Theon stood on the deck of Asha's ship, Black Wind, feeling strangely conflicted and yet empty. In a couple of days they would be coming into the Flint Sea, the first major bay coming up from the Neck. He had managed to convince his father and the other lords that it would be best to leave the smaller towns and villages for now and just assault the major holdings on the coast.
While this was generally accepted, Asha seemed to have disagreed as she stayed behind to 'talk' with Balon. All Theon knew was that they had an argument judging from Asha's barely contained anger when she left.
Despite the years apart I see some of me in her Theon mused. She wants to be in the thick of battle and carve out her name. He did suspect that the years had been somewhat hard on Asha being the only direct heir for nine years and a woman. It was obvious that she had worked hard to be taken seriously; both as a commander and a threat in battle.
Almost as if sensing his thoughts Asha walked boldly from the doors leading to her cabin. She walked right up to Theon's side but kept her gaze straight ahead.
"Father decided to send part of the fleet to the Neck" she stated.
"What?" Theon wheeled round to face her "That could very well cause Robb to fall back and attack us!"
Asha nodded but her face showed that she remained unconvinced "He did voice the same concern… that was until I pointed out that if Lord Stark did withdraw his forces north then the Lannisters would certainly make a push against the Riverlords to eliminate this only allies"
Theon bit his lip to stop himself shouting at his sister "That would require the Lannisters to send forces away from the Baratheon front".
"And several well placed raids into the Riverlands would cripple certain defenses and allow the standing Lannister force ample opportunities to break House Tully" Asha added, with a small cruel smile.
Theon paused for a minute before turning round again and placing his hands on the wooden banister "That was your idea I take it?"
She shrugged "Father is set on fighting the Stark boy too, seemed the obvious decision to have our returning ships from the Westerlands make a few strikes against enemy allies". Asha then made a small glance to Theon, as if judging his reaction "I thought you would have approved a… direct approach".
"I do… it just seems an unnecessary gamble" Theon chose his words carefully, "Our strength is in the sea not land and the returning ships will have tired crew members and lacking numbers. If they fail Robb will turn north and decimate what land we would have taken along the Neck".
"Father decided that the risk was worth it" Asha now kept her eyes locked on Theon.
He finally faced her. She wore the same expression as Balon had when he arrived at Castle Pyke, suspicious and distant. She was testing him.
"Have I done something to make you ill at ease sister?" he probed.
"Have you done something to make me feel calm and secure?" she replied.
"You and father no longer trust me" Theon stated flatly.
Asha now began to lean on the bannister "The Starks had you for nine years. From what we heard you were treated well… well enough maybe to make you passive to their ways, their thinking."
Theon nodded, but decided to push on an instinct "There's more to it".
"Oh?"
"This is… personal for you" Theon said, as a slow realization dawned "You were going to be father's right hand in this. Then I show up".
Asha smiled and nodded her head "Well… despite the years you do seem to understand me better than the rest of the family".
"So… you hate me?" Theon asked, feeling a lump in his throat.
Asha tilted her head back, pondering the question "Hmmm. You know… I hadn't really thought about it in those terms… I don't think I hate you… but, I do see you as a threat. For the last nine years I was being groomed by myself and others to take over House Greyjoy. Then you return. And Balon may be keeping his distance but it's clear to those who look… he's glad you are back. He even insisted on having you here, putting me to the side".
She then took a step closer to Theon, staring him dead in the eye "So tell me Theon, if everything you've worked and hope for the best part of a decade, is put in jeopardy barely within a week, would you hate the reason behind it? Or look for a way to regain the advantage?"
Theon just stared back at his sister blankly for a moment, before straightening himself to stare down Asha "I understand sister. But so you know… it is my right to take over House Greyjoy and the Iron Islands. Whatever happens, I will see that through. But I would rather have you on my side".
"Why?" Asha seemed caught off guard by the proposition.
Theon smiled "Because we're more alike than father".
Asha turned and began walking back to the cabin. She stopped at the door then called behind her "The raven from father also contained a slight change to orders. When we strike Flint's Finger, we then hit every coastal town and village before joining with him further north".
The cabin doors slammed behind her. Theon was left to return to his strange, detached feeling. Only this time he felt that time was running out, does he stay with the fleet during these attacks? Or try and warn Robb, or any Starks about the scale of the invasion?
North of the Wall
Jon pulled his cloak closer around him as he rode back with the latest scout party. Ghost trailed behind the group, almost invisible against the snowy cover of the forest. That wolf has more than come in handy since being out here Jon mused. In the searches being carried out for the massing wildlings they ran into smaller parties who did not take kindly to any Night's Watch presence.
The few that were willing to talk said nothing of a gathering. On the other hand they heard plenty of walking dead and shadowy figures in the distance. There were also stories of villages and known nomad groups being wiped out with no trace of intense fighting.
Jon sniffed as he urged his horse to go faster. Lord Commander Mormont had established their base of operations at an old fort known as Fist of the First Men. It was a simple ring fort placed on a hill near the river Milkwater. The river flowed south from a glacier towards a mountain range known as the Frostfangs.
As the scout party emerged from the forest they saw the milky river flowing free and fast to their left, and in the distance the outline of the hill could just about be seen.
One of the riders coughed "Gods… why the hell are we just staying put? It's nearly been three months! And all we've learned is that the dead just won't stay dead, and the wildlings are still hostile, savage bastards".
Jon rolled his eyes "Not much of the lands beyond the Wall is known to us. Would you rather we charged around blindly?"
The rider mumbled something incoherent but seemed to accept Jon's answer. He's not the first to voice that question though… and it is strange we've stayed so long and done so little he thought. It had occurred to Jon though that it must have been centuries since such a large force had ridden out from the Wall. Despite whatever precautions they took news must have traveled round fast about the Night's Watch presence. And they were just sitting around.
They arrived at the fort within the hour and Jon had decided to talk to the Lord Commander. As he made his way through the fort it still surprised him that much of it was still intact. It had been abandoned for centuries yet required little repairs upon the arrival of the Night's Watch.
Lord Commander Mormont had taken the building at the center of the fort as his own headquarters. Jon moved his way in to see it oddly empty considering it was getting close to night time. The interior was simple, a large fire pit in the middle of the room whilst several round wooden tables were scattered around. Now though there were mats on the floor where the men would sleep and the fire was actually lit.
Mormot was standing by himself at the table in front of the fire. He had been adding to the maps they had as soon as the first scouts completed their mission.
Jon strode over to the commander's side "The last patrol is back sir".
Mormont turned and nodded at Jon "Anything new?"
"No Lord Commander. We found tracks further into the forest where part of the Milkwater breaks off. From what we could tell it was wildlings, heading north-west to the Frostfangs" Jon surmised.
Mormont scratched at his chin then looked back at the map "That makes five reports in all of wildlings heading towards the mountains, within the space of two weeks".
"How many times overall?"
"Since we've been scouting the area? Close to forty sightings of tribes making their way there" Mormont leaned over the table, "But why the Frostfangs? They're hardly livable".
Jon frowned slightly "Well sir… they are fleeing from wights and Walkers".
Mormont grunted "Are they? Three months we've been here and nothing but wildling rumors and superstition".
"But what about the incident at the Keep?" Jon argued.
Mormont shook his head "I don't deny something is wrong and it's out here. I'm just not certain that the wildlings are fleeing so much as… massing".
Jon paused to consider what the Commander was saying, then he realized "You think the wildlings are coming together for an attack?"
"It might be an old soldier's worry, but we've found nothing else to say different" Mormont began to wrap up the maps on the table.
Jon however pressed on "So we make ourselves known, try to provoke a reaction".
Mormont nodded again, but this time with a slight smile "Yes, it's a risk but we have little options".
"What if the wildlings aren't the ones to take the bait though?" Jon said, and it was the commander's turn to pause.
"Then we will have our answer. And be forced to deal with it" Mormont replied, "I want you and your wolf on look-out tonight".
Jon felt frustrated again as the commander simply walked away. However he couldn't deny that the old man had a point. So far all anyone had heard were the rantings of wildlings who had been running for days, perhaps weeks. Fear, hunger and desperation do terrible things to the mind. If the threat from the Walkers was not as big as they made out to be, then why gather in such large numbers? But if there was a greater threat, why not work with those who had better weapons and more defensible positions?
Too many questions… and that's just from what we've heard. We hardly have any facts Jon thought as he made his way back outside. On the other hand he could not shake this feeling that he was missing something. Shaking his head Jon simply made his way to the wall of the fort, with Ghost trailing silently behind him.
The hours seemed to blend together as night fell quickly. Jon sighed as he went around lighting torches in the look-out tower before starting along the wall. The door opened as a ranger walked in. The man was of average height, sinewy, and his chin and mouth were all but concealed by his beard.
"Thoren" Jon said in surprise "What are you doing here?". The man had been trying to gain official recognition as First Ranger for some time now, it did not annoy Jon as Thoren had effectively taken on the responsibility in all but name before-hand.
"I was just told by the Lord Commander that your scouting party discovered another set of wilding tracks leading into the Frostfangs" he stated bluntly.
"Yes, but I don't see why-"
"You don't think it odd?" Thoren interrupted "That the wildlings completely disregard the fact that they're all heading in the same direction?"
Jon took a deep breath. While he respected Thoren as a leader, the man possessed an intense hatred for the wildlings "No, it's not odd. What is odd is expecting a wildling to trust anyone from the Night's Watch blindly".
Thoren appeared to ignore Jon's statement and continued "The fact is the only things we've found are large numbers of savages, and we have a good idea of where they are grouping. I know people are holding wights up as proof that the White Walkers have returned, but how do we know that another tribe simply learned how to raise the dead?"
"What do you want from me Thoren?" Jon demanded.
"You have the commander's ear. Suggest that we start investigating the Frostfangs" he said simply.
"Not a full scale assault?" Jon replied.
Thoren huffed "Despite what people say I'm no idiot. But a few recons will show I am right. In the months we've been here there has been nothing else".
Jon blinked. Nothing else… the words seemed to act as a catalyst for the nagging feeling in the back of his mind. Thoren is right… there has been nothing else. Absolutely nothing. No wolves, no bears. We've only found human tracks. He turned away from Thoren and looked into the night. There was complete silence. In their first few weeks at the fort there had been some basic animal sounds but now…
"I must speak with-" he started, but it seemed that his realization was somehow sensed, or fate was just not on his side.
A great fire suddenly erupted at the foot of the hill. Jon and Thoren both rushed to the wall to see what had started it. Calls were already going out from the other look-outs. Jon felt his heart began to quicken as he made several, thin shadows moving round the fire. One of them seemed to be pointing at the fort.
"By the Seven.." Thoren whispered as the snow around the forest was disturbed by rising bodies.
Jon clenched his fists over the wooden banister. In the distance more and more figures were either running to the hill or pulling themselves out of the ground. He could make several outlines of bears but the majority of the horde was human. They began to pick up pace, and the closest ones held a familiar look of a frozen body.
Jon instinctively went for his bow and arrows but held for a moment. He then whipped the tip of the arrow through the lit torch, and then shot the flaming arrow at the closest creature. It went up in flames almost instantly.
Thoren ran from the look-out "To arms! To arms!" he shouted.
Jon could the rest of the Night's Watch stirring but remained in place, firing at the oncoming wights. He felt a cold sense of dread steal over him. It was a trap… the fort was in perfect condition, the wildlings were running… we are alone here Jon thought as a seemingly endless army of the dead began to throw itself at the small outpost.