Through the fog, White Harbor edged into view. The white buildings obscured by the cold morning mist. Arya counted eight ships docked, although there could have been more she wasn't certain.
She stood next to Captain Lovett, a longstanding faithful servant of Littlefinger.
"I wish to thank you for your help, Captain Lovett. Soon we must part ways forever. You will be paid for your most handsomely services. I will leave you in the capable hands of one of my assistants. Her name is Alayne Stone. She is small with dark hair and grey eyes. She will greet you with the words valar morghulis valar dohaeris. That is how you will know it is her."
She returned to Littlefinger's cabin and awaited for the anchor to be dropped. Arya removed Littlefinger's face and changed into her own clothes. With care, she placed his face beside the others she stored in her satchel of faces.
Arya peeked out of the door, the corridor was empty. She snuck out and made her way on deck. There, the organised chaos of docking ensued. Arya walked about, she needed to be seen. She asked one of the sailors to point the captain out, who gestured towards Captain Lovett.
"Captain Lovett, I believe?" the captain eyed her up and down before nodding his head. "Valar morghulis valar dohaeris," she said.
"Aye. And who are you?" Arya knew he was testing her.
"My name is Alayne Stone. I am here on behalf of Lord Baelish. I see he has… disappeared as planned. I am here, under his direction, to take the cargo to his designated destination." Arya replied. "Has he suggested a new name for the ship?" She could not implicate her family in the murder of Joffrey.
Captain Lovett looked around, his eyes scanning the ship for Littlefinger.
"He already left," Arya told him. "He's started the second leg of his journey. There are people out to kill Lord Baelish. He has been incorrectly implicated in a murder. Once which would see his head leave his body. It was why he faked his own death."
Captain Lovett looked uncomfortable.
"No, he didn't suggest a new name. And how do you know about that?"
"Lord Baelish told me as he left White Harbor. In disguise, may I add. Here," she handed him a letter. "From Lord Baelish himself, if you don't believe me."
The captain unfurled the note and read the contents, authorising Alayne Stone to take charge of his cargo, as per their earlier conversation. The cargo was to stay aboard ship until Alayne spoke with Wylis Manderly. In return, they would receive payment and a parting gift. Five barrels of sweetwine for the captain and his crew.
"I will notify Ser Wylis Manderly of your arrival," Arya stated. "If you will excuse me," she bowed her head and left.
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A palanquin carried her to New Castle, where she knew Ser Wylis Manderly to be in charge. Lord Wyman Manderly was away in Winterfell, swearing allegiance to Jon, leaving his eldest son in charge. Jon had promised to leave a letter behind announcing her arrival.
When she arrived at the entrance, there were two guards waiting. Dressed in polished steel armour, with a green cape and the Manderly merman sigil not only engraved into the armour, but embroidered into the cape. As she got out of the palanquin, the guards stared at her, most likely assuming she was an urchin from the town.
"What the fuck do you want?" the guard on the left asked. An ugly brute with a bald head, a belly which looked to have consumed too much wine, and a ruddy face to match.
"I am here on behalf of Lord Stark and Lord Whitestark."
Both the guards evaluated her before bursting into laughter.
"You? Here on behalf of the warden of the North? What's he sending a street urchin like you for?" the other guard laughed.
He was as thin as the other was fat. Younger too, she thought. He had straw-coloured hair and freckled skin. He was, in all likelihood, younger than Jon.
Arya hated using her title, but if there was ever a time to use it, it was now.
"My name is Arya Stark. I would have you refer to me as my Lady."
"Fuck off," the first guard shook his head.
"I'm here to parley with Ser Wylis. I believe Lord Manderly is in Winterfell. I assume he left around the time Lord Whitestark arrived and returned to Winterfell. I accompanied Lord…" Arya stopped, the guards were reaching for their sword.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," she gave a bored sigh. "I don't wish to cause discord between our families by killing two of Lord Manderly's guards. But if you insist…" she pulled Needle from her new brown leather scabbard.
The guards took one look at Needle and laughed.
"What you planning on doing with that? Sewing?" the first guard asked.
"Come on little girl, now run along," the younger one added.
"I'm here to see Ser Wylis Manderly. He is expecting me."
"You see this?" the red-faced guard showed her his sword. "It'll cut you in half, missy."
"I told you, I'm Arya Stark. Lady Arya to you."
"Ladies don't play with swords. But little girls might steal one and pretend to know what they are doing, the ruddy faced one threatened.
Arya knew she needed to try a different tactic.
"I agree. A street girl wouldn't know how to use a sword in the proper fashion. The warden of the North can afford to pay for sword-fighting lessons for his daughters. Or he could have Ser Rodrik Cassel, the Master-at-Arms of Winterfell teach them. Therefore, I have an idea to prove who I am. I'll take one of you on. We will spar, and the first to yield wins. If I win, you go find Ser Wylis and tell him Lady Arya Stark is at the gates. If you win, I leave."
"I'm not fighting a little girl. Wouldn't be fair," the older guard said. He turned to the freckly one. "You do it."
"I might hurt her," the younger guard said.
"I wouldn't worry about that," the older one argued.
"He's right. You don't need to worry about hurting me. And I'll try not to hurt you... too much."
"Go on, Tombo," the older guard insisted.
The straw-haired guard called Tombo unsheathed his sword and made a stance. His posture was terrible, Arya noted. The grip on the sword was far too tight. He held the sword at the wrong angle. She almost felt sorry for him.
"Are you sure you've been trained to hold that properly?" she asked.
Tombo didn't reply. Instead, he lunged at her, all gangly arms and little style. Arya moved to one side, missing her completely and almost tripping over his feet. He turned to face her and swung his sword once more. Had he have hit his mark, her head would have been rolling down the step and back to the docks. Arya ducked, and he missed. As she did, he had left his legs open to attack. She swiped needle across the back of his ankle.
"Fuuuuucckkkk…." Tombo cried and fell backwards, landing on his arse and clutching the bleeding ankle. His sword clattered on the cobbled stone. Arya held Needle to his throat.
"Do you yield?" she asked, lifting it slightly and nicking his chin.
"Aye, I yield."
Arya held out her hand to help Tombo up.
"I can't walk," he cried.
"Stop being a baby. I cut nothing more than your skin. You can walk fine."
He took her hand as she pulled him up. His face was surprised that she was telling the truth.
"Lord Manderly needs to ensure his soldiers are trained up to a higher standard than this. I will ask father to look into it," she said as she was about to place Needle back in its scabbard, however she stopped short as the guard with the ruddy face growled at. "A deal is a deal," she warned. "Unless you want to take me on."
"I wouldn't if I were you." Tombo warned. "I'll tell Ser Wylis that a girl claiming to be Lady Arya is at the gates, if you want."
"Go on then," the older man barked as Tombo disappeared behind the gate to find Ser Wylis.
It felt like an eternity before Tombo returned with Ser Wylis. All the while, the older guard kept watch, scowling and not uttering a word. When Tombo returned with Ser Wylis, Lord Manderly's son greeted her with a smile.
"Lady Arya," he bowed his head. "Lord Whitestark told us to expect you. Come in, come in. I apologise for the delay."
"Ser Wylis," Arya smiled. "Good to see you again."
"Ypu too, Lady Arya. Now, if you'd like to follow me."
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Ser Wylis led her to what she recognised as Lord Manderly's solar. A fire burned in the hearth, for the weather was cooler than when she left over four moons ago. She sat on one of the comfortable hearthside chairs, while Ser Wylis poured her a welcome horn of White Harbor ale. He handed her the drink and sat opposite.
"I hope the guards didn't give you too much trouble."
Arya shrugged. She had expected them to be reluctant to let her in.
"Less so than I expected. Tombo should recover from his wounds within the hour. Although his pride maybe damaged for life."
"I heard you were quite the little swords woman."
"I've worked hard to become as good as I am. Which brings me to speak of something which concerns me greatly. I hope these are not representative of the Manderly soldiers. If they are, then they need more tutelage. They wouldn't survive five minutes in a battle."
"Are we expecting any battles?" Ser Wylis asked, his bushy brow furrowed. Like his father, Ser Wylis was a large man. He had a dark bushy moustache, with eyebrows to match. A silver and sapphire Trident clasp held his cloak in place, covering the food stains which covered his clothes.
"Winter is coming, Ser Wylis. I believe war will accompany it. Surely you have heard the rumours surrounding the children of Cersei Lannister."
Ser Wylis squirmed in his seat. "What of them? They're just rumours, idle gossip, nothing else."
"I wish that were how the rest of the Seven Kingdoms views the rumours. I have been travelling around Westeros, and many do not share your sentiment. Believe me, Ser Wylis, war is as certain as winter."
"Ahem, well, we shall see." Ser Wylis took a gulp of his ale before changing the subject. "Lord Whitestark told me you would stay a night or two before returning to Winterfell. Is that right?"
"I have some cargo which needs to be transported to Winterfell for my father. You are to arrange for some men to help move it from the docks to here, then to a river boat. I require some of your guards, although I would probably prefer ones who know a pommel from its point. Four should be enough. I also need five barrels of sweetwine. I will pay for it in gold. It is to be given to the ship called the Wolf Bitch. Which will also require painting a new name. I'm sure the Captain will be able to come up with something. Oh, and he thinks I'm called Alayne Stone. I didn't want my identity revealing to an untrustworthy sea captain."
Ser Wylis looked stunned by her demands. "Anything else?" he asked.
"The sooner the better," Arya replied. "Are there any decent wine merchants who sell strong sweetwine in White Harbor? It is for the captain and crew as part of the payment. I can get it myself and wait for your men at the ship."
"I'll arrange for them to meet you at the docks."
"If they wish for help with the painting, then my father would be most grateful, although I hear they are quite capable of doing it for themselves. Once they leave, I want a ship to follow them, see where they go. Once they make their first port, I want your men to report back. Lord Whitestark will be most grateful for your help."
"Lord Whitestark cannot order me about," Ser Wylis turned red.
"No, you're right, he can't," Arya agreed. "But he is paying you to do this. And paying most handsomely, might I add."
Ser Wylis stared at her, deep in thought. His lips pressed together while his bushy moustache twitched.
"I might be able to organise a boat straight from the docks. My own boat is readied for any moment. It is the second most luxurious after my father's, which is currently near Winterfell. You could either stay here for the night, or start your journey in a couple of hours."
"What is the catch?" Arya raised an eyebrow. She didn't trust his sudden generosity.
"None. I know it is what my father would want me to do. We are building a fleet of ships, which I am certain are not all for trade. I am not the fool you think I am, Lady Arya."
"I never took you for a fool. Quite the opposite, in fact. Yet you want me gone."
"I assume you wish to reach Winterfell as soon as possible. There are tidings which have… concerned me. And you may be right about war coming."
"What tidings, Ser Wylis. Speak plain."
"The Storm Crow is missing. I have sent ships looking for it. I am aware there was a storm a fortnight ago, but even so, it should have docked in White Harbor over a sennight ago."
Arya frowned. She was certain the Storm Crow was a Nights Watch ship.
"I saw nothing on my trav…" she stopped. She remembered the ghost ship in Braavos which sank in the harbour, as well as the man she thought to be Bobono in a canal boat on his way to the Sealord of Braavos. Had it in fact been Tyrion Lannister? He had played the dwarf in her previous life.
"Fuck?" she swore. "Oh, I'm sorry Ser Wylis, I've spent too much time around sellswords and sailors."
"I am not offended Lady Arya."
"If Cersei Lannister had any hand in this, then it will cause war."
"Why would the Queen Mother have anything to do with a disappearance of a ship?"
"Cersei Lannister wants Tyrion dead. She will do anything to achieve her goals. Even if it means declaring war on the Nights Watch."
"Declaring the war on the Nights Watch is declaring war on the North, my Lady."
"Have you sent a raven to Winterfell with this news?" she asked.
"Not yet. Would you have me do it today?"
Arya nodded. "Send the raven, organise my boat and point me in the direction of a decent wine merchant."
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The Lord of every land or town, always knew the best place for local fare. Ser Wylis was the heir to White Harbor, therefore he was no different. The wine merchant was outstanding and found her a good, strong sweetwine for the sailors. Arya also bought them a barrel of White Harbor ale and cider from Queenscrown. For Captain Lovett, she bought a bottle of rum.
Happy to have sold so much wine, ale and cider in one day, the vendor offered to take them to the docks himself. He loaded them up on a cart while he went about his business of closing the shop for the rest of the day.
While he did, Arya pulled a wineskin from her belt and opened it. She took a sniff, to ensure the liquid was still in perfect condition. Once satisfied, she meandered around each barrel, lifting the stopper from the top, and pouring in a measured amount of liquid into each barrel. Then she did the same with the bottle of rum, only this time it was a smaller amount. Just enough to do what she needed it to.
Arya had returned to her seat on the cart as the vendor returned. As soon as he got up, they were off to the docks to give the captain and his sailors a parting gift.
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The cart arrived at the docks where the Wolf Bitch was moored, waiting for Arya. The captain must have been bored, for he had removed the new mast, leaving it bereft of a figurehead. The name had been removed and one of the sailors was painting the ship with a new name, the Mummer's Maiden.
She approached Captain Lovett and smiled. "I like the new name. It seems fitting not to have a figurehead. Unless you are intending to buy one at another port."
"You want us gone?" he asked.
"As soon as the cargo is unpacked, and I have given you your payment."
"Lord Baelish has been very generous over the years," Captain Lovett licked his lips, impatiently awaiting his payment.
"What is his promised payment? Remember, already he gave me a figure, I just want to know how trustworthy you are."
Captain Lovett narrowed his eyes. "A gold dragon for each sailor and five for me."
Arya smiled, the captain had been truthful, although she couldn't rely on his loyalty, although she would ensure he would never speak of their journey since leaving Kings Landing.
"Good, then we can double it," she said. Captain Lovett's face lit up. "And as a parting gift, we have five barrels of wine, a barrel of White Harbor ale and a barrel of Queenscrown cider. I would like it if you would advertise the qualities of the ale and cider throughout your travels. Lord Manderly will soon need reliable cargo ships. Where are you off to after this?"
"That is between Lord Baelish and myself," Captain Lovett said.
"So you are still honouring the contract of the movement of grain northwards?"
"You know a lot about his plans," Captain Lovett narrowed his eyes at her. "How come I've never seen you before, or heard your name mentioned? Why does he trust you so?"
"Because I'm his bastard daughter. It isn't something he wanted too many people to know about until the time was right."
Captain Lovett nodded. That explain it all. He didn't want Lady Lysa to hear about you."
"Precisely," Arya smiled, as she watched the final chest of gold being brought down the gangplank and laying at the feet of the Manderly guards. "Here," she gave him a satchel full of the agree gold coins, which he meticulously counted. "This is also for you and the crew," she gestured to the seven barrels of alcohol. That is sweetwine, White Harbor ale and Queenscrown cider. They are for the men, and this bottle of rum is for you," she held out the green bottle.
Captain opened the stopper, gave it a sniff and smiled. "The best spiced rum money can buy." He turned to his men. "Get those barrels aboard. You'll thank me for it. Put them with the food."
Arya watched as the barrels were loaded onto the ship. She held her hand out to Captain Lovett. "It has been a pleasure working with you."
He took her hand and shook it. "And you too, Lady Alayne."
With that, he left her by the docks and returned to his ship for what would become his final voyage. Arya turned to the guards who were waiting to board the boat to Winterfell.
Arya gave the guards a toothy smile. "Right then gentlemen, lead the way."