Chapter 40: Chapter 40
1st Month 268AC
The day was bright and warm, far more different to the temperatures that he had come to find himself getting used to all the way beyond the wall. Closing his eyes, it was nice to feel the kiss of the sun on his skin and the gentle caress of it's warmth upon him.
By the old gods, he was a Stark of Winterfell. The cold was supposed to be his home and here he was, getting all flustered at a little warmth.
"How long has it been since you last saw that?" Ser Samwell Ayers asked as he nodded in the direction of the bloody red wound that dominated the King's Landing skyline, the Red Keep itself.
Brandon was quiet for a moment as he thought about it. "Not long, but long enough, I suppose." How long had it been exactly? Sometime over a year that he was sure off. "I supposed I missed this place some. Not that much though." He took a sniff of the air as their ship made it's way into port. "Doesn't smell as much anymore. I would say that it gets better with each passing year."
The captain of the ship cast him a toothy grin. "I'd agree with that as well." Ser Samwell was a tall man, his body hardened by years of work upon a ship since he was nothing more than a boy and dressed in dark blue clothing. The most striking feature about Ser Samwell was the lone black eye-patch that covered the eye he had lost fighting in the Ninepenny War. Once upon a time, Ser Samwell was the bastard son of a Bywater. He jumped somewhat when a large figure brushed past him onto the next deck. He grumbled, his hand moving away from the sword at his side. "I swear, if that cat does that one more time, I'll be finding myself with a new shadowcat coat. I hear those things are mighty warm."
Brandon sniffed as he followed the black and white feline as it made it's way towards it's master. "She wouldn't like that."
"A nice sharp steel into her throat would make whatever argument about the matter irrelevant."
Brandon took a moment to think about that. From what he had come to learn of wargs, he doubted that would be the actual end of that particular conversation. "If you feel like acquiring the wrath of the king, then let it be. Although I'd wish you mustn't. Until I am told other wise, the girl and the others are among my companions and I would be forced to protect them."
Ser Samwell shook his head, his hands digging into the pockets of his woollen great coat of dark blue and golden embroidery. "Nothing more than a jape, my lord. They must be rather important if you are bringing wildlings all the way to the capital."
Brandon only nodded at that. From all of the men upon the Breakspear, he was the only one who knew the true nature of the guests and wildlings that he had brought aboard. Of course, Brandon wasn't a fool. He was sure that Ser Samwell and a couple of the other men had been able to make guesses as to what they were.
Anyone well versed in the folklore of the north would be hard pressed not to make a guess of some accuracy. The shadowcat and eagles that they had brought aboard would have more than set enough tongues wagging.
Thankfully, it seemed they were smart enough to keep whatever knowledge they knew to themselves from what he had come to learn.
The shadowcat belonged to a young girl no older than thirteen. Brandon found her at the bow of the ship, eyes closed, the wind blowing her hair behind her. She seemed to be enjoying the sun. Not that he could blame her, he was sure that for all her entire life, she had probably never felt the warm kiss of the sun on her skin in this manner.
The shadowcat purred as it locked it's golden eyes on him.
"Stark." The girl said, turning around. In the light, her already pale skin had already become too pale, and her hair was stark white and her eyes a blood red. Yarra was an albino. An albino that was also a warg. It was said amongst the wildlings that she was the child of the Bloodraven. Poppy cock to be sure, but he could understand why the wildlings would say that with the tales that surrounded Lord Bloodraven. "Come to join me in this glorious day?"
"No. I came to ask about the others."
She shrugged her slender shoulders and indicated into the sky. Brandon looked up. "They are up there somewhere. In their eagles. Both Cregan and Beron." Yarra told him. "I think they want to see this King's Landing...or perhaps they want to feel the sun on their wings as they dance through the blue skies. Perhaps I should join them as well. I do wonder what the sun would feel like in Tonks."
"There's no time. We'll be making port soon. I would wish for them to be back in their bodies. I would rather not have them carried to the Red Keep. It wouldn't be much of an impression." He said to the young warg.
She shrugged at that. "And what would you want me to do, Stark? Call for them? They can come back on their own. I am not their minder. If not by the time we make port, then I suppose you shall have to carry them. I don't think either of them will care on what sort of impression they will make to the King of the Kneelers." Her shadowcat made a sound then, bearing it's teeth in his direction, and it's eyes had narrowed into tight slits.
Brandon took the warning and backed off. There was no need for an unnecessary violence. "Very well, I'll see to them. Good day, Yarra."
"Good day to you too, Stark." She closed her eyes and turned to face the city.
As he left her there, Brandon wondered if she was going to take to her eagle as she said she would. She hadn't suddenly dropped to the deck, so as far as he cared, that meant that her mind was still very much still in her body.
"That looked like it went well." Ser Samwell muttered as he collapsed a Myrish eye and tucking it into the inside of his coat. The young captain then proceeded to rub at his cleanly shaved chin, in thought.
That made Brandon curious. "Problems?"
Ser Samwell seemed to be in thought for a moment before shaking his head. He motioned nonchalantly in the direction of the ports of King's Landing. "I'm seeing a lot of Navy ships in that dock. And a whole lot more in the bay. We passed quiet a few of them."
Turning to face the port, Brandon could make out, with some squinting, the black sails and dragons of the Royal Fleet in port. Still, this wasn't all that surprising to him. There was always a contingent of Fleet ships at dock or patrolling the bay to serve as protection of the capital from an attack from the seas.
"So?" He asked, not seeing a problem. "There's always Navy ships at port or patrolling the bay."
Ser Samwell's face was cast in stone as he bit at his lower lip. "Not in that number." He shook his head. "Forget about it, my lord. Probably the ramblings of a men who's too far paranoid for his own good. I'll leave you to it, my lord. I'll begin the preparations for making port."
The captain left him alone not long after, leaving Brandon to his own thoughts and devices.
xXx
When they had made port, Cregan had been the only one who had returned from his flight of fancy into the skies. His companion, Beron was still very much somewhere up there in the clouds. Hopefully, Beron wouldn't be too lost by the sight of King's Landing to forget to how to return to his own body.
That meant that they had resorted to having the young man carried in a cart to the Red Keep.
Making their way towards Aegon's Hill and the Red Keep, Yarra and Cregan was astounded into quiteness as they saw the hustle and bustle of the capital city of the Seven Kingdoms. To them, everything was a sight. The people, the streets, the noise. Everything.
"How can you feed all of these people?" Cregan asked as his head swivelled from left to right, catching it all in. "There must be thousands. I saw it from up high, but it's very much different when you are on the ground."
The people on the curb would stop and stare at the shadowcat that rode beside Yarra's own horse. The giant cat had spooked the horses at first, but they had soon quietened down faster than he thought it was possible. Perhaps the doing of one of them? Was that in the abilities of a warg? He still didn't fully understood the abilities they were able to conjure up.
Yarra made a noise. "I've seen nothing but green and brown ever since we came south, Creg. I'm sure they can farm."
"That we can." Brandon turned to face the both of them, giving them a level look. "I know I have said this already-."
Cregan cut him off as he waved his hand irritably. "Yes, yes. The traditions of us freefolk are not the traditions of you kneelers. We betray your king's peace, then we pay the price. We understand. You have more than repeated yourself enough times for us to understand, Stark."
Brandon could only nod his head at that. "Good. When Beron comes too, you can tell him that as well. The king is a merciful man and he may find use for your particular talents, but I doubt he will take kind for any disturbances in his city."
After that, it wasn't long that they arrived at the Red Keep. A rider had been sent out ahead of them to tell the staff of their approach and for a message to be sent to the king of his arrival.
It wasn't the king that met him though when he entered the courtyard of the Red Keep. It was his cousin, seemingly with child. Again.
"Brandon!" Branda cried out as she pulled him into a hug. Branda was not small by any means, but him and Benjen have always been tall. He had to bend down slightly to allow Branda to hook her arms across his neck.
He placed a gentle hand on the small of her back. "Is this proper etiquette for a queen?" He asked in amusement.
"Piss on that." Branda replied with a mock frown as she released the hug. "I haven't seen you for a year and you haven't written much at all. I couldn't particularly careless about 'proper queenly etiquette' at this very moment in time." She smiled at him then. "How have you been? The north not too cold for you is it?"
"I'm a Stark of Winterfell. I'm offended you have to ask that question." His eyes drifted down to her growing middle. "I see our gracious king has you with child again."
She smirked then, her canines almost peering over her lips like the fangs of a wolf. "Not for a lack of trying, mind you. He's very vigorous with the right incentive."
"A girl or boy this time?"
"Haven't really thought about it too much to be honest. But I suppose a girl will do. Dany seems awfully outnumbered nowadays." The queen laughed then before her eyes caught onto something behind him.
Brandon didn't need to be told at what could have taken his dear cousin's attention. The wildlings that he had brought from beyond the wall with him stood out. Everywhere they had gone, ever since they began their journey south from Hardhome, people would stare.
If it wasn't for Yarra being a red eyed albino, it was because of said albino's large shadowcat creature that was always beside her. If not for that, it was for obviously the clothing that they wore. Even more so to the fashions of the capital.
Branda walked past him and made her way towards the two wildlings and looked them over. Something that Yarra didn't seem to appreciate. "Want to say something, Queen Kneeler?"
Brandon nearly cursed underneath his breath. Could they not be at the very least be respectable about it?
At the provocation, the queen only raised a single, well looked after eyebrow in response. "Queen Kneeler? That's certainly a new one. Most have given me the title of Wolf Queen, the Ice Queen, Mother of Dragons and such. Some not so much as pleasant as the one you gave me, you shall have to try harder." She replied with a smile on her lips. "But I see you two shall somehow be involved in another one of my husbands mad schemes or plans. In other words, we might be seeing a lot of each other in the future, instead of Queen Kneeler, how about we just start by calling me Branda? In return you can give me your names."
A stand-off between Yarra and Branda ensued then, Cregan watching on in amusement with his arms crossed, seemingly ignoring the tension that seemed to have cast a net over them when the two women had started glaring at each other.
The shadowcat licked at it's paws. "Yarra." The warg eventually relented with a slight incline of the head.
Branda smiled and she turned towards the other wildling. Cregan answered without any trouble or confrontation on his part. "Cregan and that in the cart is Beron." He finished, thumbing in the direction of the cart where Beron lied.
Branda looked at the cart. "What's wrong with him?"
Cregan grinned. "Oh nothing. He's just flying."
xXx
"Brandon!"
The king was still as touchy and overly familiar like the last time that he had seen him. He had yet to even have taken more than ten steps into his office that he found himself within the hold of Aerys' hug.
"Your grace." He squeezed out. Should he try to return the hug or was that overly familiar on his part? This was all terribly confusing for him. "It's good to see you too." He settled on patting the king's back. Well as much as he could with the limited movement given to him.
The king eventually showed him mercy and released him from his hug. "It's been too long. How long has it been?"
"A year. Just about that." Aerys led him to a seat that he was thankful to take.
"That's about right." Aerys said as he nodded his head, stroking at an invisible beard on his comely face. "Have you seen Martyn? He's coming up rather nicely."
The thought of his nephew made him think of his brother. He would have to make the time to ride out to see him or send some sort of message. Him, his nephew and Rodrick. But that was for later. First he had to attend to his duties here at the moment.
"That can wait for now." He replied. "I've brought the wargs."
The king nodded as he took his own seat. "One of them has a shadowcat?"
Brandon didn't bother wondering how the king knew. "And an eagle. Like you said, I only looked for the ones with birds as their animals."
"You only found those three?"
"In the wildlings clans that have come to settle in Hardhome, yes."
The king was quiet for a moment before nodding. "Well, that's better than nothing. Speaking of Hardhome, any difficulties as of late?"
Brandon shook his head. "No your grace. Everything is quieting down. The turbulent years seem to have passed, although we do have to keep a particular look-out for some of the larger clans in case they try to make an attack on us."
Aerys searched for something on his desk before finding it and bringing a piece of paper to his face. "The last census you sent us said that the total population is now just a little under two thousand?"
"And growing, if somewhat at a steady pace." Less and less wildling children died shortly after childbirth along with their mothers due to the improved surroundings and healthcare that was available in Hardhome. "For the first time in a while. Growth was mostly kept in check because before the clans learned to live with each other, they tended to kill each other every now and then."
That had been annoying to say the least. Trying to put law and order to a group of people that rejected such notions of civilisation was difficult to say the least. It was why he had taken to quickly ending any feuds that started as peacefully as possible. If not, there was always a good beheading for both troublemakers.
Thankfully, most of the clans that had come to settle in Hardhome underneath the protection of the Crown were weak compared to the larger ones that still roamed the expanses of the north.
"I'm sure you kept it well handled." The king said with a nod in his direction. "How long are you going to be staying? You can stay for as long as you like. I've sent a rider to alert your brother of your arrival. I'm sure he wouldn't mind riding down and seeing you. He's probably missed you. In fact, I shall order you for the next month to do nothing but enjoy yourself. See friends and family. No work for you."
Brandon inclined his head. "As you command, your grace." His hand drifted to the sword belt that hanged around his waist limply. "As for the other task you set for me before my arrival, I have it." He said to the king as he held out the sheathed blade within it's scabbard in front of the king.
The king looked at the scabbard for a moment, taking it all in. There was nothing fanciful about the scabbard, just a plain black colour with the leather that it was made out of having seeing the wear and tear of time in the harsh conditions that he had found it.
"Is that...?" The king trailed off.
"Yes." Replied Brandon as he pulled out the blade from within it's sheath, a quiet rasping sound accompanying the action. From within the worn scabbard, a blade of a smoky grey colour that was almost black revealed itself. "Dark Sister, your grace."
The king could only smile and nod at the sight of the Targaryen heirloom.
xXx
The village of Aberford was located a little of the kingsroad, a two days ride from the capital. The journey could be shorter with hard riding, but they didn't want to wear out the horses, so they had taken a subdued pace.
By the time they had arrived at Aberford, the sky was awash with a dozen shades of orange as the sun was busy setting itself in the western horizon. "We'll be staying here until we're done." Harry said as he led the group towards an inn.
The inn was small. Not that big and it seemed to be in a bit of a better state than most buildings in the village. It had probably been a brand new construction. It wouldn't have been all that surprising considering the history of the village.
There was no stable boy to come and take their horses for them, so they had to do that themselves. Small. Just as Ryam had thought.
Harry turned to face the other three that had come with them. "Torrence, Kevan, Lewys, you lot find us some rooms. I'm sure we have more than enough in coin for separate lodgings, but if you want to save some coin, then we can share rooms between the five of us. Me and Ryam will go about to find the village ealdorman and the local septon."
The three of them nodded. "Yes sir." They replied before heading inside towards the inn.
Ryam shook out a leg to get some feeling back into it. "How are we going to find them?"
"It shouldn't be so difficult to find a sept." Harry said as they began to walk through the village. "And from there, we can find the ealdorman."
"Or we can just go to the biggest building that we can see." He offered as an alternative, pointing to a building that was bigger than the rest in the village. "From experience, tall buildings tend to be somewhat important. Have you seen the Red Keep or the Great Sept lately?"
Harry laughed, presumably at the logic that Ryam had used, but nonetheless, they changed direction and began to make their way towards the tall building. The building was clearly important for the reasons that Ryam had pointed out, but also for the fact that it happened to be rather centrally located.
Also, a sept was just down the road from where it was located.
Great oaken doors were pushed open wide to allow entrance inside. Inside the hall, there was a sparse scattering of people, getting ready to head back to their homes after a days work. "So who looks the most important here?" Ryam asked as he looked around for someone of some authority.
"Perhaps we may ask instead of looking fruitlessly. Excuse me ser," Harry said as he went to one of the people in the hall that had been walking in their direction, perhaps going home. At Harry's calling, the man stopped and looked in their direction. "You wouldn't happen to know where we can locate the ealdorman would you?"
"The ealdorman?" The man repeated before pointing towards the back of the hall. "That be him over there. Man with the salt and pepper hair, m'lord."
Harry cast the man a smile and inclined his head in thanks. "Thank you ser and good day."
The man bowed. "And good day to you two, m'lords." He said before quickly disappearing through the doors.
With their instructions, the two knights made their way to the back of the hall and looked for the man with the salt and pepper hair. They passed a couple of children that were busy lighting some sconces hanging on the walls despite there still being light outside as it filtering through the plain windows hanging off the ground.
Like the man had said, the ealdorman had salt and pepper hair, with lined features of age and hard, calloused hands from years of toiling in the fields. They came upon the man whilst he was at the tail end of a conversation with another. "By any chance, might you happen to be the ealdorman of Aberford?" Harry asked politely enough.
The ealdorman turned to face them, a frown on his face quickly disappearing. "That would be me, m'lords. Thom." He said in introduction. "Thom Farmer." He added quickly enough.
Ryam wondered what had been in the value of giving the smallfolk two names. Simple names in truth, that didn't indicate to any form of prestige or history. From what he had learned of some of the smallfolk that talked of their second names, they acted as if having a second name somehow made them highborn.
It didn't really make any sense to him as to why the king would do such a thing.
Harry smiled and introduced the two of them. "I'm Ser Harrold Wendwater and my companion here is Ser Ryam Reyne." Ryam inclined his head slightly in greeting. "We're with the Crown Army."
Thom Farmer's eyes blinked for a few moments. "Ah, then you must be here to train the...'reserves' is it?"
"Aye."
"Just the two of you?"
They shook their heads and this time, it was Ryam that answered the man. "No. We have three others with us. They are currently at the village inn."
"So five of you then?" Thom Farmer asked as he rubbed his calloused hands on his chin. "Then you have some work cut out for you. I'd thought they would be sending more men."
Ryam raised a single eye-brow up. "Why would you say that?"
"I don't know about you, but five men training some hundred or something men? That's going to be a task." Ryam and Harry shared a look between themselves quickly enough, both of them agreeing that this was going to be quiet a task. "Is there to be a war my lords, that requires having some of our young men prepare for it?"
A good question by the ealdorman, but he was asking the wrong people. Him and Harry, despite having served as the king's squires, were still only given the information that was required of them. Nothing more, nothing less.
Harry shook his head. "No war." He answered, speaking quietly as he looked around. "Just a new policy being enacted."
"New policy eh?" The ealdorman shook his head. "The Crown has been enacting a lot of new policies lately. Not that I'm complaining. All of them have done well for us. Did you know, a decade back, we didn't have a village sept or septon. Now we have both a sept and septon, along with a septa as well. Less children and women die in the birthing beds now because of what they have done. Can't thank the good king, both the new and the old one for what they've done for us folks."
He stopped his rambling for a moment. "Well, it was nice enough meeting you, m'lords. I'll have some of my lads go tell the young'uns to come to one of the fields tomorrow."
"Bit quick isn't it?" Ryam voiced his opinion. He didn't mind, but he would prefer it if these men that they were going to be torturing for the next two weeks.
Harry agreed with him. "Let them enjoy tomorrow. We'll meet them the day after."
The ealdorman nodded. "As you wish m'lords. I'll sent out the summons."
xXx
"Well, they look big enough." Torrence remarked as he looked over the field that held the hundred young men.
"And strong enough." Lewys grunted in agreement.
Torrence sniffled. "They're farm boys, Lewys. At the very least, they should be strong enough, working the fields all day. Don't know about how smart they would be though. Being farm boys and all."
"As long as they are smart enough to follow orders, I don't really care for what they have in their heads." Lewys remarked as he crossed his burly arms over his chest. "What say you, ser?" He asked, his eyes drifting over to the direction where Ryam stood.
Ryam shrugged as he looked over the group of a hundred farm boys and men. "Same as you, in truth. As long as they are smart enough to follow orders, then I don't really care. Well, that and the fact that I also happen to agree with Torrence about them being looking big enough. Being big can do a lot when it comes down to a fight."
Harry and Kevan made their approach towards them, having finished a head count of the group. "Exactly a hundred men." Harry said.
"I'm sure we can have more than a hundred." Lewys told them. "Saw a lot of boys doing a whole lot of nothing yesterday. I suppose you could call some of those boys, men as well."
Harry shook his head. "No. A hundred will do. Just like we were ordered to." He looked in the direction of the field once more filled with nervous looking men waiting for their lords to give out their instructions. "Alright, this is what we'll do. We'll first have them run a couple of laps. See if they are as fit as they look. Then afterwards, we'll split them down into more a more manageable number between the five of us. Any questions?" He asked, looking around. They shook their heads. "Alright, let's get to it then!"
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