Cassana
The winter town, as it was now known, was still being built. Everywhere Cassana looked, men and women of all ages were working on the structures of rock and peat.
"We are making good time, my lady," Tudur Selmy urged as he rode alongside her. He frequently had to sneeze, and so his eyes were especially watery today.
"That rather depends on when the autumn ends," Cassana observed.
"We've heard no sign that winter is upon us," Maester Walys said as he rode on her other side.
Cassana was less sure. The weather was growing colder, especially at night. It may soon begin to freeze, Cassana thought, and then it will be impossible to acquire more peat.
Still, there was nothing more to be done. Everyone who could do any kind of work was busy with this winter town. Even children were at work wherever she looked.
That was why she rode out so frequently amongst them. She would occasionally take charge of a certain task, giving instructions or commands where it was necessary.
Several voices called out to Cassana as she rode past, praising House Dondarrion.
"Milady! Lady Cassana!"
Cassana turned to her right as she saw a rawboned man approaching with his head bowed. "Speak." Whenever she rode amongst the builders, she never turned away a request.
"A boon," the man begged. "Me wife and children are going hungry."
Cassana had heard this gripe before. "Rest assured, they will all be fed on the morrow."
Once a day, the labourers were invited to Blackhaven and fed a midday meal. It was always a simple affair, divided amongst thousands, but Cassana made sure that she and her daughters were always present. Alicent and Celia had long ago learned not to complain about it within their mother's hearing. She was always quick to remind the girls that looking after their smallfolk was a duty which any lord and lady should do, if they wanted those smallfolk to remain loyal.
"Indeed, milady, and we're grateful for it," the man quickly replied. "But one meal does only so much to nourish. We go to bed and rise from it with empty bellies. I can manage, but the children…" He bowed low. "From a father to a mother, I beg you…" he seemed to be too nervous to finish the words.
Cassana was already fretting whether there would be enough food in Blackhaven's stores to feed all these people through the winter. But she knew that this man was one of many who fretted over their hungry children.
"In that case," she told the man, "we shall no longer provide the midday meal." The man was already recoiling in dismay when she continued. "Instead, when the castle has the morning meal and the evening meal, it will be served to all in the winter town."
The man bowed a second time. "The Mother herself could not be as gracious as you, Milady!"
"That will do," Cassana remarked curtly.
After the man had gone out of earshot, she turned to the maester and the steward. "I trust that this will strain us too far?"
"Lady Cassana has a good heart," began the maester, "but at this rate, I fear that these people will eat through our stores in less than a year."
Cassana felt a black wrath growing within her. She could curse the Vulture King all she wanted, but it did nothing to better her situation. Instead, she kept her composure. "I fear we shall have to petition the Iron Throne for aid, Maester Walys."
"I'll prepare the message at once," he answered. "We can only hope that the King will be gracious."
He ought to be. After all that we sacrificed so he could keep his crown… "See to it," she told the portly man. "And be sure to give my regards to Jena. It is past time my sister recalled where she came from."
The maester nodded. It was clear that he was thinking of a much more tactful way to deliver the second message.
Cassana was about to angrily ride back to the castle when she saw something in the distance.
It was a group of horsemen and a wheelhouse, making their way down the road to Blackhaven. The group flew a large banner above them. As they neared, Cassana recognised that it was brown, with three stalks of yellow wheat. Selmy!
With an astonished Tudur and the mounted guards who escorted her, Cassana spurred her horse forward to greet the newcomers.
The knights and men-at-arms, wearing the Selmy sigil over their armour, sat atop their halted horses, except for one who opened the door to the wheelhouse and spoke softly with someone inside.
A red-haired woman emerged from the wheelhouse; Cassana recognised her in an instant.
"Jocelyn!" She dismounted, approached her cousin, and accepted her embrace. "You arrived sooner than we expected."
A letter had come from Harvest Hall, written by Jocelyn herself. She was lonely, the letter said, and the children were still despondent over the death of their father. She had requested the chance to come to Blackhaven and stay for a visit. She hadn't told Cassana how long she wished to stay, and Cassana hadn't inquired when she sent her reply.
"I must admit," Jocelyn confided, "I left Harvest Hall before I got an answer from you. I reasoned that you would not turn me away."
A wetnurse emerged from the wheelhouse, holding an infant in her arms. Behind them came Jocelyn's seven-year-old daughter, whom she and Lanval had named for Cassana.
Cassana accepted the wetnurse's curtsy with a nod, kissed Little Cass on her forehead, then turned back to Jocelyn. "Where are your sons?"
"I left them behind in Harvest Hall," Jocelyn answered stiffly. "Daeron must learn his duties, and his brother would not be parted from him or his cousins. Anyway, Ser Guyard thought it better that way."
Cassana's teeth ground together for a moment. She had heard that Guyard Selmy had become regent in young Daeron's stead. She herself would never have tolerated such presumptuous behaviour, but Jocelyn had never had Cassana's resolve.
"Alicent and Celia will be thrilled," she said. "Come, let us away to the castle."
As Little Cass and the wetnurse went back into the wheelhouse, Jocelyn hesitated a moment. She stared out at the growing winter town in amazement. "Much has changed since I was last here," she exclaimed.
Cassana said nothing to that. She was still coming to terms with how much had changed which was invisible to the eye.
"It has been unbearable," Jocelyn admitted when she and Cassana were alone in her chambers atop the Lord's Tower. "I keep expecting to see and hear him everywhere I go."
Cassana felt uncomfortable. She had never liked emotional outbursts, but poor Jocelyn was her cousin, and had always looked to her for guidance and advice. Besides, her husband had died whilst aiding House Dondarrion with their Vulture Hunt.
Tears were going down Jocelyn's pale cheeks. "I haven't had the nerve to sleep in our bed for the last three weeks! It feels so empty!"
"Have you heard aught from your sister?" Cassana asked. Jocelyn's twin, Falia, had married Keir, who'd begun a new knightly house called Hasty on land which had once belonged to the traitorous Bollings. She had apparently vowed to visit Jocelyn, but Cassana had not seen her at Lanval's funeral.
"She was two days too late," Jocelyn replied. "Anyway, she had nothing to say. She cannot possibly understand! It was easy for her, she got exactly what she wanted! I did not love Lanval as she mooned at Keir. . It was sheer luck that he rose high enough to be a fitting match!" She covered her face. "Oh, gods, forgive me. I should not speak that way about mine own sister."
Cassana, who had said far worse about her own sister and felt no qualms about it, was growing weary of these outbursts. "I feel the same about Caspor," she admitted.
Jocelyn looked at Cassana with wide eyes. "Of course. I spent days weeping for Caspor. So young, and so kindhearted… It is terrible enough for me to lose Lanval, but I cannot imagine what your burden must be."
"Pray to the gods that you never find out," Cassana advised, hoping that this would make a polite end to their discourse.
Jocelyn hesitated before she asked her next question. "If you have anything to suggest…"
Cassana sighed. "You must be strong for your family, Jocelyn. It is our burden in life, that we must be strong."
"Is that truly what we must be?" Jocelyn shook her head. "Most men seem to dislike when we are strong."
"Of course they do," Cassana countered impatiently. "They are shamed by our strength, so they must make us feel weaker than they. But I will not play that game, and neither should you."
Jocelyn gave a small nod. "You were always so good at being strong," she murmured.
"Only because I had to be," Cassana replied.
Jocelyn chose that moment to finally change the subject. "Has there been any word of the Vulture Hunt?"
"None yet," Cassana replied. "Not since Baldric left Nightsong."
"Lord Caron has joined the hunt?" Jocelyn's back straightened. "How did you manage that?"
Cassana had worried about this, ever since she'd sent word to the Iron Throne for aid. She did not know how Jocelyn would take to the notion that Lord Caron could be persuaded to lend his support. If they had done so first, mayhaps Lanval might still be alive.
"The Vulture King attacked Caron's territory," she lied. "He saw the sense in working together after that."
As she'd expected, Jocelyn grew wroth at this revelation. Anger sharpened her features, and her voice became harsh. "Would that he'd supported his neighbours from the start!"
Cassana felt a twinge of guilt at her own prideful role in Lanval's death, but she was hardly going to admit that to Jocelyn now. "The marchers have been in disarray for years," she observed airily.
Jocelyn nodded in commiseration. "Those bloody Blackfyres. May the Father judge them all someday."
Thankfully for Cassana, the conversation slowly drifted towards easier subjects. They spoke of the winter town and its progress, they spoke of the final harvests being brought in, and whether winter would begin this year or the next. That carried them through to the evening meal, which they shared with thousands who either ate in the hall or else crowded on the grounds.
It was easier to entertain her new guests in the hunting wood the following day. The weather proved good for riding, much to the girls' delight.
At first, Cassana did not ask Jocelyn when she wished to return home. After five days with not even a word from her, Cassana began to offer slight hints to her cousin.
Jocelyn seemed to be ignorant or obtuse; she did not accept the hints regarding her sons, and remained determined to stay in Blackhaven without any definitive end.
Cassana found herself growing repulsed; she had seen a similar weakness in her mother for years, long before Bella Dondarrion had taken her life. Cassana had hoped that Jocelyn might take encouragement from Cassana's example, but she seemed to revert to her younger days, when she'd lived in comfort and ease under Cassana's protection.
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It was a sunny morning when Cassana was awoken by the sound of horns from the battlements. She got dressed as hastily as she could, cursing the clumsy maids that simply got in her way.
"What news?" She cried out as she hurried across the grounds.
"Dondarrion troops approaching!"
Cassana breathed a great sigh of relief. Then she recalled what had happened the last time that she'd expected Baldric to come home in triumph. She steeled herself for disappointment.
The remaining guards of Blackhaven shouted for the large crowd of smallfolk on the grounds to make way. It took them quite some time to stir themselves enough to make a thin corridor from the keep to the front gates. Accompanied by Jocelyn and Maester Walys, Cassana slowly approached the gates as they swung open to a lowered drawbridge.
The banner which they flew was stained with dark smudges, blotting out part of the lightning bolt. It seemed that all of those who strode beneath the gate were wounded. Only one man was still horsed, and he was the last man that Cassana would have wished to see.
"Milady," Royce declared. He gingerly dismounted with the one arm which wasn't wrapped in crude bandages. Then he gave Cassana a low bow.
"What news?"
"There was a great victory," Royce announced. "Baldric and Lord Caron broke the Vulture King's forces between them!"
Those in earshot began to cheer. As word travelled, others joined in the jubilation.
Cassana wanted to celebrate with them, but she did not so easily trust these words. She tried to silence the crowd, but they were too far gone to notice. She turned to Royce. "We will discuss this further inside."
Royce and the other arrivals followed her into the keep. Cassana ordered two servants to lead them to the infirmary, even as she followed behind with Royce at her side.
"If there was such a victory, then why is my husband not here?"
"The Vulture King escaped defeat, my lady," Royce replied in a humble and apologetic tone. "We were wounded, but fit to travel, so Lord Baldric sent us back with the good word."
Cassana believed that. Baldric was always so keen on seeing the best in a situation. But his good word was less good than she'd wanted. The Vulture King is still alive.
Royce was not finished. "It pains me to say this, but the victory was dearly bought."
Cassana turned to look at him. "Say on," she commanded.
"Your brother," Royce began, then faltered. "Lord Titus is badly wounded," he added, as if he thought Cassana had forgotten her brother's name. "He has lost a leg, last I heard. He may very well lose the other, too."
Cassana relaxed inwardly. It would not do to show such a response, so she kept her voice stern. "What befell him?"
"He led an excursion into the mountains," Royce explained. "The Vulture King ambushed him and cut them all down. I'm afraid that Ser Branston Straw managed to rescue your brother, but he was slain in the attempt."
Cassana could not stop an expression of grief flash across her face. Branston had been her husband's squire, and his father had died for his loyalty to House Dondarrion. "A most valiant man," she lamented. Yet another injury inflicted on me by Titus.
"Indeed," Royce affirmed.
They had reached the infirmary. Seven of the men were placed on beds so that Septa Perianne and her assistants could treat them. The others declared that they were fit enough to rejoin the garrison.
Whilst this was happening, Royce turned back to Cassana. "If I may ask, Lady Cassana, who were those people in the grounds?"
"My people," Cassana replied icily. "They are building the new winter town so that they have a place to live before they reclaim their homes."
Royce gave her a half-smile and nodded respectfully. "Very wise of you."
A shudder went down Cassana's spine, but she did her best to ignore it. "You will come with me," she told Royce. "I want a proper account of the campaign thus far."
Royce paused only to speak quietly to one of his men, then duly followed her back to the great hall.
With Maester Walys and Tudur Selmy sitting by, Cassana asked question after question of Royce, determined to learn all that she could.
When she wasn't worried about her sons or her husband, the thought of Titus' death flitted back into her consciousness. She thought back to what she had last said to him, how she had unleashed all her bitterness towards him. She did not regret it; she certainly did not doubt that he'd deserved it. In fact, she felt herself growing sour for another reason. Baldric would want to honour him for his injuries, maybe even include him by name in a marcher ballad or two. It irked her that this was how her wastrel brother would be remembered after his death. Still, two legs in the service of our family… that is far more than I ever thought him capable of giving us.
After Royce had taken his leave and returned to the garrison, Cassana went to the castle sept to pray for her family's safety.
"Mother, Father," she whispered, "I beg you to look after my husband and my children. I have sinned against you. I have done terrible things, and I will not ask to be forgiven for them. I ask only that you judge those who are guilty, and spare those who are innocent."
Two cursed murderers, with not a shred of regret between us.
Titus' sneering words returned to her, as they always did whenever she visited the sept. She wished she could have killed him too, just as she'd murdered Maester Gerold. "Traitor," she'd whispered in his ear, then watched him writhe on the floor, clutching his slit throat. Too quick of an end. A maester betraying his vows to poison a lord. A son murdering his father. They should have been drawn and quartered. If only I could have proved it.
She continued to ruminate on her life, long after the candles she'd lit had gone out. And still, she could not remove a grain of doubt from her mind. Determined to settle it, she made her way down to the infirmary.
When she got there, the beds were empty. Only Septa Perianne was there, kneeling before the small idols of the gods.
"What's the meaning of this?" Cassana glanced around in confusion. "Have the wounded been discharged so soon?"
"Father," Perianne prayed aloud. "May your just hand smite the guilty, wherever they reside."
"I'm speaking to you," Cassana insisted angrily. She had no wish to entertain Perianne's delusions of grandeur.
"Stranger," said Perianne, "pay heed to the dead and let the wrongs done against them be avenged."
Cassana knew something was terribly wrong, but she could not place it until she heard several faint noises in the distance. There was a clash of metal, and then screams. No…
"I knew it," she snapped. She turned back to the kneeling septa. "You traitorous bitch!"
"This is your punishment," Perianne snapped. "The Vulture King was blessed by the gods to bring House Dondarrion to its knees!"
Cassana turned to flee, but something made her stop at the doorway.
The septa had begun to laugh. It was drenched with self-righteousness, with scorn, but also with triumph. It was a sound which Cassana had never dreamed would ever come from one such as this septa.
Cassana turned around and ran back towards Perianne. The septa continued to laugh where she knelt, even when Cassana picked the little idol of the Father and raised it over her head.
Once, twice, thrice… Cassana shrieked from effort and wrath alike. She did not stop striking Perianne until she lay sprawled on the ground, her head in a pool of her own blood. To make sure she was dead, Cassana struck her throat three more times with the battered idol. Breathing heavily, she turned and fled the room.
It was as she feared… her enemies had come together to plot against her. Royce's ruse had been kept only until the smallfolk had left the castle to resume work on the winter town. Nobody would have suspected an attack from the inside of Blackhaven, amongst the men who wore the sigil over their armour.
The sounds of battle grew louder as she ran through the keep. She did not know how many had fallen, or where she could go. All she knew was to find her daughters, find Jocelyn and her children, find Tudur Selmy, find Maester Walys…
She made her way to the Lord's Tower, where she'd last seen Jocelyn. Her cousin was fond of staying with the girls and reading to them in the library. Cassana called their names in a hoarse voice, worn out by her sprint.
Before she reached the library, her calls were answered.
"Come in, Cassana! Come and join us, if you have the nerve!"
Royce… She followed the voice until she found herself in the servants' quarters in the base of the Lord's Tower.
Several cots were lined up on either side of the room, with a crude fireplace on the far end. Two servants were slain, their bodies crumpled between the beds. Royce had taken one close to the lit fireplace for himself, standing over it as appeared to be in the process of undressing himself. A sobbing woman lay beneath him, disheveled and bruised, trying to pull shards of clothing over her body.
Cassana recognised her cousin immediately, and she would have thrown herself at Royce if he hadn't grabbed Jocelyn by the hair and put a dagger to her throat.
"A pity," Royce declared. "I expected you sooner. No doubt Jocelyn will appreciate your interruption."
"Cassana," Jocelyn sobbed, but Royce silenced her by pressing the dagger blade against her skin.
"All this time," Cassana snarled. "I knew that you were treacherous. I should never have let Baldric trust you. You haven't spoken a single truth since you returned!"
"I resent that, Aunt Cass," Royce laughed. "I barely lied at all! And don't worry, there was a victory, and there was a defeat. A mistake on my part, I admit. Baldric and Titus lived to fight another day, but I did manage to cut down that stupid boy of yours. The one with the pretentious name."
Kresimir… Cassana felt her heart stop. "Liar," she protested.
Royce spat on the ground. "Black as well, said the raven of the crow. How many lies have you told, you cold-hearted cunt?"
The treacherous cannot trust. "What do you want?" Cassana's voice rose to a scream.
"The truth," Royce replied. "And if you lie to me again, it will be your cousin who answers for it." Jocelyn wailed as the blade opened a cut along her neck. Blood trickled down her heaving bosom as Royce glared at Cassana. "Tell me the truth, Cassana. Who killed Maester Gerold?"
Cassana's tongue seemed to have frozen in her mouth. Slowly, with all the strength of her will, she took a breath and forced herself to speak.
"I did."
Royce's eyes widened. "You?" For a moment, Cassana thought that Jocelyn might wriggle free from his slack grip, but he recovered himself too soon.
"I thought you might have sent someone else to do your dirty work," Royce remarked in an astonished tone. "Maybe even that fool husband of yours. I never thought you would have the nerve to do the deed yourself."
"There is much you don't know about me," Cassana retorted.
Royce's expression darkened.
"So," he snarled. "You murdered the maester, did you? And so it was your fault that Tyana turned against me. You would have watched me die for your crime? Just as you had Tyana executed?"
There were tears in his eyes as his voice became shrill with wrath. Cassana found herself shaking at the notion that he might kill Jocelyn anyway.
"It was Titus," she protested. "I killed the maester to avenge my father! Your grandfather!"
That checked him. "What are you saying?"
"Titus and Gerold poisoned Father," Cassana declared. "It was Titus who set all this in motion! If you must take vengeance, take it on the man who deserves it!"
Royce's countenance was faltering, but he did not loosen his grip upon Jocelyn, who seemed to be paralyzed with shock and terror.
"You betrayed Titus just as he betrayed you," he jeered. "The gods clearly chose me to save Blackhaven from both of you."
Cassana was too alarmed to appreciate this revelation. Beside this assault by Royce, the notion of Titus betraying her was almost ordinary.
"Your brother has already had a taste of my vengeance," Royce vowed, "and he'll take a long time to die when I get hold of him again. But you still took what was mine by right," Royce muttered. "You played your games. You all did."
"She didn't," Cassana protested, gesturing to Jocelyn. "What did she ever do to you?"
Royce seemed to notice Jocelyn for the first time. He did not release her, though.
"Look at your cousin," Royce told Jocelyn, gesturing to Cassana with his dagger.
The younger woman obeyed, shaking with fear. Cassana blinked away tears as she met Jocelyn's gaze.
Royce turned back to Cassana. "It is not just vengeance I want. I warned you in my first message. I swore to wipe out all of you. Every fucking one of you who bears the Dondarrion name."
The first message. Cassana thought she might be ill. Gods help me… The Vulture King… this whole time…
His dagger cut through Jocelyn's neck so suddenly that Cassana did not even have time to blink. Jocelyn's lifeless form was already slumped on the floor when Cassana began to shriek.
Royce had already crossed the floor and grabbed her by the hair, plunged the bloody dagger into her abdomen. "I am the Vulture King," he shouted into her face, loud enough to rise over her wails of grief and pain. He rammed the knife into her stomach again and again. "I will kill all of you and take what should have been mine!" He flung her to the ground.
Despite all that she had endured, all the emotions storming inside of her, Cassana was suddenly awash with a cold clarity.
"You truly are your father's son."
Royce, who had been about to leave, stopped where he was and looked at her suspiciously. "What do you mean?"
"He was a monster," Cassana rasped, even as both her hands tried to cover the red stain growing across her dress. "He was a rapist who violated his own sister. Our father had him killed for it."
Royce stared down at her in astonishment.
"And now look at you," Cassana continued. "Even my brother would be appalled to see his son for what he is. The gods punish all evil. They have punished me, but they will punish you even more."
Royce stood stock-still, utterly aghast. "Liar. He raped a farrier's wife! Lomas told me so himself!"
Cassana sobbed from pain as he kicked her in her wounded stomach. But that only resolved her desire to hurt him, to leave her own mark upon this man who thought himself so righteous.
"Lomas was an old fool," she jeered through gritted teeth. "He would believe anything that was told to him. Did he not believe your guilt when you were accused of murder?"
Royce's spittle landed on her face. "Liar!" His voice was louder, but now his confidence was faltering.
Cassana pressed her advantage. "You think it strange that a father would want to protect his daughter's virtue? It was easy for him to find a poor woman, willing to accuse my brother of rape. He wished to spare my virtue!"
"LIAR!" Fear was freely mixed in with his wrath.
"Kinslayer," Cassana hissed, relishing what an effect she was having upon him. "Murderer of your brothers, your sisters, and now your own mother!"
Royce backed away from her, even as he burst into a sudden wail. His fingers dug into his thick beard, as if he were clawing at himself. His eyes were wide, and devoid of reason.
Praying that her daughters had heard the commotion, Cassana suppressed her whimpers of pain a moment longer. "I shall await you in the seven hells," Cassana rasped, "and I shall embrace you as a mother holds her boy."
"SILENCE!"
Royce lurched to the hearth and kicked at it with his boot. Embers scattered across the floor, or else landed on the cots.
"This will end," he rasped, almost to himself rather than to Cassana. "I will make an end of it!"
Cassana watched him spitefully, lying as still as possible to stay the pain pulsing from her abdomen. She did nothing as Royce bent down and blew furiously upon the glowing embers.
The first flames flickered and died so quickly that she thought she dreamed it. Then the carpet began to ignite. The coarse hairs crackled as the flames quickly spread. The table was next; the cloth flared as the fire began in earnest.
"Burn it all," Royce snarled. "Burn it all!" He ran out of the room, cackling to himself. "The gods chose me for this, Mother! I will burn it all! Purge this cursed place with fire!" He continued babbling, but she discerned none of his words over the crackling fire about her.
The fire's glow was too much for her blurring vision. Smoke was filling her lungs. The pool of blood around her began to bubble from the heat. Curse you, Vulture King, Cassana thought. May you burn with me tonight, and for an eternity in the seven hells. I'll be burning alongside you, no doubt, as will my brothers, and my father. We can all laugh together as we are punished for our sins. But Baldric won't be there, and neither will our children. I can endure it to spare them. I can endure anything for them. I always have.