrown a pitch flask into the hearth. Four men dead or dying were on the stone floor.
Ser Martyn threw his weight into the door that led to the cells. The door shuddered but still held firm. A scream came from beyond.
No, Davos thought. Please don't let the prisoners die when we get this close.
Another scream came from a different voice as Martyn picked up a partially singed bench and broke through the door.
The carnage in here was almost as sickening as the antechamber. The first thing Davos saw was a man whose coat indicated his status as jailer lying against a cell wall. His head looked as if it had been smashed in by a large boulder. So great must have been the impact, that the walls themselves had been splattered with his blood. A closer look at the jailer and Davos noticed a shealth missing its sword.
Some of the cell doors looked as if they had been smashed open at the locks, others were simply left open. Davos felt his eyes drawn to a cell in which part of the wall had recently collapsed.
The prisoners were missing; there was only one way they could have been taken. A heavy wooden door at the end the dungeon was left open. He looked at the Crannogman for an explanation.
"Where does it lead?" Davos asked.
"To the river," was the man's reply.
The Crannogman took the point and was the first one through the door.
The passage was dark, but before long they caught up with the noise. The noise led them to a room with lit by a single torch, and the floor marked by the blue towers of Frey. Davos saw several people, but the first one to grab his attention was a brute of a man who held a broken manacle in one arm, and a short chain with a large piece of stone attached to it.
Raymund nervously held his crossbow at the man, while Asha let her hand drift to her dirk.
"Friend or Frey?" the giant called.
Davos answered in the lordliest voice he could muster, "We serve Stannis Baratheon, the one True King."
Much to the surprise of Davos, the man laughed, it was not the bellowing sound that it could have been if the man was healthier, "The North knows but one King and his name is Stark."
"Which way is out?" one of them asked.
The guide indicated the passage to the left and led the way.
They all jogged down the passageway, as the shouts from behind were getting louder.
Suddenly they came up to a wooden door. Behind it was a stairwell.
"Where are we?" One of the prisoners asked.
"The River Gatehouse"
Davos shuddered; the battle had only just begun.
Well, I hope that the extra long chapter makes up for the extra long wait. Special thanks to Reikson whose Dark Sister Theory was just an absolute joy to put into writing.
Next up: Asha, Jon, Melisandre and Bran.