Martyn
The day has finally arrived, Martyn thought while looking out of his window into the yards of Winterfell which were bustling with all sorts of people. Farm hands, kitchen boys, serving women, stable hands, guards, stewards and under-stewards, among others, were rushing for their tasks. The Royal party was set to depart today. Around 250 were from the Kings party and a large number from Winterfell would be joining them. This was going to be a pretty huge one.
Martyn leaned closer to the window and felt soft, cold white flakes on his face. He liked the feel of snow on his face, as it melted and turned to soft droplets, running down his cheeks and onto his hands. Will I ever see this place again? He wondered. He let go of the drops and looked out again. Uncle Benjen was moving a large cage filled with ravens upon a cart into the shelter. Mist formed outside his face as he pushed it through the snow. Probably for the wall, He thought and then remembered…...
"Gods, how can I forget? "He cursed under his breath. It wasn't only Uncle Ben who was leaving for the wall but also Jon. Damn him; I never thought he would take it seriously. It was Martyn who had urged Jon to go along with his plan to join the Nights watch for very not-so-reasonable reasons. He would have gone still, with or without my urging. It was a right decision, as far as Jon's position was concerned. He would never have done anything worthy of mentioning if he stayed here, for there was no position for him in the future of House Stark. Yet those weren't the things I was concerned of. The matter was entirely different, still…
Martyn had already donned on fresh clothes he had kept for this day. He had also donned his favorite woolen cloak; a deep blue one outlined with creamy white and fastened on his right shoulder by a brooch which was cast in two pieces of two different shapes, one a descending falcon and other a crescent moon reminded him of the vale and House Arryn. He had made promises to someone close, and so needed to keep them as close to his heart as possible, or so I think. He had placed his sword with his other belongings, preferring a dagger for daily use. This was one of the lessons he learnt from the Blackfish "In tough situations, your life balances on the edge of a dagger and skill of the hands which use it, nothing more, nothing less". He firmly attached the dagger to the lower part of his belt. Blackfish's lessons are hardly to be ignored.
As he went outside he saw Wylas, his serving boy placing the luggage in one of their wagons .it seemed quite heavy so Martyn moved besides to help. Wylas snapped to attention "Milord" he greeted him "Morning, Wylas. It seems that the loading has been done. Where is Clyda? I have never seen you without her" Martyn smirked as Wylas blushed "She's brining food sop… plies from the Kitchen, Milord" he answered with great unease. They both had been quite loyal and efficient in their duties. Sometimes Martyn even supped with them to know them more, as he had seen Lord Arryn do. Though he supped with his Stewards, Captain of Guards, Stable-hands and even cooks. All I had were these 3 who did all of the household work for me."Fine then, go on." He remembered and called out "And Yes, Wylas, I am sure your dues have been cleared. You will straight away go to Iron Oaks, not Eyrie after replacements arrive before we reach the city." Wylas bowed awkwardly and went away. Lysa will even refuse to let my serving men enter her castle, far from paying them. He had sent ravens to the Mountains of Moon regarding the serving men he needed and to the Bloody Gate for the new Guards. I need skilled warriors to protect me in the capital if it comes to that. The men he had were quite average in their skills, solid in their loyalty and tired from the recent events. And there were just a dozen of them. Ravens bearing confirmatory messages from Nestor Royce and Ser Brynden Tully had arrived not long after. Nestor had promised to provide for the families of his serving men once they reach the vale and send them to Iron Oaks besides sending fresh men and supplies. Ser Brynden had picked 30 seasoned swords himself and pledged to send them before the party reaches the city. Martyn felt quite satisfied after this.
He was roaming in the yard when he heard Robb shouting commands to his own men. He smiled as Martyn approached "How fares our friend from the vale?" Robb said as he pulled him into a tight handshake. Gods, he has grown strong." I see that you have started off early" the look on Robb's face signaled confusion "I mean, taking command of Winterfell now" "Ah, this" he glanced around him "is a mess. Even bringing the horsemen into position is difficult, much less commanding them" Martyn smirked " Robb looked at him again "And you" Robb placed his hand on Martyn 's shoulder "your baggage train seems to consist of just two wagons, My lord" He said in a sarcastically mocking manner."Well, I don't burden myself with much material although your luggage looks overburdened with Wolf skin cloaks. No need of them in the City, Robb. It's warm like hell down their" Robb smiled plainly"No, it's not about the coldness but memories. Every Northman holds his lands dear to him and whenever he goes into a strange place, he always takes his Wolf skin cloak with him to remind him about everything north of the neck. It's like that" Martyn nodded in appreciation. Stubborn old Northmen, they never learn.
"So enjoy your lordship Robb. But remember that you are Ned Stark's son and must prove that on each and every step."…. "Martyn" Jon interrupted the conversation between the two and waved his hand "So I have been neglected by two brothers of mine, huh "he japed. Robb looked towards him. "Where the hell have you been, Jon? Uncle Ben was looking for you". Martyn saw a flicker of unease on Jon's face. I know where he has been, Martyn realized. He saw Jon just coming from Bran's chambers where, no doubt, Lady Catylen was also present. He himself had said his farewell to an unconscious Bran yesterday night, before Lord Stark came after him. The looks which Lady Catylen was throwing at him…Gods, I wonder how she might have behaved with him.
"Did you visit Bran, Jon?" Robb asked. Jon nodded. "My mother, was she-?" He was cut off by Jon "She was….Kind" he replied in a low tone. He's lying, Martyn knew at once. There was little he could do about that, being a victim of more or less the same treatment by Lady Stark's sister. Sometimes I wonder what these Tullys are made of, even the Blackfish. The bitterness between Hoster Tully and Ser Brynden was well known in the vale.
"Well, what were you discussing my Lords" Jon asked in a light manner."Deciding the name of the future Lord commander of the wall." Robb chuckled. Martyn pondered over the idea; well it is quite possible for Jon or anyone else competent enough for that matter. Sometimes Martyn felt awkward over the complexities of the world he lived in, the only place where competence is the sole requisite for elevation, is filled with the sweepings of Westeros…..and is the most ignored one. "Departing for the capital, Martyn?" Jon's words brought him out of his thoughts."Yes, I think so. And you to the opposite end of the world" Jon smiled "Sometimes different paths lead to the same castle, Martyn" Martyn nodded "Well said, my lord" I will miss you ,Jon. Robb came between them and clasped them on their shoulders "If both of you are done, I may request you to move to your places. Martyn, Father was looking for you, he said me to tell you that he will meet you again near the outer gates." He looked towards Jon "Uncle Ben told me to bring you to the stables the moment I find you" Jon shrugged "I have one more farewell to say". "Then I haven't found you" Robb turned to Martyn "Take care of yourself ,Martyn….And of my sisters" Martyn smiled "Our sisters, and yes I sure will. You take care of yourself as well, Robb" They hugged swiftly for one last time. "Farewell, Jon" He hugged Jon tightly, clapped him on the back and walked away to his men."Shall we?" Jon said."Of course", they moved towards the inner rooms upstairs.
Arya was packing her belongings, in a rough sort of way and, yes, with the help of her direwolf Nymeria. Only her belongings seemed to be stuffed in her box rather than packed."Jon" she looked towards them "Martyn" she leapt forward, only to have her feet tangled in the clothes on the floor. Jon moved forward to catch her but ,instead, she balanced herself in a perfect way. "Gods, how did you do that" Jon spoke in a shocked tone. "Like this" She leapt and swirled around, balanced herself on one of her hands, again swirled and then stopped on one foot. "Must be due to rigorous hours of training" Martyn mumbled. Arya was so skinny that sometimes it seemed to Martyn that she might get her bones snapped but instead had a surprising strength with the expected flexibility. "Though it doesn't look the same way with your skill in packing clothes" .Arya shrugged "Septa Mordane wants me to pack them nicely. Who cares? They will be messed up again during the travel". Martyn had to smile, she doesn't care what others think of her. To her, It is just herself and her world.
"You may not like her, but I have just the thing which you may" Jon said while bringing forth the gift. Martyn closed the door "Hold it still" Jon offered her a short and smooth blade which was larger than a long dagger but shorter than an arming sword, with a finely curved rounded blade."It's a sword" Arya gasped in excitement. He offered it to her, hilt first. Jon had gone to the chief blacksmith of Winterfell , two days ago, with Ser Hugh in order to repair the broken armor of some of his men and find some whetstone for the journey back. He found Jon there, watching the smith, Mikkin, polishing the blade of a freshly forged dagger –like blade. He pledged to keep it a secret.
"Will I be able to cut kill bad people with it?" Arya asked while swinging her present in an odd way. Martyn gasped "So thirsty for blood, she wolf pup" He stressed on the last word to intimidate her. She moved towards him an pointed her blade him "Don't call me that" Martyn smiled back "As you say, My lady". She was again irritated as he knew she would be "Don't call me that too" Martyn made a mocking bow "Aright Arya". Jon was scratching Nymeria behind her ears "You won't be able to hack someone's head off with this but you can fill him with holes if you like" Arya was still slashing in air.
Martyn brought out his own present, wrapped in the small linen covers, and showed it to him. "A book" Arya said in a boring tone "I don't like reading stupid books ". "This is no stupid book, Arya. Read the cover." He gave it to her "The life and adventures of Elio Grivas; First sword of Bravos" it was a small book ,though finely written, with nice illustrations. "This is exactly the sort of book you need to use well the gift Jon just presented you and you will know much and more about the warriors of Bravos. You will find the water dancing technique especially very useful, for I think it suits your style and nature". Arya felt excited "The water dancing technique! What is it?" Martyn tapped on the book in Arya's hands "You must read about that and you will come to know" He stood up "Perhaps you may well become a famous warrior one day" Arya's face was full of enthusiasm. Book or no, she has the will for it.
"Every sword has a name, they say. What will yours have?" Arya looked at her sword and then replied "Sansa can have her sewing needles. I have a needle of my own." Martyn smirked "Quite appropriate. Well, start your sewing lessons soon enough then" Arya looked at him "Will you train me?" Martyn was shocked a bit "Well, I am nowhere near as your brother here is in swordsmanship but Hmmmm…Yes, I guess. There are long leagues between here and Kingslanding and places fit to practice" Arya leapt again towards him. Gods, she is a wild Hare. "Thank you, Martyn" Then she hugged Jon "And you Jon, I will miss you. Please do send letters once you reach the wall"Martyn sighed, would I ever be able to say that to someone? I guess not. Jon had moved towards the door but suddenly turned towards her "And remember","Don't tell Sansa" They both said at once. Martyn led the laughter that followed "The dread deems mutual, heh" He smiled at Arya and then went out through the door.
It was snowing more fiercely now; with occasional gusts of wind driving the cold into the bones. Martyn wrapped his cloak around him. Winterfell seemed a white heaven from above. Why are Starks so wary of winter? It seems adorable enough to bear. He shook the thought away, Stay here for longer and you will know why, a voice inside seemed to answer. Jon was standing beside him, a more sullen look on his face."Is aught amiss, Jon?" a stupid question. "Or are you just trying to look at the wall from here."Jon smiled weakly at him. He will miss this. After all it is his home, you fool. He needs to be reminded, for it will be quite hard for him…..initially.
"The brothers of the Nights watch forsake all that holds them back, be it family, trade or lands" Jon scowled "I know that". "Then why do you seem so lost?" He asked. Jon looked at the yards below "It's not me I am worried about. It's them" He pointed his finger at Lord Stark who was talking to Arya with Septa Mordane besides her. Has she been caught? Martyn feared. "Your family, I know. But don't worry about them. They will be safe and happy in Kingslanding" He felt the bitter taste of lie in his mouth.If it comforts him, why not? "Promise me, Martyn" He suddenly looked at Jon who was staring at him with those dark grey eyes of his, "What?" "Promise me that you will help my father whenever he needs it .Promise me that you will protect my sisters from any harm, whatever happens"
Martyn suddenly felt that some enormous burden was crushing him under its weight …"Promise me Martyn"….."You will defend the vale and your family" and old man on his deathbed was muttering with his last breath, blood oozing out of his mouth….."I promise to defend this kinship, Uncle" He was pledging to a tall, grey-eyed and brown haired man…his eyes filled with grief and secrets…."I promise, Lyn" he heard that man muttering in his bed after he had collapsed ….Everyone has some promises to keep, so why am I feeling so burdened.
"I promise, Jon" he replied with whatever will he could muster in order to put Jon's heart at rest."I promise to protect our sisters from all sorts of harms. And I promise to help our kinsmenin the times of need" he ended solemnly.
Before leaving, Martyn felt a need to pray. He entered the small sept Winterfell had and was glad to find no one there. He took a knee before the idols of the seven, their faces unreadable, and closed his two hands t say his prayer
"Father, watch over me and mine and help me to protect and help my kin, of blood and love, from all sorts of harms"
"Mother, fill mine and the hearts of all others with your love and compassion"
"Warrior, give me and mine the strength to overcome falsehood and uphold what is right"
"Smith, help me and mine to sow the seeds of prosperity and plenty and feast on our own rightful bread"
"Crone, guide me and mine through the dark days to come ahead and show us the right path"
"Maiden, fill the minds of me and mine with appreciation for beauty and sense to find love and warmth in each other"
"Stranger, He stopped on the sound of someone's footsteps behind him but continued nonetheless "bless us with less and lesser visits of yours so that we may get enough time to make this world a better place for everyone to live in" He took a deep breath, as the air was full of aroma coming from the incense sticks along with the fresh icy winds coming from the open door of the Sept.
He prayed for Lord Jon's soul, Bran's quick recovery, Jon snow's betterment in life, Lord Stark's health and safety, Arya's and Sansa's well being and much more. The Kinsmen I forged in love.
His knee was throbbing with pain by the time he stood up to leave. But as he turned towards the door, he understood who had entered after him into the Sept. A lady with uncombed auburn hair, weak and tired as she seemed, with a woolen cloak on, sat on one of the benches on the far right. She wasn't looking at him but had buried her head between her crossed arms on the table. He just sighed in pain and walked out.