The pack of Brandon's happy wolves left the last eve's camp before dawn, chewing on beef jerky as the hooves of their sleek hunters, and in Lohgun's case an almost gaunt garron, hit the Kingsroad heading south, further into the Riverlands alongside the Green Fork. The lot of them had said their temporary goodbyes to Cat back at Riverrun weeks earlier when they departed the site of the coming nuptials to meet up with Lord Rickard and the wedding party coming down from Winterfell. The reunion of father and son had come at the bottom of the Neck, the only thing spoiling it being Lya's absence from the procession out of House Stark's seat; a fierce illness forcing her to be left behind to the ministrations and ill tasting tonics of Maester Walys. At the Twins, the Wild Wolf convinced Lord Rickard to not cross the Green Fork and instead take the longer route to Riverrun in hopes of meeting up with Ned coming down on the High Road out of the Bloody Gate. The truth of the matter being Brandon not wanting to keep his temper a second time after the desiccated Walder Frey's rude treatment of the Wild Wolf's pack when they passed through on their way to the Neck. This day would see the Northerners reach where the High Road met the Kingsroad; but at Lord Rickard's gentler pace, not until dusk. And as a large inn was reputed to sit at the crossroads, Brandon sought both signs of his younger brother and saucy serving wench to dangle on his knee.

After the first few hours of hard riding passed, the pace, much to the Badger's wee, but willing horse, slowed. Elbert Arryn then spied a hawk spiraling upward on a swell of warm air, which made him wax eloquently, even romantically according to Kyle Royce in several muttered asides, about a particularly favored falcon of his in the Vale. A boat spied on the Green Fork got Jeffory Mallister to talk about the sleek skiff he learned to sail on at Seagard, which made Kyle wonder aloud whether Jeff preferred it in the bow or the stern, causing an exchange of sour glances until Brandon intervened. "Kyle, as you've taken to wearing the motley this morning, continue the part and sing us a song, fool."

"Ahem," the scion of House Royce cleared his throat before breaking out his fine tenor, "Come, neighbours all, both knightly and small; Let's perform our duties here, and loudly sing, long live the King, for bating the tax on beer. For I likes a little beer; and loudly sing, long live the King, for bating the tax on beer. Some people think wine of the grape, is wholesome and neat, but I will contend to my life's bitter end, there's nothing to tipple like beer; For I likes a little good beer: and I will contend to my life's bitter end, there's nothing to tipple like beer."

"Here, here," the Wild Wolf's party cried out, lifting up skins full of spirits to approve the tune.

Kyle took but a sip and broke out another air oft song round an inn's fire. "Drink! Drink! The red, red wine; that in the goblet glows, is hallow'd by the blood that stain'd the ground whereon it grows."

"Hey!" they all shouted.

The Ser turned mummer continued, "Drink! Drink! There's health and joy, in its foam to the free and brave; but 'twould blister up like a first man's cup, the pale lip of the knave! Drink! Drink! And as your hearts are warm'd by its ruddy tide, Swear to live as free as your fathers liv'd, or to die as your fathers did."

"Ho!" the packed cried in approval.

Brandon's squire Ethan, near old as the rest and as much a friend, quickly cut in with his own merry ditty, "I am the jolly prince of drinkers, Ranting, roaring, fuddling boys! Who take a delight in tossing full tankards; Filling the ale-house with my noise. Ten gallons at a draught, did I pour down my throat. But hang such silly sips as these: I laid me all along, With my mouth unto the bung, and I drank off a hogshead at my ease."

"How 'bout one for the ladies, love them as we do?" Jeff shouted.

Elbert's squire Waymar Egen, a twig thin lad of thirteen roared off in a surprising bass at the challenge, "A virgin lady, fresh and gay, did privately appear, ser. Hard by a riverside got she, and did sing loud, the rather, ser. For she was sure she was secure, and had intent to bath, ser. She pulled her robes off, one by one, and did herself undress, ser. Into the fluent stream she leapt, the fishes from all quarters crept to see so fair a lass, ser. Each fish did wish himself a man, about her all were drawn, ser. And at the sight of her began to spread about their spawn, ser."

"A lad that long her love had been and could obtain no grace, ser, Pulled off his clothes and furiously did run and leap into her. She squeaked, she cried, and down she dived, he brought her up again, ser. He brought her up upon the shore, and then, and then, and then, ser. As Aegon did old Daena enjoy, you may guess what I mean, ser; Because she all uncovered lay, he covered her again, ser. With watered eyes, she pants and cries, 'I'm utterly undone, ser, If you will not be wed to me by the next morning sun, ser.' He answered her, he would not stir out of her sight till then, ser. 'We'll both clasp hands in wedlock bands, marry, and to it again, ser."

"More, more, more!" they all cried, the wineskins flowing.

"I know, I know," screeched Jeff's squire Lymond Fisher. "There was a lass and a bonnie lass, A-gathering nuts did gang, And she pulled them high, and she pulled them low, And she pulled them where they hang."

When Lymond paused for a breath, Kyle's squire, Arwood Upcliff, continued the ribald song for him. "'Til tired at length, she laid her doon, And slept the woods among, When by there came three lusty lads, Three lusty lads and strong."

Lymond answered with, "Oh the first did kiss her rosy lips, He thought is wasna wrong. The second unloosed her bodice fair, That was sewed with silk along."

And Arwood ended the bawdy tale with, "And what the third did to the lass, Is no put in this song. But the lassie wakened with a fright, And she says I've slept too long."

"I hope it won't take three men to satisfy your sweet Cat, Bran." Kyle japed.

"Arse," snapped Brandon, his cheery mood swiped away in a moment by the ill jest. "My cock's enough to keep every maid in Runestone happy."

"A song for Lady Catelyn," called out Elbert.

"To her beauty," chanted Ethan.

"To her auburn hair," cried Jeffory.

"And sweet temper," announced Waymar.

A small smile slid onto the Wild Wolf's face, quickly replaced by a sly one. "Ho, Badger, I don't think we've heard a tune out of you yet. Think a wildling's grunts can do justice to my betrothed?"

"Now, who's the arse Bran?" Lohgun grumbled.

"Or if you're too afraid to warble for us?" Brandon taunted.

"Badger!" "Badger!" "Badger!" "Badger!" "Badger!" the pack started howling.

"Others take you!" he snarled. "I'll sing."

"And no fair croaking something like 'Let Me Drink Your Beauty' or 'Two Hearts That Beat As One,'" the impish Kyle needled. "Sing us something they only know beyond the Wall."

Lohgun stroked his muttonchops thoughtfully, bringing up the image of the indescribable Cat in his mind's eye, completely ignoring the shouts of "Sing!" "Sing!" echoing around him. Something unexpected moved inside him and suddenly his mouth opened, a sweeter sound than any that every before passed his lips emerged. It started with soft, eerie humming, slowly growing louder until the Badger began to sing.

"There's a lady who's sure all that freezes is cold
And she's buying a stairway to winter.
When she gets there she knows, if the ice is all closed
With a word she can get it to open.
Ooh, ooh, and she's buying a stairway to winter."

"There's a sign at the Wall but she wants to be sure
'Cause you know sometimes words have two meanings.
In a tree by the brook, there's a direwolf who sings,
Sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiven."

Humming.

"Ooh, it makes me wonder,
Ooh, it makes me wonder-er-er-er.
There's a feeling I get when I look past the Neck,
And my spirit is crying for leaving.
In my thoughts I have seen rings of smoke through the trees,
And the voices of those who stand looking."

Humming.

"Ooh, it makes me wonder,
Ooh, it really makes me wonder-er-er-er.
And it's whispered that soon, if we all call the tune,
Then the children will lead us to reason.
And a new day will dawn for the first men who stood long, And the forests will echo with laughter."

Humming.

"Oh-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-ho-oh

If there's a bustle in your hedgerow, don't be alarmed now,
It's just a spring clean for the greenseer.
Yes, there are two paths you can go by, but in the long run
There's still time to change the road you're on."

Humming.

"And it makes me wonder.
Oh-oh-ho. Your head is humming and it won't go, in case you don't know,
The raven's calling you to join him,
Dear lady, can you hear the wind blow, and did you know
Your stairway lies on the howling wind? Oh-oh-ho."

Humming that Lohgun eventually replaced with sounds that imitated the plucking of lute strings.

"And as we wind on down the road
Our shadows taller than the snow.
There walks a lady we all know
Who shines white light and wants to show
How everything still turns to cold.
And if you listen very hard
The tune will come to you at last.
When all are one and one is all
To be a wolf and not a roeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee."

Humming.

"And she's buying a stairway to winter."

The wildling breathed deeply, spent by the effort. Then he noticed that all nine of them had stopped their mounts at some point. Confused, he looked over at his friends. They stared back at him with stunned looks and dropped jaws.

"I don't think they sing that beyond the Wall," Elbert finally uttered.

"They don't sing that anywhere," Brandon proclaimed in awe.

The next two hours on the Kingsroad were oddly quiet.

"No my lord, like I says already, no'uns've come down off't High Road in days," the woman with blood red stained teeth told Brandon. "If'in t'ey did, t'ey not come t'ru here."

The Wild Wolf grimaced. He was anxious for a sign of his brother, the Quiet Wolf. "Thank you, fair innskeep," he answered the woman who appeared far scarier than fair. Brandon handed her a gold dragon anyway. "Wine and fowl for my companions. We'll take the table in the back," he declared, before turning away and nodding at the Lohgun to follow him.

Heading toward the rear of the common room, they picked up Kyle, Elbert, and Jeff whom the Wild Wolf had had spread out to check with the other occupants on news of any recent party coming out of the Vale. The Badger was kept at Brandon's side, as a lordling would likely find travelers more forthcoming with information than a half trained wildling.

"Targaryen's teats," the Wild Wolf muttered in disappointment as the others confirmed the same as Masha Heddle had.

Luckily, before Brandon could work himself up into a fit, some scruffy serving lad showed up with a vinegary red to dole out. Glasses, passably clean, were filled.

"To the Lady of Winter," Elbert proposed.

"Catelyn," they all echoed.

At the end of an hour, three birds, river swans, sat in their bellies as well as several more bottles of mediocre wine.

Another hour later, a brace more of bottles sat empty at their table and Brandon had that certain bored look. Lohgun knew mischief frequently followed the Wild Wolf when that glint flickered in his fiery eyes. His friend abruptly stood up. "C'mon," he demanded of his friends.

Jeffory scrunched his eyes in surprise. "Where?"

"Let's go riding, this inn tires me to tears."

They all stood up. Where Brandon led, they followed.

"Do you want to go up the High Road in search of Ned?" Elbert asked.

The Wild Wolf appeared pensive for a moment, then shook his head 'no.' "Lord Darry should be able to provide us better entertainment than this," he declared.

"What?" gasped Kyle.

"I thought we were to wait here for your lord Father," Lohgun interjected.

Brandon impatiently tapped a forefinger on the scarred, wine stained table. "I'll leave him a note. Ethan, pull out some parchment. For a stag, I think we can safely trust the inn keep to hand it to my father when he arrives."

"Yes, ser," answered Ethan, immediately digging into his small pack before dubiously adding, "it will be dark by the time we reach Castle Darry, won't it?"

Brandon gave his squire a dour eye for a moment. "I think as it's not far off the Kingsroad, we'll chance it, eh Lord Glover," the Wild Wolf said with cutting sarcasm.

A red faced Ethan handed over a thin sheet of animal skin, a quill, and a small ink bottle. A message was quickly written, folded over, dripped with wax, and Brandon's ring imprinted into the congealing liquid. The silver stag slipped quickly into a pouch on Masha Heddle's stained tunic. And not ten minutes later the pack's horses were saddled, mounted, and heading south toward the ford over the Trident.

"Gods damn her!" Brandon barked, waiving the small message angrily in his hand.

"My Lord?" Lord Darry's maester asked politely.

"My sister, who was ill, has apparently left Winterfell on her favorite steed."

Elbert crinkled his face. "Is she coming for the wedding?"

"Benjen thinks so, but she left no message. It's the only thing he can think of."

"How odd," Jeff commented.

"Silly chit," Kyle sniped. 'T'is no simple journey for a young lady to make."

Lohgun chuckled. "Sure bub, remind me to tell her that the next time she beats your sorry arse on the practice grounds."

"Shut up, wildling," the knight from House Royce retorted, his pride injured; while the others snickered, well knowing Lya's wicked speed and skill with the blade.

"Now let's see what Fat Manderly has to say," Brandon announced, picking up the other unexpected message brought to Darry on dark wings, and tearing through the wax sigil of a merman to open it. As the Wild Wolf's eyes scanned back and forth over the paper, he first gasped. Then he turned pale; paler even than when he tumbled into Winterfell's moat last winter. Finally a rage so red erupted on his face, the wildling feared his heart might burst or his brain rupture. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Brandon screamed, pounding both fists down on the table with terrible, brutal anger until the very wood splintered and shattered.

Seeing his friend driven mad with despair, the world flipped topsy-turvy on the Badger. Nothing made sense. It felt as if the very earth shimmied and rolled. As his concerned, scared companions cried "What's wrong," Lohgun didn't even feel as if he was standing in the same room as the Wild Wolf. A vision of his friend flickered in front of his face, of fire bursting in impossibly huge jets out of Brandon's glowing eyes.

The Wild Wolf took a long, shuddering breath, trying to gain control off himself again. "Rhaegar ... he's … he's kidnapped Lya," he choked out, then drew his sword, "I'll kill the lizard. Kill him! I swear to all the Gods he's a dead man."