The Catspaw Succeeded – Chapter 1

- The Catspaw -

The hired man was getting impatient. He had tried to wait as asked but those damn beasts scared him. The hooded man who gave him the bag of silver had be been insistent. "You need to wait a moon's turn after the departure of the king's party – not a day sooner!" But night after night they howled. One wolf just sat outside his target's window. The other two prowled the grounds of the keep when not trailing their masters. The smallest boy had ran earlier in the day and the beast almost found him. The damned thing had stopped right outside the stall he was hiding in. If the boy hadn't been crying looking for his bitch mother he may have taken a moment to look back at his beast and spotted him in the stall. He had been covered in hay and manure for a fortnight now and the fear of getting discovered was too much. But the idea of leaving with the silver and skipping the job had never crossed his mind. Not with the sigil he saw poorly hidden beneath the rough-spun cloak he had been wearing…

He then saw a light in a distant window…...an idea formed. The perfect distraction.

That evening he was hiding in a dark corner of an corridor near his target. He heard voices in the room….wailing from what could only be the mother of the brat. Soon the sounds of shouting should bring them rushing out. Suddenly he saw the young lord rush out and race down the stairs. He waited for the mother to follow but she did not. He would have to kill her too. He slowly walked into the room. Once she noticed him he said "You weren't suppose to be 'ere..." She flew to the window to scream but before she could he slapped a dirty hand over her mouth. She struggled mightily to get free. She even tried to bite his hand. Forgetting his desire to be quick and clean he lost his grip on his temper and stabbed her in the heart. She gasped in his hand but the fight was leaving her.

He dropped her to the floor like a sack of potatoes. He looked down and saw the light leave her blue eyes. The blood began to pool around her. The killer of Lady Stark stood there for a minute and shook from the adrenaline. It had been too long! He hadn't felt this way since the sack of Kings Landing! Even when conscripted by Tywin Lannister in the Ironborn Rebellion he hadn't been able to fight like he wanted. Oh how he missed that feeling. Had he known what he felt now, he should have taken his time with her.

Getting control of himeslf, he turned to the boy. The knight was right. It WAS a kindness to kill him. He was thin as a bird. And his legs were bent at angles he only had seen after a cavalry charge through a mob of peasants in Flea Bottom. He looked asleep. But everyone knew he was at death's door. All he was doing was giving him a shove in the back to get on with it. Without a another though he slit the boy's throat. He never flinched. As he watched the blood cover the boys chest he heard a low, menacing growl. He turned in time to see a flash of gray and black. As he screamed his neck was ripped open by the direwolf that had raced up the stairs. But it was too late.

- Robb -

Robb Stark stood in shock. He had finished with the efforts to contain the blaze in the Winterfell library when a guardsman rushed over, informing him he was needed in his brother's room. From the man's face he had feared his mother had been right and his brother had passed from this world. As he raced back his mind was swirling with dread thoughts. But what he discovered was beyond the pale. His mother was on the floor, looking up at the ceiling with unblinking eyes. A pool of blood was beneath her His brother, despite his rail thin body and twisted legs, looked at peace. You could almost think he was still unconscious. Except for the sea of red blood that covered his neck and chest. Another person was on the floor. His throat a jagged mess of flesh and blood. Bran's unnamed direwolf was at the foot of the bed. It's muzzle was red with blood. But his head was down and whimpering.

"WHAT HAPPENED HERE!" he yelled when his voice was finally found. He looked around the room to the living. Maester Luwin, Ser Rodrik Cassel, and Theon Greyjoy looked back at him with mute expressions. Nobody knew what to say. Finally, Ser Rodrik spoke. "My Lord….. a guardsman passing by to help with the fire heard a man's scream from the tower and rushed up the stairs. He found the wolf pup savaging that man next to Bran's bod…..bed. The man was already dead…." said Ser Rodrik, trailing off.

Maester Luwin picked up the tale. "I was the first of us to arrive, My Lord. I immediately checked on your mother and brother but sadly... both were gone. This….'thing' was also dead." he added with undisguised venom. Luwin, an old man with gray hair, gray robes, and a heavy chain, had been a part of the Stark household since Catelyn had arrived in Winterfell after the Rebellion. He had helped deliver all the children, taught them to read, and treated them when they were sick. A maester's vow was of service to the keep, regardless of who ruled. But Maester Luwin saw the Stark children as his own grandchildren. It was plain to see to Robb, even in his own grief stricken state that everyone in the room was struggling with emotions.

Robb was at a loss. He didn't know what to do. He had just left this room 30 minutes ago! He had confessed to his mother he needed help – HER HELP! And now she was gone! So was Father, Sansa, Arya, and Jon.

"Oh Gods….Father will be devastated." said Robb. We need to send a raven at once! Maester, where do you think they King's party would be?"

Measter Luwin thought for a moment. "I will need to review my maps at confirm my estimate. But most likely they are in the Neck. By the time a raven reaches will be may be out of it. I will send ravens to seek out the Kings party to castles and lands along the Kingsroad by the Trident" Luwin let out a deep sigh and spoke in a sad tone. "I will make preparations for your brother and mother."

"Thank you, Maester Luwin" said Robb. "And when you send those ravens, send one to Castle Black too."

"For your Uncle?" said Theon, speaking for the first time. "They won't let him come back so soon."

"Yes, they will" Robb said with a touch of steel in his voice. "The Lord Commander knows which families support the Wall the most. And it's not just Uncle Benjen I need. I need Jon back here too."

"The bastard?!" Greyjoy stated? "You don't need him. He'll be over the moon that your mothers dea.."

Theon stopped speaking. It was hard to speak when you were a half a foot in the air, pressed against a wall, with a hand wrapped around your neck.

"Do not speak of things you do not know, Greyjoy" Robb said coldly. "Jon may have been a shame my mother felt forced to bear. But he IS a Stark by blood. A member of the pack. He lost a brother as well. And any of this 'joy' you speak of is not in him. Worry for us and anger at what happened would drown out those thoughts." Robb dropped Theon and as Theon staggered to his feet. After a moment he stopped panting. He rubbed his neck and glared at Robb. After a few tense moments where he even looked a little abashed, he stood straight, bowed his head slightly, and left the room in a huff.

"That boy has got to be the biggest idiot in Westeros" stated Ser Rodrik. "But he is Ironborn". Ser Rodrik had been tasked with training Theon like a member of the Stark family by Lord Eddard's command since his arrival after the Greyjoy Rebellion. He was treated better than a hostage or ward usually was. He had arrived in Winterfell as a sullen teenager. He now was a cocky young man with little wits and an over inflated sense of importance. Despite his best efforts to beat some humility in the boy, it had been all for naught.

Robb sighed. "Jon is too honorable to do it but he should have beaten Theon's arse several times over the years". Despite the age difference, Theon was not a great swordsman. He was better with a bow. And Jon was as good a sword as Robb. The two of them would spar in the yard, each giving as much as they took. He shook his head. "I need to write messages to my Lord Grandfather and Uncle. As well as messages to the Lords of the North." He then turned to Ser Rodrik. "I want Winterfell on lock-down. Nobody in. Nobody out. Not until we find where this man was hiding. Anyone that is not immediately recognized is to be detained and questioned. If they complain, they will be able to complain to me….while Grey Wind and I have a chat with them". Robb may not have realized it, but his face and demeanor was a perfect replica of his father when he was decisive.

"Consider it done, My Lord" said Ser Rodrik. After he left, Maester Luwin walked over with something in his hand. "This man is not from here. He looks like a Westerman. He most likely was a commoner who came with the Kings party. One of the many followers who trail behind." He then held up a dagger. Robb looked it over. It was exquisite. That was a dragon bone hilt with...he recognized that metal. He saw the dark smoky metal numerous times when his Lord Father would clean Ice, the Stark family sword, after an execution. "Valyrian steel!" Robb said in bewilderment. "Where did a man like this get a blade like that?"

Maester Luwin pondered that. "I do not know. The hilt makes me believe this was a Targaryan heirloom or was made after the conquest. Dragon bone weapons were common accouterments of the Targaryen family. This man either stole it….or was given it." That caught Robb short. So caught up in his grief and questions of what next, he had forgotten possibly the most important question of all.

Why?