Review Responses

Shade: I will not have Eddard marry Catelyn. I feel like he would be a lot happier with Ashera and I think it would be really fun to write about her character. I will have the Greystark's help Eddard, so he doesn't fall to Hoster's manipulations to marry one of his daughters.

Chapter 7

Brandon Greystark POV

Brandon looked upon the gathering army of Northmen from the window of his solar. He and Barthogan had called upon the men of White Harbor and the surrounding villages for the upcoming campaign. At most he could guess from the reports of both Maester Roderick and his brother Barthogan that they had around 4,000 men. He turned his attention from the window back to the stack of papers that sat upon his desk. The stack seemed to be ever growing with reports and letters. Brandon could only sigh in exhaustion as he needed to get these addressed before they could sail off. As if to answer his prayers his youngest son Wylis entered his solar.

Wylis was the shortest of his three sons only standing at 5 feet 4 inches. His family had joked in the past that he would always be the height of a crannogmen and Wylis grew to embrace this. Wylis would gain the nickname Crannog Wyl from the servants and even the populace of White Harbor. His son had also inherited the grey eyes of their house though they seemed more of a duller grey than the steely eyes the Greystarks were known to have inherited from the Starks. Wylis had a lanky build which only made him seem smaller along with his short height. Wylis had the pale skin of all Northerners and shared the long face of all Greystarks.

His son had long midnight black hair that cascaded down to his upper back. The length of Wylis's hair always infuriated Brandon as it could be used against Wylis in combat though his son would never participate in one. Where most men of their house's history were great warriors and tacticians Wylis went against the norm. Wylis had been sent to the Citadel to become a maester in his younger years though before being sworn into the order he had left and returned home. In Wylis's own words he could not forth go the loyalty he held for his house and family. If there was one quality Brandon loved in his son besides his intelligence was the loyalty he had. Wylis, while never sworn to become a maester, still carried the links he had forged.

Wylis had earned the links for ravenry (black-iron), accounting (gold), pale steel (smithing), steel (construction), healing (silver), steel (construction), iron (warcraft), history (copper), astronomy (bronze), and lead (poisons). Instead of wearing his chain around his neck Wylis had decided to wear them as one would wear a belt. The different sheens of the metals would always drive Brandon wild as it would clash with the grey and white of his sons doublet and black of the trousers he wore. Wylis drew closer to his father with a cynical smirk as his dull grey eyes looked upon the stack of papers.

"Father I would never have guessed you'd be one to shirk your duties? Has your eyesight also gone in your old age", said Wylis sarcastically as he appeared in front of his father.

With a booming laugh Brandon said to his son, "Ha one day someone will cut out that tongue of yours, so we do not have to suffer your barbs".

With a loud guffaw Wylis replied, "That day will never come to pass. Who will keep everyone's with sharp without my cleverness being hear".

With a snort that no one but his family would hear Brandon gazed into the shrewd eyes of Wylis. All he could feel in the moment was a sense of exasperation. "If you have the nerve to mouth off to your liege you have the energy to help me with these papers boy".

"Aye I'll help though I won't enjoy it. While I have the knowledge and knowhow of a maester I do not work for free like them. I expect some compensation for my time. Maybe you can pay for my next visit to the brothel", joked Wylis as his eyes crinkled playfully.

Brandon would never say it to anyone, but he would always find jesting with Wylis a godsend. Even though he may be ill and weakening as more time passes by, he would appreciate Wylis still treating him like he wouldn't fold over from a light breeze. With a shake of his head, he gave Wylis a few of the documents to look over. Wylis grabbed them gently as he started to look through some of them. Brandon had given his son forms of the ships they would have to relinquish to use while at war and some forms of the current financial status of their house.

"Now shut that mouth of yours and go over those documents. We need to get everything prepared before your brothers return alongside our vassals. We have received word from Lord Sunderland that Lord Stark has made it to the Three Sisters", said Brandon as his eyes grew more focused.

"Oh, and how do you know this my Lord. I would have thought the Sistermen would have notified Lord Arryn instead of us", said Wylis as his eyes grew inquisitive at this revelation.

"That's a secret between Lord Sunderland and I boy, just focus on doing your job", said Brandon as he leafed through some papers.

Barthogan POV

Barthogan could feel each blow from his opponent's ax as it continued to be slammed into his shield repetitively. He could only let out a scoff as he side-stepped his opponents next blow which allowed him to get behind them. With a thunderous roar that bellowed out of his throat Barthogan charged with his shield raised and barreled into his opponent. The blow from his shield uprooted them and caused them to fly a little before they crashed into the snow that was littered around the training grounds. With a deep sigh Barthogan could only gaze at his opponent disapprovingly. Brandon had tasked him to train up the town guard before they left the city. In his opinion, while they could keep the peace and enforce the laws the guards themselves would do terrible in war. 'These green boys and soft men are no better than common levies. If we called upon them in case we needed the men they'll be slaughtered', thought Barthogan. That thought left a bad taste in his mouth as he could picture the crows gorging themselves after such a slaughter.

With a shake of his head, he bellowed out to the next guardsman, "Oye boy your next. I expect you to keep your wits about you while we spar. I've got to make men out of you before we march to war".

The young man could only gulp loudly as he tightened his grip on his shield and ax. The young man could only reply with an, "Aye", before he moved into the sparring ring.

Barthogans grey eyes narrowed to hardened steel as it seemed like the boy had some spine in him. He figured he'd let the lad have the first move. The guardsman slowly circled around Barthogan as he slowly loosened up his defensive form to bait his opponent. That seemed to be what drove the guardsman to move as he rushed Barthogan with a shield bash. His eyes slowly widened up a bit at the ballsy move. His left hand holding his kite shield was raised in preparation as he widened his stance and dug his feet further into the ground. 'Aye this will do. I've been waiting for someone to have some balls on them', thought Barthogan as his lips grew into a feral smile. Finally, he had a challenge. He was growing tired of roughly handling the men.

The young guardsmen grew closer and before both shields impacted let loose a startling roar of his own as their shields collided. The force of the collusion drove Barthogan back as his feral smile grew to show his white teeth turning into a snarl. "Aye that's it lad keep up your momentum. Either power through with the bash or attack with your ax", said Barthogan.

The young guardsman eyes grew wide at the compliment. The striking blue of them seemed to grow excited as the guardsman leaped back into the fight. With a strong swipe of his ax, he continued his assault. Barthogan could feel a stinging pain in his arm with each consecutive blow that struck his shield. With a hearty laugh he decided to go on the offensive now.

"Good show boy but I grow tired of being your training dummy. Now it's my turn to try and whack you good", yelled Barthogan. He swung his own ax that the guardsman barely blocked with his shield.

"Good that's good keep that shield up. Never let your opponent see any openings in your defense", said Barthogan as he continued to strike the shield. Barthogan could see past the worn paint of the shield and see small splinters flying with each strike of his ax. 'I haven't felt this exhilarated in a long time. Maybe this boy will be more of a challenge than I thought'.

Barthogan decided to change his strike and went with an overhead strike that dug deep into the shield, but he grew surprised as instead of keeping the shield the guardsman let go. With a few steps the guardsman was to the right of Barthogan. He tried to close the distance between them as he swung his ax.

With a bellowing laugh Barthogan soon swung his shield around to block the strike as his stance once more shifted to face the incoming blow. His arm once again stung with the heavy blow against his shield as the ax went deep into it. Barthogan soon dropped his shield and tackled the guardsman to the ground. The young man, still shocked by Barthogans reckless action, went down into the snow with a thud. All the man could see was the steel grey eyes of Barthogan looking at him like a wolf would at prey.

His breath was stuck in his chest as he grew a little terrified at the wolfish eyes that studied him. They trailed up and down his body and lingered at his face. The young man could picture a wolf ready to bite down on his neck as the large Greystark soon opened his maw.

"You'll do nicely boy", said Barthogan as he got off the boy.

"What's your name lad? I want to know how you got so good with that axe", said Barthogan.

"My name's Jerrod milord. My Pa trained me before he passed", said Jerrod.

"Your Pa a man-at-arms? If you're this good I'm going to move you into our more professional forces".

"Thank you milord and I'd like that. I'm a bit tired of staying in the city if I can be honest", said Jerrod enthusiastically at the thought of being promoted.

"Aye I thought you might. With skills like yours they'd be going to waste while others went to war. I'll have you work under me. In the meantime, try and get these other town guards trained up a bit. I need to see to my duties", said Barthogan,

"Aye I will milord. Come on men I'm going to run you through some drills", yelled out Jerrod as he moved to direct the men.

With that business shorted out and the training of the guards off his shoulders Barthogan made his way into his solar close to the barracks of the training ground. The journey was short as he moved briskly to the small office. While it would never compare to Lord's solar his office was still a step up from the offices of the army officers. He soon arrived at his thick oaken door and with a heave he opened it up. He made his way to the pile of papers on his deck and prepared to look over them. He could already see the requisition forms for more armor and arms, the reports of the total number of men prepared to leave, and the number of ships they'd need to requisition from the merchants.

He could gladly say that they at the moment had 4,000 armored and armed men ready for war. Brandon had called him to oversee the mustering of their forces from the city itself. They had called upon 2,000 heavy infantry, 800 light infantry, 600 archers, and 600 asteroid light and heavy cavalry for their army. At the moment they also call upon the 50 assorted war ships they had in port alongside the needed troop and supply transport for their army. Though that number would be expanded to carry the levies and professional forces of their vassals.

As he was about to go through a few more of the documents there was a knock on his door. He slowly took his eyes off the documents and with a deep sigh from getting interrupted he could only say, "Enter".

With his door opening he could feel a light breeze from the sudden action and could only gaze at his son Theon in surprise. His son had taken after him a lot as it was like looking into a mirror. His son shared the same imposing build and height as him. Theon stood at six feet and eight inches tall with broad shoulders and arms. Though he did not have a gut like Barthogan. That would be something he would always be jealous of. His son shared the same steel grey eyes and long face of their house though his face was more aquiline in shape. Theon kept his hair very short; it would look like he had only a thin lining of hair from a distance rather than the fuzz it looked like to Barthogan. His son never seemed to enjoy having a beard as he was always clean shaven. It did nothing either to hide the rough scar that went from Theon's left cheek down all the way to his neck. Barthogan would always remember the day that his son received it from pirates that had attacked the trading fleet they were on. With some small feeling of regret Barthogan motioned for his son to close the door.

"What brings you to my office, Theon? I thought you were still at the Wolf's Den looking after both Fredder and Joremund", questioned Barthogan.

"They are still there, Father. I was ordered to let you know that we will be departing soon to the seat of House Sunderland. Lord Brandon has given the order to leave as soon as possible. Lord Eddard has arrived at the islands", said Theon dispassionately.

With a look of shock on his face, Barthogan jumped out of his chair. He soon made his way to the door of his solar and swung it open. He could only think of one thing at the moment, 'Finally we can make our move. We can finally strike against those blasted Targaryens'. Barthogan was joined by Theon as they made their way through the barracks and past the training ground.

"Theon have the men been informed about the departure?", questioned Barthogan.

"Aye they have. All the men are on the ships as we speak. We only need to join them, and we'll be off at once", said Theon as he matched his father's brisk pace.

The walk to the docks was not far since the barracks and training ground for the professional men-at-arms and career soldiers was stationed there in case of an attack by see. The barracks of the town guard was closer to the walls and even had a secondary barracks in New Castle for the soldiers under the control of the main branch of House Greystark, The decision to have multiple areas for the soldiers throughout the city and fortifications was designed in mind for their forces to act rapidly or be deployed in multiple areas in case of an attack and to not have all the forces in one place.

Barthogan and Theon had made good time as they could see the last preparations of the fleet being conducted as they arrived at the docks. He could see the gleaming armor of their houses heavy infantry and even the assorted armor of their other forces as they went around the decks of the ships helping do the final preparations. With a feeling of renewed energy Barthogan and Theon made their way up the gangplank and onto their flagship the Raging Wolf. As soon as they got to the deck the sailors moved the gangplank back onto the ship.

With a deep breath Barthogan let loose a thundering command, "All men prepare to depart and head south. We move to the Three Sisters". The men around Barthogan double timed their last minute preparations as the other ships followed. Soon the assorted dromonds, carracks, longships, cogs and supply ships departed the port of White Harbor. All the ships sported the bowing black direwolf of their house on a field of white. The ships would make their journey to the Three Sister's and finally rendezvous with their liege lord.

Author's Note: I hope this does not seemed too rushed I just really wanted to move the story along so we can see more of Eddard and even see his interactions with House Greystark. I do not know when I'll be able to update this or any other of my stories since I'll be busy with work for a few weeks. Please leave a review and I hope everyone enjoys the holiday today.