Chaos Reigns
Chapter 1 [ Jon]
The Swamps of the Neck were, if he was being honest, not as scenic as they were deadly. Just the other day Rickard nearly lost a leg to a lizard lion. The beast had been disposed off immediately, but Rickard refused to venture out of the Moat anymore, doubtless wary of another attack. The Cranogmen were another mystery, I had been here for well over a year now, yet I could count the number of times I had seen the Cranogmen, other than Lord Reed, on one hand. Elusive and mysterious, my father always called them the first line of defense should the North be under attack.
Truth be told I had little idea why I was sent here, my father had suddenly woken up one morning and had decided that he had way too complacent in administering the North. That had been six years ago, including this year. Lord Stark had immediately summoned a meeting for us in his Solar that day , his face holding an expression I couldn't quite place. When we were all settled, Lady Stark piped up, disdain lining her every word, "Why does the bastard need to be here Ned?" Lord Starks eyes turned steely then, "He is a Stark, by blood if not by name," his voice held a hint of coldness I had never seen, "This meeting is for our family, and I shall hear no complaints, am I understood?"
Lady Stark looked stunned and could only manage to give a brief nod before quickly looking away. The rest of us were still rather confused as to why we were called. But our doubts were soon cleared away when Lord Stark spoke up.
"Children, do you know why House Stark has held onto the North for so long ?" His voice was testy, but not unkind, he seemed to be looking for some particular answer and it was definitely not what Robb blurted out excitedly, "Our honour father. Starks never forget their promises. " Sansa nodded vigorously, Bran looked uncertain and Arya slightly intrigued. Lord Stark held a mildly amused grin at first, which then turned hard and stern like the unforgiving winter snow, "Honour is a more recent concept, and while it does keep sturdy our reputation, it is not why the North was conquered by the Starks."
Bran spoke up then, "The old Starks were good fighters ... strong knights..." his voice trailed off, growing uncertain under father's withering gaze. "Not completely wrong Bran, not completely wrong. But there were no knights in the North. "
"Strength is the answer children. Strength to make the hard decisions. Strength to forsake honour for the greater security of our land. Strength to ward off the scheming flayers." Lord Stark paused to see if we were listening, "Currently we are not looked upon with the reverence out house once had. In the dark, the lords call me half-southron, preaching honour and building septs. Roose Bolton schemes to take Winterfell. And our economy stagnates further." We were all waiting with bated breaths , waiting for father to continue.
"We need to build up our strength and rekindle amongst our banners , the respect we once held. Robb, you will be going to White Harbour, Lord Manderly is a clever man and you'll find no place better to learn of trade, politics and economics. It will also expose you to the outside world and perhaps ," Lord Stark now added jovially, " You'll find a wife there." Robb turned beet red and nodded.
"Bran, you will be going to Torrhens Square, to foster with the Tallharts. Observe carefully how a township is managed, the guard rotations , the civil administration and the like. When Robb is Lord of Winterfell, you'll have to help him run the land." Bran nodded resolutely, his eyes filled with determination.
"Sansa , Arya ," their names caused them both to shift nervously, "You will both be going to Bear Island. The Mormonts are a loyal house , and Lady Maege has several daughters for you to befriend. You will also be trained in arms, riding and falconry. Make sure you learn well." His tone held such a finality that even Arya didn't offer resistance, Sansa looked decidedly unhappy but kept quiet, not wanting a scolding.
"Jon , you will go to Last Hearth. The Umbers are an old and proud house, and excellent fighters in the field. The GreatJon is an old friend and he will teach you the lessons of war and administration" Last Hearth, I had thought then, then the Nights Watch will be my fate, "When Robb is Lord, you will be his sworn banner ." This revelation shocked me, but it shocked Lady Stark even more.
" How could you do this Ned, " she screeched, "He is a bastard, born of sin, lust and treachery. He will usurp our son, can you not understand. You'll even insult Lord Umber by sending him there." Lord Stark looked calm, yet his eyes held a storm, none of us wanted to face, and we all were thankful when he asked us to return to our duties.
My years with the Umbers were honestly extremely enjoyable, the GreatJon was an ever jovial man, and his eldest SmallJon followed his father in that. They were good warriors too, their large stature not at all diminishing their speed. Years of combat against the Wildlings had made Lord Umber into a seasoned fighter with more than one trick up his sleeve. His uncles were entertaining too, Mors and Whoresbane Umber had the strangest stories to tell. Some were so absurd that even the GreatJon scoffed at them. The mornings were usually spent in the training yard or in the Maesters tower, while the evenings were spent either with the GreatJon in his Solar or in the library. No one at Last Hearth cared whether I was a bastard or not, Lord Umber even proclaimed that I looked more like a Stark than my siblings.
It was here that I had also faced my first serious fight, a wildling raiding party had been spotted traversing across the New Gift, and Lord Umber had gathered two hundred mounted men-at-arms to deal with them. He had brought me and SmallJon to experience what combat was like, "You need to be bloodied lad. A green boy commands little respect from the people," he had proclaimed. Truthfully speaking, it wasn't much of a fight. The cavalry was split off into three groups, fifty on either flank and a hundred in the centre. The centre had engaged first, pinning down the Wildlings while the flanks encircled them completely preventing any escape. Four score raiders had entered, that night we burnt their corpses in a funeral pyre.
The Mountain Clans were a strange folk I had decided. When Lord Umber took me and the SmallJon to visit them, they spoke to me in clipped tones and short sentences. Not unkind, but strange. Only after I had hunted down a snow bear alongside SmallJon did they start speaking freely. The Ned , they called my father, and proudly proclaimed that any son of The Ned was always welcome in their halls. Wull, Liddle, Norrey, Flint, their feasts were even more boisterous than those of the Umbers.
It was here that I came across builders and architects sent from Winterfell . My father, Lord Stark had commissioned for the roads around the North to be repaired and improved. He had also ordered for watchtowers to be built across the western coast, doubtless to warn against the Ironborn, furthermore I had heard that the Manderlys had been asked to build a fleet and that Lord Reed had been asked to start repairs on the Moat. Lord Umber said that Lord Stark held meetings with Bravosi bankers and eastern merchants, that he had brought Qohorik smiths and Bravossi shipwrights. Aid to the Nights Watch had increased, with builders from Winterfell repairing two additional forts on the Wall. Uncle Benjen, who visited me from time to time informed me privately that my father had changed, "Ned feels different now Jon. He was never like this before. Honour and integrity were his guiding principles. But now... he's working towards improving the North, yes , but slowly and mind you, surely, we are drifting away from the south entirely. "
Last year, a raven came from my father ordering me to go and garrison Moat Cailin. He was declaring me Castellan of the ruined stronghold, and wanted me to continue on with the repairs and upgrades.
Lord Umber had been crestfallen to see me leave, and SmallJon was openly upset. The GreatJon had gifted me a longsword of castle forged steel and a steel hatchet as a parting gift, while SmallJon Umber had given me a set of chain mail. Mors and Whoresbane had given me books and decidedly questionable advice on how to run a fief. Loaded with gifts, I had set out towards Winterfell. It didn't occur to me then, but I traveled a lot faster than before, the roads had been mended and waystations had been built.
Winter town had undergone a shocking change though. A large palisade, twelve feet high and three feet thick now surrounded the greatly expanded settlement. There were more people that was for certain, new shops had opened up too, and I had seen merchants from even Essos selling their products. The settlement now had a permanent guard force too, four hundred men led by one Jonnel Fisher, a grizzled veteran of three wars : The war of the nine penny kings, the Rebellion and the Greyjoy folly. Donning grey cloaks, brigandines and steel helms, the Winter town guardsmen were armed with swords, bill hooks and daggers for the footman and bows for the archers.
Winterfell itself had undergone repairs, the walls which were normally imposing enough seemed even more formidable. New turrets and even catapults could be seen placed on the walls. The Broken Tower had been repaired and was being used as an armoury, the winding bridge and towers had all been connected and fortified, with guard posts scattered all over. It was almost as if father was preparing for war.
My welcome had been short and warm, father informed me that I would leave within a week alongside builders, cooks and a host of some three hundred men-at-arms who had volunteered to guard the Moat, father said that more men-at-arms would join the column as we marched down the Kingsroad. He informed me of my duties and gave me a letter authorizing my appointment as the keeps Castellan. He made it clear that I would not be administering anything, my sole purpose was to guard the crossing. A better fate than most bastards I had to admit.
So here I was, guarding the Moat. The three existing towers had been decently repaired and two more had been rebuilt, the ruined curtain wall had been raised to ten feet all around and twelve to fifteen feet at some places. Watchtowers had been built, with archers and footmen garrisoning them in fixed rotations. I had some six hundred men, guarding the Moat with another two hundred cooks, builders and workers. They builders had been placing scorpions lately, on the towers and on raised platforms. A makeshift armoury had been constructed and a forge had been set up. All in all, life was good here.
Robb had sent a raven from White Harbour informing me of his impending arrival. Father had called back all his true born children to Winterfell to prepare for the Royal visit. A similar message had been sent to me as well, father had written that King Robert was riding North to meet with him. I was to welcome him at the Moat and was to keep the full garrison on display. Father had asked me to keep the men and their equipment in top shape, he no doubt wanted to send a message of strength to the Southrons, but why , I had no idea.