Chapter 18:
Fear cuts deeper than swords.
Arya would need that familiar comfort over and over before the night was through, she knew. Theon Greyjoy was a wheezing, staggering bother to keep quiet. The number of times they had nearly been discovered was one that must not be allowed to grow any more. She had only seconds ago leapt up onto a man's back and slit his throat from behind before he could shout that Greyjoy was out of his cell.
She kept Needle pressed to her side, although once or twice she had let the blade glint in the moonlight, transfixed by its ray. It glistened with the blood of the enemy, which felt good on the end of Needle, where it belonged.
They were nearly at the crypts. All they needed was a moment and they could run.
Sansa should be with us. She should know Brienne and Sandor can look after themselves. What was she thinking? What was I thinking letting her go alone?
"Arya." Theon's voice made her squirm. As if some passing God had heard her, there they were, Brienne and Sandor, both bloodied and both alive.
"Where's your sister?" Sandor snapped.
"She went looking for you two when you didn't turn up." Arya snapped back.
"I trust this is the Greyjoy brother?" Brienne looked at Theon with suspicion, who took one upward glance at her and averted his eyes, terrified that she would hit him. Of course Arya had no real idea of what Ramsay Snow had inflicted upon Theon Greyjoy; as conceited as he had once been he was now lost in between reality and a nightmarish dying state, never trusting anything that could have possibly been good.
"What the hell were you thinking letting her go off on her own in this place?" Sandor hissed at Arya, who wanted to reach up and hit him.
"This is our home," She told him firmly, remembering Needle at her side, "Sansa knows it better than you. She'd be able to find you in minutes."
"Then where is she?" Brienne asked. "She must be found, and Theon Greyjoy must be taken to his sister. She must make the move on Winterfell."
"I'm the girl's shield," Said Sandor.
"Then you find her and we'll take Greyjoy to his sister." Brienne briskly ordered, and before Arya could react she had Greyjoy by one wrist and was leading him away. Arya remained behind for a moment before looking at Sandor with uncertainty.
Go, his expression told her, and she was reassured that Sansa would be found safe. She ran lightly after Brienne and Theon, her feet not making a single sound.
There were more men coming their way. Light had been spotted on the edge of the Wolfswood, and they were preparing for battle. As Brienne was in her armour, whenever one walked past they initially ignored her, taking her for another soldier. Whenever one did make a double take at Theon Greyjoy clutching her arm and the girl running beside Arya would pounce like a cat and sew him with her Needle.
"These are not the first men you have killed, I take it?" Brienne asked quietly as they came to the stairs of the crypts. Arya went down immediately without answering. She knew that the Maid of Tarth, of all people, would understand.
They lead Theon through the darkness with ease and soon Arya was pushing on the hidden door and going up into the grass. The fields were already filling with Bolton forces readying for a fight. As Arya stared at them she knew she should not be here.
I am a good fighter in small spaces, how Syrio taught me. I am not trained for field combat like this. But then again I'll bet none of this lot are as swift as a deer, with their huge bulking armour. She remembered the day Lord Tywin had ridden out of Harrenhal and how she had watched the horses charge away with the Crimson of House Lannister above. She had wanted to ride her own horse and crush them all into the dust. Now, here taking Theon back and bringing the Wolves back to their own home she was going to, in her own way. As she, Brienne and Theon made their way back to the horses she realised that they wouldn't be able to ride past the Bolton men without being shot down or someone recognising Theon.
But ahead across the moonlit field Arya could make out the silhouette of running men.
Asha is sending them in early. We haven't got Theon back to her yet.
Just be grateful. You can ride past undercover of combat.
As the Boltons raised a deafening shout of defiance and determination to not surrender she mounted one horse, and Brienne and Theon mounted the other. This is what Robb must have felt. He never lost a battle. This will be for him and for Father and Mother. Let the Wolves howl. Fear cuts deeper than swords.