Chương 24: Chapter 24
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***
A few days had passed since the King of the North's wedding. Robb had given orders to prepare for the new campaign - blacksmiths spent days straightening swords, patching armour and sharpening the already sharp steel.
Provisions and forage for the long march were being prepared, cloaks were being sewn up. The king and his lords were discussing the plan of action going forward, and Theon... Theon was preparing to return home. He had taken with him almost everything he had on hand. A Chardraven bow, a sword, his armour, and a couple of sacks of gold that he had obtained according to his father's precepts - paid in iron.
He would reach Sigard with their masters, Lord Jason Mallister and his heir Patrick. Robb had sent a letter to his father, so he would have to wait for a ship in Seagard that would take him to Pyke.
They said goodbye to Robb, and hugged each other tightly. He looked somewhat better after his wedding night-perhaps Roslyn Frey's soft body had soothed his grief, just a little.
-I will not return alone, but with a great fleet. - Greyjoy promised.
-I know. - Robb smiled. He had warm feelings for Theon, even after he'd changed, and considered him a friend. One of the few.
They left Riverrun in the afternoon. A small column of five hundred lancers, led by Lord Jason Mallister on his brawny horse, wearing armour that had no fancy features-perhaps only the tip of his sword had a four-edged ruby.
Theon rode somewhere in the middle and was able to observe the nature of the Riverlands through which he was travelling.
They passed through the Whispering Woods, and he could see the centuries-old pines and oaks, and listen to the singing of the local birds that inhabited the region. Sometimes, at night, a wolf's howl could be heard. It strained the Mallisters' men, but the wolves were too wary to pounce on a huge group of men.
They came out onto the plain and skirted the mountainous terrain. It was there that Patrick Mallister first approached Theon. The young man had long wanted to speak to Greyjoy, but perhaps the frightening gaze of his father's grey-blue eyes scared him away.
- Lord Greyjoy,' Patrick began politely, smiling cheerfully. - 'Or should I call you "Shrewd Eye"?
- Theon is fine. - He still didn't like the nickname the Northerners had given him.
- I've always been interested in talking to the Ironborn. - Patrick continued, revealing the reason for his interest in him.
- 'Then you can talk to the entire heir to the Iron Islands.
''And exactly the heir? I don't know how my father will feel about me now after being away from him for ten years.'
-I heard you've already shed blood at a young age! - Patrick leaned forward slightly. - That's true, isn't it?
-That's right. - Memories of the past overwhelmed Theon, but he tried to push them aside. It's not the time. - I fought in the Battle of Bright Isle and survived by a miracle.
- It must have been a hot battle! I've heard the sailors still talk about it, especially the veterans of that war.
- The fact that they were discussing the event that had sealed Theon's fate didn't make him very happy. And Mallister had somehow realised it, or sensed it. He turned the topic to a flatter one - girls, wine and falconry, which he loved, as Greyjoy realised.
They talked every day, sometimes drinking. Stopping in some of the villages, Patrick suggested that Theon have some fun with the local peasant girls, but he had no desire to do so.
He liked Patrick as a fun-loving and reckless guy, something reminiscent of his older brother. It was ironic that it was Patrick's father who had sent Rodrik to the bottom of the sea, killing him.
He didn't feel any hatred or dislike for Lord Sigard, though he should have....
They were passing Ravenwood. Blackwood's domain boasted huge towers over the gates and sturdy walls whose stones were mossy and ancient. The castle was imposing.
They drove past without even saying hello to the local abodes in any way - Lord Mallister was in a hurry to get home.
They drove past and 'Old Stones', the ancient ruin of the once great fortress of the First Men. The very name of the fortress had long since been forgotten, and it had been given a new unassuming nickname.
The fortress was built by Tristopher Mudd, nicknamed the Hammer of Justice. Legend has it that he won ninety-nine battles out of a hundred when he fought the visiting Andals. The 100th was his last - Mudd was killed in the battle.
They travelled round the Witch Swamp, and finally reached the lands of Sigard. It was from here that Harvin the Hard Hand began his great conquest.
He defeated several large river armies and then, with the help of the river lords and the promise of freedom, he defeated the Storm King of Arrek.
The Durrandon's rule over Trident was thrown off, to be reoccupied by another banner. The banner of the Hoars.
A year later, the River Lords rebelled again, only against Harwin. The Hard Hand crushed the rebellion and plundered the lands of the main instigator, Lothar Bracken. The same lord who had supported Harwin in his time and stabbed the Blackwoods in the back as they fought against the Hoars.
The Hoars held the Trident for nearly a century, but their rule was ended by Aegon the Conqueror. He burned Harrenhal with all the members of the ruling house of the Iron Islands and put the Tullys in charge of the Riverlands. It was the Tullys who joined Aegon first, and King Targaryen did not forget that and rewarded it.
'We could have regained our greatness if it hadn't been for my father's foolishness. Had he waited eight years and then things would have been different.'
Patrick had apparently been forbidden to speak to Theon - the latter had begun to avoid him - and Greyjoy kept catching Lord Jason's glances. He tried to ignore them, though he was tempted to speak to this Mallister. But he didn't.
A week and a half into their journey, they reached Sigard. Situated on the shores of the Bay of Iron Men, it had been built to defend against Ironborn raids. The castle had strong, high, stone walls, rounded towers and a large garrison, which Lord Mallister wished to increase even further.
Nearby was a harbour town of considerable size for its time. The city was also surrounded by walls that, although smaller than the castle walls, still looked quite formidable. A tall tower towered over the city, the 'Sighard's Tower'. A huge bronze bell had been warning the townsfolk of an Ironborn attack since time immemorial.
He stayed in one of the inns, as he had enough money to last him a long time. Patrick invited him to stay at the castle, but Theon refused. He didn't want to be around Lord Sigarda, who disliked Greyjoy for being a member of the Iron Islands. And the fact that he is also a Greyjoy....
For a fortnight he had waited for a ship to arrive from Pyke - but as he came into port each day, all he saw was a multitude of merchant ships from different parts of the world. But, not one with black sails and a golden kraken.
'Father must have decided to let me get home on my own. 'Or maybe I'm just not welcome and that's a hint.'
He decided not to wait for the weather, but to join a ship sailing to Pike. He spent the day looking for one and finally found one. A schooner named Miriam returning to Old Town. He made a deal with the ship's captain, paying him a fee. He would take him to Pike.
The next day was the day they set sail. It was quite cold - the weather was changeable in Westeros. Greyjoy remembered when a white raven had flown into Riverrun a few weeks before they left, bringing news from the Citadel of the beginning of autumn.
'Winter is coming,' Lord Eddard had always said, and he had been right. But the truth had not saved him from the executioner's hands, and might even have spurred him on, if Stannis's letters about the queen and her children were to be believed.
'I wonder how the king could have overlooked such a thing? Is he so pathetic that bastards were quietly made under his nose that the queen passed off as his children?' - he remembered two different Baratheons-one in Pyke when he had defeated his father. Cheerful and in armour, he didn't have the fat he'd already acquired when he'd come to Winterfell.
The captain lent him his quarters and Greyjoy gladly took them. It was freezing and cold outside, so he preferred to be inside the schooner.
'I wish I had an interesting book in my hands and a glass of warm wine diluted with spices.'
The trough, proudly called a ship, sailed rather slowly. He had a lot to compare it to - he had already had quite a lot of experience sailing on ironborn rooks. They were faster, and they held a lot more people than this ship.
The captain's daughter glared at him, but Greyjoy ignored them. If he'd wanted to, she would have jumped into bed with him at the first hint. But he wasn't in the mood to do so, tormented by thoughts of how he would be received and what to do if he was already a stranger to his father.
'If the Iron Islands are no good for me, I'll sail to the Free Cities. I'm more and more attracted to this land.'
'The Miriam took five days to reach Pike - though they could have made it in two.
Pike appeared on the horizon, the house where he was born.
'Theon was born. I was inhabited like a demon from biblical mythology.'
The dark and gloomy castle seemed to have grown into this promontory and the islands, not yet crumpled into crumbs by the constant tidal waves of the sea. Once Pike Island was not like that - split into many small islands - rocks, but a large and united cape. But over the millennia, the water has chopped it to pieces. In centuries to come, the castle might collapse into the sea.
The captain turned the ship slightly to the side to make a detour through the castle standing on the island. The more daring captains of the Iron Islands would pass through the islets' component rocks, over stone bridges.
There was no place to anchor in Pyke - so they stopped at Lordport, a small town, though Greyjoy would have called it a hamlet. Stone houses with turf-covered roofs, a convenient harbour for trade and rook building, and Lord Botley's stone fortress towering above them all. The fortress stood on a hill, and Theon remembered in his time when Botley's fiefdom was still built of clay and logs.
'Perhaps King Robert and his army did Lord Botley a favour - he didn't have to tear down his fortress - it was all done for him. All that remains is to build a new one, better and stronger than the old one.'
Lordport had once had a sept built during the reign of his grandfather, Lord Quellon. But it was demolished at the siege of Pyke, and the Ironborn apparently refused to rebuild it. Only the foundations of a stone building remain. And you can see that the stones are slowly being taken from there for their own use.
They were met. A pair of ironborn, apparently of that rare breed that preferred to be merchants rather than raiders.
Theon jumped down onto the stone tiles of the harbour. He looked at the merchants, wary of him. They didn't recognise him - and how could they know the appearance of one of Baelon's sons. It had been a long time since he'd been to the Iron Islands, and they'd all forgotten what he looked like.
-My name is Theon Greyjoy. - he told them. Nearby, Cicero landed on his shoulder, digging in with his claws. He looked disparagingly at the two merchants and chirped:
- P-pike! J-iron O-islands!
- Prince Theon? - One of them asked.
-The Gunslinger? - Whispers rang out around them. Greyjoy frowned.
- That's my nephew. - came from beside them. A tall man in a homespun chiton stepped forward. Black hair falling down to his back, a scraggly beard with seaweed woven into it, and fiery black eyes staring at him with recognition.
- Uncle Aaron. - Theon said, looking round at his relative with surprise. - You've changed a lot since the last time we met.
- The Drowned God has given me wisdom, and I have decided to give up worldly things to serve him faithfully.
My father wrote something about it - that his uncle had been shipwrecked in the war and had changed. Greyjoy hadn't expected the jovial, jovial man he'd been before to become a devout priest of the Drowned One.
- I think we should go to the castle. - Theon said.
-'That's right,' said Aeron. They bought a pair of shaggy, small horses from Otter Chromonogov and set off. They left Lordport, and his uncle suddenly turned to go closer to the sea. Theon followed him.
- Bend over! - Greyjoy said imperiously as they dismounted by the wave-washed shore.
Greyjoy obeyed, knowing what would follow. Salt water poured over his head, sometimes getting into his mouth, nose, and even under his clothes.
-"May your servant Theon be reborn from the sea, as you have been reborn. - Eiron began to speak in a chant. - Bless him with salt, bless him with stone, bless him with steel.
- What is dead cannot die.
- What is dead cannot die. - Aaron repeated after Theon. - You have not forgotten the words and faith of your god, which is good. Baelon feared you were a tree-worshipper now, like those foolish Northmen.
They got back on their horses and continued on to Pike. They travelled most of the way in silence. When they reached the gates of Pyke, Aeron turned round on his horse and, as silently as before, left the company of his nephew.
The gates opened before him, and he passed into the castle. His arrival was already known from somewhere.
- Prince Theon. - The servants and soldiers addressed him, and Greyjoy could only stare at them in incomprehension. His father was no longer king, so why did everyone call him prince?
He walked through the stone bridges and the Great Castle to reach the Sea Tower, which was on the farthest edge of the promontory.
The castle castellan had put him in what had once been his private quarters. The walls were overgrown with moss and the room stank of damp. It had been a long time since the hearth had been lit.
He left his few belongings in the room and decided to speak to his father at once. The castellan had said his father was ill, but he was ready to receive Theon.
The vaulted ceilings were majestic, as were the walls. Some areas have sprouted moss or other vegetation. The castle's landscaping hadn't been looked after for a long time - that much was obvious.
He walked down a few corridors and stopped near a door with a carved kraken painted yellow. Given that the door was made of dark wood, it was the crest of the Greyjoy family.
He entered his father's private chambers with a knock.
'Gloomy atmosphere,' the thought drifted through his mind.
His father was lying on a double bed, pale and coughing constantly. He looked up at Theon with slightly cloudy eyes and gaped:
-My son. Come closer, I will take a look at you.
Theon stepped quietly on the stone tiles and came closer, just as his lord father had instructed.
His hazily whitish eyes stared at him, trying to see something. And Lord Baelon was satisfied, judging by the lack of comment or any strong emotion on his face.
- I don't see you wearing any of the jewellery that greenbloods like to wear. - the old Kraken informed him. After these words he coughed. - It's good to see that you haven't become their likeness. At least in appearance...
-Kha... kha! Damn Robert Baratheon and Eddard Stark for taking my son from me. - Baelon whispered softly, but Theon heard him.
- Father. - Greyjoy began to speak. - Robb Stark let me go home, no longer treating me as a hostage, but as his brother, not in blood but in spirit...
- You're inbred with the wolves? - his father interrupted him with a sneer. - What did your jailers do to you that you consider one of them a brother?
- We shed the blood of common enemies,' the son replied. - Lannister blood. My arrow fell Jaime the Kingslayer.
-I've heard, I've heard. I don't think the Old Lion will be happy about that. - Baelon smiled in defiance.
-I brought a letter. - Theon continued. - From Robb Stark, King of the North and the Trident.
-Give it to me. - Father held out his hand. Theon pulled a piece of parchment, sealed under a leather duplicate, and placed it on the old man's open palm.
'Father is quite ill. A year or two.'
The Lord of the Iron Islands took a long look at the text, laughing where he laughed, frowning where he frowned. But he was not indifferent.
- Teen Wolf amused me with his words. - Pushing the letter aside, the elder Greyjoy said. - Take what is mine by right? The eternal friendship between the North and the Isles? - he snorted.
The warm woollen blanket with the colours of House Greyjoy fell away, and Baelon slowly rose from the bed. With a shuffling gait, he walked over to one of the tables. There was another letter on the coloured lacquered table, which he paid no attention to.
There were no windows in the chamber, and it was in semi-darkness, lit only by the burning hearth of the castle.
His father stepped closer to it, and in the glow of the light Theon saw the seal on the open letter.
A golden lion stood up.
-A better offer has come to me.
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