285 AC – Part I
The shoe had finally dropped.
It had not been the ironborn suddenly appearing on the horizon as I half expected – at least not yet – but the religious tension in the Riverlands coming to a head as the long conflict between houses Bracken and Blackwood escalated into a complete train wreck. They had been often skirmishing in the past but never had it grown to the level of violence reached in recent months. The Brackens had been reinforced by some five thousand religious fanatics desiring to burn the ancient weirwood of Raventree hall to ashes and salt every bit of earth the northern heathens had touched since their arrival from the north.
Lord Tytos Blackwood fought like a madman as did his men but in the end he could do nothing more than win a pyrrhic victory with more fanatics gathering even as he struggled to put together his shattered forces. The Blackfish had been unable to interfere as much as he wished to, his forces still being in the process of being rebuilt and his hold on the Riverlands being shaky at best. Wyndal also pointed out that commands to reinforce Raventree Hall might not be observed by some of his more religious men, which might have forced him to do something drastic to keep control, which in turn would have led to an even shakier reign. As such he could not afford the open fighting to continue just as much as he could not afford to put a stop to it, leaving him to turn to Lord Stark for help.
House Blackwood had been founded in the age of heros, thousands of years ago, and called the wolfswood their home in the first centuries of their existence. At some point they had gotten into conflict with house Stark during which the noble house had been driven out of the north by the kings of winter. Now they would be coming home.
An agreement had been reached between houses Stark, Tully and Blackwood… and the faith. The inhabitants of Raventree hall would be granted one year of respite to pack up and move north, the peace for that time being guaranteed by all involved parties. Nobody other than Lord Stark was really happy about the result of the talks but all supported it, the reasons being different for each party.
House Blackwood agreed because of necessity. While lord Tytos was greatly pained to vacate the castle his family had called home for centuries he nonetheless was and had always been a very practical man. To him being alive and exiled – for it was nothing less, really – beat being dead and at home every time of the day. More so as he had a family of his own now and would loath to see them dead because he was too stubborn for his own good. His family had always been the odd one out in the Riverlands with it holding true to their first men roots and their faith, something which involved them in conflicts more than ever before now that the Faith of the Seven continued to gain power. Just like many other refugees that recently passed Moat Cailin, he understood that he had overstayed his welcome, leaving him with two options. Fight and struggle mostly alone against endless hordes of fanatics supporting his rival Bracken or retreat into friendly territory. He had chosen the second option and would take with him everything that wasn't nailed down as well as most of his people, followers of the old gods as well as those adhering to the Seven.
House Tully agreed because of weakness and lost a powerful vassal forever. I could not fathom what Brynden Tully had been smoking to let everything come apart at the seams, but there just as well could be concerns that I wasn't aware of. To me it looked like the lord paramount of the Riverlands lost the most after house Blackwood. A loyal house less, an unruly house empowered, an uncontrollable horde of fanatics silently validated in their actions and the respect of nobles and smallfolk alike lost in amounts that beggared belief. While Brynden managed to keep the rulership of the Riverlands for his nephew, I felt it to be in name only by now. Riverrun still had some power but not enough to enforce their rule as they had just proven and everybody knew it. After reading through the letters I had ordered the fields expanded and more grain to be brought from outside sources yet again, suspecting that I would see a rise in immigrants in the near future.
House Stark agreed because of honor and gained what it needed most after the rebellion, numbers and a house that would be loyal to them until it went extinct. Just as the Manderlys continued to be the Starks most adherent supporters even now, thousands of years after being granted a safe haven within the north, the Blackwoods would be not far behind them. Lord Tytos would be bringing more than 40.000 people with him, more than outweighing any losses the north had taken during the rebellion. In fact not all of the new immigrants hailed from their lands but many followers of the old gods from other areas would join them, using the opportunity presented to them. The Blackwoods would be settled in their ancestral lands in the south eastern wolfswood, that had remained empty since they had departed it, and be beholden to Lord Glover just as I was. This also had the added benefit of balancing my quickly growing power and raising Lord Glover to the level of the other great northern houses such as Bolton, Karstark or Manderly, balancing that as well… not that Lord Stark would ever say so.
The Faith agreed because of satisfaction and because it – ironically enough – knew what fights could be picked and which would be better left alone for now. According to my still infant information network King Robert was coming down hard on the resurgent Faith Militant, leaving them to be easily tempted away from stamping out the Blackwoods for good. With their departure the only hold out of the old gods in the Riverlands would be the island of faces. The Faith had already sent three different parties with enough incendiaries to burn down half the Riverlands to see this blight upon the land – according to their priests – scoured from the earth. None of the men were ever seen again, the thick mist surrounding the island swallowing them and leaving only silence in its wake. By now I had also heard rumors that a fourth party had been dispatched and returned to shore without having been able to find the island, the mist having become a permanent fixture in recent months. Curious indeed.
I was gaining a powerful neighbor and hopefully an ally and had been commanded by lord Stark to ease their arrival to the best of my ability. This had multiple benefits for me as my reputation would rise a lot by helping the north's 'lost sons' and welcoming them home after being 'chased out by the southrons and their honourless lot'. By supporting house Blackwood I would also gain a valuable ally, at least in the long term. For some years yet the arriving noble house would be struggling to establish itself but after a period in time – and with my help – they would most likely become a net positive for me. More so as they brought enough people along to really change the political landscape and insulate me somewhat more from less amiable nobles.
Because I was nearest to their future lands and more affluent than pretty much every other lord close by, I had been tasked with repairing the ancestral Blackwood castle and preparing for the arrival of the newly northern house to the best of my ability. Something which I took to with a gusto but quickly ran into a not so little problem as I wanted to actually get it done.
Nobody knew where the fuck the Blackwood was located.
Thousands of years had passed since the noble house had been driven to the Riverlands and no maps had survived the turn of the millennia. While a rough area could be and had been narrowed down I would still need to send out search parties by the dozen to rediscover the ancestral lands of house Blackwood. Which of course was just what I did, nearly a hundred men sorted into parties of five vanishing into the wolfswood in search of the ancestral Blackwood seat. As there was nothing I could do until they returned with the information I needed I instead turned my attention to other topics.
Knowing that Wyndal had the preparation work well in hand I grabbed Nathan and a strong escort and set out for the mountains, Theo Wulls invitation not leaving me in peace until I actually took him up on the offer. He had never specified what he wanted for me to take a look at and my curiosity was driving me up the wall! For a moment I had considered taking Alysanne and little Thor along as well but throwing the fact that I had 'replaced' his dead daughter into the clan chief's face just might be bad form, so I refrained. Alysanne accepted the reason easily enough, completely distracted by her weapons training as well as making Rytherstone her home in the first place.
She had been unable to beat Harren yet and it irked her something fierce. While my new wife would likely never be one to govern more than in name in my absence, she nonetheless had ambition – and stubbornness – in spades, just in another area. I really should introduce her to the female Mormonts I read about at some point, I muse. They would either be best friends from the start or try to kill each other at every opportunity. Either way there was a lot of potential for my personal amusement.
My son of course was ecstatic being allowed to travel for the first time in his life and asked questions about literally everything after leaving the castle's walls, making me hope that he would grow bored with it at some point. Sadly he had a lot of endurance and I answered questions for hours until he became tired enough that he nearly fell off his pony. As we still had some distance to cover I placed him in the saddle before me and left him to be swayed to sleep by the horses movements. This routine repeated itself for nearly a week with Nathan becoming more used to traveling and branching out to ask my men at arms a lot of questions as well. While I was grateful that his attention wandered I could not help myself feeling apprehensive, my paranoia rearing its head at the more or less quiet trip.
The men did not say anything at me ordering the usual night guard of four people to be doubled but I spied a lot of annoyed looks, that I flat out chose to ignore. With my two dozen guards this would put a third of my men awake at any given point, making me much calmer. On the third night after implementing the change I was sadly proven right as a cry of alarm echoes over our current camp before turning into a wet gurgle.
I am awake instantly and have a sword in hand before I am even standing up from my place within the small tent, my chainmail – that I nearly always wore by now – clinking slightly at the movement. Exiting the tent I am confronted by a man I do not recognize and on reflex more than anything else ran him through at once, the leather armor covering his torso not even slowing down the castle forged steel.
"To arms!", I roar loudly as I take stock of the situation, quickly ducking low as an arrow whizzes through the place my head had been a moment before, ripping my sword out of the corpse I had just made in the same motion. The guards were fighting nearly three times their number of bandits, for their equipment, or lack thereof, made them out to be so, as sporadic arrows hit them from the surrounding trees. My men were holding their own only because of their superior equipment but suffered casualties anyway, three still figures having joined twice that number of dead or grievously wounded brigands on the bloody battleground.
Waving my frightened son back to stay in the tent and make himself as small a target as possible I joined the fight myself only to be nearly instantly hit by two arrows. One glancing off my shoulder, half shattering on the steel rings of my mail while the other pierces clearly through my left arm. I am not embarrassed to admit that I screamed in pain at the sudden blow before adrenaline washed the agony away as I broke off the wooden shaft on both sides and joined the battle proper. Hesitation meant death as I had learned from experience, wounded or not.
My sword sunk deeply into the back of the first bandit before being ripped out sideways, the man going down at once. The next man to face me swings a big ax at my head in a wild and nearly panicked swing that I deflect with my sword before cutting his throat with the dagger in my second hand, the movement of my injured arm nearly bringing tears to my eyes. My focus wavers for a moment as agony radiates off the wound, leaving me near stationary for a split second before I can regain my equilibrium. Two more arrows barely miss me and I absently notice that I attract a lot more of the projectiles than my men.
My mail saves my life yet again an eye blink later as a thrown dagger fails to penetrate the weave on my back, only leaving a bruise behind at the power behind the throw. Turning around I feel my eyes widen as I spot two bandits killing the man I left behind to guard the tent my son is hiding in and vanishing into it, a panicked scream reaching my ears a moment later. Roaring in rage I sprint to the tent, nearly bisecting the unshaven man that tries to block my way and all but throwing his remains out of my path. Before I can reach the tent the bandit comes out again, a strained dagger poised at the throat of my son. I stop at once, glaring at the man as the battle behind me comes to an end or at least the skirmish stopped. My eyes are completely focussed on the situation in front of me and I did not spare the situation behind me even a glance, trusting in my men to keep my back secure.
I simply stare thunderously at the man holding Nathan hostage and he grins at me unpleasantly even though I can easily see that his confidence is brittle at best. Yellowed teeth open to speak and I am yet again reminded that dental hygiene was very much optional in this time period, the thought coming unbidden despite the dire situation.
"You will stay right there and let us leave, Milord", he states loudly before pressing the bared steel in his hand a little more against my sons skin, drawing blood as the boy whimpers in fright but does not move, completely frozen in terror. "Otherwise the little one will pay the price. Have 500 dragons ready in a moon's time and you will get him back unharmed... Tarry and you get him back piece by piece."
My eyes narrow and I bend down to grab a bow and an arrow from the dead guard laying at my feet, my gaze never leaving the eyes of the kidnapper. A strange calm comes over me, blocking the pain from my arm completely as everything but my son and the men surrounding him sort of… fades from my perspective. Drawing the arrow back I aim in his direction and speak with a cold voice that actually causes some of the half a dozen men that had joined the would-be kidnapper to shiver.
"The only way for you to leave this place alive is to release my son, lay down your weapons and take the black."
The man holding Nathan purples in anger and all but screams at me."I have YOUR son! You WILL let us leave!"
I stare at the man evenly, my eyes completely flat. "How about...no."
The arrow enters his brain through his left eyeball, the gelatinous orb bursting as the bandit collapses bonelessly, his dagger scraping against Nathan's skin but only lightly wounding him further. My son remains completely frozen, not moving an inch even as blood trickles down his front from his wounded throat.
Having drawn another arrow in a motion so fast that it might as well have teleported there I caused the other men to freeze as well in their motion to grab my son. "Anyone that touches my son will die", I state unnaturally calm and absently nod to the man I had just shot through the head, "surrender and live or don't and die. Choose."
The clatter of weapons hitting the ground reaches my ears a moment later and I nod, only relaxing as the sobbing form of my son hits me a split second later. Taking a deep breath I take a second to take stock and glance behind me to the primary battleground, my hands shaking as the adrenaline fully hits me. Ten of my guards still stood, having gathered behind me after putting down their enemies. I suspected that at least an archer or two of the brigand party had escaped into the night, the ranged fighters never having entered the small clearing, but for now I could care less. Looking down at the shivering figure still pressed tightly at my midriff I scowl darkly, the reascended throbbing in my arm not doing my mood any favors.
My thoughts grow even darker as questioning the surviving attackers reveals them to have been paid to attack me yet again. While it had been a great annoyance before, whoever had it out for me had just jumped right to the very top of my shit list. Attacking me and my lands was bad enough but now they had harmed my family, that made it personal.
While I had not been one to hold a grudge in my old life there was a line that had been crossed and I swore to myself that I would make whoever was responsible bleed for it. Nathan thankfully recovered quickly, his young personality badly shaken but easily distracted as well. I had noticed that he had taken to carrying a small dagger along though. Understanding his need for some sort of security even without my presence I allowed it after warning him of handling it responsibly, again noting the stark contrast between my old and new home. Giving a small boy a deadly weapon – for it was nothing less – would have had the system on my arse before I could do as much as blink… here it was just a fucked up day amongst many.
I was still looking thunderous as we passed the palisade surrounding the main settlement of clan Wull, the guards quickly guiding us to the main hall as they spotted us and our state. The dead had been burned on a pyre on my order, which still left our party looking like we had been through a small war with bandages being an all prevalent decoration. Half a dozen defeated looking and dirty men being dragged behind our horses added to the picture as well and summoned Theo Wull in a hurry, my son's grandfather appearing out of a wooden longhouse in a hurry.
"Darren", he greets me while eyeing the sorry looking procession I was leading, "what happened?"
"Bandits...been paid by someone to attack my party. Again.", I state and suppress a surge of rage that rose up again as I thought back on the recent happenings.
"How bad was it?", the clan chief asks at once, experience telling him that his first impression was unlikely to show him the full picture.
"It was close", I admit at once without an ounce of shame, not feeling like I had to hide the situation from family. "They surprised us at night and I lost half of my men in the fighting. Nathan got wounded as well as the bandits took him hostage. I…"
Taking a deep breath to calm the rage that was yet again flaring up I continue. "I saw to the safety of the little one and captured the rest. Can I impose on you to see them to the Wall?"
"Oh yes… of course", he grunts, eyeing the sorry looking lot I had taken prisoner. "They will get their just rewards."
I chose to ignore the cold anger behind his worth and mentally downgraded the chance of the prisoners actually reaching the wall by at least half, not that I cared overly much. They were no longer my problem and I had already gotten everything I could of them. Like the other bandit groups they had been hired and paid in advance by some average looking guy but I had finally gleaned one additional piece of information. The man had been speaking in what one of the bandits recognized as an accent being spoken in the area around Seaguard, him hailing from the same lands. It did not really help me in the greater scheme of things as anybody could hire people from literally everywhere to do their dirty work, but by now I was taking what I could.
Once I returned I would also have my people actively seek out brigands and outright offer them double the pay this 'mysterious figure' offered them if they brought him to me alive and unharmed… or something like that. I wasn't sure yet how to best go about chasing after a person I had no real description of. Relaying on bandits to do my work instead of seeing to their end did sound right to me even though that was exactly what my enemies were doing. Shaking myself out of my thoughts I return to the present and reintroduce Nathan to his grandfather, both not having meet for well over a year.
A duration that may just as well be an eternity for my son considering his age. Both warmed up to each other again quickly and before I knew it my son was chattering away at the man, much to my amusement and his pleasure. I am led to a guest room by a servant, where I clean myself thoroughly of the blood and grime I had not managed to wash off on the road. A little later an ancient looking woman without even a single tooth to her name knocks at my door and before I know it a foul smelling paste is smeared on my wounds as she chatters away lively despite her shaking voice. It seems I wasn't the only one not deserving a maester, the clans or at least clan Wull also helping themselves instead.
Nathan enters my room a few hours later and joins me in my bed, not that I notice it clearly, being tired and half sleeping as I was. My son sleeps fitfully and I am painfully reminded of his age and that his recent experience would leave scars. Drawing him closer and soothing the would be nightmare before it can manifest, I again swear to myself that I would get to the person or persons behind the attacks and that I would make it hurt.
The next day we are breaking our fast in the great longhall of clan Wull, the big building being completely separate from others contrary to most other castles and other fortifications I had seen in my time in Westeros. Many clan members ate in the great hall, only the position on the head of the hall showing Theo Wulls higher social status, nothing else really showing the difference. I found that I liked the jovial atmosphere in the building and happily ate my meal, my arm only now and then sending a twinge of pain through my body. Whatever that old hedge witch had used the night before was working wonders and I mentally made a note to get the recipe of her paste at some point.
My son's grandfather takes a seat next to me, smiling as Nathan waves at him with a mouth stuffed full to bursting. I look at the boy and roll my eyes, not yet having managed to instill proper table manners into the lad.
"I hope you found some rest?", Theo Wull asks gruffly as he grabs some bread and butter.
"Aye...", I answered after swallowing and throwing my son a look that all but screamed `see! That's how you do it!´, only to get a slightly embarrassed shrug in return.
"Good...good...We have little time to waste and some hours of climbing to do."
I blink. "Climbing?"
"The cave I want to show you is higher in the mountains than we are, Darren… but you need to see it. The sooner the better.", he replies at once, his gaze far away as if remembering something that wouldn´t quite fit as it should.
Humming in agreement I cannot help but be curious indeed. What was this cave all about?
Before the sun has really cleared the surrounding mountains we are off, a dozen hardy clansmen joining Chief Wull, Nathan and myself while my men remain behind to rest. They had done their part and in the mountains the clansmen would be of far more use than my men, who had lived in less steep terrains all their lives.
We follow small wild trails and go up, always up, until the air begins to thin and I am panting to get enough oxygen into my lungs to drive me forwards. Nathan is struggling as well but suffers through the experience without complaint, eyes alight as he looks over the sun lit mountains. I have to admit that the sight is simply breathtaking and not only in the literal sense. The snow covered mountains are beautiful indeed and I find myself distracted by the scenery more than I should, one of the clansmen having to stop me from walking right off a cliff in a moment of distraction. That would have been plain embarrassing…
We enter the cloud cover after three hours of steep climbing and two rest periods, mostly for Nathan and myself. The boy had taken to being carried by the clansmen for short periods to rest while in motion, exhaustion finding his small body far sooner than it did us adults. Half an hour later we do not see anything but white before breaking through the clouds and finally reaching the area above. I halt for a moment, taking in the sight that yet again nearly brought me to tears by beauty alone. Snow covered mountains pierced the soft blanket of clouds that seemed to embrace the whole world, while the sun shined on us completely without hindrance and bathed everything into nearly white radiance.
Theo Wull leaves me be for a few minutes before setting off yet again, heading for a small cave I can finally spot near the top of the mountain we had been ascending all this time. Well, it was still half a mile to the top but considering the distance we had climbed to reach this point I considered it to be close enough. Our mountain was also by far the smallest assembly of rock and stone compared to the other giants around us, now that I thought about it. At the mouth of the cave Theo halts and waves his men to the sides.
"Only we will enter, my men will stay at the entrance.", he states before turning and walking into the cave after lighting a torch he had been carrying along all this time.
Nathan and I share a look and follow, still feeling a little light headed at the thin air. Moving after the clan chief I quickly notice the air getting thicker as roots of some sort start to appear on the walls, obviously growing completely without sunlight. I could not quite understand where the roots were coming from as I took them to be unable to burrow through the hard granite. Also there had been nothing green for miles around us, so finding plant life here did surprise me quite a bit.
Moving through the cave we finally enter a great hollowed out area and I cannot help but stop and stare , the light falling through a hole far above our heads nearly blinding me after the gloom of the tunnel we had just passed through. The cave was easily five hundred meters across and half as high, brilliant sunlight falling through a small hole in the ceiling. The walls were all but covered in crystals of different colors, reflecting the sunlight and bathing the whole area in warm and multicolored light that was as beautiful as it was near painful.
This alone would have made the journey worth it but I was actually mostly focused on the center of the cave, where a freaking giant weirwood grew in a patch of grass. Looking around I actually noticed that the whole cave was all but teeming with plant life, the temperature within the confines of the room being noticeably higher than outside the mountain. Still reeling I refocus on the weirwood, which dwarfed the tree at Winterfell by at least a factor of three and continue to stare in mute stupor. It takes a while for me to notice that a small wooden hut sits right next to the weirwood and I am just about to ask Theo a lot of questions as he moves forwards again, forcing my son and myself to follow.
Approaching the hut he stops a good dozen meters away, respectfully bowing.
"Elder, we come to pay our respects and ask for guidance."
I look in confusion at the man before my attention is diverted by the small wooden door leading into the hut opening. My confusion turns into outright wonder as big and ancient eyes meet mine from the face of what could have been taken as a child in less lighted conditions. Slightly green and brown skin shows in areas not covered by clothing obviously made out of plant matter, thin fingers tipped by small blackish claws gently opening the door fully for the figure to pass through.
My mind still sort of blue screening, I am struck speechless. Nathan is as well, but more as he takes his cues from my reaction than any real understanding of the situation.
A child of the forest. God damn!
"Ah, young one", a thin voice replies, coming from the small figure that carefully exits her – for it seemed to me to be a "she" - tiny hut. "It has been some time since we spoke."
"It has been, elder.", Theo answers at once, posture still screaming respect even as he looks up again. "We would not have disturbed your peace without reason. My kin has found… signs… from beyond the wall pointing at the return of the ancient enemy. We seek your wisdom, elder."
"Ahhh…..", she sighs and waves for us to sit on the vibrantly green grass in front of her hut while she takes a seat on one of the scattered rocks interrupting the plant cover. Ancient eyes muster once over a long moment before another sigh escapes her and she suddenly looks even more tired than she had before if such a thing were possible.
"The enemy is stirring", she finally states with a sad nod and I twitch, finally having confirmation of what I had long suspected. It would have been nice to have them not showing up and all my preparations in vain but it seemed not to be.
"Stirring, elder? Not awake?", I speak up myself, my voice nearly breaking from a mix of wonder and stress.
"No, child, not yet.", the ancient child replies. "The first of them are moving and my kin in the north feel their ice and cold getting stronger. Like an avalanche they will come… you will have to be prepared or be washed away by the winter they bring."
"Winter is coming", I mutter almost absently and she only nods, luminescent eyes dimming slightly.
"The Starks in Winterfell know much...but they have forgotten even more. The old pact is weak but it still remains."
"The old pact?", I inquired carefully.
"Once my people and yours fought side by side against the enemy, as did the giantkin and some others… now, few remember and even less would act upon it."
Suddenly she stares me right in the eyes and I feel more than see everything around us slowing down to a near standstill. I hear her voice echo through my mind even though her lips do not move. "You have done much. More will be yet required. Stay strong."
Time speeds up again and I am left deeply shaken and with the clear impression that these words were meant for me and me alone, not even a hint of what had just transpired being shown on the beings face. The compulsion not to ask for clarification was strong and I followed it for the moment, unwilling to go against the flow. The old being in front of us stands up slowly as if really feeling her age.
"I have one task, one council and one gift for you."
We stand up as well, listening carefully, as she points at Theo Wull.
"My task is for you to go to the Stark in Winterfell. In what he calls a solar you will find a great map of the continent and behind it a wall that hides what his father should have taught. He must learn."
Pausing a moment as we commit her words to memory she continues
"My council is not to be divided. Every moment the members of the pact spend fighting amongst themselves is a victory for the enemy."
I mentally grimace, knowing that she was right but not how to change it. At my estimation the continent would come apart even sooner than in canon with all the butterflies around and I did not have the necessary influence to change it overly much. Still, it reaffirmed my intention to build up strength at the best of my ability and to aid others in doing so as well, building a strong foundation for the things to come.
"My gift is to you", she states and nods at me before vanishing into her hut for a moment, returning with a wrapped bundle a moment later. I hesitantly take it and unveil what I know to be a weapon. My eyes go wide as I glean the item within.
A formidable looking one handed battle ax is revealed, the black blade glittering in the sun falling from above. I grasped the weapon carefully, noting that the head seemed to me chiseled out of obsidian and was all but covered in small runes. As was the weirwood shaft, the script covering the whole wood until it vanished beneath the tightly wrapped leather strings covering the handle for a better grip. I am very much reminded of viking battle axes by the way the blade is curved and set upon the wood. It was a great weapon of war… and one I did not really know how to use.
"I thank you, elder", I state still half in stupor, only just managing to mentally slap myself before I could point out that I was an archer and not a close combat fighter.
"It will be of great use to you", she forestkin states sagely. "It will never break and aid you when steel has long since failed."
"A great gift indeed...", I mutter and look at the weapon anew, the runes suddenly looking even more special to me in the glittering light. Nathan stares in awe at the weapon while Theo Wull only nods quietly, preoccupied with the task he had been given.
"Now go", she states and waves in the direction of the exit, "and know that my kin to the south and north will be watching, as will I. May the winds and the earth bless you."
We leave after a respectful bow and I feel my mind whirling at all that had just happened. Keeping our silence as we move through the tunnel again I turn to Theo the very moment we hit sunlight again.
"You could have warned me."
He snorts, shaking his head. "Grumpkins and snarks, Darren. In this case seeing is believing… Did you not wonder why I was so easy to accept your reasons for going north? Now you know."
I am struck speechless for a moment, feeling slightly embarrassed as I had actually not thought further about the topic after our last meeting. Which left me questioning why Lord Stark had not called me out on my 'delusions' more than he had.
"The mountains have many secrets, Darren.", the clan chief continues, eyes far away. "This is one of them and maybe even the greatest… The clans have come to the elder for council for generations but only kin may know. It has always been so."
Keeping my silence I nod and turn my gaze back to the cave only to freeze, only smooth snow meeting my eyes. The entrance had vanished as if it had never been there. Theo meets my wild gaze with a calm knowing one. "The Highwood is well protected and only appears in times of need."
Before I can put my questions into words we are joined again by the other clansmen and begin our descent. By the time we reach the clan settlement night has long since fallen and I can only collapse into my bed, out like a light, as the happenings of the day catch up with me. Nathan again sleeps at my side, needing the closeness yet still.
Over the next few days Theo and I speak a lot as he teaches me the fundamentals of the ax. It seemed that the child of the forest somehow knew that this particular type of axe would be a good weapon for me, my abilities with the weapon growing by leaps and bounds as I felt strangely complete with it in my hand. Not to say that I would not still use the bow whenever possible but it seemed to me that I had finally found a melee weapon that I could actually grow to like, maybe even cherish.
Over the training sessions the clan chief tells me a lot of the clan's way of life and airs some grievances as well. Many a lord looked down on them as savages despite their warriors actually outnumbering many of the greater nobles if push came to shove. Despite the clan chief's words I can see where many of the nobles were coming from, having an outsider's perspective. The clans were hardy folk and a lot closer to their first men roots than a lot of other northmen, which automatically would put them also closer to the free folk in many eyes. I keep this realization to myself, knowing that it might not go over well with my old father in law.
Nathan often joined me on the field, whenever he wasn't running around the compound with the children of clan Wull. The little one had taken to his training sword far better than I ever had and I had high hopes that he would grow to some ability with the weapon. Knowing what I did of the future, I knew that martial ability would be desperately needed if I wanted him to have a chance at reaching thirty. My first instinct after his birth had been to ship him off to Braavos before the shit really hit the fan but I refrained, knowing that I could not do so for a multiple of reasons, the boy's own stubborn streak being one of them. Instead I focussed on preparing him to the best of my ability.
We leave again a week later, our escort reinforced by two dozen clan warriors that would escort us back to my lands at my request. I was done with taking chances and after the attack on the way to the mountains I would not put it past whoever had it out for me to try again on the way back. The last ambush had come a lot closer to success than I liked, so it felt best to me to deny the opportunity itself to the best of my ability. Chief Wulf and another two dozen men joined us on the first stretch of the journey, parting in the direction of Winterfell as soon as we had left the mountains proper.
Thankfully the journey passed without any more brigands crossing our way and I breathed a great sigh of relief as Rytherstone appeared on the horizon. Alysanne is glad to have us back as well, the long dark hair swinging in the breeze as she awaits us in the inner courtyard, dressed in leather armor reinforced by metal scales and with her spear at her side.
"Husband", she smiles and I incline my head with an answering smile.
"Wife"
"Took you long enough.", she muses with some humor and helps Nathan off his pony after handing her spear to one of the female servants that had taken to follow her around. "Have you found what you have been seeking?"
I smile and scowl at the same time, if such a thing was possible. "Chief Wull showed me something truly… memorable."
"Sadly not all is well. We have been attacked by bandits yet again on our way to the mountains… and will need to add more names to the Blackstone.", I continue sadly and glance back as my decimated escort finishes riding into the courtyard, a lot of empty horses bringing up the rear. Alysanne curses in the old tongue and shakes her head.
"There has been a lot of that lately."
"Aye", I agree and start to walk into the castle with her and Nathan joining me at once. "There has… and I intend to put an end to it, one way or another."