Renly

He sat on the low wall and looked about Storm's End. Robert was training Edric again on the grass sward, showing him the best way to keep his balance when he swung his Warhammer, how to move his feet, what to look for in the eyes of an opponent. The boy was drinking in every word with a slight frown of concentration. Now that Robert was clean-shaven again that day it was as if he was instructing a miniature version of himself.

Renly suppressed a slight wince. Oh, the boy was having an impact on his father. Hopefully Robert wouldn't do something stupid and take him back to King's Landing with him. Cersei would not like that at all. In fact the bitch-Queen of Casterly Rock might view the boy as a direct threat to Joffrey.

He thought about the other lad for a moment. Joffrey looked nothing like Edric. Come to that he looked nothing like Robert. But then he himself looked little enough like Stannis, so you could never tell with the way the family tree twisted its branches. That said, he almost wished that Edric was legitimate. He was a nice boy, far nicer than that little monster Joffrey.

Renly looked North for a moment and then scowled a little. Yes, he was feeling it too. It seemed to be stronger here in Storm's End. What 'it' was, was of course another matter. He just felt this pressing need to be somewhere further North than he was at this time. Judging by the way that Robert and Edric would occasionally look North as well, they felt the same thing. He wondered if Stannis felt it and then dismissed the thought of their brother actually trusting in a non-rational instinct.

Hearing voices to one side he looked over to see the Castellan and the Maester stroll past, deep in conversation. Penrose had carefully searched the catacombs that no-one had even known even existed again and it looked Jurne had found something. He strolled over and as he approached the two saw him and bowed respectfully.

"So what's the latest discovery?" Renly asked with a smile.

"My Lord." Jurne replied, or rather gabbled a little from excitement, "I have found a reference in the archives. It seems that after word came of the Last Storm and the death of Argilac the Arrogant, there was a short pause before Orys Baratheon arrived here at Storm's End, and whilst Argella waited for him in defiance, having proclaimed herself the Storm Queen, she gave orders that 'her father's things' be put away safe for 'another day'. Now, every thought that such words merely referred to her father's personal possessions – but what if they did not?"

He thought this over and then nodded. "Yes – but wait. Didn't her own garrison rebel against her and hand her over to Orys in chains?"

"Aye," Penrose said quietly. "But what if that was all a mummer's farce? To hide the relics and the tombs and anything else they made it look as if there had been a riot and a rebellion against Argella?"

Renley stroked his chin thoughtfully. "That would make sense," he muttered. "Has anything else been found there?"

The other two men looked at each other, before the Maester nodded slowly. "I have translated the runes around the statue," he said quietly. "The sword is Stormbreaker. The legendary sword of Durran Godsgrief, or so the legends say."

The hairs on the back of his neck rose up and he shivered a little, before looking over at where the sword was resting, on a table, wrapped in a cloak, with Ser Barristan Selmy watching over it. The sword fascinated him. But then that was unsurprising, it fascinated everyone who saw it. That is, everyone that Robert allowed near it. His brother was as transfixed by their ancestral sword as anyone else.

And oddly enough it was Ser Barristan Selmy who seemed the most fascinated by the tombs of the Durrandons. Although the statue troubled him. He did not blame the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard – the statue troubled him too. The sight of those stone eyes burning red and that terrible voice speaking, telling Robert to go North…

"Thank you," he said quietly, dismissing the two and then he strode over to the table and the old Kingsguard, who seemed to have one eye on the sword and the other on Robert. "Ser Barristan."

"My Lord," the older man said with a respectful nod. "His Grace seems to be enjoying his training session with his son."

Renly looked over to the two, where Robert was now crouched at the same level as Edric, adjusting his stance a little. Both had almost identical brilliant smiles on their faces. "The art of the Warhammer, Ser Barristan. Naught else like it for my brother. Although I do think that he will soon be pressing to learn how to wield this weapon."

"He already has," Selmy said with a slight grimace. "Very early this morning I am told. I saw you talking with Ser Cortnay and Maester Jurne. Is there any further news about the catacombs?"

"Apparently the sword has a name. Stormbreaker."

Selmy blinked hard at this. "Gods be good," he breathed, "Do we really live in a time where legends come alive again? My ancestors fought for the Storm Kings and Stormbreaker was said to be a mighty weapon. No-one has seen it for many centuries though."

"You saw the statue, Ser Barristan," Renly said quietly. "You saw it."

Selmy's head dipped for a long moment. "I did," he said softly. "And suddenly I have… doubts. About the Seven. Something calls to me my Lord. I… cannot say what. Some part of me that has the blood of the First Men, some part of me that wishes that there was a Godswood here. Strange to think that I should have such thoughts now."

"Renly! Ser Barristan!" Robert was striding towards them now, as Edric continued to practice his swings. "What do you think of him?"

The Kingsguard cast an eye at the lad. "He swings it well your Grace. As if he was born to it."

"Aye," Robert said as he grabbed a mug of weak ale and then drank from it. "Gods I've got a thirst on me. And I ache like I have not for years! But… 'tis good to be here again. And to spar properly."

And it was true. Robert was still fat, but a little less than before and there was an energy to him, a life that fair crackled off him like lightning. "Robert, Jurne had news. The sword of the Durrandons… well, it has a name."

His brother looked at him sharply. "What name?"

"Stormbreaker."

Robert stared at them astonished. "He is sure?"

"He is sure."

There was a long pause and then Robert's face set in a look of implacable determination. "Very well then. Ser Barristan?"

"Your Grace?"

"It seems that I require training in the use of such a sword. You are the finest swordsman that I know of. Will you assist me?"

The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard blinked at his king for a moment and then he nodded. "With everything I have your Grace."

"Good, because we have little time. I was right. War does march on the Seven Kingdoms. Why else would we find Stormbreaker now? What gods now control our destiny?" He looked over at Edric, who had stopped practicing and was now looking at them with concern. "My son, where does the wind call you?"

The boy looked confused for a moment – and then a look that seemed to mirror his father crossed his face. "North, father."

"North indeed. Pack your things. I am sending you and Ser Cortnay to Winterfell. You'll learn to fight there. And we-" Robert looked at Renly and Selmy, the latter looking as if he had heard the horns of war itself judging by the way that he was flaring his nostrils, "We are going back to King's Landing. The Realm must be put in order."

Jory
The moment that he caught sight of the Broken Tower he let out a deep sigh of relief that he hadn't even known that he'd been holding in. Winterfell. They were within sight of Winterfell.

It wasn't as if they had had a hard or difficult journey, the Kingsroad had been its usual self and had even been repaired in a few places, so they had made good progress. It had instead been the constant vigilance required the entire time, that need to eye any fellow travellers on the road (especially those on horseback) carefully and also keep an eye on the treeline whenever the road went through a wood.

And with every league that passed he found himself marvelling over the difference in the little lordling. When they had left White Harbour he'd been riding on Annah's lap, bundled in furs and yet looking around him with an increasingly keen gaze. These past two days he'd been on a horse of his own, albeit one that was tied to that of one of Lord Manderly's men. He wanted to learn how to ride. He wanted to learn how to use a bow. He wanted to learn how to use his dagger. He wanted so very many things!

So no, he was not the same boy. Lord Arryn would likely not recognise him, without his pallor and the dark circles under his eyes. Instead he looked like a healthy little boy. He had not had a shaking fit for days now, and Jory stared at the trees fiercely in an effort to hide his glare of fury. How could someone do that to the child?

Hearing hooves to one side he looked back to see Duncan, the man in charge of Lord Manderly's escort, approach. "Winterfell is ahead – we should prepare to enter the castle in a manner befitting the son of Lord Arryn."

He nodded at that. "Aye, we should. Banners to the fore if you please." He then waved at Willets and the Valeman trotted up. "Winterfell approaches. We need to announce the arrival of Robert Arryn."

Willets, who was a terse man of few if any words, nodded shortly and then smiled crookedly. "We have a banner," he said quietly, before nodding and then riding off to talk to Rikson, who fumbled in a saddlebag.

And so it was that some hours later the party clattered though the main gate of Winterfell, led by the sky-blue falcon soaring against a white moon, on a sky-blue field of House Arryn and the white merman with dark green hair, beard and tail, carrying a black trident, over a blue-green field of House Manderly.

They had of course long been seen and noted and reported on and as they drew rein Jory could see the familiar figures of Lord and Lady Stark striding towards them. He dismounted and bowed formally to them both as they drew up to him. "My Lord, my Lady. I brought Robert Arryn, the son of Lord Arryn, the Hand of the King, to you. I have fulfilled my oath to Lord Arryn that I would bring him here safe and sound."

Lord Stark looked at him and then nodded. "You have done well Jory Cassel." And then he smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "Lord Manderly sent word of your departure. You have made good time."

"And you must be Robert," Lady Stark said with a reassuring smile at the now solemn little boy on his horse, which was now being held by the bridle by Willets. "I am Catelyn Stark, your aunt."

"And I am Lord Eddard Stark, your uncle," Lord Stark rumbled. "Welcome to Winterfell."

The little lordling stiffened in the saddle a little and then nodded solemnly. "Aunt. Uncle. I am very pleased to see you." And then he swallowed. "Lady Stark, your hair is like my... my mother's and…" He stopped there, his face slightly twisted as he obviously tried to hold back his tears. The boy was young and tired and had been travelling for so very many days.

Lady Stark quickly smiled and reached out and gathered him into her arms as he slumped out of his saddle and then allowed her to take him away, followed by an anxious Annah. Willets and Rikson stamped, bowed and then followed them, leaving Jory and lord Stark with the rest of the men.

"You've done well," Lord Stark said with a smile at the mounted men. "There is hot food and ale waiting for you in the barracks. Beds too and baths. My thanks to Lord Manderly will go to White Harbour today by raven, and I'll make sure that he knows of your good service."

The men nodded and bowed, well-pleased, and as they passed on to the barracks Lord Stark turned to Jory. "A powerful escort," he said quietly. "Why such numbers?"

"I have much to tell you, my Lord. Lady Stark too. Perhaps we should talk in private? The nurse, Annah, will need to be there too."

Lord Stark looked at him and then nodded. "Let us go to my solar then. Given that this is likely about my nephew, I will ask your uncle to be there too."

"Maester Luwin too my Lord. There is something that he needs to see. Oh," and he pulled out the sealed leather wallet. "I also have a letter from Lord Arryn my Lord."

Ned
By the time that Cat and a grim-faced Annah entered the room Ned had read and re-read Jon's letter. It worried him.

"My dear Ned.

"Thank you for your letter and your warning about bad products coming out of the West. You may be very sure that I will be keeping a close eye on the West indeed. I would like to know how you smelt the trouble on the wind, but that is a conversation that we must have face to face I think. I know how hard it is for you to come to Kings Landing, just as you know how hard it is for me to come to Winterfell, so perhaps a meeting in Riverrun instead? I will send word soon.

"In the meantime I entrust the care of my son to you for fostering. It is time that he knew his family in the North. And from goodbrother to goodbrother I must tell you that he worries me. His mother smothers him with too much affection at times and because the child is sickly she often refuses to let him out of her sight. Hopefully by fostering him with you I can bring him out of her shadow and turn him into an Arryn of the Vale. I am sending his nurse Annah with him, who knows about his medicine, and also two of my men, Willets and Rikson. All have served me well over the years and should be trusted.

"News might reach you soon about events here at King's Landing. Your help might be required. I will write more soon.

"Jon Arryn, Hand of the King, Lord of the Vale, etc, etc."

So Jon knew something, as they had suspected. What exactly did he know though? How long had he known it? Who suspected that he knew it? Was the news from Lysa Arryn in that other future that the Lannisters had poisoned Jon accurate, given what that future Cat had told Robb about her sister's near-madness? So many things to consider, so many things to worry about.

Luwin and Rodrik Cassel were quietly talking to Jory in the corner. He glanced at the group and then made a mental note that none of them would die in the future. Not if he could help it. And then Cat and Annah entered.

"Jory – your report please?"

"Lord Stark, we sailed North on a ship commanded by Ser Davos Seaworth, one of Lord Stannis Baratheon's best men. And when we drew up to the East of the Fingers Ser Davos came to me with most worrying news. One of the men that joined the crew at King's Landing was a ne'er-do-well, a man who was going to damage the ship enough to force it to seek harbour and once there he intended to set a fire, slip a knife in my ribs and vanish in the confusion with Lord Arryn's son."

Ned and others all stared at him, whilst Rodrik scowled and muttered something about never trusting a bloody sailor.

"Why would he kidnap my nephew?" Cat asked faintly, looking horrified. "For coin?"

"He had orders my Lady. Ser Davos questioned him most carefully and discovered the name of the man who had given him those orders. Lord Petyr Baelish."

Ned looked at Jory quickly. According to Robb, Littlefinger had promised him help in King's Landing, but then either betrayed him or been outmanoeuvred. Either way he was not to be trusted. And then he looked at Cat. She had turned whiter than milk.

"You are sure about this, Jory Cassel?" Cat asked. "I know Lord Baelish. I grew up with him."

Jory reached into his pocket and pulled out a letter. "Ser Davos lacks his letters, my Lady, but this was written by Lord Manderly."

She looked at Ned, received his nod and then took and opened it, after reading it quickly. "It is as he says," she said in a voice filled with resigned shock. "Petyr Baelish is not the man I knew. He can no longer be trusted." She handed it over to Ned, who glanced at it quickly. Yes, it all was as Jory had said.

"Thank you Jory," Ned said quietly. "You have done good work."

"My Lord," Jory broke in, "There is more. When Ser Davos found out the plot he ordered that the guards on Lord Arryn's son be doubled. One of the guards knocked over the medicine for Lord Arryn's son, for his shaking fits. Ser Davos reassured us that he knew of an apothecary in White Harbour who could probably ascertain what the medicine was and then make up some more. But when Ser Davos and Annah went to the apothecary – well, Annah I had better let you tell the tale."

Annah was a slightly hard-faced Valewoman about the same age as Jory, if Ned had to guess, and she stepped forwards and pulled out a stone jar from a pocket. "My Lord, my Lady, Ser Davos brought me to the apothecary – Barlan he was, by name – and we showed him the medicine that Lady Arryn had directed me to give young Robert Arryn.

"But when Barlan inspected he frowned and sniffed it and then sneezed most violent and held it away from him. And then he asked us why we had brought him poison instead of medicine."

Ned stared at her, as did all the others bar Jory, who was standing there with his hands behind his back, as grim-faced as his father had ever been. Cat looked openly horrified. "Poison? Surely not?"

"Poison my Lady," Annah said in a voice like iron. "He was most clear. Said that it was a mixture of some kind of metal and powdered chalk."

"My Lord, my Lady, Lord Manderly questioned the man and gave me this to give to you about what he said it was. Something from Essos I believe." And Jory handed over a second letter bearing Manderly's seal.

Ned took it opened it, with Cat suddenly standing next to him, and they both read it, finishing it at about the same time. When they finished it he met her appalled gaze. "Who," she said with a note of horror in her voice as she sank into a chair, "Who… could have done this? Why would they do it?"

All of a sudden Ned had some horrible suspicions in his head, but he watched as an ashen-faced Luwin inspected the contents of the jar. "'Tis called Shadow Root my Lord. I have witnessed this once before. It is not common and it is used over time to weaken someone and give them fits."

"Aye," Annah said – and there was fury in her voice – "And we were told that we could not simply stop giving it to the little lordling, but instead diminish how much he got day by day, to wean him off it."

"Exactly right," Luwin said as he stoppered the jar and then brushed his hands clean. "People who have been poisoned by this noxious powder do best by being exposed to less and less of it as time goes on, until they are free of it."

"We have done so," Annah said quietly. "And Lord Arryn's son is greatly changed as a result. He has not had a shaking fit in many days now and every day that passes he… changes, my Lord. He is a different boy from the one that left King's Landing. He has come alive."

"Aye, I can testify to that my Lord," Jory said with a smile. "When I first met him, in King's Landing, I thought – your pardon my Lady, I mean no offence – that the boy was a lackwit. But with every day that has passed since White Harbour he has indeed changed. Fair bombards you with questions about the world around him for a start."

"My Lord," Rodrik Cassel rumbled as he stood, "I must tell the guards to watch every visitor from the South. If there has been one attempt to seize the lad, along with an attempt at poisoning him, who knows what else will come to threaten him – and Winterfell?"

"Agreed," Ned said after a moment of thought. "Warn the guards. Luwin – will you inspect the boy, once he awakes? I think that we would all feel happier once we knew that my nephew is free of this poison. Jory, my thanks again. And you too Annah. I have no doubt that Lord Arryn will also send his thanks once he knows of all of this."

"He should know soon, my Lord," Jory sighed. "Ser Davos sailed South with all the information we have just given you."

Ned nodded. "Good. Thank you all." And then he watched all but Cat file out of his solar. Once they were gone and the door was closed he turned to his wife. "Cat?"

She stood shakily. "He is but a boy! Why would someone poison him?"

He grimaced. "Robb said… that the other you, the you from the future, said that Lysa was, well, unstable. If not insane." There. The word was out. It was brutal, but it was out. "She dotes on the boy, but she needs him to be dependent on her."

There was a pause whilst Cat struggled to absorb this. "Ned, my sister…"

"Sat in the Eyrie and refused to lift a finger to help you, or our son during his war, according to Robb's memories. And he said that you told him that Lysa was… wrong in the head. For such a person this might make sense. The 'medicine' would make him totally dependent on her. I like it not, but it is the only conclusion that I can come to. Where did she get this medicine, from whom and for what purpose?"

Cat looked at him desperately and then closed her eyes in defeat. "I do not know," she whispered. "But we cannot allow her anywhere near him until we have more information."

He nodded and then held her in his arms. "I know," he whispered. "He's just a boy. But that boy is the son of Jon Arryn, and I will protect him, no matter what it takes."