WhiteTree, or so it was called in Sam's old maps, barely counted as a village, a few houses hidden beneath a massive weirwood tree. The face carved into it had a gaping open mouth. Inside it, Jon found only ash and bone. Human skulls being the only ones he found. He returned to the Old Bear, carrying one.
"That's the fourth empty village we've found, Lord Commander. They all seem to have left in a hurry, not too long ago. Perhaps we can still find them."
"Giant, Tollet, bring the hounds, see if they can track the smell. The rest of you, two men searching each house, make sure we didn't miss anything." He turned back to his squire. "Just our luck. We should send a raven, keep Castle Black up to speed." Joer Mormont took out a quill and parchment and began writing. "Here, take it to Tarly."
The men of the Night's Watch rested beneath the smaller trees, most having grown weary, four villages inhabited only by rotting bones had left most of the men shaking in their boots from more than just the cold.
"Was there anything in White Tree?"
"Empty houses, ash and bones." Jon handed Sam the letter. "The Lord Commander wants it sent to Maester Aemon."
As Sam freed a raven from the cages. Jon Snow looked around, his eyes finding Jaime Lannister. It was strange, Jon had expected the Kingslayer to run before even reaching Castle Black. Yet he had dutifully followed all the way here. He'd been no less prickly about it, but he'd obeyed his orders.
"I've been drawing maps, of the paths we took here"
"These look great, Sam." Indeed they did, each one better than the last as Tarly had perfected his craft. Detailed drawings of mountain paths and points of interest.
"Thank you. I was thinking if the Night's watch ever had to travel these roads again, they would have an easier time of it." Sam smiled. Jon was impressed, where most men had been worn down by their travels, Sam seemed to grow bolder by the day.
The City Watch was two thousand strong, more than half participating in this madness and although severely dwindled in the fighting, hundreds still remained. Alone and as she was, she would, at best, defeat a hundred something before needing to retreat for the day.
Ser Maria calmed herself, she would need help if she was to retake the Red Keep. She focused, searching her mind for a way to get some help.
She climbed atop a fountain in King's Landing, the surrounding square crowded. She had been trained to speak to armies, and she was, in a manner of speaking.
"People of King's Landing!" Her voice boomed beneath her helmet. She had already drawn some eyes to her but now, she had an audience. "Long has the City Watch served only their pockets, rather than the justice they were sworn to uphold! Long have they terrorized those they were sworn to protect, acting no better than common bandits!" There were some murmurs of agreement from the crowd, but they were hardly unanimous.
"And now that your King feeds you, now that he paves the long neglected roads that bring you food and wares, the City Watch betrays him! They have sieged the Red Keep! King Robert freed you from the tyrannical madness of the Targaryens, and they would have him unseated for a usurper, they would plunge the Seven Kingdoms into a war of succession!" They were getting riled up now. Perfect. She looked to the crow in search of familiar faces.
"You! You are an innkeeper are you not? How many of your beds have the King's tourneys filled?" She turned to another man. "And you, blacksmith! How many knights in need of armor and weapons were brought to King's Landing?"
"Far more than I can count."
"King Robert is truly generous to the smallfolk, beloved by all! And the City Watch would have him slain! I would lead you all to victory, retaking the Red Keep and ensuring you all enjoy an era of peace and prosperity!"
"Blacksmith!" She tossed him her pouch of gold "Bring out every weapon you've in store and arm any that can wield them"
"And why should we follow you? You're just a woman!"
"You fool, she's the champion of the Hand's Tourney!" said one "She slew the Mountain-that-Rides with a single blow!" shouted another, "She saved my life!" came a familiar voice.
Ser Hugh of the Vale, made his way through the crowd towards her "And I would pledge allegiance to her." He drew steel. "You have my sword. And those of any knight loyal to the king left in the city!"
"Well, you heard the woman, arm yourselves!"
Ser Maria descended and approached Ser Hugh. "Stay close to me, I'll need you alive when this is over."
By the crack of dawn, the invading men had surrounded Winterfell, hiding among the buildings of Winter town, torturing the inhabitants who were unlucky enough to not escape into the castle. They'd set up small makeshift siege engines and battering rams. Taunting those in the castle by launching the flayed bodies of their victims over the walls. But for all their blustering, any attempt to pass the gates were met by the men being riddled with arrows.
They'd attempted grappling hooks and ladders to climb over walls, but it had ended with them falling into the moat to their deaths.
"They've now lost fifty men, my lord. We've suffered only a half dozen casualties." Said Ser Rodrick, sitting inside Winterfell's solar.
"All that means is that the cravens have wisened enough to avoid direct assaults. How long until reinforcements arrive?"
"We were not under siege when we called for them, so they are in no hurry to get here. Unfortunately, they've shot down any ravens we tried to send, so that will remain the case. I'd wager we'll have to hold them off another couple weeks, or thereabouts."
"With any luck, someone's seen the smoke and called for help, but relying on luck is a fast path to an early grave. Thank you, Ser Rodrik."
Lord Robb Stark looked over papers spread across his desk. At this point any damage that could be done to its outside, had been, anything flammable that could be exposed to arrow fire had been moved inside, stored within the various tunnels beneath Winterfell. It was those same tunnels that Robb now turned his attention too. Should any lead to the outside, or just close to it, it could serve as an entry point for infiltration, or a way to escape, should it come to that.
Grey Wind, Robb's direwolf, sat in the corner staring at him. Bran had told Robb that he could now see through Summer's eyes, more than that, that they could become one. Robb had found it hard to believe and yet, his dreams were now just as often through Grey Wind's eyes as they were his own.
Robb heard a knock on the door. Lady Catelyn made her way into the solar.
"Most of the women can't sleep and the men aren't much better. Were it simply a matter of noise, some could sleep in the crypts, but…" The screaming started again. The men outside Winterfell had taken to torturing the townsfolk nearly perpetually. "...Perhaps death would be the kinder option. They've said as much." It wounded Lady Catelyn deeply to admit such a thing.
Robb stared at the parchment beneath him once more, then looked at his mother, his eyes full of determination. "No, that won't be necessary." He began rolling up the scrolls and called Grey Wind to his side. "They'll be in Winterfell by sunrise."
In total, she'd managed to recruit eight knights and four times as many armored soldiers. She split them into two groups, each a score strong. Thankfully, they had no problem following commands or forming shield walls. Among them, besides Ser Hugh, the only one she could recognize was Ser Loras Tyrell.
Maria led them through one of the Red Keep's many passages. This particular tunnel leading them to the dungeons. Should the Gold Cloaks have taken any captives, she'll find them there.
She ordered the two groups to split, entering the dungeon hallways through different entrances and cutting off the golden cloak's means of escape. A full score of them were keeping watch over the cells, scattered about the dungeon corridors, the smaller groups were picked off one by one and the remaining ones were funneled into a trap. They found a wall of spears and shields moving in their direction and when they tried to retreat, they met another, boxing them in as they were cut down one-by-one.
Two of her knights showed exceptional skill: Ser Loras Tyrell outperformed men twice his age, his rose sigil mowing through enemies as he parried blows with expert dexterity; the other was a terror in battle, six and a half feet tall, built like a barn with the strength of ox, mostly kept quiet beneath blue armor, now stained red. Both had no problem following her commands and alone raised morale enough to hold their respective teams together.
Maria searched each of the cells, looking into them, until…
"Lady Sansa! I'm so glad you're safe!" Both women began weeping with joy. "Step away from the door, please." With one strong kick, the cell's door went flying, freeing the young girl. Sansa rushed her arms, weeping into them. Maria held her in a hug.
"I was so scared… I still am." Sansa wiped her tears away, she needed to be strong. "Lady and Septa Mordane, they killed them. I don't know where Father or Arya are."
"I'll find them, I swear." She turned to one of the knights. "The large room we passed, take her there, it's easy to defend, bar the doors, use the tunnel to retreat if need be." It pained her to leave Sansa alone again, but she didn't have a second to waste. She quickly checked the remaining cells. She was surprised to find Maester Pycelle dead, slain by sword, although who's she could not tell. But what she found next shocked her even more.
"You're.. still here?"
"Yes. Should I not be?" Cersi Lannister said calmly, still in her cell.
"They didn't come to free you? Or kidnap you?"
"Apparently not, I even asked them to let me out, yet it seems they received no such orders."
This made very little sense to Maria. If it were the Lannisters attacking the Keep, they would have every reason to free her. Could it be some third party, hoping to hold her hostage until Tywin arrived? But if so, who? Conversely, it could all be some trickery to such that the Lannisters coil claim plausible deniability for this atrocity. She would need to ponder this latter, for now, she resumed her troop's advance.
In the dead of night, a group made its way through the crypts of Winterfell, among them two direwolves. The group snuck through Wintertown, heading to the source of the screams that filled the night air, a moderately sized tavern turned into a makeshift prison. Soon thereafter, a procession of people made its way out of it, as quietly as they could muster.
The following morning, the small army surrounding Winterfell found itself in disarray.
"Commander, they've taken all our prisoners."
"What do you mean, all of them? We should have far more than they can take in one night!"
"You had most of them killed and thrown over walls, Commander."
"And our losses?"
"A score at least, it's hard to count."
"What do you mean, "it's hard to count", I did not take my troops for invalid simpletons!"
The man gulped and flinched away, but slowly opened the tavern door. "See for yourself, Commander"
The room had been turned into a slaughterhouse. corpses of soldiers torn limb from limb, as many by sword as by tooth and claw.
Maria kept making her way through the Red Keep, her troops following close behind. The Gold Cloak's slaughter had been indiscriminate, slaying young and old alike, the castle's staff cut down without mercy, only those who had escaped in time seemed to have survived. There was no time to grieve. A few of her soldiers found relatives and spouses among the dead. She had told them they could return if they so wished, instead they vowed revenge.
She came upon the small hall, where she found Syrio Forel, dead, surrounded by a dozen gold cloak corpses, sword still in his hand. She heard whimpers and a soft, labored breathing. She found Nymeria in the corner, covered in blood, grievously wounded. Maria tried to close her wounds, but it was far too late, she was breathing her last. She held her gently, hugging the direwolf in its last moments.
"You did well… You can rest now… I'll see to it that Lady Arya is safe, I swear it." Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but the wolf seemed to understand, closing its eyes peacefully as it finally passed from this world.
Maria stood, continuing her search. Her heart grew heavier by the second.
Inside Winterfell, a small number of families were reunited, hugging and crying, many more grieved the lost. Still, Robb received many thanks that day, as did the brave men who'd undertaken the rescue mission.
"You saved them." Lady Catelyn said, proud of her son.
"Had I acted sooner. More could have been saved." Lord Robb turned to Ser Rodrik. "See to it that the men are rested and recovered, then put swords in their hands."
Rodrik nodded. "We've nearly halved their numbers"
"Yet not without losses of our own. They will pay for this, every single one." And yet, Robb wondered how, merely holding the siege until help arrived would likely see the bastards fleeing once outnumbered. At the moment, he had little to work with, he'd need more information and he knew how to get it.
They'd split into three groups to better search the keep. One of them consisted of Ser Maria alone. She came upon a room full of Gold Cloaks, eighteen of them keeping watch over one of the exits to the castle, around them were the corpses of the palace guards they'd slaughtered.
Thrice flames flew from her hands, engulfing the men in fire, roasting them inside their armor. All of them burned, their skin crackling, their screams echoing through the palace halls. Only a handful were still moving. She swiftly ended their pain, crushing their skulls.
She passed by the dwellings of the Grand Maester, relieved to find it empty. The wise man had made use of the escape tunnel.
As she made her way to the agreed upon meeting point, she came upon a hallway, smelling of death and flooded with blood, it was filled to the brim with the corpses of the gold cloaks. At the end of this hallway, she saw a familiar white cape, with white hair to match. She flipped over Ser Barristan Selmy, crouching down to see that life had drained from his eyes, his sword laying beside him. He had taken a dozen men with him, but the noble knight was now dead. She stood and kept walking, trying not to look back, cutting down any that stood in her way as she walked over the corpses of the palace guards that had given their lives fighting the gold cloaks.
She reunited with her troops. Since coming to the Red Keep, half a dozen men had lost their lives in service to her. She looked down to the courtyard. Sixty of the Gold Cloaks were laying siege to Maegor's Holdfast, among them was their Lord Commander, Janos Slynt, barking orders. She began hatching a plan of attack.
Robb Stark put on his armor and made his way near his archers. He looked over the wall, between its battlements. Gazing at the invaders outside Winterfell. He cleared his throat, ready to speak as a Lord ought to.
"I am Lord Robb Stark of Winterfell. I would sue for peace. What is it that you need?"
There was silence for a good minute, and then…
"I am the commander of these fine men. We were ordered to retrieve Lords Tommen and Tyrion Lannister."
Lord Robb gestured and soon after Tyrion Lannister was there to join him. "This Tyrion Lannister?" He said tauntingly.
"Yes"
"And if we give him and his nephew to you?"
"We shall end the siege, return home. And we can all go about our lives."
Robb and Tyrion began walking back to Winterfell's great hall. "He's obviously lying."
"And yet, he does want you alive, Lord Lannister. Had he wanted you dead, his archers would have shot you, you were within their sights and unarmored.
"Thank you for that, Lord Stark," he said sarcastically.
"I would have jumped in the way myself, Lord Lannister. Regardless, the question remains. Do you wish to go with them?"
By all rights, Tyrion's answer should have been yes. And yet, those screams still haunted his sleep, long after they'd stopped. Same with the flayed bodies.
"I presume you've a plan to defeat them now?"
"Of course"
"So do I"
" Commander! I believe I saw someone moving through the hallway to the west. Looks like a man."
"Go check it then, take three others with you, probably some craven palace guard who hid from us."
Time passed and passed, yet the group did not return.
"Could be they're still chasing him, Lord Commander."
"They're not the only ones, the palace has been awfully quiet. Any new patrols?"
"No, Lord Commander."
"Lead a larger detachment, a dozen men, check on the nearest positions, retreat here at the first sign of trouble." Janos Slynt hated to admit it, but was starting to be out of his depth. The City Watch was mainly employed in resolving small affairs and skirmishes, perhaps containing a riot. Instead they were now forced into sieging Margor's Holdfast while holding the Red Keep. It was meant to be a simple assassination, but they were instead met by a force of hundreds, composed of palace guards and newly hired soldiers from the Hand's personal guard. They'd suffered heavy casualties and the Gold Cloak's morale was starting to break, six thousand gold dragons had not been enough for this and raiding the palace kitchen would only supply them for so long…
Time passed and the patrol did not return, Janos Slynt was down to forty three men, not counting himself. He looked to the gate into Maegor's fortress, his scouts had confirmed at most three dozen men inside it. Perhaps it would be best to-
"Lord Commander, we're under attack!" A wall of spears and shields made its way into the yard, blocking their exit to the north. Simultaneously, from the West, came a single Knight. Ser Maria swung her hammer, sending gold cloaks flying.
Janos Slynt saw that his men were being overwhelmed. "Retreat" Unfortunately for him, his men were not used to moving as an army. They trampled over each other to escape and those that did were met by another spear wall blocking them off. The sound of the battle rang loud. Soon thereafter, a small handful of archers began raining arrows down from Maegor's Holdfast.
Ser Maria spotted Slynt amid his men and dashed towards him. He attempted to raise his sword at her only to find it knocked out of his hand with such force that his fingers broke. She followed with a strike to his leg, nearly dislodging his knee cap and sending him tumbling to the ground. She raised her hammer, but did not bring it down. She needed him alive, for now. "Order your men to throw down their weapons"
"...Yield, you fools!"
Slowly, the gold cloaks dropped their swords and knelt. Their weapons were picked up by Maria's recruits. This was not yet a victory, dozens of the city watch yet roamed the castle, but they would be disposed of soon enough.
"Ser Hugh, see these men to the dungeons." Her soldiers celebrated their triumph in battle, but she turned her gaze to the gate to Maegor's holdfast. She approached and it slowly opened.
"I don't like it"
"I'm not asking you to like it, I'm asking you to do it. Can you?"
"The rest of the plan doesn't rely on it and it's only putting me at risk, Lord Stark." Tyrion winced, he would have vastly preferred to refuse the request, but doing it would all but guarantee the Stark's trust in him. "But yes, if it is necessary, I'll do it."
"Glad to hear it, Lord Tyrion. Now, which dagger would you find most suitable?"
Lord Robb once more donned his armor and made his way atop the walls of Winterfell.
"You want the Lannisters? You can have them. We'll give you the Imp first, tomorrow at dawn, through the West Gate. Then Tommen, at sunset"
"Why separate them?"
"To ensure you keep your end of the bargain. Tyrion will take three quarters of your forces with him and depart south. The remaining men will take his nephew."
"... Your terms are acceptable."
Robb descended the wall. Giving the signal, workers began preparations, moving heavy boxes out of storage. Theon Greyjoy was almost giddy with excitement at the prospect of fighting. Robb himself made his way through Winterfell to arrive at Bran's room, Maester Luwin sitting beside him.
"They bought it. Now all that remains is ascertaining their intentions."
Maester Luwin looked to his Lord. "And if their intentions seem innocent? Are you sure it is wise to abandon your plans?"
"To do otherwise would be beneath me."
Maester Luwin smiled. "A Stark, through and through. I'll leave the two of you to it."
Bran was the first to succeed at it. He'd gotten quite good at looking through the eyes of his direwolf. As the sun began to set, both the animals made their way out of the castle, blending into the shadows of Winter Town, there, through wooden walls, they heard them planning.
"As soon as those idiots open the gate, we rush into the castle and slaughter the lot of them"
"Thank the gods. I was starting to think that I'd…"
The wolves listened intently and made their way back, the tunnel closed behind them.
Robb left Bran's room and entered his solar, finding his mother, Tyrion, and Ser Rodrik waiting for him.
"'Tis as we suspected."
"Good," said Tyrion. "Your conscience will be clean when killing the torture obsessed mass murderers. Now, shall we get to it?"
"Joffrey, could you please fetch me some water?"
"Yes Maester Aemon" Joffrey poured some water into Aemon's cup and handed it to him.
"Sit, if you would" Joffrey did so, sitting across the Maester's desk."Your father left with the others, did he not."
"My uncle.." Joffrey looked to the Maester, his gaze was not judging him, nor mocking him when he had said it. "Yes, he did."
"Do you worry for him?"
"I do."
"As I'm sure he does for you as well. Yet he is sworn to the Night's Watch, his duties must come first, as do yours."
"You were worried I'd go after him? I'd sooner run south."
"I don't doubt you'd wish to do so, but your duties must come first. You saw the dead walk. Without the men of the Night's Watch, the realm would fall to them. The love of a family is hard to give up, but love is the death of duty."
"I'm a bastard, born of incest… It was my own supposed father that sent me here. Not even the gods have love for someone like me."
"The gods do not approve of incest, yes. Yet The Father and The Mother love all their sons just the same. They would not blame you for their sins."
A slight smile showed on Joffrey's face. "I doubt everyone will see it that way."
"Well, at the very least, I've no room to judge. The Targaryens wed brother and sister for generations."
"The Targaryens were different, theirs was the blood of Old Valyria."
"Yes, they said as much, they said they were like their dragons, closer to gods. Yet even their dragons grew old and died. Same as all other creatures, same as I will when my time comes."
Author's notes: Lost two weekends because of family related matters, so next chapter might be a little late, sorry in advance.