Asha
She was getting tired of sailing into harbours and then being stared at by various people who had various attitudes towards this damned call that everyone had heard. It had been bad at Harlaw and Old Wyk. It was worse in Great Wyk. There hadn't been a dead man on the breakwater of the little harbour that she's sailed into, which was a relief. But there was a dearth of anyone who looked like a Drowned Man. Where were Damphair's men?
She shrugged it off as she strode down the gangplank after issuing orders to her crew to revictual the ship and stay close to the nearest tavern. Then she dickered with an ostler over the hire of a horse and finally rode up the hill, taking her bearings from the headlands.
It was an unpleasant thing to admit, but she wasn't looking forwards to this. It was already bringing up a lot of old memories, memories of Father's disastrous war. Mother had started to go downhill from that point.
Old Gram had helped to fill the gap a little. She had been a nursemaid and at times almost a mother to her and Theon. She'd always been there to tend to a scabbed knee or mend a broken toy. And she'd always had the most amazing stories, ones about ghosts and sprites and mischievous sea imps.
But there had been the other tales. The odder ones. There had been the one about the talking trees, the one about the antlered man and other one, the one that had made her come here. The one about the golden writing on the wall. That couldn't have been a tale plucked from the air.
Old Gram's real name was Elys Stonebrow and she'd been with them at Pyke for almost two years, until Father had abruptly dismissed her and sent her packing. She'd once asked him why, not many years ago. He'd just stared at the nearest wall (a frequent victim of his stares) and then grunted something about the woman filling her head with Greenlander nonsense, which had confused her given the fact that Old Gram had been born and brought up on Great Wyk.
The Stonebrows were an old family, or so she had heard. They had always been on Great Wyk and judging by the way that people glared at her as she approached their home they were respected. Perhaps even loved. She had that scratchy feeling about the eyes that she got when imminent potential violence was in the air. This part of Great Wyk had a reputation for being… clannish, even by Ironborn standards. Old too.
When she reached the house she dismounted. Two men were at the doorway watching her and she could tell at a glance that they were related to Old Gram. The same nose and chin. Much younger though. Both had their hands on the pommel of their swords. "Who are you and what business do you have here?"
"I am Asha Greyjoy. I want to see Elys Stonebrow. She was my nursemaid when I was a child."
The two men stared at her and then stared at each other and she watched their reaction, confused. What was going on?
The older of the two scratched his head and then took his hand off his sword. "She sent word for you to come, yesterday. But she said that you might just arrived on your own tide." He shook his head. "How… ah. She's inside. Wants to see you."
She blinked at them both and then strode through the doorway. There were others in there, people who must have heard the exchange outside, because they made way for her. Many looked as if they were on the verge of tears – or ready to kill. From the high pitched noise that occasionally could be heard from the rear of the house someone was sharpening something. Probably a sword.
She found Old Gram in a large bed, with a large number of her relatives around her. She looked older and more frail then Asha could ever remember. But there was something else about her. There was a gleam to her eye and a set to her head that she had never seen before. Previously she had been almost cautious. Now – well, she was looking at Asha in a most considering way.
"Well," Old Gram finally said to the man next to her bed, "It seems that one of our possible futures has been removed from us. She is here. The Gods have spoken."
The man – who looked eerily like her – squinted slightly at Asha. "Asha Greyjoy. You are here too soon for it to be in response to our summons."
"I came straight from High Harlaw," she replied. "I need to speak with you." She shifted slightly, feeling uncomfortable.
"Ben, you stay. Everyone else – out. We need to talk to Asha Greyjoy," Old Gram said, sounding more like a matriarch than a former nursemaid. "Off you go."
Once the others had left she settled herself into a slightly more comfortable position. "This is my oldest son, Benjen. I sent for you because I am dying. Oh, don't look so surprised! Death comes like an old friend, taking away the pain and loss of so many things like being a widow. Bunions too. And you can take that look off your face. I'll take my time dying, I'm stubborn that way. Besides – there's a lot to be done. Now – you are here before you got my summons. Why are you here?"
Asha ran though the words that had just been said in her head and then looked at the two of them. They were… staring at her intently. "I was at High Harlaw, as I said. My Nuncle Rodrik has found a room in it with… old runes."
To her surprise Old Gram grabbed her son's hand with one of hers. By the way that her knuckles whitened and his eyes crossed she might have been dying, but she still had a lot of strength. "Were they glowing?"
"Aye." She paused. "Sort of. Someone had cut through them, so that they only glowed in patches."
They stared at him again. "Cut through?" Old Gram said in a low voice. "Damn it. Bloody Harlaws and their own cleverness. Lord Harlaw sent no word to us. He will need the Stone. Why has he not sent for it?"
She stared at them. "I came because I remember the story you told me once about Edric and the golden runes. The runes on the wall. Was that a tale of High Harlaw? Old Gram – what's going on? How much do you know about this?"
They both stared at her again and then Old Gram levered herself up a little. "It depends on who is asking. Do you ask as a Greyjoy – or as a Harlaw?"
She thought about this for a long time. They watched and did not say a word. This was it. This was the decision that she needed to make. The decision that she'd been avoiding for so long. And the one that would define her fate. "I ask as a Harlaw."
Old Gram – no, Elys Stonebrow – looked at her for what felt like an age, her eyes searching Asha's face. Eventually she leant back. "Good. Then you must know this. The Iron Islands are old, but they were once known by another name, before the Andals came with their knack of making iron. Digging for it too. But a change had come even before that. Lord Harlaw will find out the truth of it, once he can read the runes. Perhaps he was never told about them."
Asha nodded. "Aye – he was agonising over reading them, desperate to know what was said in them. He did not know that the room where the runes were even existed."
The old woman sighed. "Men die. If they do not tell their sons or their daughters their secrets then those secrets die with them. Such men are idiots."
"What name were the islands known as?"
"Many names. The oldest was the Blue Isles, perhaps for the rocks that were later seen to bear iron. But my point is this – the First Men were here first, and they worshipped the Old Gods. Later the worshippers of the Drowned God arose and they destroyed all signs of the Old Gods. But there were always those that hid their devotion to the Old Gods and kept to the old ways. We hid. We hid in plain sight, but we hid. And we have always been here."
From the way that her son shifted his stance a little and tossed his head, she had an answer to who had kept faith. "Such as the Stonebrows?"
"Amongst others." The old woman tilted her head a little at her. "So, you understand why I asked who was asking. Your father would not like the fact we even existed. He would view us as a threat to the Old Way, the Iron Price." She spat the last five words bitterly. "A threat to the power he has. That and his brother. Damphair would kill us all."
"Then why tell me?"
"Because I saw you in… call it a dream. I knew that you were important, but that two destinies lay ahead of you. In recent months one has waned and the other has waxed. You hold the fate of our people in your hands, child. Because war is coming here. Men against men – and men against darker creatures."
There was a long, tense silence, and then Elys Stonebrow sighed and then passed a hand over her brow. "I will leave word of what I have seen. No secrets will be lost when I die. In the meantime, know this – the Harlaws are the key to this. They once knew this and they hid what they knew. The runes. The key is in the runes. But they deliberately hid this. The runes look the way they do to disguise this, in case a Drowned Man stumbled on them and destroyed them. The fact that they glow means that magic has returned. Magic will be needed to make the runes readable again."
She nodded to her son, who sighed a little and then walked over to a chest to one side and rummaged through it. After a long moment he picked up something and then brought it over to her, placing it in her hand. She peered at it. A… stone. It had runes carved on it. "What is it?"
"Something that you must guard, no matter what the cost. Something important. Something that a Harlaw had sent to us, long ago. A very long time ago. Tell your uncle to place it at the slot near the start of the runes. And tell him to tell his own sons."
"His sons are dead, killed in the war."
A wintry smile greeted her. "Off you go, child. Back to High Harlaw."
She stared at the old woman. She could feel tears forming in her eyes and she angrily suppressed them. "But – you're dying! I might never see you again!"
A long finger was crooked at her and she strode over to the side of the bed. Elys Stonebrow smelt of lavender and rose petals for some reason and she had a wistful smile on her face as she patted Asha's cheek lightly. "Oh, child. You always were the clever, sharp one. You inherited all the brains that the Greyjoys ever possessed, although I have some hope of your brother. Your dead brothers – they were animals. But you, clever little Asha, you have something that they never had. Something your father never suspected. You have a heart. And what a heart!
"Now – you have to go. You will see me again, in one way or another. The Call from the Stark in Winterfell woke something up, you see. Many more are aware of it now. Many more will see. Your father and his brother wish to close people's eyes. Well – you and Lord Harlaw must stop them. Because otherwise death will come to Pyke. "
The hand left Asha's cheek. "Give my regards to your brother by the way. Him and his wolf."
Asha opened her mouth to ask what she was talking about, but she seemed to have fallen asleep. Ned Stonebrow looked down at his mother and then led Asha out of the house. As she left she saw that something of a crowd had gathered, one that fell silent at the sight of her. The moment that Ben Stonebrow smiled at the people around them a tension seemed to lift. "The Lady Asha has a voyage to make – back to Lord Harlaw in High Harlaw."
"Is the Harlaw awake?" The shout came from a man at the back of the crowd.
"Soon," Ben Stonebrow cried. "Soon." As the crowd dispersed he turned to Asha. "We'll give you an escort down to the harbour. What you bear is important. Tell Lord Harlaw to believe. And that help must be sent to the Wall. The Others return. The Stark has called for aid. We are needed."
She nodded and mounted her horse. As she did various Stonebrows trotted up on their own horses. "Very well – we ride!" She spurred her horse on and they rode down the path, down to the sea.