Wife of the Wolf, Husband of the Sun.
Book 2
Chapter One-Hundred and Forty-One
Even in the grip of death, Ser Barristan Selmy looked resplendent and like a knight out of a song. He only looked like he was in the midst of sleep, just as he had looked when they had found him.
There were already a thousand theories as to what had happened, Lord Quellon was certain that it had been one of Lady Lelianna's followers who had snuck into the camp and poisoned him but Lord Harlaw had made the good point that if they were going to poison anyone then it would more likely to bed Ned himself or one of his sons, why would they waste the opportunity to just poison one of his Kingsguard, even if it was the best of them.
They were already looking for the poisoner but the camp was a busy places and dozens were seen passing by the great white pavilion that had been set up for the Kingsguard, any one of them could have slipped in and left the poisoned flagon for Ser Barristan.
Ned had offered a hundred golden dragons for any information on who might have done it but so far no reliable information had been offered forth. Barristan's killer was no doubt as far away as they could get, they might have even left the island.
The royal fleet and the iron fleet had created a blockade around the Iron Isles, but a single small ship could slip away easily enough. Or perhaps he was wrong and the killer was still here, melting back into the camp like nothing had happened and hiding in plain sight.
Regardless, there was nothing that could be done about it now. He had a battle to fight, a castle to take back and a home to get back to as quickly as possible.
The Iron Islands were a grim and bare place, he could not condone it but Ned could understand why a people who lived here would turn to raiding in order to support themselves. There were few trees here, which meant that they had needed to bring the materials to build siege towers and ladders with them from across the sea.
"Pyke is not an easy castle to assault," Quellon Greyjoy had said when he came to Ned's tent before he was about to retire for the night, with a joyless laugh that turned into a hacking cough midway through, no doubt the old man was amused at the thought of discussing attacking his own home and seat. "To get to the great keep you have to pass the gatehouse and the gate house is strong in it's own right, but to the great keep you must pass the great stone bridge, which leaves us open to arrows and bolts."
"And even then, they could fall back to other parts of the castle and burn the rope bridges to deny us other parts of the castle," Quellon had spat then. "So long as we take the Great Keep back I normally wouldn't care, but if they take the kitchen keep then they can deny the rest of the castle food and hold out there for another year or more."
"You shall not have to wait that long my lord, you will have your castle back as soon as possible." Ned had promised him, it would be a bloody thing but he had little choice. Every second was too precious to waste.
But that was before they had found Barristan, and the start of the bloody business had been put off.
Ned sighed and shook his head, shutting his eyes. A gentle rain was falling and the sounds were almost soothing, he could almost forget all his troubles until a voice reminded him where he was. "Father?"
Ned opened his eyes and turned to face his second son, Mors had always favoured his mother in looks and Ned had always been worried for him. He was slight, and he was often prone to terrible bouts of fear and loneliness, and he knew his son did his best to hide them, from his parents, his twin, his little sisters and brothers, and everyone else. And he was terrified of people seeing.
He had wanted to leave Mors behind, but he knew that if he did then people would speak of it and showing weakness now had to be avoided. "Yes son?"
"The siege towers are completed, and the trebuchets and battering ram have been brought up from Lordsport. We are ready to being the attack." Mors said quietly, as if he thought his words would disturb Ser Barristan from his slumber, before stepping inside the tent. "I've read a lot of stories about knights, and I could not help but imagine Ser Barristan whenever I tried to picture them. He should not have died like this."
"No," Ned agreed, no doubt the Lord Commander would have liked to die on a battlefield, doing his duty and protecting his king. Ned would never want anyone to die for him, but he had hoped that perhaps Barristan would die before he allowed anything to happen Torrhen. "He should not have died at all, but this is war and such terrible things happen. You are never safe, and it will only get worse."
Ned sighed and reached out to cup Mors's cheek. "Whatever happens next, know that I am proud of you every second of every day. You and your brother, I love you both dearly."
Mors nodded and his dark eyes were wet. "I love you as well father, I will not let you down."
Ned nodded, pressed a kiss to his son's forehead, and left the tent with Mors following behind him. The rain was picking up now, and Ned could hear thunder off in the distance.
Their lines had been formed up in front of the walls of the gatehouse, just far enough that they would be out of range of most bows, Ned mounted his horse and rode forward through the lines, nodding whenever men called out his name, Ser Brynden Tully and Ser Lucas Blackwood of the Kingsguard fell in behind him.
Atop the gatehouse wall he could see Lady Lilianna Lannister, her creature Ser Lancel, and one young man and one young woman with the same pale skin and black hair, dressed in rags and with hempen nooses around their necks.
Rodrik Harlaw wept to see them, Maron Greyjoy cursed to his hide his fear and Lord Quellon looked without seeing. "Not one step further!" Lancel Lannister cried down, his voice carried by the wind. "If you come any closer, Lady Asha and Lord Theon will hang."
The world was silent then for a moment, and it was Lady Asha who broke it. "What is dead may never die!" She shouted, and jumped.
"What is dead may never die!" Theon echoed, and followed his sister.
The word was silent once again, aside from Lord Harlaw's weeping. "What is dead may never die!" Maron roared, and all the men took up the cry, even if they weren't ironborn.
And then it began, the trebuchets sent boulders flying through the air to smash into pebbles against the walls or soaring over them. The siege towers went trundling up towards the walls, the pelts shielding the wood from the fire arrows and in that the rain might have been a blessing in disguise as it made the wood less likely to catch. Men ran forward with ladders under their arms, ready to climb and spill blood.
And men died, all around him. A roaring man took an arrow to the throat and drowned in his own blood, a ladder's climbers were doused with a pot of boiling oil, another man was thrown from the top of the wall and burst like an overripe orange.
It was madness and horror but Ned could not relent.
Soon enough more and more men began to gain a foothold on the walls, part of the wall came crashing down from the boulders and men surged through the breach while the gates finally surrendered to the assault from the battering ram.
It was as Lord Quellon said, crossing the bridge was the bloodiest part. Arrows and crossbow bolts rained down on them, even thicker than the actual rain. His horse took a bolt in the neck and if not for the bodies that cushioned his fall, Ned no doubt would have broken something.
It was a half crawl, half stumble then to reach the other side of the bridge. The doors were barred of course but the axes were upon them, and Ned slashed at them with his own sword until finally they splintered upon.
A boy who looked to be younger than Meria was Ned's first blood of the day, he had a spear and he was aiming for his eyes and Ned just barely got his shield up in time. Ned ran him through before the boy could fall back and carried on through the corridors of the great keep.
It was before the doors of the hall which held the Seastone Chair were Ned came across Lancel Lannister, his sword wet with blood. "Die!" was all the younger man said, attacking him with a savagery that would not disgrace a wilding.
While Ned was blocking Lancel's blows it was Ser Brynden who came up behind him and struck him down, Lancel fell to his knees and held there for a moment before he toppled over to the ground.
The doors to the great hall were not barred, and Lady Lilianna was sitting upon it. Her head was bowed and an empty glass bottle was dangling from her limp fingers, the black of her dress almost seemed to bleed into the stone of the chair.
After that, all that was left was the rest of the castle. Lord Quellon's fears did not come to pass, none of the Lannisport men fell back. It seemed that Lady Lilianna had surrounded herself with the most fervent of her followers, and they all stood and died where they were and all of them drew a blood price from them.
When it was done Lord Quellon was brought up and strode into his hall, his expression was a storm and it darkened when he saw Lilianna. "Of course," he spat. "Well, I won't have her in the drowned god's halls. Cut her up and feed her to the dogs."
Once the lady of Lannisport's body was removed Quellon took his chair for himself. "My home, my castle. And what is left to me to fill it? One grandchild, and one son who with a bit of luck is as dead as the rest of them on some faraway land so he might never darken my halls again. I am tired your grace, I beg you to leave me. I am certain you'll find some room somewhere."
Ned did as he was begged and left the Lord of the Iron Islands alone, he took residence in some large apartments within the bloody keep and sent his knights to find his sons and bring them to him.
Torrhen had a gash on his cheek that was still bleeding and Mors had a bruise under one eye, Ned embraced them both and sent a silent prayer up to the gods for their mercy, he had already lost Arya. He would not lose them, or any of his other children.
When the morning came, he was not surprised when it came with word of Lord Quellon's passing. He had lived to get his home back, and he got it back at the cost of almost everything else. The maesters were all quick to confirm that it was not any sort of poison, he was simply an old and tired man who had no reason to hold on any longer.
"I am the last of the Greyjoys," Maron Greyjoy said as he stared down at his grandfather's body, Ned said nothing about the wetness in his eyes. "He will go into the waters with Asha and Theon, but I am left behind."
"I know what it is to lose a brother, a sister." Ned's throat tightened, and he suddenly realised he couldn't remember the last time he had thought about Brandon and Lyanna, it had to have been years. He had left them rest, but now they were back in his head once again and they had brought every pang of pain back with them. "The pain shall get easier to bear, and House Greyjoy shall always have a friend in House Stark of King's Landing. And you shall always have a friend in me."
Maron only nodded, and Ned left him to his grief. The storm outside was raging and it only grew worse as Ned made his way to Lordsport, starring out at the choppy seas. "We shall not be sailing anywhere for awhile your Grace," said Ser Brynden as he stood beside him.
"No Ser, I don't think we will." Ned said as he stared out at the horizon, dread clawing at his heart.
End of Chapter One-Hundred and Forty-One