Robert was less than pleased with the current situation. After the episode the previous night, the maester had recommended that they stay an extra day to ensure a total recovery. After much arguing over the point, Eddard finally convinced Robert to stay and rest. During the extra day of rest, a winter storm blew down the mountains burying the high road in deep snow. This of course meant that they would be delayed at the Bloody Gate even longer. Eddard tried to keep Robert's temper in check, but after three days they were both at their wits end. Robert from being stuck there unable to head north and Eddard from having to hear Robert complain about it. Robert had visited the small sept attached to the gates to pray and calm his nerves, but the septon in charge of the place was poor company compared to Cedric. The old man was set in his ways and looked down on Roberts less devout method of giving up prayers to the seven. Rarely would the man speak openly to Robert of it out of respect of his status as a high lord, but Robert could feel the judgment oozing from the man. Robert in retaliation started being even less formal in his prayers to the seven and louder about it, and complained to Ned that it wasn't the same. Ned, normally stoic, in his shouldering of Roberts complaints finally spoke up about it.
"Why is this so important Robert? You were never very devout before. You usually fell asleep during the times you were forced to go to worship in the sept. I'm assuming your recent experiences have something to do with it?"
"Of course, Ned," Robert looked around to see if anyone was listening in. Satisfied, he continued, "When you have a direct encounter with your god it tends to put things into a bit more perspective. Praying in the sept at the Gates of the Moon really helped me get through the toughest parts of what happened. That and the septon there was actually fun to talk to, not like that old windbag they've got here. Can you believe that he had the gal to tell me…" Robert's building rant came to a stop when he saw the look on Ned's face that said 'Yes, and I was trying to change the subject.' "Anyway, I think you'd like him. He's actually from the North you know. I think he's a Manderly bastard, or something like that. Cedric Snow was his name." He stopped as he remembered something that he had asked Cedric. "You know I asked him what he knew about the old gods. Could you tell me what your people believe about them?"
"The old gods?" Eddard was surprised by the question. "What would you like to know?"
"As much as you are willing or able to share." Robert replied
"Well, we don't really have organized worship like the faith. There are no priests or holy texts as the gods are found everywhere, but especially in the godswoods. We go there to pray before the heart tree which is normally a weirwood tree, but I know in the south it is rare to see one now. The gods watch us there and no lies can be told before gods as they watch and judge over us. Old Nan told us that the gods only hold power where their faces can see." Eddard stopped his explanation and looked at the contemplative expression on Robert's face.
"Thanks Ned, I'll probably talk to Old Nan about this if she's willing. I remember you telling me about her, she sounds like the Crone incarnate."
"Don't tell her that, she's a strict follower of the old ways. I'm sure she wouldn't appreciate being compared to your southron gods." Ned replied with a nostalgic grin.
"One god Ned, but lots of people make that mistake. You know it was the old gods who saved me from the judgment of the seven?"
"You spoke to the old gods?" Eddard was incredulous at the statement.
"Ha! I actually yelled at them believe it or not." Robert laughed.
"That's not exactly hard to imagine Robert." Eddard chuckled, "This is a lot to take in. If it were not for that scar, I'd still think you mad."
"You and me both friend." Robert admitted.
"Can you tell me what it was like? Whenever I pray in a godswood, I know I can feel their presence and it calms my soul, they say that the rustling of the weirwood leaves in the wind is the voice of the gods answering us in prayer."
"Well, it was otherworldly to say the least. It was like countless voices calling out in unison. It was like nature was speaking itself. They took the form of an incredibly large weirwood tree with more faces carved into it than I could count." Robert couldn't help but lose himself in the memory.
"It truly is amazing, unheard of since the dawn age, have you ever wondered why they would choose you for this?" Eddard asked with awe in his voice. Robert tensed, he realized that he had left out one of the most important things the gods had asked of him.
"Ah, well they did give me an idea as to why they sent me back." Robert said mildly, Eddard leaned forward curiously waiting for him to continue. "You see the old gods said that the long night will return in our lifetimes. The Seven argued that mankind already had what was needed to end the threat, but the old gods said that if I was sent back to prepare, much less would be lost."
"Long night? Like the legends? Did they say that grumpkins and snarks would roam the land as well?" Eddard replied in disbelief.
"Look, it's utter nonsense to me too, but what am I to say to a talking tree? They said we have five and twenty years to prepare for it. The only thing I can come up with as to why they chose me was to keep the rebellion from happening so that the kingdoms would be united enough to fight back properly."
"Robert, this is… I don't really have words for what this is." Eddard shook his head, still in disbelief over this revelation.
"Apparently your house words are more than just words, they are a warning. Winter is coming." Robert said solemnly.
"Aye" was all Eddard could say in response.
After having not much else to talk about after that particular discussion, the two young lords retired for the night. Fortunately, they awoke to good news as the Knight of the Gate greeted them with word that the snow had been sufficiently cleared and the mountain pass was open again. At the announcement Robert could hardly be stopped from getting up and going right then, but once again Eddard was the voice of reason and made sure that sufficient preparations were made. And so, the party was able to continue their journey to Winterfell.
The days passed by as they traveled southwest along the high road out of the vale heading for the well-known Crossroads Inn. They had agreed to spend a few nights in the Inn to rest from this leg of their travel. Robert however was feeling restless and pent up, and the looks the pretty women at the inn were giving him weren't helping at all. He had made a promise to himself, and frankly to the Maiden, and he not keen on breaking it. So instead, he spent his days there sparring with anyone willing, practicing the joust, and praying in the local sept. Eventually, not soon enough for Robert, it was time for them to continue north along the kingsroad. They settled into a good routine as the miles and hours passed by. The temperature grew colder and colder as they progressed towards Winterfell and snow became more and more common. The weather made for poor travel even if the winter was particularly mild. The small folk tried their best to keep the road clear as travelers often brought coin, but they couldn't be everywhere, so some stretches of the road grew increasingly difficult to traverse. A trip that was estimated to take a little over a moon was quickly turning into more than twice that. Robert was not looking forward to travelling through the causeway up the neck, it wasn't exactly a rousing fun time the last time he had done it.
The terrain slowly shifted from the rolling hills and fertile farmlands of the Riverlands to the swampy lowlands that signaled their crossing into the North. Robert noticed a marked change in Eddard, he sat a little straighter in the saddle with his shoulders more relaxed, looking around and just taking in the landscape of his home. Robert still couldn't see what Eddard saw, but figured that home was home no matter how dreary it was. Eventually they transitioned to the raised embankment that marked the only safe passage through the neck. As the sun set over the endless marshlands and an eerie freezing mist settled over the land. The group managed to find a somewhat raised and dried island not too far off the road that had obviously been used by those travelling the causeway in the past. They managed to set up camp and find enough dry wood to start a fire so they and their mounts could recuperate from the long day of travel.
Fortunately, they had stocked up on trail rations before heading into the neck as none of them felt particularly comfortable enough to hunt in the swamps. Unfortunately, trail rations weren't exactly a hearty warming meal. It was then that a voice called out to them.
"Hail my lords, I can I share a spot by your fire tonight?" The entire group jumped to their feet in surprise and looked around unable to find the source of the voice. Robert eventually called out.
"Come on out if you mean no harm. If you do mean harm, come on out anyway and we'll settle it like men." His voice was authoritative and strong. Within a few moments a short yet stout and strong young crannogman almost materialized out of the mist. He was clad in bronze scales with a trident in his right hand, a small round leather shield on his arm, and carrying a line of recently caught fish over his left shoulder. He had a jovial smile and his deep green eyes twinkled in the firelight with a cunning intelligence.
"Good evening my lord Eddard, it has been quite some time since we met last." The man said congenially.
"Howland?" Both Robert and Eddard exclaimed. Howland for his part cocked his head and looked to Robert. Robert realized his mistake. He first saw the man at Harrenhal dinning with the Starks, but hadn't truly met Lord Howland of House Reed until after the Battle of the Bells. He could feel Eddard roll his eyes at the slip up.
"I'm sorry my lord, I don't believe we have met, but I am assuming by the crowned stag you wear you are Lord Robert Baratheon?" He said walking up and beginning to warm himself by the fire. The men all relaxed as it appeared he was no threat.
"Yes, I, uh, heard all about you from Ned here." Robert tried in vain to cover for his slip. Eddard stepped in.
"It is definitely a pleasant surprise to see you. What are the odds that we'd run across you here?" Eddard asked offering a seat to his friend. Howland raised a hand in thanks, but instead started working on cleaning and preparing the fish to roast over the fire. The spirits of the men instantly improved at the prospect of a freshly cooked warm meal.
"Higher than you'd think. I was travelling on the Green Fork on my way to the Isle of Faces when friends whispered that a wolf and a stag would need help travelling up the neck." The young lord Reed replied with a conspiratorial grin.
"We haven't come across anyone since we started up the causeway." One of the men interjected.
"Not all in the Neck who see have eyes nor those who speak have mouths." The crannogman replied cryptically. The group of Valemen tensed at the little man's arcane speech. He glared at them with an appraising eye before laughing. "My people will not be seen if they do not wish it. Some of my father's bannermen who watch the causeway informed me of your passing." With that, the guards seemed to relax a little at the seemingly mundane explanation for this man's appearance.
"Well, we'd be glad to have your assistance lord Howland." Eddard said with a grin.
"Yes, it is too dark for you to be travelling through the bog now. Greywater Watch isn't too far from here now, we'll rest for the night and head there in the morning. Now, my lord Stark, my lord Baratheon, may I request a moment to speak privately with you?" Robert could hear the excitement in the short man's voice and was wary. He looked to Ned who gave a shrug.
"Alright," Robert replied nodding to Howland before turning to the rest of the party. "You lot can get those fish our friend graciously provided cooking, we're going to have a chat and be back for dinner." There was a chorus of agreement from the guards as the three young lords moved away for them for some privacy.
"I wish to be honest with you my lords, I was not brought here by human whispers. You see, since the hammer of water failed to break the Neck of Westeros, it has left these lands saturated with ancient and wild magics. I have spent most of my life learning of it, and that was why I was travelling to the Isle of Faces to continue my studies with the Green Men." He paused for a moment to let the revelation sink in.
"Then who are these friends of yours?" Robert asked growing increasingly annoyed with the little man.
"You see, for those who learn how to truly listen, the trees and the streams, the rocks and the flowers, they sing of nature and of all that happens in this land. For almost the past moon-turn they have sung an incredible song." He lowered his voice and leaned in closely as if to share an important secret. "They sing of the king of stags, triumphant over the dragon but brought low by the lion and a boar. They whisper that in his dying moments he broke the chains of death and returned to days long past in order to bring peace to the lands, raise up the prince that was promised, and help drive back the long night." His whispered words echoed in Robert's ears. "My Lord Robert Baratheon, I sense something about you. I knew it even before I saw you. Are you the king of stags of which the land sings?" Robert's mouth opened and shut a few times, searching for a response as the crannogman's deep green eyes seemed to bore into his soul.
"Um, yes, I suppose I am." Was all he could muster. The look on Howland's face was like that of a young child who had just received a long-awaited gift.
"This is incredible," He just managed to keep himself from yelling. "All the learned men and greenseers of the past have said that the ink is dry and that the past cannot be changed. You are living proof that this is not the case. How did it happen? What power brought you back." Robert took a step back as Howland pressed forward with his questions.
"I uh, don't really know." He managed putting his hands up defensively. "I know that the seven were involved. The old gods had to bargain with them for my soul. But beyond that I have no clue why this happened to me."
"I see my lord, or should I say Your Grace."
"Don't you dare your grace me Howland, if I have my way, I'll never be king again." Robert growled
"Of course," He replied stepping back at Robert's tone. "I'm assuming you met me in your previous life. Why else would you have known me already?" Howland continued trying to change the subject.
"Yes, you were with Ned here on campaign in the war in which I won my crown. You didn't mention anything about magic then though." Robert said still a little irate.
"Ah well, like I said, the magic I know is here in the Neck. Outside of it, it would be of little use, and I hear tell that southrons and followers of the seven do not look kindly upon those that practice the old ways." Howland replied honestly. "I have so many more questions my lord, but I realize that you would be hard pressed to answer them. Let's go eat and rest for we travel to Greywater on the morrow. I still plan to head south to the Isle of Faces as the Green Men might have more insight into this momentous event, but I will make sure you have the finest guide lead you and your men to Moat Cailin." He smiled before gesturing back towards the fire.
"Thank you, my friend, your assistance is quite appreciated." Eddard spoke up. "Tell me though, how many others can hear this song being sung?"
"Right," Robert added, "I'm not exactly looking for rumors of my... circumstances getting around."
"Worry not, there are not many who still study and practice the old ways. Those that do aren't interested enough in southron houses to understand the symbolism. We're a pretty insular people here, your secret is safe with us." Howland replied with a reassuring smile.
With that the young lords returned to the group and joined the men as they ate the freshly cooked fish. Eventually, they all bedded down for the evening. They had a good night's rest, and when they began to stir, they saw Howland crouching by the edge of the raised clearing where the morning fog swirled.
"Good morning, friends, we best get prepared to leave. Once the sun rises and properly burns away the fog, we'll make for Greywater Watch. Count yourselves lucky as you are the first Andals in generations to set foot in the halls of House Reed." He said as he helped the group pack their things and prepare the horses. True to his word, once the sun had risen well above the horizon, the thick mists covering the bog's surface dissipated, and Howland walked over to the western edge of the camp where a path of dry land led further into the swamp.
"Hey," One of the guards called out. "Wasn't that all water and mud yesterday?"
"You must be mistaken," the crannogman replied with a mischievous smile. "The swamp can often play tricks on one's eyes. Make sure you stay close and follow my directions. We wouldn't want you to join all your ancestors who though they could march their armies through here." His smile had turned into a vicious grin.
"How did your ancestors conquer the Neck again Ned?" Robert said leaning over to his friend with a quiet voice.
"I wish I knew, but I'm glad they did." Ned responded in a tone filled with awe.