Chapter Two
I think that I was the only one who cried, even though I knew that it would happen.
Asha was silent; father only shook his head in disgust.
Theon was still my brother, fool or not. It seems worse to me, that he is a prisoner in the torture chambers of Ramsay Snow, even on Pyke, we know of him. The Bastard of Bolton, he's a monster, a maniac, he hunts girls like wild boars and skins men alive.
The butcher they call him, even killing two innocent boys, boys who called you brother, even for that, you didn't deserve to be his prisoner. I cried that night, hot and salty tears that half froze on my cheeks, for the brother I wished that I had known.
Winter has come.
They were the last words I said to Theon, and most certainly the last I would ever say to him. The days grew colder here, and the war was raging on the mainland.
I'm not a child any longer, I was only seven when my brother left home, but now I'm seven and ten and I need to get out there, need to learn what is happening.
Asha returns tomorrow and I'm going with her when she leaves.
I get up from my bed, dress in a deep blue gown, almost black like storm clouds, quite fitting as the sky outside is dark and the drowned god's roars echo through the thick clouds, bolts of flaming white light cracking like a storm dragon's flame.
The wind is howling louder every minute, the waves bashing madly against the rocks below, so far below. I pray that Asha and her men return home safely; iron born or no; this storm will rage for days and leave behind a trail of death and wreckage.
O/O/O/O/O
The wind is whipping too hard around the castle to shoot, and even I am not fool enough to try. I would only loose ten arrows for every one that hit its mark; blown away and snapped against the cliff side.
The bridges are dancing the wind, swaying violently from side to side. I have lived in this castle for seventeen years, yet even I am terrified as I step out on to the wooden walkway that leads to the village. I need to go down there and see if Asha has returned, the storm grows worse every second and I fear for my sisters life.
I sprint across the bridge, heart racing and my hair blowing all around me, the ash brown strands flying in my face and growing knotted again.
But I hardly care, there's a doomful sensation, and I can't help but feel that something terrible is about to happen.
I run through the halls and my heart sinks lower, the castle seems to be empty, empty and silent. The waves crash against the rocks with a terrifying roar, the wind slams and bangs the doors and windows and screams through every hallway, but there is no laughter, no chatting and cursing and yelling, not even the sound of footsteps.
The only sounds are the deafening roar of the sea and storm, and the terrifying quiet of the castle's empty rooms.
I reach the drawbridge finally, and that's when I hear it, a tuneless wailing noise, so filled with emotion and despair that it breaks your heart.
Asha!
I run to the winding dirt road, I can see the people everywhere, crowding all around, the yelling, the sobbing, the uproar.
Asha, Asha, Asha.
I am nearly crying myself, and I am soaking wet, the frosty rains driving down on Pyke and sinking deep down into me until my heart has grown cold with terror.
I run forwards, pushing against the crowd, tears are running down my face now, and I feel so helpless. They make way for me, eyes down and faces filled with pity. I dash forwards, desperately looking for Asha, there's no wreckage that I can see, but perhaps her body just washed up.
I shove through and step forwards, the roaring ocean lies before me and a wall of iron islanders behind. I scan the beach, cold and grey and dark, so dark that it seems like night time. I see the body, crumpled and broken. I run faster than I've ever run before, pushing and shoving, children are wailing and I think I knock a few people to the stony, sandy ground, but I don't care.
Asha, Asha, oh Asha!
Is all I can think of, but as I crumble to the ground, dripping wet and shiver ring violently, the winds roaring and thundering, shaking the earth itself.
I look down at the person, my body wracked with sobs.
But it isn't Asha; it's father.
O/O/O/O/O
"I can't stay here." I say quietly, my sisters face is grim, "You would come with me? To take moat Cailin?" I shake my head, "I just want to get away Asha, away from the death and the bloodshed." She smiles sadly, "We're at war Saski. Death and bloodshed will only follow you, and where would you go? Everyone hates the ironborn little sister, there is nowhere safe for you but here, well, this place is safest..."
I nod quietly, and then the trumpets blow. I look up in surprise and Asha strides to the window.
She gasps, her face turning dark. "What is it?!" I ask nervously, Asha looks out, her mouth pressed in an angry firm line, "It's our uncle, Euron Crowseye."
As soon as our horses reach the shore, Asha has kept off and is striding off to meet the rowboats coming in to land. I stay on my grey gelding, stroking her name absentmindedly and watching the men approaching my sister.
The little boat is packed full of men, all armed and scarred and loud, roaring and laughing and talking. I can see which one is my uncle, he sits at the stern, his face is lit up with laughter, but his eyes stay cold and hard and grey.
He has ash brown hair, and he resembles father.
But where father was cruel, the Crowseye looks far, far crueler.
They say that he has sailed all around the world a hundred, hundred times; he has been gone since father banished him. That was before I was born, it seems strange that he finally returns the day after father dies...
"Uncle." Asha calls out, as the boat lands on the stony shore and the men spill out, "Ah!" He cries and strolls over to her, "You must be Asha!"
Her face is relatively blank as she looks up at him, my sister is quite tall, but Euron towers above her.
"Yes." She replies, "It seems odd that after twenty years of... raiding... You return the day after my father dies?" He smiles grimly, "I see you are quite like Balon." He looks at her, his eyes cold, then his gaze travels around the island, taking in the crumbling houses and the looming towers of the castle, and then finally settling on me.
"Saski? Is it?" He smiles; I jump down from my horse and approach them warily, stopping at my sister's left, but a step behind her.
"Such a warm welcome from my sweet nieces!" He grins, his mouth a cruel, hard smirk, the men who came with him are already at the village, having not waited for their captain.
"I should go and join my men, I trust you can have rooms made ready for me in the castle." Then he walks past us, Asha scowls after him, and I can tell she would quite happily send him to sleep in a stable. But she just follows and mounts her horse; I trail behind and climb back into the saddle.
We ride back up the cliff in silence, the roaring and cursing and laughter of our uncle's men fading behind us, their chattering lost in the wind.
O/O/O/O/O
That night Asha isn't in the hall when I enter. I've lived here all my life, and I know every man on Pyke, but I feel nervous and alone when the doors close behind me.
Euron's men are spread all around, and I cross my arms and walk towards the front table where I normally sit, where I used to sit with father...
A hand grabs my dress as I walk along the benches, quick as a flash I have my dagger pointed at his throat. Then I draw back as I realise it's my uncle.
His men laugh heartily and I blush, putting the blade back into its sheath around my hip.
"Sorry girl!" He cackles, "Why don't you join us?" I bite my lip but sit as they make room for me. Soon they are all yelling at once, a deafening roar where you can't hear a word anyone's saying. Then the Crowseye begins, his voice booming and dominant, he tells tales about his adventures across the narrow sea, men interrupt and comment and add to the telling, but slowly all the other conversations start to die out until every head is turned to him, every voice is silent, all except his.
He speaks of magic and monsters, of ancient cities, a whole kingdom underwater, lands of fire and communities of people with stone faces. It seems almost like a children's story, but his face looks so earnest, so serious, that you can't help but believe every word he says.
I sit quietly, gazing up at him in wonder. Then he stops at last, and there's a split second of utter silence, where the only sound is the distant waves crashing below and the wind gently blowing through the halls.
In that second he turns and looks right at me, and I am lost in his eyes, grey and dark and dangerous, where the truth looks like a lie and the lies are so believable that you'd bet your life on every tale he spins.
His smile is small, his thin lips curving slightly, but those eyes aren't smiling, I don't know if those eyes can smile.
For just a second I look up at him, not sure if I should be afraid or angry or nervous or happy or amused or shocked. Then I look away and the hall burst to life, soon they are all yelling at once, a deafening roar where you can't hear a word anyone's saying.
I stand up and excuse myself, not noticing that I've barely touched the food on my plate. I half run from the hall, because now I know what I am feeling; now there is only fear.