They are riding since dawn and have only stopped to pee. Now, it's getting really dark, too dark to go on riding. The horses could fall and hurt themselves, and without horses, they are dead. Davos gets down first and looks at the sky.
"We've not ridden that much", the young boy who's with him mutters.
"No… Days shorten…" the old smuggler replies.
He doesn't remember since how long they've left: days, weeks, months? It was easy at first: they would meet people, they would ask about Bran and Rickon. Well, he would. Theon would never talk. He would look at a peasant and shake like a leaf with fear. It was also hard for him to remain on a horse all day long. Even Davos, who's not a rider at all, looked better on his mount. They have seen Lord Manderly, who told them Rickon was with a wildling on Skagos Island. Davos had hated this news. But he had no choice but to sail to this island, surrounded by rocks which could break his boat as easily as if it was made of twigs. But they made it, and now they are on this island looking for the lord of Winterfell. He turns to the young boy:
"Try to find something to eat."
They had run out of food a few days ago. But Theon was a good hunter. Davos takes care of the horses and lights a fire. Theon comes back after almost an hour, two rabbits in his mutilated hand. He turns away when Davos flays them.
The two men had difficulties getting along with each other: Davos was defiant about Turncloak, as many men nicknamed him. But living alongside the boy every day, having to wake him up from his nightmares because he was shrieking, seeing him trying hard to find them food, changed his mind. Theon barely spoke to him, however, with time, he was more and more open. Davos cooks the rabbits and mashes the meat the best he can. Theon comes back after he has a walk. He often does that, Davos doesn't really know why, and then he guesses the boy has spent too much time without people, surrounded by dogs and treated worse than one of them. Theon faintly smiles at him and sits by his side:
"T-thank you."
Davos smiles back and they eat silently. When they're done, Davos can't help staring at the flames, wondering how things are going in Winterfell and Castleblack. So close, and so far from his king at the same time. He can't help sighing:
"Y-you m-miss your w-wife, Ser?" Theon asks.
"I miss a good many things, boy", Davos smiles. "I miss my sons. My wife, and my king."
Theon nods a bit frenetically. He always looks very nervous, on the lookout, like a hunted animal.
"Wh-wha-what are th-their names?" he asks again.
"My wife is called Marya. She's tending my lands in Cape Wrath since all this has started. Sometimes, I wonder if we'll ever meet again… I have seven sons."
Davos's face suddenly darkens and his smile disappears:
"Six… Six indeed. Four of them are with the King. The two youngest are with my wife. I lost one of my sons, Matthos, at Winterfell's battle. Dale is my eldest son. Then there's Allard, Maric and Devan. All fight for Stannis. Marya is taking care of the two youngest, Stannis and Steffon."
Theon gives him a surprised look and Davos smiles again:
"Aye, I called my last sons those names. They mean a lot to me. I believe in no God. I believe in Stannis. He could have killed me when he discovered I was a smuggler. I saved his life, so he spared me. He just took that", he says, showing his mutilated hand. "And he knighted me, he gave me lands, a future for my sons. He is the best man I've ever known. Who's yours?" he asks Theon, staring at his eyes.
Theon looks down: he could lie and say "my father". But no, Balon Greyjoy is not the best man he has ever known. After a few seconds, he looks up at the Onion Knight:
"Ed-ddard S-stark."
Davos smiles slightly and nods slowly:
"I never knew him. But Stannis praises him. I think… I think the King does not believe Jon is his bastard. He always told me those were not Lord Stark's ways."
Theon tries to smile:
"J-jon looks a l-lot l-like him, t-though."
"You who have known him all your life or so, do you think he could have cheated on his wife?"
"Th-things were di-different. Th-they b-barely knew each other and th-there w-was the w-war so…"
"You know, I love my wife. I treat her well. I'm not proud of saying this but I've known other women, even when we were already married. But, again, I was a smuggler. As soon as my Lord made me a knight, I stopped doing this. I learnt how to act as a knight, but I never forgot where I came from, I never forgot who I truly was."
Theon looks at him:
"I-I un-understand why St-Stannis h-had t-trusted you. Y-you're an ho-honorable m-man, ser D-Davos."
"Thanks, boy."
"I-I'll n-never f-forget my-myself f-for wh-what I-I've done t-to R-Robb. I-I'll d-do a-anything t-to… A-anything", Theon stammers, his voice breaking and he looks down.
Davos nods in approval at him and stares at the stars, shining in the black sky. He knows how guilty the boy feels, he can see it every day. He really hopes he survives this war and forgives himself. The knight sighs, tired:
"We should try to sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a long day again."
Theon nods too and lies down on his back:
"Goodnight, Ser Davos."
"Goodnight, Theon."
The cold wakes Davos up the following morning: but it's not the usual cold, biting and piercing. Now, cold brushes his skin first, making him shiver violently and suddenly presses against his throat. Davos opens his eyes, looks at Theon, fully awake and shaking like a leaf, as usual. The knight looks up and grins.