Winterfell
They ran through the snow, branches bent over the fire in the shape of shoes to help them run.
They waited in the forest, nine spears accompanying their king. The guards were alert but tired, the prince's scouts had been simulating attacks all day, always positioning themselves, always blowing their war horns, always retreating before taking a single step.
This had gone on for days.
As dawn approached, the guards tried to rest their eyes, just for a moment, because the sergeants didn't want to see, they were asleep too.
It was during this time, as the shadows of the night faded, that Mance Rider slipped in. A guard was strangled, not a sound made, not a drop of blood spilled.
He knew the way, he knew the gate he had to open, and he had passed through it before, both as a ranger and as an intruder.
Lord Roose Bolton and his supporters had grown tired of watching Orryn's maneuvers, convinced that they were nothing more than tricks while they waited for a larger contingent of troops to arrive from the Wall.
There were guards at the gate where the enemy army was camped, true, but they saw only sparse, half-dead fires, hey didn't expect a fight.
They used steel from Stannis's army, ready and sharp. They scaled the inner wall of the gate, silent as cats and began to disperse.
Each to a target, each guard with his throat slit. Mance personally scaled the guardhouse from the outside, climbed to the second floor, and killed the sergeant in his bed.
Looking out the window, Mance whistled like a bird and waited. They made their way down to the gate.
As soon as the bar was moved and the heavy doors opened, there would be a commotion. It was impossible for the noise not to be heard from inside the castle.
Like everything else in life, things can go wrong just because they do. A man might wake up five minutes earlier than usual to urinate, a baby might suddenly start crying, or the kitchen staff might try to make a special coffee that morning and wake up early.
What happened was never discovered by Mance, but a woman screamed when she saw the body of a fallen guard. The alarm was sounded and Mance's caution was thrown to the wind.
"Move the bar! Now!" He shouted and his men did their best.
Dog barks sounded and large dogs appeared to bite Mance's men, they were trained to kill.
"Look what we have here!". A strange, curvy man with thick lips and pale eyes smiled before releasing more dogs. "I knew something would happen, I almost gave up, but finally I was rewarded!".
A large dog jumped up and bit Sigmar, one of the men accompanying Mance, on the neck, and he had to redouble his efforts.
"Did you really think that would work?". The man sneered, completely unafraid, especially after his guards arrived.
Mance pushed as hard as he could, using his back to push the bar and his hands and legs to keep the dogs off him. He took bites in the process.
One managed to bite his shin, but Mance pushed as hard as he could with his last men and was rewarded with a crash as the bar fell and the gate was pushed open.
"Congratulations, you did it! You just forgot that by the time those idiots over there see us, we'll have shut everything down and I'll be skinning you alive."
Mance fell to his knees, letting the dog pull his foot. His eyes stared at something behind him, someone, something, but nothing appeared.
"Let's start with you." The strange man licked his lips and approached with a knife.
Mance stared at him, he would not be intimidated so easily. The King beyond the Wall would die with pride, he thought, until he heard a sound.
Deep and rhythmic, the sound of hooves grew louder. Mance tipped his head back to see the gate being hurriedly closed as a wave of knights came through.
Black stallions puffed smoke from their muzzles in the cold dawn. The strange man's eyes widened and he tried to retreat, but the first knight through the gates, a knight in ornate armor and a stag antler helmet, pursued him. The charge that followed prevented the gate from closing.
He ran over the stranger, but missed his sword thrust. All right, he went for the next one and Mance smiled from the ground.
His strong hand gripped the stranger's neck, he would not let him die, he would not let him escape. He knew who the stranger was, he had recognized Ramsay Snow, and he would make him suffer for his crimes.
Orryn
I struck another soldier with the Frey sigil and finally got a break. I managed to get off the horse and a squire grabbed the reins before running back behind the lines.
"Everyone dismount! Short swords in hand!" I shouted the order.
My cavalry had done a good job, we entered Winterfell like a real storm. Now that our men had already entered from the rear, being on horseback would only make a fight more difficult and make us a bigger target for hidden archers.
"Lord Wull!" I called again. "Take your assigned portion of the men, no matter if the enemies form a barricade, try to keep the fight inside the barracks and the surrounding area! Don't let them get too deep into the castle!".
Hugo Wull nodded with a grunt and led the men away, he must be thirsty for the blood of the traitors and I wouldn't stop him from washing the castle with the blood of our enemies.
"Ser Justin, I want every servant, cook, and soldier, every living person in this castle, dragged into the courtyard. No matter who are, you'll sit them here. Anyone who resists will die". I spoke harshly, and the knight nodded. "I'm counting on you to keep order too, you know what I mean...".
Ser Justin was a good man, he knew how to avoid riots and keep order in the armies commanded by my father. There would be no looting, no rape, but there would certainly be many more deaths, and perhaps some of them unnecessary.
I took my men through the hall of Winterfell, scattered bodies crowding the place, the Bolton men, ill-prepared for battle, the majority. We climbed the stairs to the main rooms, following the route I had taken on my first visit.
A small commotion was brewing on the stairs, men from the Mountain Clans clashing with men from the Ryswells. I forced my way up and met a man with disheveled brown hair at the door of a room, he seemed to be getting ready in a hurry, we must have interrupted something, a woman was screaming in terror in her room.
My sword clashed with his, and in the second exchange we had, I pierced his belly with my short sword, pulling the blade to the side and ripping his belly open. His intestines fell to the ground and he looked at me in fear before the light in his eyes went out.
Another man, who looked like him but was older in appearance, ran out in a frenzy.
"Bastard! You'll pay for what you've done!"
The man's long sword swung angrily, often in movements so wide that it hit more walls than it came close to me. The man's anger was his undoing, and his death wasn't even at my hands.
Brienne pushed him aside and towards a wall, the man slamming hard into the stones.
When he turned, he took a quick cut to the throat and fell to his knees, gurgling blood, his hands weakly trying to hold the cuts in place.
"Stop! We surrender!" A beautiful, dignified woman with brown hair wrapped in a shawl shouted, her hands raised high. A fat woman with blonde hair and a younger appearance cried next to her, trying in vain to hide.
"Take them to the courtyard with the others, search them first, they may have hidden weapons." I ordered as I took a good look at all the surrendering nobles. They were a mixture of ladies and lesser nobles, none of whom I was looking for. "Brienne, the woman who spoke, she stays".
The tall woman from Tarth took the lady by the arm and brought her before me.
"Lady?". I asked with steel in my voice.
"Barbrey Dustin." She said simply.
"Lady Dustin, will you tell me where the other lords are, I think it's better for everyone's health that Roose Bolton is found."
"If I don't know, will you kill me like you did my brothers?" She said bitterly, but with a quivering lip.
"Were they your brothers? Those two over there?" I pointed to the two bodies on the floor and she shuddered. "I'm not a monster, Lady Dustin, but accidents can happen... especially when I have to search the entire castle for the damned assassin." I tried to intimidate her a bit more.
"As I recall, that wing was for the Starks themselves, not honored guests. Where Roose Bolton went..."
"He fled through the Godswood as far as I know, I can't guarantee anything at this point, but Roose fled at the first sign of danger like the treacherous coward he is." Lady Dustin replied, uncertain and somehow angry.
"Take her to the yard with the others." I ordered and Brienne gave me a worried look.
"Orryn, shall we send someone after Lord Bolton? In the Godswood, I mean."
"No, I already have someone taking care of everything there." I said with a wry smile and went downstairs with the rest of the men.
There were more battles to be fought in other wings of the castle, I didn't care, one by one I would crush them and the north would finally be pacified, finally free of traitors.
Somewhere near Winterfell
Roose ran with his most trusted men, those who had long since learned the price of disobeying or questioning his orders.
His sleep didn't come easily, and strange as it may seem, he spent the whole night worrying and thinking about how to stabilize the North. They should starve an entire army outside the walls, but the prince was more interested in creating a commotion than attacking.
'He's just waiting for more troops, you can bet on that'. Roger Riswell had said, and Roose had to agree, there was no way we could attack the walls of Winterfell with just that many men. But 6,000 soldiers was no small feat.
When the alarm sounded, Roose finally understood. When he saw the knights coming from the window of the Solar, when he saw the number of them, he knew he was doomed if he got caught, he knew his defenses wouldn't hold.
He ran. He ran to the Godswood and followed the route that had been set in case of emergency, a route that only he knew. He would regroup at the Dread Fort, beat them through exhaustion, Roose was nothing if not patient, they would have no food.
If all goes wrong, I can go to the Twins, Walder Frey has more granddaughters for me to marry. He thought easily, his current wife Walda was already a goner. Surely Walder wouldn't mind.
The horses ran through the woods, and even Roose could feel his heart pounding against his chest, afraid they would be caught.
Roose and his men ran for what seemed like hours, and when the horses grew tired, they had to stop at a stream, a small tributary of the White Knife, the animals needed to drink, they needed to rest. The sun was high, but no column of smoke rose in the direction of Winterfell.
He allowed himself to sit on a rock, he allowed some of the men to do the same, just to stretch out and rest for a moment. Tired men are slower than normal, and he couldn't allow himself to be slow.
That's when an arrow came through, hitting one of the guards right in the neck. The steel was drawn quickly and more arrows whizzed by. They came from different angles and it was impossible to see who was firing them. His loyal men died one by one.
A man appeared at the edge of the trees, not very tall but well built. He wore a gibbon with bronze scales, and the white curls in his hair gave him an air of seriousness that didn't match his young face.
"I believe this is the Lord of the Dread Fort". The stranger said with a thick, rough accent; he was not from these lands, Roose thought, this man was a savage.
"The Prince orders us to take you alive Lord Bolton, I hope you won't resist." He said it almost mockingly and his men bristled, a savage would not mock the best the Boltons had to offer.
"What if I don't want to surrender without a fight?" Roose said, gripping the hilt of his sword even tighter.
"We fought, and frankly, I'd like that." The man said smiling.
Almost as if on cue, another man appeared, then another and another, and Roose's guards were outnumbered.
How come we didn't see so many of them coming? He thought bitterly and lowered his sword. Worse, how come these savages have new steel swords?
His hands were tied, he was searched, but nothing else happened... to him.
"The Prince asked for Lord Bolton alive, but the others... I don't see why we should waste such good steel." Sigorn said smiling. "Go on boys, what they wear and use belongs to whoever gets it first!".
Roose watched with acceptance as the wild Thenns set out to kill his men, he had already accepted defeat, he had accepted that he would be next.
Robb Stark lost his throne when he let the Greyjoy boy go after his father. I made a mistake too, I missed my chance by not confronting Stannis right away...'.
Even coming to that conclusion did Roose no good, he knew he had lost.
The Boltons lost, comment on what you thought, I'll leave my own comments in the next chapter.