Bab 2: II.
Jon
The Squids of Deepwood Motte had been slaughtered. One Thousand Iron Born had been taken by the sword in the night. Only the Greyjoy Bitch had been left alive. A hostage until Glover's children could be returned. Not a single Northman had been lost in the battle, all as bloodthirsty as he was for the Squids. It had been a massacre by Jon's forces, bringing Deepwood Motte back into the hands of the North. The hands of Jon. The Ironwood Hall was his. It's a start, Jon thought as he prepared himself to meet with his army's leaders. The army was a strong one, being made of Umbers, Free-Folk, Mountain Clans, Mormonts and Forresters. Jon had gathered them all on his march from Castle Black, creating a force to be reckoned with. An army of the First Men and Women, Jon thought with a wolfish grin, as he walked through the Halls of Deepwood Motte with Ghost at his side.
A Pack leader by his own right. Marching through the Wolfswood ha given Ghost an opportunity to gather a pack of wolves, slowly growing as they went. Jon knew that as they marched South to Winterfell that number would only grow. Whatever solitary aspect of the wolf was gone. Ghost was as much a leader as Jon now. Entering the Motte's great hall, Jon was met with nods from the Lords, ladies and commanders present at the meeting, sat on both sides of the long table. Jon nodded back at them all, walking towards the middle of the table, back towards the fire, with Val to his right and the Lady Sybille at his left, with Laurence Snow, another captive of the Iron Born. Ghost strolled behind him, lying in front of the fire. Surrounding the table, Mors Umber, Alysane Mormont, Rodrik Forrester, Hugo Wull, Torren and Morgan Liddle, Torghen Flint and Brandon Norrey, alongside other heads of the mountain clans and the Lords sworn to House Glover. They were all tough bastards, he'd fought with half of them when rallying them to the fight against the Boltons.
Jon took a large swig from the tankard before beginning, "How many ships did we take from the Squid Alysane?"
The Mormont woman gave a toothy grin at him, "The Greyjoy Bitch had Thirty ships with her. The only ships she could keep after Euron's ascension. A good number to start a Northern fleet."
"Aye, will be nice to see the squids get attacked by their own ships" Rodrik said happily.
"This was the largest Iron Born infestation in the North, what's left of them won't have anyone to help them" The Liddle stated simply, drinking from his tankard.
Mormont nodded at the man, "Aye you're right, what's left are in villages along the stony shore and at Tallhart's Square. Not many of them to cause many problems."
"What if more return from the Iron Islands?" Lady Sybille asked, turning to Jon.
The thought of Iron Born coming made him snarl.
"If they come back to Deepwood Motte Lady Glover they'll see Five Hundred of their Reavers' heads at the Bay of Ice on spikes and they'll meet the same fate. If they meet our ships on the sea, they'll see the other five hundred on the long ships."
Jon watched as the Mountain Clan leaders smiled at the thought. Mormont's toothy grin was bigger.
"Deepwood Motte won't be ill defended either. Rodrik will lead the Motte's forces for you. The Forresters, House Bole, Woods and Branch will guard the Motte until your husband and his forces return."
Rodrik looked at Jon, "That can be done. How many of them will you want to take to Winterfell?"
Jon gave him a hard look. "None. I'll have enough to take Winterfell without Glover's Lords. They can stay and kill any squids that come looking for something to plunder."
Rodrik raised an eyebrow, "You think you can take Winterfell back from the Boltons with the forces we have?"
It was Val who answered with a laugh and a piercing smile, "Kneeler, you've only seen some of the Free-Folk fight, when we join up with the rest of our people, we won't need anyone else!"
Some of the Lords didn't look too comfortable with Val's comment. He knew well enough what they thought about fighting with the Free-Folk. When he was commander of the Watch, Jon had to discuss his actions with Norrey and Flint. They'd accepted it by the time Alys Karstark married Sigorn though.
Crowfood Umber slammed his tankard onto the table, "And you haven't seen us Umbers fight against a real enemy either. One Umber is worth Ten of you!"
That got a few laughs from the group, "Aye Crowfood, same goes for the mountain clans. You'll see what this greybeard can do when he bathes in Bolton Blood!"
Jon listened to them all give their boasts. As long as their words are as good as their actions. Jon had seen them fight though, they were eager, and aching for Bolton Blood. Jon could practically taste himself, as far away as they were, feasting in his home.
Alsyane Mormont broke the boasting, bringing it back to plans, "We'll have it easier now that we've seen the Lady Stark."
Jon's face turned to a snarl. Ghost growled at the mention. The hall turned quiet, only the crackling fire and Ghost making a noise. Jon had met the girl Ramsay demanded in his letter at Last Hearth. She'd arrived not long after Jon had, with a member of Stannis' army. Jon only had to take long at the battered woman to see that she wasn't Arya. Her eyes were brown, not grey like his own. Umber could tell as well, like everyone else would that Arya Stark was Ned Stark's Daughter in all aspects. The Boltons had made an imposter of his sister. And with the girl that had mocked her in her youth, Jeyne Poole. The name made him angry. A spit in his sister's face. He'd brought her with him on his march, showing everyone that Bolton never had a Stark in his possession. They never will, Jon thought darkly.
"My brother, Whoresbane, will have seen Bolton's bride. He'll know the truth as well as us." "Aye, I doubt any of the Lords that had sworn themselves to Bolton will have believed that farce.
They're just biding their time." Flint added.
Jon looked at them all, snarl still etched on his face, "Then it is time they know the North doesn't have to wait."
Val looked at Jon with a mischievous grin, "You're going to tell them that we're coming?"
Jon gave her a wolfish grin in response, "Aye, no point hiding it. I'll send the Ravens before we leave. They'll find out sooner or later. I want everyone at Winterfell to know that we're coming to take Winterfell from the Boltons. And I'll send word to the rest of the North. Everyone will know what is coming for the Boltons. Winter is coming."
"And The North remembers." The Liddle said solemnly.
"What's our plan then The Jon for the Bolton Fucks?" Wull asked eagerly.
Jon kept his grin, "Me and the Umbers are going to meet with the Free-Folk and march South through the Wolfswood to Winterfell. I want you and the Lords of the Mountains to sail south with Lady Mormont on our ships, you're to meet us at Tallhart's Square."
Alsyane looked at him curiously, "Why split our forces?"
Jon looked at her, smile more wolfish, "I want rid of the Squids. You can kill what's left of them along the Stony Shore, then at Tallhart's Square. We'll rid the Squids completely from the North before ending the Boltons. Finish what Theon the Hungry Wolf Started."
Alsyane smiled but Jon wasn't done.
"And take the Greyjoy Bitch with you. Have her tied to the Bow as well. She'll make a good sight for the Reavers."
The Northerners started to laugh at the thought, clanking their tankards together as they drank. Jon joined them with Val, giving the woman a savage smile. It was a good night, drinking to the deaths of Squids and Boltons. How long he'd waited to bathe in their blood. For their atrocities to the North. It was good to see their heads on spikes, and their bodies burnt, as far away from their Drowned God. The Boltons would be next. Jon looked forward to what he intended to do to the Bolton and his bastard. The thought made him smile more, as he downed his tankard of ale. Winterfell is mine Bastard, come and see.
Barbrey Dustin
Winterfell was becoming like she remembered it. Before the wars. The walls were repaired, the keeps and towers rebuilt, even the ones that had fallen into disrepair before Robert's Rebellion. The Sept was no more as well. Roose Bolton had only done minimal repairs on first arrival, using the people of Wintertown and those who had taken shelter in Winterfell after the sack; and the Freys that had come North.
It was the Northern Lords that had brought it back to its glory, with Manderly, Whoresbane Umber, Cerwyn and Mazin at the fore. Her Father, Lord Ryswell had even helped. The Karstarks had also helped once they had betrayed Stannis and his southern army with not a single Northman but the Karstarks; not before he killed half of the Frey men, as Lord Manderly had said on his return with the bastard of Bolton. The one who stole my nephew, Lady Dustin thought bitterly. All the Lords present had brought supplies to rebuild Winterfell and it almost looked complete, almost the same too with the Direwolf statues fixed. Like the castle she once thought she might share with Brandon, barring the Bolton banners that adorned the walls. Another Northerner hurt by Southern
Ambitions, Barbrey thought sadly at the thought of Brandon. The repaired Direwolves hadn't surprised her in truth. These Northmen were Stark men, even after their demise. Even the Northern Lords that had helped Bolton, albeit for the hostages he had, were not loyal to him. Lord Bolton didn't seem to mind though.
He always was an emotionless one.
The thought made her snort, as she walked towards the great hall of Winterfell, flayed men adorning the walls of Winterfell. Maybe he doesn't care, or he finds it fitting, a flayed man surrounded by Direwolves him and his son had flayed from existence. Every Northern Lord and Lady knew the truth of the sack, no matter what Bolton said of the Iron born. He had proclaimed it justice when they proclaimed that Theon Turn cloak had been executed by Stannis, although he loathed not doing it himself. Even though his bastard had kept him as a pet for so long.
The Bastard of Bolton had been in a mood despite his victory over Stannis. His Reek was dead and his bride had escaped, freed by Mance Rayder, according to the women who had accompanied him, tortured by the bastard in his so-called retribution. Mance was in a dungeon now for taking Bolton's bride, surrounded by the flayed skin of the women. A shame they had rescued a false Stark. Another thing every Northerner had known at the wedding before Stannis' arrival. The Arya Stark that didn't have her father's eyes. The eyes of the man who left my husband's bones in a Dornish Desert. The thought made her more bitter at the thought. Barbrey knew where the false stark would be taken. To the bastard of Ned Stark, Jon Snow.
Ramsay had sent a letter to him demanding her back. He'd threatened the Night's Watch according to one of the Maesters. Southern rats. Roose had kept it quiet, knowing how foolish it was to send
such a letter. To threaten the Night's Watch was to threaten the wall, and the North valued the wall. Entering the great hall of Winterfell, she could see all the Lords present. Lords that were only in service to Bolton because of hostages held by the Freys. They were in a corner to themselves, what ones of House Frey were left. Barbrey could see the small smile on Lord Manderly's face at their dwindled sight. The hall was tense. It always was. Barbrey sat next to her father and the other Ryswell and Dustin men to wait for Lord Bolton to begin. She watched as Roose Bolton rose from his seat, flayed armour on. She could see those pale, almost milky eyes. They looked dead. His wife and bastard sat to his right and left. His bastard looked amused. The bastard's eyes weren't as pale as his father's but they were alive with a mad glint. She doubted he knew what was to be said. Her father didn't, she knew that much, and he was the closest Lord that could be said as loyal to the Boltons due to blood ties.
Barbrey watched as the flayed Lord waited for a moment before speaking, his voice soft and lifeless, "Months have passed since Stannis' defeat. The North is now secure from false Kings from the South. Winterfell, the heart of the North is rebuilt. Now, it is time to secure the North once and for all by driving out the Iron Born. House Bolton has removed them from Moat Cailin. We will do the same in Deepwood Motte, Torrhen's square and the Stony Shore. The men you have here will be a part of that, as will the other lords of the North that have yet to join us."
It was a simple speech. Lord Bolton was establishing that he was the only power in the North, the only one that could remove the Iron Born, the one that one day might call himself King in the North if he could remain unopposed. It might have been successful if he didn't have another problem. Dustin thought smugly.
"What of the Lady Arya, Lord Bolton? She hasn't been seen since the battle with Stannis?" Lord Cerwyn asked hesitantly.
Lady Dustin heard the grumbling begin. Lord Bolton may have been cunning and a terrifying creature, but the Northerners were never ones to cow at that. Especially when they knew Bolton's rule was tenuous. Asking about the false Stark girl was a good show of discontent. A poor start for Lord Roose, Barbrey thought.
The Leech Lord didn't raise his voice, he never did, "Lady Arya's disappearance will be dealt with. According to those who had taken her out of Winterfell, she was to be brought to the wall, where Stannis' former Queen and daughter reside."
"And her bastard brother, Jon Snow." The bastard of Bolton added disdainfully.
Barbrey wanted to laugh at how much contempt was in his voice when saying the word. He thinks because of a legitimisation and his "marriage" to the late Lady Hornwood makes him better than Ned Starks Bastard. He's a loon to think that. Even I think Ned Starks' bastard is better than him.
The Leech Lord gave his bastard a small look, then went on like nothing had happened, "Yes, to her bastard brother. The Lord Commander of the watch will not resist in returning her to her home. He knows his oaths to take no part in the affairs of the realm. "
"When will she be returned then?" Whoresbane asked, a lot less hesitant than Cerwyn and more impatient.
A true Umber.
"A contingent of Bolton men will be sent to collect her from her brother when the Iron Born are removed."
The grumbling started again in the hall. They probably didn't like the idea of Bolton men heading to the wall to meet the Lord Commander. He might not live for being Ned Stark's last son. Any son of Stark had power. The son that hadn't broken his oath to the watch, despite the offer that Stannis gave according to the Karstarks. Like his father for oaths, though if he'd broken them, the North would have flocked to him regardless. Better an oath breaker of the watch with Stark blood than a Bolton who would abandon guest rights.
"Then what is the plan to remove the squids from the North?" Lord Manderly asked.
Lord Bolton eyed the fat Lord of White Harbour, "There are few hideouts left for them, the biggest being Deepwood Motte, to the North West. We will take that, depriving their holdouts at Torrhen's square and the stony shore from any aid. They will quickly fall from that point."
"Who will be sent to do this task?" Lord Manderly asked again, keeping a positive voice. It was only when Freys started to speak he lost his poise somewhat. Barbrey could still see the small scar where a Frey had slashed not long before they battled against Stannis.
"Lord Manderly, you and Lord Umber will be sent. Once you've reclaimed Deepwood Motte you can assist Lady Dustin in taking back the Stony Shore when you send word of your victory. My own men, Ryswell, Dustin, Frey and Cerwyn will remain here until then. After we will take Torrhen's square."
Lord Bolton was being smart. Lady Dustin knew that. After half of the Freys died, by Stannis as Manderly "claimed," it was wiser to keep them away from each other. Sending off some of the larger houses was also smart in depleting their forces while keeping the Bolton army intact. Less troops to fight against Bolton rule, Barbrey noted.
Nobody seemed to disagree with Lord Bolton's strategy, they hated the squids almost as much as the Boltons. It seemed to be a done meeting, until one of the Maesters entered the room, holding a piece of parchment.
"My Lords and Ladies, we've received a missive from Deepwood Motte." The Bolton bastard smirked, "Have the squids sent word of surrender?"
The Maester shook his head and spoke with a stutter, realising he had the bastard of Bolton's attention, "No My lord, Deepwood Motte has been taken from the Iron Born."
"By who?" One of the Northern Lords asked.
"Jon Snow, My Lord. He's the one who signed it."
The Northern Lords were silent. If they speak, they'll probably be cheering, Lady Dustin realised.
The bastard looked incredibly mad at the Maester. Lord Bolton remained passive, asking a simple question,
"What does it say?"
The Maester looked nervous, with all eyes on him. He cleared his throat.
"To the King Slayer, Lord Bolton and his bastard that sacked Winterfell, Ramsay Snow,
My Watch has ended on the wall as the North demanded it after your bastard's threats to the Night's Watch. Deepwood Motte has been taken from the squids. Their heads are on spikes, their
entrails hung in the Godswood. I will do the same to you. I march for Winterfell to take it from you. If you have any wisdom, you would fight me in the old way by single combat. If not, you condemn your Bolton Army to slaughter by the full might of the North, by the full might of the First Men that remember there must always be a Stark in Winterfell. The North Remembers your crimes. The murder of King Robb Stark and his loyal lords and Ladies, the sacking of Winterfell and the impersonation of Arya Stark will be answered for with your blood. The Weirwood Tree of Winterfell will have it once me and my army are done bathing in it."
The Northern Lords were all listening intently to the words. Lady Dustin listened as well whilst watching in amusement as the Bolton Bastard got angrier at the words; clearly lacking the ability to control a response to being called a bastard. The moment that the Maester rat had said Jon Snow had taken the Motte, she knew he would be coming to Winterfell. As she listened, she noticed something about the words, they were odd. They spoke like a Stark with the Wolfblood in droves. No son of Ned Stark would write with such anger as this. No son of Ned Stark would revel as much in the blood, or sacrificing to the Old Gods in that fashion. He speaks with the Wolfblood. Lady Dustin hadn't heard a Stark to speak in that way for a long time. Not since Brandon. The last wolf in my eyes
Her attention was brought back to the Maester as he finished, "Winter is Coming Lord Bolton, Lord Snow. And with it comes the wolves.
Jon Snow, Son of Brandon Stark"
Barbrey had turned her attention to the Maester completely at that point. Son of Brandon? The bastard's lost his mind. Then it hit her. Of course, he was Brandon's. The honourable Ned Stark would never have sired a bastard. Brandon would though. Lady Dustin knew that much, remembering the man who had taken her maidenhead, a small smile tugging at her lips. It made sense that he was. It even made sense that Ned Stark claimed him as his own. A bastard of Brandon's would have been even more terrifying to the Tully Trout. Bastard of the first-born heir of Rickard. Ned Stark must have told him on his way to the wall, when it wouldn't matter that he was Brandon's son. The thought made her angry.
"You mean the son of Ned Stark?" Her father asked, clearly speaking with interest.
"It says Brandon Stark my Lord." The Maester said slowly
The Northern Lords were muttering amongst themselves. She swore that she could hear them coming to the same conclusion as Barbrey. They knew what Jon Snow had said was true. His parentage wasn't the only thing. One of the Northerners nearby uttered a whisper. "The North Remembers." The Bolton's hold on the North was getting weaker with one letter.
One of the Frey Lords present gave a shout, "What does it matter who fathered the bastard?! He's a traitor to the watch, an oath breaker and the blood of traitors to the Crown! He needs to be dealt with!!"
The words were foolish ones to say for a Frey, she could here Whoresbane Umber smash his tankard on the table and growled. The other Lords present looked ready to slaughter the Freys. Lord Manderly was looking at Lord Bolton though.
"Now that Deepwood Motte has been taken, what are our plans now?"
Lady Dustin could almost here the smugness that Manderly was hiding behind the fat.
Lord Bolton met the man with an empty stare, "The Oath Breaker is coming to Winterfell. Our
army will crush his and he'll be executed for abandoning the wall. I'm sure all of you Lords of the North know what to do with a man who deserts the Night's Watch. The same will be done to those Lords which have made whatever army he claims to have."
The Northern Lords nodded. A mummer's farce if I've ever saw one, Lady Dustin knew.
The Leech Lord spoke one last time, "That will be all my Lords, we will convene again to discuss
the upcoming battle."
The Lords all began to leave the great hall, Lady Barbrey walking with her father. The tension that had been in the hall was still there. It didn't matter what hostages the Freys had, it didn't matter that Jon Snow had left the watch. The Northerners were going to fight for Jon Snow. They were going to fight for a son of House Stark. And I will fight for Brandon's only son. That was a certainty for Lady Dustin. He can avenge my Domeric.
Chapter End Notes
Hope you all enjoyed, felt like it was a good look into what's happened at Winterfell. Theon is dead btw,I went wae the whole sacrifice theory. Stannis does it before the battle, hoping Theon's head on a spike might turn the Northerners on the Bolton side. Theon's life paid for Jon's resurrection in this as a sacrifice to the old Gods. As tae why Jon said son of Brandon is twofold, reminds them of Ned Stark's character and a way of honouring Brandon fae giving him peace after he got stabbed tae death. And you can see the North's loyalties quite plainly in this as well. Oh and the entrails on the Godswood happens, will be mentioned in one of the next chapters, no embellishment in the letter Jon sends
Chapter Notes
Call to the North
Hope you all enjoy! Feel free tae comment as always! And if anyone got any bad comments from some randomer I'm sorry about that. He was doing that on my other story as well
See the end of the chapter for more notes Maege Mormont
Maege listened intently to Howland Reed as he read the missive received from Deepwood Motte. Ravens in the North were trained to go into the Neck, but never specifically to Greywater Watch. Nobody knew where it was. Lords rarely sent their ravens, believing the ravens never found their destination. So, when Howland Reed said a raven had come, she had been surprised. The small Crannogmansimplysaidthat"theCrannogmenknowhowtofindtheravens." TheRavens usually brought dark words in these times, this was different. Galbert Glover was leaning forward in his chair, clearly happy at the words. Deepwood Motte, his home, had been liberated. And his brother's wife freed. Maege was glad the Motte had been freed of the Squids which had plagued Bear Island and the North for millennia, if it was true. But that wasn't what had truly gotten her happy. No, what had gotten Maege's blood pumping was the fact that war had been openly declared on the Boltons and Jon Snow was marching to Winterfell. We know no King but the King in the North whose name is Stark. The King in the North's heir was on the warpath. If the raven was true at least. It could be a trap by the Boltons. It worried her, but it didn't feel like something Roose Bolton would write.
"Is it truly Jon Snow's words?" Galbert asked hesitantly. He clearly didn't want it to be a lie or it would mean the Motte was in Bolton hands.
Howland Reed was still looking at the missive, his face deep in thought.
"It is Lord Glover. The words are Jon's. Look at how he signed it."
Lord Reed put the missive on the desk. Maege looked straight to the bottom. Jon Snow, Son of Brandon Stark.
Howland didn't give the two of them time to think on the words. "Only myself and Ned Stark knew that he was Brandon's. The only way anyone would know that is if Ned told him before the lad went to the wall. It's him."
Brandon's bastard. It still changes nothing. We all should have known that it was horseshit that Ned could have a bastard of his own.
"Then the words are true. Jon Snow's marching against the Boltons." Galbert stated with a smile. "And it's about bloody time!" Maege practically bellowed, hand almost grabbing her mace. She
could avenge her Dacey, avenge her fellow Northmen and avenge her King.
Howland nodded at the two, "Aye, it is. The Mummer's Farce is over. It is about time they were
given to the Heart Tree at Winterfell, their entrails on the branches."
Maege was amused. Howland Reed was usually a quiet man and a kind one. Having met him in the rebellion and her time in the Neck. To hear the small man, speak of hanging Bolton's entrails to the trees with venom in his voice was not something to be taken lightly, at least for the Boltons and Freys. That's what amused her.
"So, what's our plan here? Do we march for Winterfell with our army? He added at the bottom that he would be at Torrhen's Square first." Galbert asked
Seven Thousand men of the Northern army. That was what Robb Stark had given Maege and Galbert control of to take Moat Cailin from the North before the Red Wedding. If they hadn't been sent ahead, Robb's Three Thousand Five Hundred would not have been outnumbered by the Bolton forces and the Freys. The rest of the Northern army was scattered in the Riverlands like the Riverland army was.
Maege shook her head, "No, our forces are large but it will take too long to reach the square or Winterfell, at least all of them anyway."
Galbert nodded, "But a small force of our army could join up with him though in time for the battle, shore up whatever forces he has. Say a thousand."
"I'll send some of my own forces with that group. We rarely leave the neck but our talents should be useful." Howland offered with a small smile.
"I'll lead those forces up. I want to fight with the man that freed my home." Galbert declared.
Maege turned to the Glover. "I'll lead that force Glover! I want vengeance for my Dacey!"
Before a row could start on who would join up with Jon, Howland intervened, "Galbert, I'd rather you stay and lead the other Six Thousand, you've had more experience leading larger forces from what I've heard."
Galbert turned back to Reed, "What are you thinking up Reed?"
Howland kept his small smile, "I don't want any Freys or Lannisters marching North once Jon takes back the North. I say we take Moat Cailin from the Boltons. I've been targeting their scouts and hunters since they took it from the Iron Born."
Maege grinned at the two, "And if any Freys or Lannisters come North, they'll die like the Andals did last time."
"I'll lead them to Moat Cailin then." Galbert said happily. "Should I bring the will?" Maege asked.
The two lords shook their heads, Galbert answering, "Best it stays here until after the battle. No point risking it getting lost if you're ambushed before getting there."
Maege snarled and clipped his head hard. The Glover grunted. "Remember Glover, Bear Islanders are worth Ten mainlanders. And Mormont women are worth a hundred."
The Glover glared, then smirked.
"Leave it for now anyway. I'll bring it North after the battle. I'd like to have words with the lad."
Howland said, face returning to a solemn one.
A rare thing when Howland Reed leaves the Neck.
Galbert looked at her with a smirk, grabbing one of the cups on Howland's desk, "To the King in the North then?"
Howland smiled, pouring drink into the cups, "Aye, to the King in the North." Maege grinned, "The King in the North!"
*
Davos
Bring me my Liege Lord and I'll declare Stannis my King. Those had been Manderly's last words to Ser Davos before heading to Winterfell. The Lord of White harbour had given the man a small ship with a crew to bring the young Rickon Stark and his Direwolf to the North's mainland. There were no banners marking their loyalties, a simple merchant ship to the world and nothing more. The journey to Skagos on the Bay of Seals had been a simple one. It may have been icy but Davos had sailed under worse conditions. He'd manage to sail safely into Skagos, with its very rocky shore, with a couple of shipwrecks adorning the shoreline, and the great volcano, surrounded by woods. It had been simple for Davos getting there. Getting the Stark though, on an island of rumoured cannibals, that was the challenge Davos worried about.
Davos and three crew members had worked their way through the woods, aiming to find the villages. They had heard that there were coastal settlements as well but where they had landed was on the much rockier side of the island, a way to keep the ship hidden in case of the worst. It taken little over a week going through the forest before found people. Well, the Skagosi found them. A large group of them had surrounded them in the forest without them even knowing. Davos had done the only sensible thing and put his hands above his head before the Crewmen got any ideas. Davos wasn't much use in a fight, with a hand missing fingers down to the joints. That aside, he was a smuggler long before he was a Seaworth. The whole point of being a smuggler was to net get caught, or be able to talk his way out of it. They could have killed us without us every knowing, Davos thought hopefully as the group of Skagosi, covered in animal furs and simple armours approached them. The crewmen followed his lead on the matte, raising their arms slowly as the Skagosi took their weapons and began to put chains on them, including Davos.
The Group had been brought to a large settlement in the woods, the buildings were largely wooden, but some of the larger ones had been built with Stone. Davos and the group were met with wary stares from villagers, watching them. Davos had seen that stare before on his travels on the sea. He'd even seen it from the Lords and Ladies of the Southern Courts. We're outsiders here. Davos wasn't a particularly pious man but he prayed that his life would not end today, as he was brought into the long hall, brought in front of whoever was in charge of the settlement. The hall was warm, with a fire in the centre and tables to each side, filled with men and women, all carrying swords and axes on their person, some made of material as black as night. They all looked rough to Davos. They make the dangerous ones from Flea Bottom look like children, Davos thought to himself with a small smile. At the front was an older man, sitting on a simple chair with a drink in hand. He looked as rough as the rest of them, but with grey hair and a missing eye. It didn't take anything from his intimidating stature and a scowl. The man spoke with a deep, guttural voice,
"Are you with the black brothers the Magnars found on the shore mainlander?"
Davos shook his head, speaking with his own Flea Bottom accent, something else thought to be guttural,
"No milord, I'm not with the black brothers."
The Skagosi gave him an amused look before returning to a scowl, "You're here on your own business then. Not theirs."
"Aye. I'm here on behalf of Lord Manderly." Davos said confidently. He doubted the Skagosi knew who Stannis was, but a Northern house they might. And he doubted the group would like any lies. The stares were unnervingly penetrating.
The Skagosi kept his scowl, "The Manderly sent you to Skagos. We don't talk to them much, our Northern brothers. Why?"
"He asked me to return a lad back to the mainland. He has a wolf with him. I'm to bring him home."
That started muttering in the group. They knew there was a lad with a wolf on the island. At least Manderly was right, the lad didn't die at Winterfell.
"You want The Rickon then mainlander. So do the Black Brothers." The leader of the Skagosi group stated.
Davos wondered how the Black Brothers knew about Rickon. At least the Skagosi knew. Then a shout came from one of the tables, "He wants to give him to the Flayers Crowl!" "He'll kill The Stark and his Direwolf!"
"The flayers will put their skin on the floors!"
"Send him and the others to Cannibal's Cave!"
The shouts were angry ones. This lot were clearly wanting to protect the boy. A loyal lot for a group that doesn't speak with the mainland much. It was the only thought that went through his head, trying not to think of what Cannibal's Cave meant.
Davos decided to brave and shout before the lot decided he was a threat. I probably am for just being here.
"I'm not here for the Boltons! Manderly wants him so he can drive the bastards out of the North!" The group kept shouting, it had moved to Liar now.
The older Skagosi leader, Crowl from what he heard, stood up, bringing the hall to silence, "We'll bring the mainlander to the Magnars at the shore! He can join the black brothers they have there and see what they really want with the Rickon! Send word to the Stanes as well! We move on the morn!"
The group of Skagosi started to grumble at the command but all seemed in agreement at least. I'm going to live for now at least, Davos thought, some air escaping from his lungs as they brought him out of the hall and into a small hut, with guards at the front.
*
This gathering to see the mainlanders was a lot larger than the one in the woods. Davos and his crew, along with a large number of the Skagosi from the settlement, had come to a coastal town. It was a lot less elaborate or built up than White Harbour but it was still large. The town was the Home of the Magnars according to the Skagosi that he'd talked with. Out on the coast, Davos could see a collection of ships anchored out there. Davos couldn't see the sails but he guessed they'd be black. The brothers had sent about half their fleet, Davos could tell. He'd seen the full fleet when he was at Eastwatch. Most of those ships they couldn't use. Not enough men. They must have been on a skeleton crew, Davos realised. It was always riskier, operating a ship with less men in case of pirates or a savage sea, but it could be done. Davos had done it enough times.
Davos and his crewmen had been brought to the centre of the town, surrounded by growing numbers of Skagosi, all looking straight at them. They had been placed to one of the Black Brothers, Cotter Pyke, the captain at Eastwatch and commander of the castle. They waited silently as the Skagosi gradually filled up the centre of the town. Davos and his crew had been unbound, much like Pyke. We don't have the numbers or the skill to escape if we tried.
Davos watched as three men and three women entered the clearing in the town, one of them being The Crowl. He guessed these were the Lords and Ladies of Skagos, or chiefs. He wasn't sure what their titles were besides The. They weren't the ones to bring silence to the large crowd that surrounded them. It was a howl, and a damn vicious one at that. Davos didn't know where the howl came from, but he had an idea what it was. The Direwolf is here. Davos watched as the crowd parted again, with a massive black wolf walking through them. Its teeth were bare and it was snarling. It was almost as big as a horse. To its side were a woman and a boy, both dressed in furs. The woman was slender with dark brown hair and crooked teeth. And there was the lad, with messy brownish red hair and light blue eyes, almost grey, face almost a snarl like his wolf. Rickon Stark. The boy looked young, no more than Nine by now if Davos remembered his dates right. For a boy though, he looked hardened, almost as savage as his wolf. Davos could see two knives strapped to the lad's side. One of bone and the other of black Dragon Glass. The three joined the chiefs, with the Direwolf staring right at him with big yellow eyes.
I'm fucked. That was Davos' first thought. I'm fucked and I'm probably going to be food. That was his second thought.
It was the Crowl that first spoke, almost to everyone, but his eye on the boy.
"These people have been looking for you The Rickon. The man I brought, missing a few fingers, says he's here for the Manderly."
It was the woman who spoke first, with a similar accent to the Northmen he had met, albeit a little thicker, "You met him once little Prince at the Harvest Feast."
She spoke softly to him, it reminded him of his wife. She had always been like that with the young.
A nice thought to have if it all goes wrong, thinking of my wife on Cape Wrath with our sons Stannis and Steffon.
The young Stark looked deep in thought then nodded, his accent mixed, between Northmen and Skagosi "Aye, The Fat one with a bigger smile."
Davos had to hold back a laugh at that. Manderly had been intimidating when he put him in the Wolf's Den but to hear him reduced to that was a funny one.
It was one of the other chiefs who spoke, "And the one in Black claims to be here on your brother's orders."
"Which one? The one that marched South? He's dead. Bran? Gone so North I can't see him anymore."
It was the woman who spoke again "You have another Little Prince. Bran told us both of him. He joined the crows with his white wolf."
Rickon's eyes seemed to light up there for a moment, "You mean Da?"
"No little Prince, Jon. He left before we met. He just looks like him from what I'm told."
The lad doesn't remember his father's dead. And he thinks his half-brother is him. The thought made Davos sad, wondering if his youngest would think that of Devan who looked like him.
Rickon's face turned to a scowl, pointing his finger right at the black brother, "And you hurt him! You left him on the ice, covered in his blood! Crows killed my brother before he came back Magnar!"
Cotter Pyke's face went white at the lad's accusation. Davos would have called it a tantrum if it didn't sound as savage. The wolf was snarling as well, slowly approaching them, but focused on the black brother.
"I did nothing to Jon! I was in East Watch when that happened Boy! How could you know what happened?!"
The Direwolf was still approaching, snarl getting louder and louder. Davos was too focused to think on both of their words.
The Stark boy shouted louder, "I saw it in My Dreams! I saw the White Wolf fight them!" One of the other women at the front turned to the lad, "Did you see him in your dreams lad?"
Rickon looked at Pyke deeply, then shook his head, clearly annoyed though, "No! Only Crows in Black!"
"Then it won't be him lad. If you saw the wolf fight them as well, they'll all be dead."
That seemed to calm the lad down at least. The wolf was next to them now, bared teeth and snarling and sniffing. It sniffed at the group for what seemed like an age before stopping, then returning to Rickon's side.
The Crowl raised an eyebrow, "A good sign for the lot of you. The last man the wolf didn't like died a slow death. Ripped apart like a cut of meat on a long winter's night."
The sentence didn't ease Davos' worries.
The Crowl kept talking to the group, "Davos wants you to go with him so Manderly can fight the Boltons."
The Magnar nodded, turning his head to the crow, "The Crow says similar. Speaks for The Rickon's brother. Tell us all what message you had."
Davos watched as Pyke took a relieved sigh, "Jon Snow told me to bring half of the fleet here and to bring his brother Rickon and your armies to the North. He wants his family back and for you to give the Boltons hell."
Davos could hear the Skagosi crowd start to speak amongst themselves. The chiefs looking at each
other.
The Crowl spoke again, "The Rickon's brother wants us to fight on the mainland. A surprise. The Mainland thinks us as bad as the Squids."
Pyke shook his head, "Jon said in the missive that him and Rickon will let you have your ships back. To strengthen the might of the first men."
The chiefs were all looking to each other there. The sounds in the crowd sounded almost excited.
The Stane, who had been mostly quiet, finally raised his voice, "He trusts us? He doesn't think us scum like the Iron Born? He sees us as Northmen?"
Pyke spoke more calmly, "The missive he gave said you were loyal Stark men ever since they proved their might to you a century ago."
The Stane smiled, "The Jon understands then. I'll fight with him then."
The Crowl nodded his head, "I'll fight then, I'll fight with the Manderlys too. About time the North sees how Islanders fight!"
The Magnar looked to Rickon, "Do you want us to fight The Rickon?"
The woman who hadn't left the lad's sight bent down to Rickon, "Do you want to see Jon?" Rickon nodded with a smile, "Aye, I want to see Jon Osha."
The Magnar shouted to the crowd, "Then We Fight!!!!"
Davos felt relief. Rickon Stark was returning home, Manderly's words echoing in his head. The Mummer's Farce is almost done, bring me my Liege Lord and I will declare Stannis my King. The Manderlys will fight for Stannis now, and he has Jon Snow, Rickon Stark and Skagos behind him. Davos smiled as he was offered drink by the Skagosi. He wasn't sure if he'd earnt it yet though, not until Rickon was safely in the North. Davos drank as the massive wolf howled. They were going to take the North.
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone