Chapter 10: Family. Duty. Dishonor.
In the years since his older brother's death, Ned remembered thinking about whether Brandon had fathered any children. It was possible. Similarly to Robert, Brandon was the sort who took pleasure in merriment with multiple partners. In the early years after Brandon's death, Ned had prepared himself to provide aid to any mother who birthed one of his brother's bastards. To his surprise, none ever came.
"As much as I enjoy Barbrey and the others, I'm in love with one special woman for me," Brandon confided to him at a tourney in Harrenhal. "You'll meet her very soon." Soon after, his older brother convinced Lady Ashara Dayne to dance with Ned. Ned remembered the pure look of love that passed between them right before the dance. He would never forget the tearful fight he witnessed between Brandon and Ashara later that night.
Now, as Ser Preston nodded to the Kingslayer's revelation, Ned felt hope that Brandon's and Ashara's child lived for the first time in years. Of course, it was likely a commoner or lowly lady, but a man could dream.
"Their child lived?" Ned said softly. He could imagine his niece; she had Brandon's long brown hair and Ashara's violet eyes.
Ser Preston shuffled his feet. "You are thinking that Brandon was the father of Ashara's stillborn child."
"One of the others, then. Who was …," Ned began asking before the Kingslayer rudely interrupted him.
"There's no need for lollygagging." The Kingslayer snapped. "It amazes me sometimes how long it takes for you to listen instead of jumping to conclusions. Bran, why didn't you just say what needed to be said? You knew that we will all be here at this moment sharing this news."
Ned glanced at Jory who shrugged his shoulders as he put the items besides the letter in the secret compartment. The Kingslayer was clearly not right in the head. There is no way Brandon could predict what would happen so many years after his death.
The Kingslayer muttered some more nonsense before sharing, "Your bastard niece is named Perenna. I'm guessing Preston here thinks of himself as her father because he raised her. Is she viewed as the draper's wife's child?"
"Yes. Marina and I agreed to raise her. But…"
"Your father forced you to the Kingsguard and the rest is history." The Kingslayer nodded with an amused smile.
"Yes. It's not too bad, I can still see Perri and Marina whenever her husband is away."
"Enough," Ned interrupted, remembering Bran curled up in his bed as one of his arm's bled. "This still doesn't change that you tried to murder my trueborn son."
"And Tommen." The Kingslayer snipped with sudden fury.
"It was all Littlefinger," Ser Preston shouted. "He's dangerous and if you reveal the truth now, he will kill your niece. You might have never met her, but could you do that to Brandon?"
Ned felt uncertain. He had figured out who targeted his son, but how could he jeopardize a different family member? Bastard or not, unknown till now or not, Brandon would want him to protect his daughter.
"You're right. We would need to get her somewhere safe first." Ned reluctantly agreed.
"And then I would gladly lay my life in the name of taking Lord Baelish down for his crimes." Ser Preston straightened, the chains on his hands screeched next to the wall.
The Kingslayer smirked. "Bran was right, there is nothing you wouldn't do for your family."
"You." Despite his innocence in this regard, Ned still distrusted the man. "What do you get out of this? Why would you keep this secret?"
"I understand the want to protect my family. Before today, I thought Joffrey targeted our…, your son. I…" the Kingslayer gave an unexpected pensive look. Ned recognized the fright in his eyes; how many times did he see that fear like that when he starred in a basin of water since the first attack on Bran. "I want peace to continue. Baelish plans to cause a war between our families. That's why he orchestrated Jon Arryn's murder. I want you to work with me to stop it."
Ned understood. Despite their differences, they were both two men who experienced the horrors and loss of war. Neither of them wanted another in their lifetime.
"Did he?" Ned turned to Ser Preston.
The short man nodded. "He got someone to poison him. I do not know who."
Ser Preston probably did it but didn't want another nail on his coffin. Ned found that he did not care. He simply wanted Lord Baelish to be tried as the mastermind.
"Ok. You will be a witness at his trial."
"Yes. I will tell everyone what Baelish planned. But how are we going to get Perri to safety?"
"Tell me where she is. I will get someone to take her out tomorrow." She could leave with Catelyn and Ser Rodrick. "As for tonight, we will pretend that this conversation never took place. Jory will be rooming with you tonight."
Glancing at the Kingslayer, Ser Preston whispered his niece's location to his ear. Ned was glad he kept the location and the accusation of the Queen's adultery from the Lannister. Ned would need to discuss with Catelyn about how he would address that crime with King Robert.
Meanwhile, the Kingslayer continued to smirk. "You know, in all of this, you never asked about the bastard's mother."
"Ashara or a commoner; it matters little to …"
The Kingslayer cut in, his green eyes glaring, "Lysa Arryn mothered your brother's bastard. As if a beauty like that would bed a Stark."
The Kingslayer wanted to rile him up. There was no way Brandon would like a silly, average-looking girl like his good sister. Ned remembered the disdain his older brother had towards Catelyn. As much as Ned knew Brandon would grow to love his wife, Brandon did mock Catelyn's Southern fancies, and described the Tully family as weak-willed and dull. "There's no need to lie." Ned realized then that the Kingslayer must have sent the note accusing Lysa of Jon's murder. Probably based on Lord Baelish's word. "Whatever Lord Baelish told you about Lysa, it's not true."
"He's correct." Ser Preston cut in. "Lysa's the mother. Bran fell in love with her during his visits to Riverrun. They bedded, and you know what happened next."
"That's impossible. Cat would have told me if that ever happened."
"You would have to ask your wife. Lysa said she knows. Brandon said she didn't. Baelish believes he slept with your wife instead of Lysa and that Lysa was never pregnant with his child. Who knows? What I know is that Lysa was in fact once pregnant with Baelish's child and Perenna's is Bran's," Ser Preston explained. "Lysa knew better when she felt Perenna in her belly. She ran off before Lord Hoster could kill her baby again."
The Kingslayer and the one who attempted pedicide must be lying. Why would Lysa betray her sister? Why would Catelyn never tell him about her sister losing a child? What was it with Lord Baelish and his attempts to damage Catelyn's reputation?
"You're thinking we're lying. That Lysa could not hate her sister so much that she would bed her betrothed. Lysa believes she knew about what Lord Hoster did, and didn't care to stand up for her, so she lashed out." Ser Preston sighed bitterly. "Maybe you think Brandon wouldn't care for her because of her simple looks. Well Brandon adored her because she knew to let loose. Have fun. Talk about something besides running a keep and politics." Ser Preston grinned as his chains rattled against his legs. "I miss the early days of Bran's visit when we would dance in the woods near Riverrun while Cat and her uncle ran the keep, while Lord Hoster was Gods knows where. We were all so happy. It all changed once Hoster forced moon tea down Lysa's throat. Poor Lysa had enough pretending that friendship with your brother was enough. She finally agreed that she shared Brandon's feelings. She owed her sister nothing."
For all this Ned knew one thing. If all of this was true, he understood where Lord Hoster Tully was coming from. "Having a child before marriage would have prevented any betrothal for Lysa," Ned said. "Lord Hoster made the right decision."
Ser Preston scowled. "Lysa was never the same. She became so melancholy."
"It doesn't matter. I know Cat would have known if Lysa carried a child and if Hoster did what you said he did."
"Like I said, you would have to ask your wife. What I do know it's that she was visiting the Freys when Lysa discovered her second pregnancy. Marina and I helped Lysa escape. Silly Hoster thought she ran away. He kept it secret from everyone. I guess he knew she would return. I'm sure you know that when Cat returned Lord Hoster told her Lysa was with her mother's cousin Walter and his wife, that Lysa stayed with them for a year."
"I hear you." Ned relented. He then made eye contact with Jory, "Watch Ser Preston. I'll speak about this with Catelyn before we make our next move." He would see if he could find Harwin or Alyn and have one of them watch the Kingslayer. Just in case.
"They're in on this together," Catelyn insisted after Ned told her of the Knight's confession of attempted murder and the Kingslayer's appearance. He had yet to speak about their possible bastard niece because he wanted to ease into that discussion. "You didn't find it strange that they both collaborated the same story not a day after you received the note that accused poor Petyr and dear Lysa of murder."
The couple were in a room at one of the inns towards the outskirts of King's Landing. Ser Rodrik and two other Stark guards stood watch outside. Ned felt safe; glad Jory was currently keeping a close eye on Ser Preston as Ned requested. He disliked letting the man roam free, but his potential niece was worth it.
"Preston only claimed that Lord Baelish was involved," Ned replied. "I think Lord Baelish probably told the Lannisters that Lysa was at fault for trying to get them to go to war against us. It seems like the Kingslayer understands that now because he didn't accuse her during the meeting. If they really wanted us to harm Lysa, one of them would have added that accusation. Look, I know I don't trust them, but it makes some sense. You didn't see the Kingslayer the past few weeks. He seems scared of every shadow, as if he knows war is near. I saw the fear in his eyes when he said he didn't want us to go to war. Harming Jon and our son is against his interests."
"But it is in Petyr's?" Catelyn shouted.
"I don't know why he would want a war," Ned admitted. "If he's innocent, the King would know, and we can move past this."
"You're far too trusting to these practically strangers. I spent the afternoon with Petyr, my friend who I have known since childhood. He cares for nothing besides running his brothel and taking part in the king's council." Catelyn shook her head.
He desperately wanted to believe she was right. He could put caution to the wind and trust her judgment on Lord Baelish. It would make everything so much easier. But he knew better. Perhaps if he never has seen the desperation in Ser Preston's eyes or if he missed Lord Baelish's eagerness to influence him, he could believe in Lord Baelish's innocence.
"I have made my decision. You may not like it, but you will not interfere. It's your duty to act as I say."
Catelyn scowled. "I found blond hair in the tower! I thought we were a team. But you wouldn't listen to me. You have never done anything about the boy, so why should I expect this to be any different? I'm sure if this accusation was about Benjen or the King, this would be an entirely different situation. Poor Petyr. I hope King Robert recognizes the truth."
"He will make a sound decision," Ned said, hoping he was right. "I know you're concerned, but my gut is telling me to believe that Lord Baelish is a schemer and for some reason he wants us to go to war against the Lannisters. Jon Arryn deserves justice. If I do nothing, his killer might never be charged."
"I see. You trust letters and enemies more than me."
"I trust my logic don't see how the Lannisters benefit from his death. I see Lord Baelish convincing Lysa that the Lannisters were at fault. I see him urging her to write a letter and tell you a story about a dagger that would influence us to go to war. I see that Lord Baelish wants power. You told me he did everything he could to rise up in the world."
Catelyn's blue eyes darkened. She told him everything about her friend's ambitions. "Regardless, the letter you trust so much said the Queen committed adultery, that she killed Jacks. He was a loyal member of your guard for years. He trained Robb and the boy." Catelyn sniffed. "She should face justice for her crimes."
"She will. I wanted to discuss with you on how to address it. So far, I only have Ser Preston's letter. I couldn't discuss it with him while the Kingslayer was in the room. I think I should warn the Queen. It's only fair and her reaction will tell me if it's the truth."
"Not that I expect you to heed my advice, but I say, tell the king. Nothing good will come out of warning that vile woman." Catelyn snapped.
"But Ser Preston is warned and knows what is coming. The Queen deserves a chance to state her case before facing Robert's rage." Ned flinched as Catelyn's face soured. "I'm sorry Cat, but as much as I like Robert, I know how he can be around those who wronged him. The Queen deserves the chance to state her case to me before facing him. It's my duty as Hand to address these types of situations before bringing them to the King's attention. It's my duty to keep the realm at peace. What if this brings harm to the Queens' children?"
What if Robert thought the adultery meant Cersei did it before and the children could be bastards. What would happen to them? What if the children were bastards?
"I know what your duty is. It's to bring the truth to the King and allow him to rule on the guilty, which the Queen certainly is, and follow through with whatever verdict and punishment he decides. It doesn't matter if the Lannisters' children suffer for their family's sins, or if they commit further treason in response." Catelyn scratched against the table and glanced out the window. "I love how much you care about others. Yet, you can't throw your honor to the wind for a woman or a man without honor, no matter the consequences."
Ned knew she was right. He simply hated the thought of committing an act that aligned with Lord Baelish's goal.
Catelyn was silent for several minutes. Ned tried to use that time to decide on the correct course to address the Queen's crime. Yet, his mind went blank on any possible answer to address the crime without damaging the Seven Kingdoms' peace.
"You mentioned Preston harmed Bran for his child, yes?" Catelyn's voice broke the silence.
Ned's stomach churned. He already angered his wife. He wished he could keep the girl a secret, but Catelyn deserved to know. He needed Catelyn to take her out of town.
"Yes. A girl who he sees as his but isn't really. He claims she is Brandon's bastard."
Catelyn's stare narrowed and her mouth clenched. "I knew that Brandon had bastards out there. I simply wanted to pretend they never existed."
"Ser Preston and the Kingslayer both claimed that Lysa is the mother," Ned shared softly.
Catelyn huffed. "They're lying. Lysa would never do that to me."
"Did Lysa ever disappear for a time?"
"Father let her go on all sorts of trips she never appreciated. She went to the Twins multiple times. Raventree Hall for a few moons. A year at Harrenhal."
"Harrenhal is your mother's …"
"Yes. My mother's cousin Walt ran it before his death. You know that." Catelyn glanced at him, perplexed. "Why do you care?"
"Ser Preston claims your father pretended Lysa was with your mother's cousin when she really ran away during her pregnancy."
Catelyn clenched her lips. "I told you. She would never dishonor me like that. She would never have ensnared my betrothed."
"Do you recall Brandon or Lysa ever spending time with either of them?" Ned hated causing the disgust in his wife's eyes.
"Lysa learned her lesson about not shaming our family after her indiscretion with Petyr."
"So Lysa and Baelish, Lysa lost her maidenhood to him." Ned felt bile rise up in his throat.
"Yes. That's why father betrothed her to Jon Arryn."
"And he forced her to abort their child." Ned concluded.
Catelyn's eyes widened. "What are you talking about?"
Ned explained and, from his wife's looks of shock, knew his wife never knew about either of Lysa's premarital pregnancies.
Catelyn sniffed, pressing a hand against her forehead. "Father wouldn't. He would have told me. He would have. He should have." Catelyn cried and walked to the window. Sniffing, his wife pressed her forehead against the window. "How many times did I cheerfully talk about my pregnancies, my healthy children? Did Lysa think that I would know that had happened, and not try to comfort her? She's my little sister."
"You never knew. It wasn't your fault." Ned said softly, rubbing her shoulders. Lysa should have told Catelyn what happened. Lysa should have sought her sister's comfort. Catelyn would have given it to her freely as she had done for Ned so many times throughout the years.
Catelyn leaned back into his arms. "I cannot bear to believe that she would wish to further taint my once betrothed. We were always close. We had to be. Father was too busy running our lands. We had to take turns raising Edmure after Mother died."
Ned rubbed Catelyn's back, and she shut her eyes. "Yes." Catelyn released an array of sobs. "Ser Preston was fostered in Riverrun. He used to drive my uncle insane all the times he asked to be his squire. I thought we were once friends. He and Lysa used to gossip and sneak into the woods as I watched over Edmure. It doesn't make sense that my old friends would do my son harm."
"Cat," Ned struggled to find the right words. "I wish they were true friends, but I saw the truth in Ser Preston's eyes. He did try to kill Bran and Tommen for Lord Baelish."
"You're not thinking straight. People are not as honest in the South. I love the South with all my heart, but I know oath-breakers thrive here. The Lannisters are behind everything." A glint lit up in her eyes. "I'll go with you to meet the pretender," Catelyn said resolutely. "I can take her to the Vale. Lysa can tell me what is true. I need to apologize to her as well, after all. If they are lying, Lysa can decide what to do with her, and we'll return with the truth. I know you won't wait on Petyr, but I will protect my sister. Just in case the Lannisters try to bring her into this."
"I will do my best to keep Lysa's name out of this." Ned promised.
Catelyn smiled tiredly and grabbed her shawl. "I'm ready to meet Brandon's possible bastard. I need to get out of this Gods-forsaken room."
The sun was setting as Ned, Catelyn, Ser Rodrik and the two Stark guardsmen entered the merchant district of King's Landing. It was nicer than Flea Bottom; first the stench lessened thanks to smells like spice and sugar, and second the children were fully clothed. Along the Street of Flour, a baker hummed as he distributed soggy bread to customers. As they turned right on the Street of Looms, Ned listened as various men and women bargained with merchants over mundane supplies.
After they passed several tents, they reached a tiny red tent which Ser Preston described earlier. In front of it, a lanky lad played a lute while a young Dornish woman sang for a group of children. The musicians stopped as Ned and the others in his group halted at the tent.
"That is quite beautiful singing," Catelyn complimented the young woman. "Do you happen to know if the merchant of this tent is seeing customers tonight?"
The singer shook her head. "Not today, m'lady. The draper is out buying new cloth and furs. But let me see if his ward may be willing. It's quite late." As the woman disappeared in the tent, the white-haired lad resumed playing the lute. It took Ned back to Harrenhal as he and his sibling watched musicians play at dusk.
The singer returned a few minutes later with a tall girl with cropped auburn hair. Smiling as they talked, both girls giggled as they approached the three of them. Her dark gray eyes confirmed that Ser Preston was telling the truth. This woman was the perfect combination of a Stark and a Tully.
A flash of recognition flickered in Brandon's bastard's eyes. "M'lord, m'lady," Her earlier smile disappeared. "Please come in. It's late, but I be happy to assist. What is it ye looking for? A fine, silk shawl, m'lady? Ye is quite weathered."
She led the three of them through the tent's flap. Inside were two broad tables on each end; every inch was topped with clothing, with some smocks hanging off the edge.
Ser Rodrik directed his two subordinates to wait outside. He then took his place next to the tent's flap and focused his gaze on guarding the outside.
After a moment of silence, Brandon's bastard smirked. "I see Papa Preston told ye about me."
"We heard his claims," Catelyn said swiftly. "We still haven't decided whether you are a pretender or not."
"Me a pretender." The woman laughed. "I wish. I would never bother. Ye, think I want anything to do with ye people."
"You should watch your words, girl," Catelyn shot back. "You're in the presence of…"
"A lordie and a lady, I know." Brandon's bastard snipped. "Whatever Papa said, I do not want anything to do with ye. He, mama and Lysa told me all about ye."
"By Papa," Ned said calmly. "Do you mean Ser Preston?"
"Yeah. I know he's not me true, but I know who my family is, and it's not ye Lord who cheated on his wife, or ye lady who let her father abort me half-sister, or me father who fucked many. It people who raised me. People Lysa trusted." Brandon's bastard smiled crookedly. "See, leave me out of ye affairs. Ye met me, go!"
"Do not speak to us that way. If we were the Lannisters, they would chop out your tongue for such words. As much as we wish to leave you be, we cannot," Catelyn said quietly. "We have word that someone might wish to harm you to get to us. I still don't know if I believe that you're Lysa's daughter, but I cannot risk you staying here. I'm planning to visit Lysa, and I want you to come with me."
"Please, Perenna," Ned started before the woman interrupted.
"Go, I no need for ye. I de draper's wife bastard and de draper's ward to ye." Perenna straightened so that her head reached the top of the tent. It reminded Ned of Brandon taking charge everywhere he went; Brandon often used his towering stature to make sure he looked intimidating.
"I apologize for any inconvenience," Ned said politely, wanting to make the conversation turn more peaceful. "Ser Preston asked me to take you from here. You are in grave danger."
Perenna cracked her neck, and punched the long table, causing some of the fabrics to fall. "Papa told me no worry. That ye never know. But that if ye did, he would tell you to take me out of here. He told me to go. But no. It nev'r work. Not with me defective."
"Perri," Ned turned to find a frowning copper-haired woman. "What did I tell ye about customers at this hour?"
"Sorry, Mama. Dey insist," Perenna murmured.
The woman glanced over at them, and her eyes widened. "Bran," she whispered.
"Mama. It's not that bigot. He dead, 'member."
"Sorry, Perri. It's just like I've been taken back to such a great dream. It's been too long since I saw those gorgeous dark gray eyes. I know ye dislike what Brandon did to Lysa, but he was my friend. I miss he so much." She beamed at Ned. "Ye must be Eddard or Benjen."
"He's Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell," Catelyn said sternly.
"Yes, m'lord. I apologize. It honor, Lord Stark." His brother's friend smirked. "Sure, ye know, m'lord, how Brandon hate titles. Ye look so much like him, I forgot me place, and speak as I would to he."
"Ye babbling, Mama," Perenna said, putting a hand on the woman's shoulders.
"How did you know Brandon?" Catelyn asked.
The woman smiled pensively. "He and he lord friends once bought me father's boat. We in Riverlands at time. Bran invited me to de party eh Elbert hustle me bastard father. Rest history. He eh he friends a fun lot. Dey nev'r care much fer titles when it come to good time."
That sounded like Brandon and his many friends. Ned had heard the stories of them wandering around Barrowtown, inviting both lords and commoners to various events.
"Did Lysa Tully, the Kingslayer, or Ser Preston Greenfield ever come to these events?" Catelyn asked.
Brandon's friend nodded before stopping. "Yea to Lysa eh Ser Preston. As fer the Lannister knight, me never met him and I nev'r heard Bran name he friend." The draper's wife blinked thoughtfully. "Hmm. Ye know. Maybe he father er one of he uncles was. There was one time me saw mid-age man in Lannister colorings and a Bran shadow monster in Lannisport w'ere Lysa hid with Perri. But then I look back eh dey gone."
This meant the strange connection between his older brother and the Kingslayer was still a mystery. But Ned at least knew that likely one of his family members was near Lysa. Whoever Brandon's friend had once seen must have told the Kingslayer about Brandon's bastard.
As Ned lost himself in his thoughts, Catelyn had continued talking to the draper's wife. "How long were Lysa and Greenfield friends with Brandon?"
"Donno how long. Me saw Bran eh Lysa many nights befer he return North, m'lady," Brandon's friend answered. "Ye sister was a right riot. As fer Ser Preston, I only saw he me last party to bring ye sister ..." She pointed at Catelyn. "… and ye brother…" She beaconed her hand towards Ned. "… home after their night of sin. I'm sorry she did that to ye, ye know." The woman smiled sadly at Catelyn. "She just angry at ye lack of sympathy for her loss of her first child. What your father did was unforgivable."
"You don't know what you are talking about," Catelyn snapped, surely frustrated at being accused as culpable for something she was innocent of. "Don't you dare speak to me that way."
"M'lady, I mean ye no disrespect." The commoner bowed her head. "I shouldn't speak those words to you. What between ye eh Lysa is between ye eh Lysa."
"Miss.," Ned said, wishing to bring this exchange to a close. Catelyn had endured far too much strife this day. "We're here because Ser Preston said that someone was threatening Perenna, and we would like to get her out of the city before he goes through with it."
"That be problem. Perenna belong here, and …" The draper's wife paused, glancing at Brandon's bastard. "Perri trouble in long journeys. Her body don't act right sometimes. It best not risk it."
"What do you mean?" Catelyn asked, furrowing her eyebrows.
"Falling sickness," Perenna said bluntly.
That was eerie. About five years ago, Catelyn had rushed out of Winterfell with several Stark guardsmen in the middle of the night to journey to the Vale. She left behind a letter that informed him that their nephew, Robert Arryn, had caught some terrible sickness. The boy was barely one year-old. Maester Pycelle had tried everything- milk of the poppy, leeches, a warm bath- and the baby still convulsed throughout the night. At one time, little Robert lay unmoved for a day after a long seizure. According to the letter, Lysa had thought her baby had died at one point.
Thankfully the baby eventually woke up and by the time Catelyn had reached King's Landing, little Robert had slept for a few days without seizures. It was due to Jon Arryn hiring Maester Coleman to take over little Robert's healing. Maester Coleman had developed a recipe for dreamwine that worked wonders for easing Lysa's poor son's pain.
"Then it is all the better that you come with us. Lysa's Maester had a version of dreamwine that would do wonders for your ailment," Ned said.
The draper's wife pursed her lips. "Hah, ye make sense. Me have some too. Lysa left some befer she go. Me get it fer de journey. It be better fer ye, dear, to go."
"Nah, mama," Perenna snapped. "Me not leaving ye."
"Why doesn't she go with us?" Catelyn said. "You both be safer in the Vale than in this cesspit of a city."
"No easy leaving home." The draper's wife rubbed her ward's left shoulder. "Me husband need me. But ye right. Preston did tell me to let our girl go if ye come. Me know Littlefinger threaten Perri."
Perenna reached for her neck and scowled. "Why Lysa like that little fucker, me never see. Me never forget. He…"
"Almost killed her," the draper's wife finished. "He once had a tongueless monster put a blade on me girl's throat until Preston finished ..." The woman started shaking, closing her eyes.
Catelyn reached forward and lowered the swaying woman to the ground. "Sit. There's no need to talk about that. We understand." An anguished frown ran down his wife's face as she sat beside the woman. "You understand, right. Perenna will be safer away from here. Away from all the cruel men who care only for using others through violence. I will protect her for you, for my sister."
After a few minutes, the woman's shaking slowed, and she looked directly into Catelyn's eyes. "Lysa wrong about ye. Very wrong." She turned to Perenna. "Ye need to go, Perri. It me choice for ye. If ye refuse …"
"I go, Mama." Perenna relented, tears running down her eyes. She lowered herself to the floor and embraced the woman. "Fer ye."
Catelyn moved out of the way and approached Ned. A dejected hiss came out of her mouth. "You might be right about Petyr. I don't think this woman was lying. He threatened this girl's life. How did he become like that? He was such a sweet little boy."
As much as he wished for one, Ned had no answer.
Beneath a cloudy sky, Ned kissed Catelyn goodbye right outside the stables at the Inn where they kept their horses. He and his guards watched as his wife, Ser Rodrik and Brandon's bastard rode off on horses. Perenna had taken on one of the guards' steeds.
As one of the guards bartered with the Innkeeper for a horse, Ned and the other guard waited in silence out front. Ned's eyes watered from the overwhelming aroma of horse dander and pollen.
All Ned wanted to do was lie down in his bed and forget about the world for a little while. He was sure that after some rest, he would be ready to confront the Queen and present Ser Preston's villainy to the King.
While Catelyn had recommended that he tell the King about the crimes at the first light of day, Ned knew the right choice was to first see the Queen's reaction to the accusation of adultery and possible illegitimate heirs. He would hate himself if he risked the lives of children without first being certain.
The elderly Innkeeper's footsteps crackled as he and the Stark guard approached Ned and the Stark guard waiting with Ned.
"This way," the Innkeeper's voice croaked, passing by them without a glance. "Me have steed in back."
The Innkeeper led them to a dark gray horse tied up near a slanted tree. The Innkeeper's hands shook as he untied the horse and passed the rope to the Stark guard who purchased the horse.
A snapping grunt echoed behind him. Ned turned to find a group of men on horses approaching. Each of the men held swords and wore red Lannister armor.
"Lord Stark," the Lannister man in front grunted. "You're coming with us."
"For what reason?" Ned asked, reaching for his Valyrian steel sword called Ice.
"Drop your sword, Lord Stark!" One of the men in the back shouted.
"What are you talking about?" Ned asked. This time he got himself in a fighting stance. His two guards quickly followed.
Ned knew they were outnumbered. In the corner of his eye, he tried to find a way out of this situation besides fighting. But there was no other option.
Ned quickly slashed his sword on the nearest horse's leg. The Lannister man on the horse fell, but he quickly stood up and started slashing his sword at Ned.
Their swords clanked as the sky started to rain. In the midst of a tornado of water, Ned felt a shield hit the back of his head. It was one of the Stark guards. His other guard stared at his partner in shock as the traitor ran his sword through the loyal guard.
As Ned's head started to ache, he saw bright red lights flicker and heard the Lannister men shouting. Shivering from the rain, Ned haphazardly tried to raise his sword. Instead, he fell to the ground and felt a cold sword against the back of his neck.
"Don't," Someone commanded in the distance. "The Queen wants him alive."
Dishonorable scum. Ned should have known better than to trust Jaime Lannister.