Chapter 11

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***

- Breathe easy, bastard. - Theon said, cutting a block of wood with his knife. - Or you'll miss again.

- I'm breathing as steady as I can. - Snow hissed and fired an arrow. It hit the edge of the round wooden target.

- Well, that's a little better. - Snow said something unkind to the insolent ironborn. But quietly, so that he wouldn't hear, or else John was in danger of getting a couple of nasty bruises in another sparring session.

Gradually a certain small figure began to emerge from the bar, but it was not yet clear who it was.

At the moment, the courtyard was not crowded. Lord Stark, bringing with him his heir and fifty guardsmen, had travelled towards White Harbour, to the local harvest festival at Manderly's invitation. Lady Stark, having given birth to a baby girl a year ago, named Arya, was again in labour and at the moment was permanently in the castle under the maester's care.

Jon was alone, so Greyjoy kept him company, helping him learn archery.

Snow took another arrow and took aim. Missed again.

- M-m-mazing! You crooked-armed d-d-dumb-ass! - screamed the parrot. Snow flushed a little and glared at the insolent bird.

- Damn bird. - Snow said in a louder voice. - Where did you get it from?!

- Where I got it, it's gone. - Theon grinned as he continued to carve the wooden figure. The proportions were correct and more and more of the small details began to show on the figure to tell more accurately who was depicted.

Theon didn't have much to do, he was mostly training and hanging out in Winterfell's library.

When he saw the long rows of bookcases, he was lost. He didn't leave the abode of knowledge for weeks, until Lord Stark came for him personally. He had to accept the fact that he would have to limit his reading time, devoting more time to other areas.

After going to a few classes with the Maester, he suddenly realised that he knew a lot - at least he answered all of Luwin's questions flawlessly. The Maester of Winterfell shook his head, and asked him to come to him sometimes for joint lessons with Robb and Jon. Why, exactly, jointly with Robb and Jon, he never realised. Most likely an attempt by Winterfell's master to bring the heir to the Iron Islands closer to his children.

Seeing Snow's pout, Theon decided to answer:

- The Summer Isles. Mmm... bought it from an acquaintance.

- The Summer Isles? - Snow asked. - That's in the south, isn't it?

- South of Westeros and Essos,' Theon corrected Jon. - An archipelago of many islands.

- And you've been to them, haven't you?

- Yes, I have. I went on a sea voyage with my uncle. - the parrot flapped its wings a few times and barked:

- D-l-long-tooth! The L-shit L-l-o-man-eater!

- Ah... like...' Snow hesitated, but with a stubborn glare, continued. - Ah, how do the Iron Islands treat bastards?

Theon lowered his knife hand, staring at Snow in surprise. He lowered his eyes to the ground, embarrassed.

- Why the questions, bastard? Do you want to go to the Iron Islands and become a raider? - Theon himself was amused by this description of the situation, not like John. He even smiled for a moment, giving in to the frown on his face. - If you so wish to know, it's up to the lords themselves. Some are drowned at birth, some are raised among their legitimate sons. And some leave them to their fate. But...

Theon didn't have time to finish. Ser Rodrik came into the courtyard and spotted them:

-"Well, Theon and John, don't get too comfortable. Come on, get your swords and practise a little.

Theon smiled at Jon, who looked at him, and handed him the figure. It showed a warrior holding a round shield in one hand and an axe in the other. The warrior looked something like the Ironborn, but the Universalist was not inspired by the islanders, but by warriors of the far north.

They don't exist in this era or in this world at all, and never have. But if they existed they would be a problem for Westeros far more dangerous than the Iron Islands and their restless inhabitants.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''"'

- Maester Luwin. - Theon addressed a bald old man with a grey beard and grey robes. - I have a couple of questions for you.

Llewyn looked confused - at the moment he was giving lessons to Lord Stark's eldest sons and Theon's sudden visit had interrupted their lesson. Robb and Jon, who had previously sat in their chairs listening to the maester with boredom, turned back to stare at Greyjoy with interest.

- If the questions don't require long answers, then I'll answer. - Hiding his hands in his sleeves, the scholar waited expectantly for the questions. The first question took him by surprise.

- Tell me, Maester Luwin, are the rumours that the dragons were destroyed on purpose true?

He was silent for a second, two seconds, five. When several lingering tens of seconds passed in the oppressive silence, Luwin answered:

-I cannot give an exact answer, for rumours are unconfirmed words. But I will say that dragons were a frightening force, giving the Targaryens many opportunities... and with their disappearance, the dragon dynasty lost much of its power, becoming first among equals, but not above all. - It was a hint, and Theon understood it.

Clever boy, Luwin thought. But such strange questions... why did it occur to him that dragons were deliberately destroyed? Such creatures are very hard to kill....

Of course, when he was a schoolboy, Luwin had also heard such things - but after paying attention to it, he rather realised that the Targaryens had deprived themselves of power by putting dragons on chains, restricting them and thus seriously degrading them. Let the boy draw his own conclusions.

- Thank you, Maester Luwin. That's an exhaustive enough answer. - Greyjoy replied ironically, and Luwin almost smiled. I see. And he drew his own conclusions from it. What the maester was certain about Lord Stark's ward was that he had a great mind and a great ability to analyse.

Too fond of books, but not foolishly reading into the text, but reading between the lines. The Iron Islands might have a skilful High Lord who would prove himself. He had no doubt about that, such a capable young man would not remain in a secondary role.

- Second question. - The Maester reminded him.

- How would the Northmen feel if I made a bow out of heartwood?

Well, that's much easier. As far as Maester was able to understand the Northmen's temperament and culture, there was nothing wrong with that.

- You don't have to worry, the northerners will be fine with it, Lord Theon. - Luwin glanced at his students - they were listening to them, silent, saying nothing. Robb stared at Theon unfriendly.

The Winterfell maester had not noticed his unusual pet beside Theon, who usually always followed Greyjoy. Many stared in wonder at the parrot, as Theon called it, and flinched when they first heard the words come out of his mouth.

Not that it was unusual for Luwin - he knew that some particularly intelligent crows could talk, too. True, Lord Stark's ward's pet was much smarter than crows.

The Citadel scholar had an idea.

- Theon, would you like to stay? - he asked Greyjoy. He stared at the Maester doubtfully. - I think you should refresh your knowledge. We're just learning the history of the North.

- What Age?

- The pre-Andalus invasion.

- Good. - He agreed. He closed the door behind him and took one of the chairs in the corner and moved it closer to the maester, sitting down next to the bastard. - What's this about?

Luwin shifted his gaze of grey eyes to his charges. - 'I think Lord Robb and Jon remember what we were talking about ten minutes ago.

Stark looked bored, clearly not listening to Luwin's lecture, and Snow looked at him uncertainly.

Sighing, the scholar spoke up:

-The Winter Kings' conquests in the North.

-Oh, that's an interesting topic. The thousand-year war between Winterfell and the Barrows, or the struggle between the Red Kings of Dreadfort and the Winter Kings for supremacy in the North? - Theon listed the famous moments of the Unification of the North, but Luwin shook his head negatively.

- No, Theon, we're talking about King John Stark and his fight against the pirates of the Three Sisters.

- Hm, he was famous only for driving the pirates off the White Knife and building the Wolf's Lair at its mouth. - Greyjoy shrugged. - There are more famous Winter Kings who have done much more.

-Surely. - Luwin agreed. - But Jon Stark has contributed enough to uniting the north under the direwolf's banner to be honoured and remembered. - Robb smiled proudly at the Maester's last words.

- Let us forget it. - Theon waved his hand. - Why don't you tell us about the Hungry Wolf's wars? It was under him that the North was finally united.

- Maester Luwin. - the heir to Winterfell suddenly spoke up. - Tell me about Theon Stark, please! - he asked. Snow, sitting beside him, nodded in agreement.

With a sigh, Luwin began to talk about the Hungry Wolf's conquests-the march to Andalos, the conquest of the Boltons before Theon Stark, and the wars with the Ironborn over Cape Kraken and the Stone Shores. About how the Hungry Wolf won in a duel with Hoar and, by killing him, took Bear Island from the islanders.

The Maester's fears had been in vain, Theon had not reacted in any way - he was indifferent to the failures of his ancestors.

The young Stark stopped frowning at Greyjoy and became more absorbed in the Maester's story. Hearing about Theon Stark's Winter King was far more interesting than hearing about his other ancestors.

After an hour, the Maester finished the lesson and dismissed his charges. Greyjoy cast him a smiling glance and disappeared out the door.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''"'

Sometimes Eddard felt sadness as he watched the children having fun - so they reminded him of the past days when the still young Lord Stark had played with his brothers and sister. Even some of the games were similar.

But the sadness was invariably gone, leaving a warmth - he had acquired a new pack that replaced the old one.

Stark was no longer old - he had fought in several wars, acquired a large family and found a family home. He had considerable experience, and had always stuck to his noble principles. He was Lord of Winterfell and Guardian of the North.

All the things his older brother should have had, not him, the second son of Rickard Stark.

Resting his hands on the railing, Stark watched his sons try to defeat an opponent who was invincible to them. Theon Greyjoy, with a certain laziness, fended off blows and occasionally threw his own. Always with precision and accuracy. But not to knock him out of action, just to give him a nasty jab.

You could say it wasn't very smart to put a superior opponent against two inept boys. But seeing that his sons were training more diligently, Eddard did not interfere. Ser Rodrik knows what he's doing.

Suddenly the Lord of Winterfell felt the wind blow, and a moment later Theon's pet landed on the railing beside him. He looked round at Stark with his fancy head and turned to look at him.

- W-z-winter! B-it's coming!

Grinning, Stark shooed away the insolent bird, which wanted to get its clawed paws on his hands. The parrot recoiled, but immediately regained its balance. It stood for a few seconds, and then blew its wings at Stark, making him cringe, and flew closer to its master.

Glancing at his hand, Stark felt uncomfortable.

- Old Gods, how grumpy and vindictive this bird is. - Stark muttered quietly, wiping his hand on the wooden railing and then on his trousers. No one noticed the misfortune that had befallen their lord, so all of Eddard's actions were done without attention from the others.