章節 146: Doubts and Faith

Feeling the cold wind brush against his skin, Jon closed his eyes, letting the cool fresh air of the morning wash over him. It had been snowing over the course of the night and from the feeling in the air, it was set to do so again. The short break in the skies, clouds absent as the sun shone down upon them just that, a short break.

A temporary reprieve.

Luckily for them, their group was small making their movements through the harsh terrain of the North speedy, each of their members calling this land their home. The army they were following and closing on could not say the same, their march leaving deep imprints in the snow that had yet to entirely be swept away, each step short and forceful.

The men of the south were unused to such weather and one could tell from the tracks they left. They were forcing themselves to move, all wishing to return home but no doubt forced to keep marching in pursuit of their lord's desires for glory and a chance to earn the favour of the King.

Turning on his heels, Jon moved his cloak to one side, as he made his way towards the small assortment of tents that had made their temporary camp. His loyal Direwolf, Ghost followed behind, almost blending into their snowy surroundings, but Jon could feel him by his side. The warmth his body exuded served to heat him up in the cold weather.

Parting the flap of the centre tent, Jon entered to find Robb dressed and ready to move, sitting upon his bed of furs as he read the letter in his hands. "Anything of note?" Jon wondered, having seen the messenger bird arrive earlier, but the letter had been quickly taken by Olyvar Frey and delivered to Robb directly.

"News of the south." Robb answered, folding it up as he rose to his feet, Grey Wind copying his owner's movements.

Jon could see the look in Robb's eyes and knew there was more to it than just that, but like always Robb kept things close to his chest. Even as a child, Robb had kept some secrets, but never like this and it was another reminder of how the war had changed them all.

Yet Jon was also reminded of what had happened in the Crypts, the strangeness of Robb's actions upon touching that strange crown found in the prison. It was a mystery and one that Robb seemed to have some vague understanding of, but one that Jon was left completely in the dark about.

However, for whatever reason, despite having always moved with a sense of purpose, something about Robb was different. There was even more surety in his actions, a decisiveness that was always present yet...amplified. But also an urgency to his actions, his gaze and mind focused on things beyond his conflict with Stannis.

Whereas before his focus had been upon the Burning Stag and then later, the conflict of his wives, Robb's mind seemed preoccupied with something further beyond that. Jon couldn't tell why, but he could hear it in his words, the way he seemed to be focused less and less on his current objective and focusing more on the future.

Jon would not deny that he was worried about what impact this could have.

Even though he had no doubts that they would prevail over Stannis, that did not mean they could go into this engagement distracted. If they did, they would be left exposed and Stannis would capitalise upon that without hesitation.

"What's happened?" Jon asked, hoping to probe Robb's closed mind and maybe offer some advice.

"Nothing extreme." Robb replied as they exited out into the cold outdoors, Olyvar having already gathered the horses as other members of Robb's personal guard were mounted and ready to move. "The Tyrells have simply suggested the idea of turning the Iron Islands into the trading hub of the western shoreline."

"A ploy to weaken the Riverlands." It was an obvious ploy, but one that was expected considering the powerhouse that the Riverlands was becoming. "But also a mean to expand their own power."

Robb nodded his head.

The Tyrells had, to no one's surprise, contributed a great deal to his campaign against all his enemies. Naturally, their reward would be large and they would expect influence, it was the only thing a house like the Tyrells would desire. They had wealth, and they had power, but one thing the Lannisters and Baratheons had robbed them of was influence.

Having control of the Iron Islands after its reformation would give them that influence.

"You have to be wary, Robb," Jon said the two mounted their horses for another day's journey to catch up to the main army led by Randyll Tarly. "Give the Tyrells too much power and they will try and get rid of you."

It was an unnecessary statement, Jon knew Robb was already aware of that fact, but he felt the need to say it anyway. Robb was his brother and their family had lost too much already, losing anything else would be too much for them to bare.

"I know." Robb answered.

There was a confidence in his words, one that said he had a plan, the one that left no room for doubt or question. But though relieving, Jon's eyes flickered to the crown that peeked out from the sachel on the back of Robb's horse.

It was the same crown that had been within the crypts, the ones that caused the strangeness in Robb lately. He didn't like the grip it seemed to hold upon his brother, a man who had quite clearly grown used to relying on no one but himself. Yet now seemed to keep the crown upon him at all times, it was no different to the way in which he seemed to pray to the Old Gods more frequently than Jon ever having remembered him to do so.

Jon would not question Robb's devotion to the Old Gods, he had seen the horrors of war himself and had also heard the tales of his brother's battles in the south. To not understand why someone would turn to religion, believing that it was some divine being that protected them only made sense.

However, the crown was different and that didn't even begin to touch upon the strange feeling that surrounded it.

-X-

"The Last Hearth has fallen." Ser Rolland Storm uttered, Stannis tapping his finger rhythmically against the table as he looked at the Knight before him. "Breakstone Hill has come under siege and should fall in a few days' time. Karhold remains untouched, but it is likely that Randyll Tarly will dispatch soldiers from the main force to take it while Lord Karstark is dealing with the Boltons stationed at the Dreadfort."

They were being entrapped, Stannis' frown deepening ever so slightly, an unnoticeable shift from his usual countenance, but he was displeased by the news. Things were moving too quickly, the Stark forces approaching sooner than expected and closing in upon them.

Soon there would be no escape except through battle and they were not in a position to resist a siege. The walls were still being strengthened, hardly capable of withstanding a full siege. To be able to secure the Wall as he planned, he would need more time.

"How did the Last Hearth fall so quickly?" Ser Davos, recently returned from his garrison wondered. "Though the defenders were few, it should have taken more than a day to take it even with a force that size, lest they wished to incur uncessary losses."

"From the reports of a survivor," Rolland began. "It seems that a vanguard force of a few thousand led by Lord Umber moved ahead of the main force. He set the bare bones of a siege and personally led the charge up the walls. The losses on their part were large, Lord Umber personally injured, but they were overwhelming."

"The Mad Giant." Another man muttered, the moniker of the new Lord Umber well known throughout the lands. He was in many ways, reaching a level of prestige greater than his fathers and with a reputation that may someday rival that of the Mountains.

A man of that calibre serving the Wolf King with absolute loyalty was a scary thought to imagine. They were lucky then that he was injured, though if he was anything like his father, it would not be enough to keep him down for long.

"We have to hope the Boltons prove more of a challenge to Lord Karstark, enough so that Robb Stark dispatches men to aid him." It was a common consensus that to give them time, everything relied upon the Boltons now. "If that happens, then Robb's main force will be even smaller in size, enough that we might be able to capitalise upon this."

"Doubtful." Stannis stated. "But do not worry, our hands do not rest in the Boltons, but instead, they lay in the hands of R'hllor."

Here, many looked from Stannis to the Red Woman herself, Melisandra who smiled that mysterious smile she always gave. "I have seen it in the flames. Robb Stark shall soon perish in the shadows of night. This war will be won by the Azor Ahai."