Cassana

It was the third day of hunting in the Rainwood. They had already brought down half a dozen wild boar and several fine stags.

Cassana had no interest in participating in these blood sports. She stayed behind at the camps with many of the other ladies, though by the third day, she was beginning to regret her choice. None of the ladies openly insulted or snubbed her, but it was nevertheless clear that Cassana was not welcome. Lady Millicent was the ringleader of these women, as well as Lady Estella, a lady of House Musgood who'd married Halfred, Tyana's surviving middle brother.

Before she had married Lord Helos Bolling, Millicent had been a Swann. Between her kin and her snobbish husband, Millicent managed to make herself Cassana's least favourite of her husband's family. No small feat. As for Estella, she could grudgingly understand why that woman was against her, though she found it ironic how Tyana had never mentioned her once while living at Blackhaven. Not for love, but for appearances and for some foolish principle. That, and pure pigheaded pride.

At one point, Cassana sat beneath a tree to avoid a passing squall over their heads. She sat beside her cousin Falia. "Mayhaps it would have been better if you and your sister had stayed home," she murmured bitterly.

"But then you would have been alone," Falia pointed out.

Cassana shook her head, "I can look after myself amongst these witches. But they will paint us alike with the same brush."

"They would do so no matter how far away we were," Falia retorted.

Cassana had nothing to say in that regard. Instead, she began listening to the conversation being carried out nearby between two young ladies of House Mertyns and House Lonmouth.

"The new year will be announced next month! Has there been any news of celebrations?"

"Not that I have heard, but the Baratheons must surely hold a feast."

"Mayhaps it would be better to go to King's Landing instead. I do hope the king hosts another tourney!"

There was a pause, and though Cassana pretended to ignore the two women, she could tell that they were both glancing at her. They must think I have some news about the king from Jena. Poor fools. She gave them a moment, curious to see if their pride was stronger than their curiosity.

Finally, Lady Marigold Lonmouth, a slender woman close to Falia's age, hesitantly called to Cassana.

Feigning surprise at being called, Cassana gave a polite smile, "Yes?"

"If you would be so good to tell us," Marigold spoke, "might you know anything about the new year celebrations?"

Cassana was tempted to lie, but she knew that was too risky.

"Sadly, no," Cassana answered. "But I will be writing my sister shortly, and I shall certainly ask. Might you come visit Blackhaven, then I can share whatever I learn."

"That sounds lovely," Marigold answered. "I hope my parents will take you up on that offer."

Cassana had expected that answer. Marigold was too much a slave to courtesy, and the rules of etiquette. To refuse Cassana in public was unheard of, but Cassana could not glean whether she spoke sincerely or not. But Marigold had learned the craft well; Cassana could not glean whether she spoke earnestly or was simply a good liar.

Just then, there were several shouts from another part of the camp. Boys were crying out, and Cassana could sense that something was amiss.

Driven by some sense of foreboding, she hurried out from under the trees, past several gaudy tents, only to stop before one of the main fire pits.

Manfred, her eldest son, had been allowed on the hunts after all, though he was deemed too young to join his father on the hunts. Instead, he stayed behind with his mother, utterly disappointed at being left out. Moreover, he was not getting along with the other boys, for they seemed to imbibe their parents' resentments.

Now the ill will had erupted beneath gentle summer rain. Three boys were were crying out in shrill voices, including her own son. He sat in the grass, and his clothes were stained with mud. Two other boys were nearby. One had a hand over his nose; blood was seeping through his fingers and he was wailing shrilly. The other was weeping too, as small boys were wont to do after a fight, and his tunic was torn at one of the sleeves.

Despite her mounting outrage Cassana knew that she needed to keep a level head; she must not make more enemies. So it was with a tightly clenched jaw that she knelt beside her son and lifted him up.

"What happened?"

"They pushed me!" Manfred shrieked, glaring at her through red eyes.

"Why?" Cassana hated herself for asking her son that question, but she could well imagine what trouble this had begun. The more she knew about what had happened, the better.

"He started it!" One of the boys interjected, shouting angrily at Cassana.

"Liar!" Manfred yelled the word as loudly as he could, even as others were hurrying up.

"What is going on here?" A tall man limped forward with the aid of a walking stick. Cassana recognised him immediately; he was a servant of House Swann called Kresimir. He might have gone riding with the other men, but he was burdened with a clubfoot, and so had remained behind to manage the camp. Lord Gawen and his sons often called him Kresimir "Hasty" in mockery of his slow, limping gait.

"Jankin!"

Cassana groaned inwardly. Jankin was Lady Grandison's youngest son; she had not recognised him because he was still covering his face, trying to stop the bleeding, and she had only looked at him briefly. Now she beheld his mother wrap her arms around her son and call for a servant to assist him. Then her eyes met Cassana's, and Lady Grandison arose from her crouch like a roused lioness.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"I would like to know that as well," Cassana answered firmly.

"He spit on me!" Manfred suddenly shrieked, pointing a finger at Jankin Grandison.

"Liar! It was rain water!" the other boy shouted. He was wearing a finely-made tunic which bore the sigil of House Morrigen. Lord Morrigen's youngest boy.

Kresimir stood by, looking sheepish. Others had assembled, including Millicent and Estella, both of whom tut-tutted at the sight of Cassana and her son in the middle of a spat.

"This was an unfortunate incident," Cassana conceded, "We must needs discipline our children as we see fit. I know I shall, and I apologise for my son's part." It took all her will to force the disgusting words from her mouth; she could almost sense her son's misery and resentment emanating from his very pores. You put me in this intolerable position; one day you will understand why I said those words.

Lady Grandison was fuming, but Cassana's immediate surrender had robbed her of an opportunity to argue properly. Instead she huffed furiously as she took her son by the hand and led him away.

Reddened with suppressed wroth, Cassana did the same with Manfred, gripping his shoulder back to the tent in which they were staying. "Change out of those clothes," Cassana told Manfred brusquely. "I will not have you starting fights with the other boys, do you understand?"

"They spit on me!" Manfred insisted stubbornly.

"I believe you," Cassana sighed, "I know you speak truthfully, but you only made it worse by fighting them. Suppose that Jankin Grandison becomes your goodbrother some day?"

"No!" Manfred yelled bad-temperedly as he fumbled with his clothes. Cassana would have told a servant to undress him, but they were alone in the tent until Baldric and the others returned. She knelt on one knee and helped him undo his buttons.

"It is undignified to speak that way," Cassana reminded him coldly. "You may very well marry Jankin's sister, and then you two must needs get along."

"Why?" Manfred glared at her sourly.

Gods be good, there is too much of Titus in him. "Because that is marriage. They are arranged to better the lot of your family."

Manfred had no argument for that, but his bitter mood did not abate, not even when the hunting party returned with the carcass of a great black bear.

"The dogs roused him out of his lair," Baldric boasted, still holding a spear whose blade was caked with dry blood and whose handle was broken in two. "I thought he was going to tear us all apart! He put up a good fight, to be sure. Killed five of our best elkhounds before we finally put him down."

He regaled anyone who would listen with his account of the hunt for the entire journey back to Stonehelm. Cassana was glad that he'd proven his worth, but she was much more curious about whether he'd been approached regarding marriage or fostering.

When they returned to their guest chambers, Baldric's demeanour changed from triumph to defeat as soon as she broached the subject.

"We have been given offers," he began in an attempt to sound cheerful.

Cassana felt unease growing inside of her. "Well?"

"For one thing, Father pointed out that my uncle is widowed, and his sons died young. He is still young enough to become a father again, and he is quite taken with your cousins. He would be pleased to have either one as a second wife."

Either one. Bile arose in Cassana's throat. It was one thing that Falia and Jocelyn were younger than Ser Alfred's daughter, but another that Ser Alfred was a second son who stood to inherit nothing but the scraps from his brother's table.

"Cass?"

Baldric was still looking miserable, but now there was fear in his eyes as he looked up at her from where he sat. Gods be good...

"Surely you did not accept?" She was whispering now; it was all she could manage to avoid screaming at Baldric.

"No, I didn't. We never finished that conversation. That was when the bear appeared."

Praise to the gods for sending that bear. Perhaps the Maiden herself sent it. The bear and the Maiden. Cassana felt a wild urge to laugh at that irony, and also with relief.

"Good. That conversation will never be finished. I will not permit it."

"Permit it?" Indignance was mixed in with his fear now. "How can I refuse him? Mine own uncle? I cannot turn this down without insulting my entire family."

"And what of Falia and Jocelyn?" Cassana snapped. "They are your family too, as much as they are mine. They are both Dondarrions! And I will not wed either of them to a drunken lout who drove his first wife into an early grave!"

Some strange fire smoldered in Baldric's eyes, just as it had outside of Stonehelm. "As your father did your mother?"

Cassana did not hesitate or even make a conscious decision. Her hand swung out and slapped her husband's face so hard that it hurt. His eyes and mouth widened with shock as his cheek turned red. Cassana did not care; she no longer held herself back as she loomed over Baldric.

"The Others take your vicious uncle! And the rest of your filthy family!"

She did not wait to let him reply, but stormed out of their chamber. If she had stayed, she might very well have hit him again.

Breathing heavily, shaking with wroth, Cassana paid no attention to where she was going, forcing herself not to rage and curse aloud. It was not the first time that she'd struck Baldric, but never before had she struck him out of sheer malice. She might have felt remorseful if she was not so angered by what he had dared to say. It was not just the words, but also the clear intent behind them. It was a side of him that she had never seen before, and it reminded her far too much of his Swann relatives for her liking. Did I make a mistake all those years ago?

She continued to pace throughout the castle until a servant called to her and asked if she was looking for the dining hall. She had walked for so long that it was time for supper again.

Reluctantly, Cassana made her way down to the hall and sat beside her silent husband. One side of his face was still pink, but Cassana was still too angry to lament her lost temper. Instead she kept her face down and ate sparingly whilst the others gossiped around her. Not even when she sensed Falia on her other side, looking at her curiously, did she deign to explain herself. Eventually, she heard Falia speaking with her sister instead.

If the others noticed the animosity between Cassana and Baldric, they made no mention of it. They were far more interested in the king's proclamation. Banners were being summoned to King's Landing for an expedition to the North. The first contingent was already assembled and due to depart, so the ravens said, but those who were further from the capital were expected to put together a second contingent. Lord Baratheon had also called his banners, so the maester of Stonehelm declared.

Much to Cassana's surprise, there did not seem to be a great haste amongst the assembled stormlords to obey these commands. If anything, they seemed amused that they were required for the northmen to triumph against one single island of wildlings.

"In any case," Lord Gawen stated, "I see little need to halt these pleasantries. If anyone wishes to send word to their homes by raven, Maester Borri would be honoured to assist you."

A strange feeling possessed Cassana as she listened to Gawen's words, but she could not make sense of it. Before she could find a conclusion, Ser Alfred Swann chose that moment to speak to Baldric.

"By the by, nephew," the aging knight declared in a voice that betrayed how many drinks he'd already had. "It occurs to me that you never answered your father's suggestion."

Cassana looked up with alacrity. He cannot mean to do this now. Is he really so shameless?

She turned to Baldric, who was already looking as if he was going to be sick.

"What suggestion was that again?" Baldric muttered.

"Come now, Lord Dondarrion, have you already forgotten?" Lord Gawen was speaking now. In all the time that they had been there, he had only ever called Baldric by his title.

"Father, this is not the time or the place," Baldric mumbled. His whole face was pink now.

"Is it not? Why?" Gawen was relentless. Cassana could see that he was enjoying himself, and her wroth was redoubled for Baldric, for Falia and Jocelyn, and for herself.

Ser Alfred looked to Jocelyn and Falia, who were gazing with curiosity at the conversation. "Ladies, I believe neither of you is spoken for, and it occurs to me that I have an empty nest which has missed someone to feather it for quite some time."

Falia betrayed no emotion, but Cassana could sense that she was stiff with horror.

"I believe you are mistaken, Ser."

Though she was determined only to look at Ser Alfred, she sensed many other eyes upon her. Falia, Jocelyn, Baldric, Gawen... she could sense the storm building over her, but she only had eyes for Alfred; he was surprised and confused, so much like he'd looked when her father had said Baldric's name at that feast so long ago.

"Both my cousins are engaged, but I thank you for your kindly thoughts towards them." Cassana forced herself to speak as courteously as she could. "I am sure that there is someone else within the Stormlands who would only be too grateful for your hand in marriage."

Everyone knew what she was doing, and it was inspiring shock and anger. She felt a thrill of panic as she knew that her bluff would immediately fall apart if it were challenged, and so she arose from her seat.

"I'm afraid that we must be on our way, Lord Gawen," she announced. "Our liege lord and our king must be obeyed, and it would not do to keep them waiting. We must return to Blackhaven and organise our contribution. But I thank you for your boundless hospitality towards us. Long will I remember it."

Falia and Jocelyn followed her immediately as she turned and walked out of the hall. She did not turn around, but she could hear the scraping of other chairs and the plod of men's boots behind her. She hoped that Baldric would have the good sense to support her in this, or else she did not know what she would do with him.

"Thank you!" Falia whispered to Cassana as they mounted a staircase.

"Go and pack. Immediately. The sooner we are out of this wretched castle, the better." Cassana whispered back. "See to it that my sons are prepared."

She was already stuffing clothes into her bags when the door burst open. Baldric approached her, eyes wide and wild with emotion.

"Have you taken leave of your senses?" He exclaimed.

"I might ask you the same question," Cassana retorted as she continued to pack.

Baldric said nothing for a moment; he simply stood there agape, breathing heavily as she continued.

When her bags were full, she looked up, "Do you require assistance with your belongings? Shall I call for Agnis?"

It was only then that she saw the tears going down his face. That alone took her aback, but the expression in his eyes was worse; a fire was burning again, the same fire which she'd seen earlier that day, but more terrible.

"I should have known what you were," he snarled. "Right from the beginning, I always knew what you were capable of... but I hoped that you did at least love me... even respect me..."

Cassana wanted to speak, but she was so unnerved by Baldric that she could not assemble the words which might stem this flow. "Baldric..."

"Silence!" Baldric shouted. It was a voice which he had never used before, and Cassana found herself wilting.

"You have such a nerve to speak as you have tonight... After all you fretted about your cousins and our sons, after all we have endured in Stonehelm... And we are only in this mess because of you!"

An icy hand seemed to grip her heart for a moment. What is he saying?

When he spoke again, he was shouting. "You told me not to fight Royce! You commanded me to stand down and let someone else do it! I could have slain him, and then we would never have investigated Tyana!"

"She murdered Maester Gerold..." She spoke faintly, hoping against hope that Baldric did not mean what he was saying.

"I don't care!" Baldric retorted, "Royce could have died instead, and then that would have settled the matter!"

Relief flooded her. "The gods did not want that outcome..." Cassana began.

"What do you know of the gods' will?" Baldric interrupted scathingly. "Do you speak for them? Did they tell you to keep me out of the trial by combat?"

"No." Cassana's relief vanished as soon as it had enveloped her; this may not be what she feared, but it was a dreadful argument nonetheless. "I was not sure of-"

"Not sure of what?" Baldric interrupted again. "Do you doubt all my abilities so much? Why did you even choose me? Was it just to spite my family?"

"Of course not!" Cassana knew she was blustering, knew that she needed to think clearly and be reasonable, but she knew that any suggestion of such would only agitate Baldric further. It occurred to her that she was actually afraid of him, for the first time in her life. She felt her heart pounding in her chest.

Baldric stared at her for a moment which seemed to last an eternity. Then with a furious sigh, he cuffed at his wet cheeks. "You may doubt my abilities, but I know what I am capable of. Once we assemble troops for the North, I mean to lead them myself."

Cassana paused; she opened her mouth to speak against it, but Baldric was already walking out of the room, calling for their servant Agnis.

Perhaps it is for the best, a little voice said inside of her. He was always a better knight than he was a lord. Cassana cursed the voice which said that, and cursed herself for thinking it in the first place. But she did not have the will to go after Baldric and tell him otherwise. Instead, she went to look for Manfred and Caspor, hoping that they were dressed and ready to depart.