Cassana
For all her disgust with House Swann, Cassana could not deny the majesty and beauty of Stonehelm.
It was an ancient stronghold, older than Blackhaven by far, and possibly older than any other castle in the Dornish Marches. It stood on a plateau overlooking the Slayne, a mighty river which formed a natural border between the marches and Cape Wrath. The Swanns had established their castle where the river met the Sea of Dorne, at the end of a sizable bay. It was a place of great strategic importance, one which had served House Swann well for untold years, be it against the Dornish, the armies of the Reach, or even other stormlords.
Half the castle was made of black stone, and the other half was made with white. Whomever had designed and built the castle had been very careful to give Stonehelm an almost perfectly symmetrical design.
It was difficult to say if the castle's appearance inspired House Swann's sigil, or if it was the other way around, but whatever the case, Stonehelm was often hailed as the strongest of the marcher lords' castles. Some said that House Swann was the second most powerful house in the Stormlands after the Baratheons. Certainly, they were not a house to be trifled with, even by other marchers.
Cassana beheld the castle as she rode alongside Baldric. Her sons were further back in their retinue, surrounded by a dozen of House Dondarrion's best warriors. There was little threat to travellers now that Dorne was in the fold, but Cassana was less concerned about outlaws and more about the folk whom she was going to meet inside Stonehelm.
Just where the bay river met the bay, a mighty bridge had been built over the Slayne, complete with a guard tower and other fortifications. Guards still stood at their posts, and a delegation of Swann soldiers stood on the western end of the bridge, ready to greet the newcomers flying the banner of the lightning lord.
At the front of this delegation was a man who resembled Baldric so closely that their kinship was indisputable.
"Raymont," Baldric remarked in a simple greeting.
"Lord Dondarrion," Raymont answered, "and Lady Dondarrion. I welcome you to Stonehelm." His tone suggested the opposite, and Cassana did not even deign him a false smile.
Raymont Swann urged his horse forward, peering at the two boys who stared back at their uncle with barely any recognition, let alone affection. "I trust your sons are in good health?"
"Far as I know," Baldric replied. It was clear that he meant to sound affable, but he instead sounded confused. Cassana seethed inwardly, but knew that she must not make him look any weaker than he already did.
"How is our father?" Baldric asked of Raymont.
"Father?" Raymont repeated. "Who might that father be? I am of the house of Swann, not Dondarrion."
The soldiers under Raymont snickered amongst themselves, but quietly enough that Baldric had no choice but to ignore it.
It was too much for Cassana to bear. She spurred her horse so that it gave a whinny of alarm. "That is the fabled courtesy of Stonehelm, is it? Or are you impatient to collect your toll?" She reached into her purse, pulled out a silver stag, and cast it towards Raymont as if he were a beggar. The coin landed with a loud ting, bouncing off a stone near the hooves of Raymont's horse.
Raymont's skin flushed at Cassana's scorn, and his jaw twitched dangerously, "Mayhaps the toll will be that wagging tongue, woman."
Cassana tossed her head in scorn. "First you asked for my hand, now my tongue. Both belong to my husband, and he was always worth five of you."
"Mind yourself!" Baldric interjected. "We have come a long way, and we are not here to argue."
Cassana stared at him, her surprise rapidly giving way to indignance. While he might have otherwise quailed, he returned her glare with anger of his own.
Raymont, whose hand had gone to his sword hilt, regarded them for a moment, but then he wheeled his horse around and began to cross the bridge without looking back to see if the Dondarrions would follow.
Cassana wished she had kept her temper, but it had always felt so good to wipe the arrogant, self-satisfied smirks from those Swanns' faces. The gods know that Baldric won't ever be able to do it for me, either.
The procession proceeded across the bridge, up the pathway, and into the mighty castle. Cassana did not fail to note that the banners of many stormlords were already flying within Stonehelm, even though most of them lived further away than Blackhaven. We are were invited last, that is plain. These men go to great lengths to insult our house.
This time, Cassana kept her anger to herself, putting on an air of cold civility as she was parted from her horse and escorted into the main keep.
Lord Gawen Swann awaited the Dondarrion arrivals in the great hall. It was debatable whether or not the Swanns had once been petty kings, but it was mostly idle speculation. Whatever the case, the Swanns kept no ancient throne from the old days, much to Cassana's relief.
Gawen was not yet old, but nor was he young either. His hair and beard were streaked with grey, but he was still lean and fit. Beside him stood his younger brother, Alfred, as did Eward, Cedrik, and Raymont, the first three of his four sons. Like Baldric, they had all inherited their father's light brown hair, but while Baldric was tall and well-built, his older brothers had inherited the broad shoulders and stormy blue eyes of their mother, a woman of House Baratheon.
Also in the hall were the assembled stormlords whose banners had been noted by Cassana. Cafferen, Caron, Musgood, Bolling, Grandison, Lonmouth, Cole, Mertyns, Peasebury and Morrigen were all represented in the hall. Even the Kellingtons were present, and they looked with askance at Ser Maynard, who bore a wooden expression on his face, paying no heed to his kin. This room contains men who together wield half the manpower of the entire Stormlands.
Baldric stepped forward, clad in the black and purple of House Dondarrion. He had debated whether or not to quarter his sigil, but Cassana had dissuaded him. Show your father any sort of weakness, and he will exploit it to no end. Cassana knew full well that there would be no pleasing Lord Gawen, whatever Baldric did.
"Greetings, Father," he declared, giving him a respectful nod. "It is is good to see you again."
Lord Gawen returned the nod grudgingly, but he said nothing. He might as well have looked upon a foreigner from Yi Ti rather than his own son.
"Lord Dondarrion," Gawen replied solemnly, but he took care to emphasise the name so that all might perceive his malicious intent.
"Your grandsons," Baldric persisted in a strained voice. His sons stepped forward. Manfred was old enough to compose himself with quiet dignity, but Caspor was afraid and homesick, and he could not meet the eyes of the Swanns without weeping. Wordlessly, a Dondarrion handmaid picked Caspor up and comforted him softly.
Gawen regarded the boys without any affection. "You bring your boys, then. I hear that you also have others to present before us."
Immediately, the twins Falia and Jocelyn emerged from the small group of Dondarrions, curtsying with an elegance that this hall did not deserve to bear. Their orange-red hair was elegantly braided, their capes and dresses were purple and black, and their faces were held up proudly. Cassana felt a surge of pride as her beautiful cousins gave way so that Kyra Penny and Bella Sawyer could curtsy as well.
Cassana sensed an especially malevolent eye upon her. She turned her head and recognised Tyana's brothers. The white fawns of House Cafferen were on their surcoats, their hair was brown and curly just as hers had been, and they all bore the same baleful expression which Tyana had always worn so easily. They stood with their wives and children, unmistakably glowering at her with loathing, so much so that Cassana felt uneasy and afraid. How much do they know? How much could they know?
Gawen turned and gestured to a servant, who presented gifts of bread and salt to the Dondarrion party. Cassana took her portion without comment or complaint; it was the first real bit of welcome that they had received since coming to Stonehelm.
"The day is waning," Gawen remarked when all had taken their helpings. "Go now to your rooms and settle in before dinner. The hunt will commence tomorrow."
There were no aurochs this time, but there was more than enough game without those great beasts. House Swann's lands encompassed the eaves of the mighty Rainwood. Cassana had visited it many times whilst living with Baldric in Stonehelm, and it was a common occurrance to find a tree, especially among the oaks and redwoods, which had been standing there since before the Targaryens had ever built Dragonstone. And one could only guess how long the weirwoods had been there.
"This will solve nothing," Cassana observed sullenly when she and Baldric were alone together. "We were fools to come."
Baldric said nothing, nor did he meet her eyes. He sat on one side of the bed, his face turned to the window. The sunset was a massive display of gold and orange against the wild mass of the distant Rainwood.
"Lord Dondarrion," Baldric quietly murmured.
Cassana paused, registering her husband's state for the first time since she entered the room. She had rarely seen him look so morose and defeated. Gawen will answer for this.
Quietly, Cassana slipped out of the room and made her way to where her sons were staying.
"Come and sit with your father and I," she told Manfred and Caspor. Thankfully, they were both young enough to ask no questions, but simply follow her back to her chambers.
Baldric gave a start when Manfred and Caspor ran towards him and embraced him. But he smiled again as he held them in his arms.
"Will we come on the hunt?" Manfred asked him eagerly.
"Mayhaps," Baldric answered uncertainly. He did not wish to say that Caspor was too young, and Manfred would be lucky if he was permitted to join.
"I must speak to the maester," Cassana announced, "I will return when that business is finished."
Baldric looked up at her, "Are you ill?"
"A woman's complaint," Cassana replied.
She made her way through the castle as silently as she could. She would not sit meekly in her chamber whilst the other lords conspired against her. She had sensed it as soon as she saw the banners of those already in attendance. House Caron went around our lands to reach Stonehelm, for we had no word of their travels. They have been here for at least several days longer than us. No doubt all the others were here too. But why? What are they planning?
If she hoped to overhear the plotters, that hope was in vain. With a head full of curses, she returned to her chamber, shooing her sons out so that they might prepare themselves for dinner.
"Did the maester help you?" Baldric asked as he changed into dinner clothes.
"Aye," Cassana lied.
"*" *"*"* "*"* "* "*"*"* "*"*"* "*"*"*"*"*
Cassana's suspicions were proved once again when she re-entered the great hall for dinner. Lord Gawen had saved two seats for Baldric and Cassana near his own, which meant that Cassana sat beside Lord Tommax Cafferen.
She had only met Tommax three times in her life. The first was when he had come to Blackhaven in order to marry her. She had had no interest in marrying a man twelve years older than her, much less a man who blew his nose without turning his face away at table, or who had talked of his three bastard children as proof of his virility. The second time was the wedding of her brother to his sister, when he had drunkenly groped her during a dance. The third time was at Storm's End, when he had attempted to claim that her execution of his sister was unlawful. Each encounter had been more uncomfortable and nettlesome than the last.
"You are looking well," Lord Cafferen observed as she sat down.
He says that as though his parents told him to say it. Cassana nodded curtly in response; she did not trust herself to speak with politeness to this man.
The first course was already being served. Cassana accepted a bowl of mutton stew, mainly because eating would excuse her from having to speak.
On the other side of Tommax sat his wife. A daughter of Ser Alfred Swann, she was only sixteen or seventeen by the looks of her. She kept her eyes to herself and stayed quiet. Cassana pitied her.
Her father sat nearby. Ser Alfred Swann was very much a man who would consider Tommax a worthy husband. He was an uncouth brute of a man who believed that prowess of arms was the only way to measure a man's worth. A woman's worth was measured in many ways, meanwhile, and most women failed to match his standards. Between Alfred and Tommax, that poor girl never stood a chance.
"Is there any word from your sister, Lady Dondarrion?"
The question took Cassana by surprise. She looked up from her stew at Lady Millicent Bolling, the woman who had spoken. She sat across from Cassana beside her husband, Lord Helos, who was also regarding her with unfriendly eyes.
The Bollings were descended from a bastard son of the Durrandon line. From what Cassana had learned, the first Bolling had secured the right to build a castle due to exemplary service during some war with the Yronwood kings. They had grown in strength and power since then, counted among the more powerful of the stormlords. Ironically, the connection to House Durrandon which had once been their source of pride was now their source of shame among the elite families of the Stormlands. Just like the Swanns, the Bollings were often prickly about their honour, resentful of others' success, and slow to forget an insult.
"Excuse me?" Cassana asked.
"Your sister," Lady Millicent repeated in a coldly polite tone. "How is our Princess of Dragonstone?"
Cassana felt her stomach twisting. She and Jena had never been close when they had lived together, and distance had only deepened the rift between them. She had not spoken long with Jena at her wedding to Prince Baelor. After that, Baldric and Cassana had gone to Dragonstone only one time since then, and she strongly suspected that the invitation had come from Baelor rather than Jena herself. There hadn't been an opportunity for them to visit Blackhaven, but Cassana also hadn't pressed the matter very hard either.
"By all accounts, she is doing well," she answered airily. "Her son is a worthy heir to his father." She hoped that nobody would ask her to elaborate on that, for she could barely remember Valarr's name, let alone what he even looked like.
"Such a shame that she does not return home for a visit," Lord Helos drawled.
"On the contrary. I believe she regularly visits Dragonstone, Lord Helos," Cassana explained innocently. The look on his face put her in a much better mood, even as she added a helping of spinach to her plate.
Lady Millicent was quickly on the attack again. "And what of your brother?"
Cassana took a large mouthful of food and chewed with much more deliberation than was required. She could see that others were following the conversation - including Lord Alfred and Lord Tommax - and it was clear as day that they were enjoying themselves hugely.
It had taken some time for Titus' disappearance to be noticed, even by Cassana. She had not stayed long in King's Landing after her business with Titus was resolved, and she had feigned ignorance when the summons came to Baldric just a week after she returned to Blackhaven. It was at Storm's End where Lord Baratheon had officially declared Baldric Swann to become Baldric Dondarrion, by order of the king. From there, the gossip and calumnies had swept over the Stormlands like rainwater. Titus' absence made it worse, especially with the execution of Tyana in Blackhaven. Lord Baratheon had felt the need to bring Cassana and Baldric back to Storm's End in order to resolve the latter, but the former was still a mystery. Even Cassana did not fully understand what had happened until Jena had showed him the letter he'd left behind. Cassana had been greatly surprised that Titus hadn't disclosed her role in the murder of Maester Gerold; it had been mostly about his murder of Father and why he had done it.
Thus, Cassana was able to feign ignorance and share in Jena's outrage and grief over what their brother had done, and she had offered to pray to the gods to forgive Titus' kinslaying. It had confirmed to her, however, that Jena had been innocent of the entire affair, or else she was an incredible actress.
"I have not heard anything from Ser Titus in quite some time," Cassana replied when her mouth was full. "I pray for his safety each night."
"But do you know what has befallen him, at least?" Lady Millicent pressed. "One hears such wicked things that it is difficult to parse out the truth."
"Indeed," Ser Alfred interjected, "I just heard the other day that Titus is languishing up at the Wall."
"For what crime?" Lord Tommax asked, grinning at his goodfather. Is there even ten years between them?
It was as if they were carrying out some sort of jape at Cassana's expense. They suggested various ideas for why Titus might be gone, any one of which would be considered scandalous. Cassana said little, smiling icily at whatever they said, content that she did not have to speak up during their mirth. They think I am affected by my brother. I divorced myself from Titus a long time ago, they will have to do better than that.
Beside her, Baldric was also silent, looking embarrassed as he ate more food than he normally would have done. Cassana could sense, however, that beneath his bewilderment and disconcertion, there was a curiosity which made him listen carefully to all that was said. Cassana was reminded of how much he had speculated why the king had made him Lord of Blackhaven, and why Titus had relinquished his claim. Cassana had always feigned ignorance to him, never daring to reveal even a part of the reason. It was the first time that Cassana understood Titus's decision to hide the truth from Jena so thoroughly, only she knew that she would never be so stupid as to confess the truth to Baldric, not for any reason.