Mid November, 298 AC
When Maester Luwin brought the letter, it was to Robb the Lord. Bran watched Robb's eyes go back and forth as he read Sansa's delicate handwriting. The King was dead, Father stood accused of treason, and Mother and Robb were ordered to come swear fealty.
"She says we must be loyal, and when she marries Joffrey she will plead with him to spare our lord father's life." Robb crushed Sansa's letter in his fist, then dropped it to the ground. "And she says nothing of Arya, nothing, not so much as a word. Damn her! What's wrong with the girl?"
"May I see?" Bran asked.
Before Maester Luwin could take two steps, Summer gently scooped the ball of parchment in his jaws and dropped it in Bran's lap. The maester blinked in surprise as Bran smoothed the letter out, careful not to tear it. Bran read a few sentences, then frowned.
"Maester, how is treason spelled?"
The maester blinked again, his grey eyes perplexed. "T-r-e-a-s-o-n, child. Why?"
Bran pointed at the letter.
"Sansa spelled it t-r-e-e-s-o-n. She never makes spelling mistakes, not like Arya or me," or Robb, Bran thought but did not say. Robb could read well but Maester Luwin despaired of his spelling.
Maester Luwin plucked the letter from Bran's hand, his bushy grey brows knitted as he read. Quill and parchment lay on the table, and Maester Luwin began to write, one letter at a time. Robb paced back and forth, his blue eyes blazing, Grey Wind at his heels. At last the maester was finished, and he held out the parchment for Robb and Bran to read.
Bran looked at the parchment, his mouth dry. The crows were cawing in his ears. Bran hit the ground and something snapped. Time spun backwards, and Bran was rising, rushing up through the air, to stand on the hard stone sill of the tower. They were there, the matching faces, golden haired and green eyed. "He saw us," the woman said shrilly.
Robb slammed his fists on the table, bringing Bran back to the present.
"We have no proof," Robb snapped. "Naught but a misspelled letter and Sansa's word."
Bran's heart still raced, his pulse pounding in his ears. He must be brave like Sansa. He tried to speak, but his mouth was dry. Bran coughed and licked his lips, and tried again.
"We have proof."
The lords murmured amongst themselves as they gathered in the solar. Lord Eddard's bannermen had been streaming in for weeks, but Bran had not seen them all in one place before.
Robb stood beside the fire, staring into its depths as Grey Wind guarded Robb's back, the wolf's golden eyes flicking from lord to lord. Bran sat in a chair beside them, Summer at his feet. He could feel curious eyes slipping over him, wondering why the broken boy was here. Determined not to show his discomfort, Bran looked back.
Lady Mormont drew his eye first. She was one of the only women in the room, and Bran almost laughed as he wondered what Sansa and Arya would think of her. Maege Mormont was short and sturdy in her chainmail, her loose grey hair mussed by the wind. A tall woman stood beside her- Bran couldn't remember her name. Darcey? No, Dacey, Lady Mormont's heir. While Dacey also wore mail, her long black hair was up in an elegant braid. Bran had heard someone say that Lady Mormont never wed, that she claimed a bear fathered her five daughters. Arya would be bold enough to ask, but Bran needed to save all his courage for what was to come.
Greatjon Umber drew Bran's eye next. While Lady Mormont's sigil was a bear, the Greatjon was a bear. It was fitting that the Umbers had a giant for their sigil- the Greatjon was the biggest man Bran had ever seen, as tall as Hodor, but far more muscled, with a great black beard and black eyes. His heir, the Smalljon, was near as large, though with a shorter beard.
Lord Karstark, Lord Hornwood, and Lord Cerwyn stood near each other. Although Lord Rickard Karstark was distantly related to the Starks, he intimidated Bran with his gaunt face and long grey beard. His three sons were with him, all in their twenties or thirties, though it was hard to tell with their bushy brown beards. All were garbed in black with silver sunbursts.
Lord Hornwood looked garish beside the Karstarks in his orange tunic. Maester Luwin said the great horned beast on the Hornwood sigil was a bull moose. Halys Hornwood's eyes and short curls were as brown as his moose, while his heir, Daryn, had long dark blonde curls.
Lord Medger Cerwyn looked the friendliest, with his round belly and soft voice. He had not brought his son Cley, which disappointed Bran. The Cerwyns visited relatively often, and Cley, a friendly lad with an enormous grin, was around Robb's age. But Cley had been left behind at Castle Cerwyn.
Lord Bolton stood alone, but he was the one who scared Bran most. Roose Bolton had eyes so pale it was if all color had fled them. Old Nan said the old Bolton kings had flayed their enemies, until the Kings of Winter forced them to stop. Roose Bolton looked as if he could flay a man before breaking his fast.
"All are assembled, my lord," Maester Luwin finally said, and Robb turned. Despite his dark red hair and his blue eyes, Robb had never looked more like Lord Eddard, from his grave expression to the set of his shoulders.
"A letter has arrived from King's Landing, my lords," Robb began, his voice ringing like steel. "I would share its contents and hear your counsel."
The Greatjon shouted "aye", and stern Lord Karstark glanced at his sons with what Bran thought might be approval.
"This letter is writ in the hand of my sister Sansa. King Robert is dead." Though the lords began to rumble with dismay, Robb raised his hand and they fell silent.
"According to the letter, King Robert was injured while hunting. A boar gored him. The King was brought back to the Red Keep and died of his wounds."
"A boar? Kill Robert Baratheon?" Lord Hornwood said, his brow furrowed. "The King was a skilled huntsman."
Several lords murmured in agreement, then the Greatjon stepped forward. Robb's eyes shifted from Lord Hornwood to the Greatjon, weighing each man as he spoke.
"This stinks of Lannister treachery," the Greatjon growled in his deep voice.
"Aye, King Robert wanted Ned to guard his back," Lord Galbart Glover said. His hazel eyes were steady but his look was sad. His beloved wife had died not three months past, so Maester Luwin said.
"There were more Lannister men than King's men when he came to Winterfell," young Lord Condon added thoughtfully, stroking his brown mustache.
"Aye, but he was drunk when he hunted during his visit."
Several lords shook their heads, but none disputed Lord Cerwyn's soft words. Lord Cerwyn was known for being a keen hunter, and he had joined the king frequently for hunts during his visit to Winterfell.
"No matter the cause of King Robert's death, the Lannisters could hardly claim him to be dead if he were not," Maege Mormont said briskly.
Almost in unison the lords turned to Robb, who held the letter in his hand.
"Well said, my lady." Robb inclined his head. "The letter has more dire news than the king's death. It claims that as soon as the King passed, my father attempted to give the crown to Stannis Baratheon, and the Lannisters name Lord Eddard Stark a traitor."
"Ned, a traitor?" The Greatjon roared. The other lords shared his fury in silence as hands leapt to swords, teeth clenched, eyes flashing. All except Roose Bolton, whose pale eyes were as flat as ever.
"And writ in his daughter's hand," Bolton said softly. The Greatjon growled under his breath, and Robb shot the man a sharp look.
"Lady Sansa is eleven years old and surrounded by enemies. Doubtless the Lannisters forced her to write it." Maester Luwin's chain clinked as he spoke.
"Aye, women are frail, and girls-" the Greatjon closed his mouth at the twitch of Robb's eyebrow, and Maege and Dacey Mormont turned to glare at the Greatjon, their chainmail clinking.
"Nor is that all," Robb said, his voice cool. "The letter summons myself and Lady Catelyn Stark to King's Landing to swear fealty to King Joffrey, and perhaps they shall spare Lord Eddard's life and wed Lady Sansa to the king."
The lords began shouting. Robb listened, his face impassive, while Grey Wind and Summer sat on their haunches, teeth bared. At last the lords quieted, and Robb continued.
"And yet there is more news to share, news that Sansa risked her life to send. A coded message was in the letter. Maester Luwin, if you would."
Maester Luwin stepped forward, the parchment in his hand.
"Arya missing," Luwin said clearly.
"Escaped, or killed?"
"Dead, surely."
"A girl of 9, escape the Red Keep?"
"If any child could do it, Arya Underfoot could," Lord Cerwyn said. Lord Karstark and Lord Glover shook their heads, their eyes grave.
Maester Luwin cleared his throat. "Joff sent catspaw."
"What?"
"The Imp-"
"Lady Catelyn was certain-"
Grey Wind gave a low warning growl, and the lords fell silent. The maester cleared his throat.
"What was the code?" Lord Karstark's eyes were hollow and dark.
"I taught Lady Sansa her letters, as I taught all Lord Eddard's children," Maester Luwin said. "She excelled in penmanship and spelling. Yet half the words in this letter are misspelled. When each word is spelt correctly, the missing letters revealed the message."
"I like it not," Eddard Karstark said.
"A child might spell words wrong for many reasons," Torrhen Karstark agreed.
"Perhaps, but words misspelled at random would not result in such a clear message," Roose Bolton said, to Bran's surprise.
"There was more," Maester Luwin said. He inhaled slowly, the parchment trembling in his hands.
"Joffrey son of Jaime."
The room erupted as voices cried out in shock and in fury. A few spat on the floor in disgust.
"Incest!"
"Treason!"
"An abomination!"
"Do they think they are Targaryens?"
Robb let them have a moment, then raised his hand for quiet.
"What proof have we, other than the misspelled words of a little girl?" Roose Bolton's eyes were colder than winter.
"Lady Sansa was delighted with her betrothal to the prince- she would never claim such a thing unless she were certain," Lord Cerwyn said hesitantly.
"Is that what we shall tell the lords of the Riverlands?" Maege Mormont demanded. Robb shook his head, grim as the crypts.
"Lord Cerwyn and Lady Mormont speak truly. We must have further proof."
Robb rested a hand on Bran's shoulder, and the lords stared at Bran.
"I saw them," Bran said, trying to keep his voice steady.
"You, boy? Yet you said nothing?" The Greatjon asked, his deep voice skeptical. Somehow his doubt gave Bran courage.
"I couldn't remember until the letter," Bran said, meeting the Greatjon's dark eyes. Summer nuzzled Bran's hand, and Bran took a deep breath.
"The day I fell, I was climbing the First Keep. I heard voices in the broken tower. It was a man and a woman, speaking about how they didn't want father to be Hand, and they hoped the king would die soon. I was scared, but I had to see who was talking, so I climbed closer."
Bran took another deep breath. The lords were hanging on his every word, but he was not afraid.
"When I looked through the window I saw a naked man and a woman. They were kissing and touching each other all over." Bran couldn't help making a face. Maester Luwin had explained coupling to him after they spoke earlier, and it seemed very awkward and messy.
"I recognized the Queen, then she saw me and screamed. I slipped, but I caught myself on the window ledge. And then Ser Jaime pushed me out the window."
All were silent for a moment, as though the entire world held its breath. The Greatjon was first to break the silence.
"So, this is why they call Ned a traitor," the Greatjon said, his low voice like the roll of thunder.
"He must have learned of it," Lord Hornwood said.
"Your sister Sansa is brave indeed," Lady Mormont said, her hand gripping the spiked mace she wore at her side.
"A true wolf," the Greatjon said, as though he had not called all women frail not five minutes ago.
Robb squeezed Bran's shoulder, as though seeking comfort, and began to speak.
"My father taught me that a true lord hears his bannermen before he acts. I seek your counsel, my lords and ladies, as Lord Eddard sought your counsel after the Mad King slew my grandfather and my uncle."
One at a time, Robb heard the lords. Greatjon Umber wanted to gather a great host, besiege King's Landing, and demand the surrender of Lord Stark and his daughter. Lord Cerwyn urged patience, advising that they march for Riverrun and await more news. Lord Karstark would have none of it. They should move quickly, before the Lannisters could make alliances against them.
The North was spread thin, and the ironborn would surely grow restless with Robert dead, Lord Galbart Glover pointed out. Should they not keep some strength here, in case the ironborn attacked? The Flints and Mormonts agreed with Lord Glover, as their lands were oft the targets of ironborn raids. For the first time, Bran noticed that Theon was standing near Maester Luwin, his usual smirk gone as the lords discussed the treachery of the ironborn.
Nor could the lords agree how to respond to the news of Joffrey's parentage. Smalljon Umber wanted to send ravens to every great house spreading the news and denouncing Joffrey. Lord Cerwyn proposed sending a raven to Stannis Baratheon before arousing Lannister fury. Lord Hornwood thought the matter could wait until they had Ned back safe and sound. The Karstarks disagreed, proposing that they march south, take Tywin Lannister captive, and then trade him for Ned.
Roose Bolton spoke last. He urged that Robb send a raven south seeking peace, but on northern terms. First, the letter should recount the disturbing claims made by Brandon Stark. Then, Robb should say he hesitated to believe the word of a crippled boy, but his doubts would be laid to rest forever by the safe return of Lord Stark. Once Eddard was safely returned home, the North could choose how to proceed at their leisure. Bran wondered if Robb noticed that Bolton made no mention of Sansa or Arya.
"Such a letter is no better than blackmail," said Robb, troubled. "And it is a lie. Bran may not be able to walk, but his mind is sharp as ever, and Sansa's letter confirms the truth. My father would not have me save his life by throwing away all honor."
"Well said," the Greatjon boomed. "A northman does not negotiate with false kings."
"Yet I would not throw away my father or my sister's lives by acting in haste," Robb said slowly.
"Our plan was to march south, free the Riverlands from the Lannisters, and demand the return of Lord Eddard and my sister. We cannot march on King's Landing without marching through the Riverlands, and we cannot abandon my mother's and my grandfather's people to be slaughtered. Let us join our strength to the strength of the Riverlands and set our terms at swordpoint."
The lords had listened quietly as Robb spoke. Now, they roared with approval.
"We'll send the lions running for Casterly Rock," Daryn Hornwood said eagerly.
"Aye, and bring Ned home!" The Greatjon bellowed.
"And Lady Sansa," Dacey Mormont added.
"What about Arya?" Bran whispered, hoping he wasn't shaming himself.
The Greatjon strode forward, bending almost in half so he could clap an enormous hand on Bran's shoulder.
"We'll bring them all home."