284 AC The Riverlands Eyva I
Her duties were thankfully light enough to allow her time to find herself a perch on the outer walls to watch their visitors leave Atranta, the day was another fine, near cloudless day, it promised to be warm, apart from the cold wind that blew in from the north.
'Cold wind from the north' she mused, oh no, the North was not cold at all, in fact she fancied she could still feel the heat of the north inside her belly, a gasp escaping her lips at the thought, she bit her lower lip with her teeth as memories flashed across the eye of her mind.
She and her two friends, Rana and Alerah were serving girls in the castle of Atranta, all were of an age, ten and nine and all shared a small room in the servant's quarters. All had similar stories to tell, raised on farms near about, all 'taken into service' at ten and two and not a maiden still among them, thanks in part to what was their own natural curiosity and the belief among the Vance Lords that the womanhood of any female servant of their House should be available to them to be tupped any time of day or night. The Head of Household, a stern old dowager by the name of Caryss, and rumoured to be an unacknowledged bastard sister of Lord Ronald, had been strict with all the female staff, Moon Tea once a month for five days midway between your Bleedings from the time you first flowered. At least that stopped the place being overrun with bastards and in truth none of them particularly wanted to father a Vance bastard.
If the odd unwelcome tumble was the price to be paid for service to House Vance then all three were agreed that it was a small price to pay for a warm bed at night, plentiful food to fill ones belly, goof if plain clothes on ones back and no more drudgery in the fields or tending pigs and sheep. A steady income of coin also helped, she had even been able to save a small amount from her wages, more coin than she knew her family ever saw in a year of slaving in their fields. And she had to be honest; apart from the first time when she lost her maidenhead the attentions of the various male Vance's had not been all that bad, over far too quickly for the most part though.
The Vance ladies knew of their menfolk's activities but strangely they seemed to accept it, beyond the odd whipping now and then, to remind the girls that though they accepted what happened, it did not mean that they necessarily liked it, nor forgave the girls. Hah! 'forgave' the girls, only the most wanton, or stupid, pursued any of the Vance's, no, it was almost exclusively the other way round.
But yet all three of them sported the scars on their backs that told of the frustrations of the female Vance's. But there were more than a few handsome Men At Arms about the castle, the older ones tended to have some coin and a reasonably secure position, despite what they knew about what went on it was not uncommon for former Chamber Maids and Servants to marry such as these. Another advantage was that once married you were moved to positions like scullery maid and others that tended to keep you away from the attentions of the Vance menfolk. For the Vance ladies were not stupid after all, men, even smallfolk who had served their House for decades in some cases, were not in general best pleased by unwelcome attentions being paid to their wives, no matter what had gone on before the girls in question had been wed.
The castle had been in a minor uproar preparing for the arrival of Lord Stark, his bride to be and her father, Lord Tywin Lannister, along with their party. She and her friends had been worked ragged preparing for this event, even though it was expected that their guests would stay no more than a day or two at most. Lord Roland Vance and his brothers had fought with Lord Stark during Robert's Rebellion and she, like most of the servants were well versed in the stories that the Vance males liked to tell of the Rebellion.
Stories that tended to glorify their contributions of course, but enough of the truth to be interesting nonetheless. And with the imminent arrival of Lords Stark and Lannister, the stories being told, and often overheard by the servants, did tend to focus on Lord Stark. The story of his killing of Rhaegar Targaryen at the Battle of the Bloody Ford seemed to be among the favourites being recounted, and she had heard it many times already.
How Lord Stark had stood knee deep in bloody water, his northern pike surrounding him, breaking the charge of Rhaegar Targaryen and his Crownland cavalry, how the Price and the Lord had met in single combat amidst the swirling mass of men, horses and tangled bodies, and how Lord Stark had cut the Prince in twain from breast to hip with his first strike from the legendary Valyrian steel blade Ice. And how Lord Stark had with his second strike took Rahegar's head from his shoulders and had picked it up by its long, silver hair and held it aloft, roaring out an incoherent battle cry. And how he had then tied the princes severed head to his belt by its hair and he had stalked forwards, dealing death to all who stood against him, breaking the southern knights with his berserker rage as he killed hundreds of them in a morning of carnage that had seen the core of the Loyalist army gutted. For this feat and many others, Lord Stark had been named 'The Black Wolf' by the forces loyal to the Iron Throne, and it was said that he embraced that title with glee.
They had been present in the courtyard when the procession had arrived, curtseying with the rest of the female staff, she had stolen a glance at her friends as they had straightened up. Yes, they were all thinking the same thing, Lord Stark was quite the handsome young Lord, and there was something about him that made her belly quiver in a most delicious manner.
The feast that evening had confirmed their initial glances, up close Lord Stark was not handsome, not even good looking, he was like a god made flesh. Every time they approached him to serve him they could feel his power, his manliness, and from the glances that they shared they knew that one or maybe even all of them would be sure to try the feel of the young Lords pillar in them before his visit was out.
Of course the high born blonde at his side, the daughter of Lord Tywin Lannister, was not unaware of their interest in her husband to be. She glared daggers at them whenever they approached, and made sure to cling to him as much as possible. Evya hid a smile of amusement and wondered if this fine highborn chit had let the wolf Lord plough her cunny with his pillar yet? She doubted it, the chit stuck her as typical highborn - stupid, vacuous and with a streak of petty cruelty. Where she in blondies place the good Lord Stark would be getting his pillar polished and his stones drained every night, I mean how could one leave such a fine slab of northern beef go unfucked?
Sadly the little Lannister chit was not as stupid as she looked as they had been foiled during the night in attempting to gain access to Lord Stark's bedchambers, much to the frustration of her and her friends. Before they fell asleep there had been some conversation about some of the Stark banner men, who looked rough enough to excite some desire, but who were a pale shadow of their Liege Lord it had to be admitted.
The three had fallen asleep, all of them wondering if they would be able to get a decent tumble from Lord Stark while he stayed in Atranta.