Chapter 37: Haunting, Somewhere In Time

9th Month of 298 A.C. Wendish Town

King Aegon VI Targaryen

Aegon had been having the same dream for almost two weeks now, and it was beginning to drive him mad. A burning pyre, the iciness of winter, and a voice, a voiced that called to him from the darkness, demanding he make a choice. What that choice was he was not sure, but there was always a girl there as well, and she would beckon to him, asking him to take her hand and to take her from the darkness, but he was not sure who she was, or even where she was. No matter how often he tried to take her hand, it would not succeed, and there were times where he would wake up and feel the sweat dripping down his brow, and feel as if there was someone there in the room with him. The dream was getting more and more vivid as time went on, and he was convinced something was going to happen, though after what had happened with Arya, he was not so willing to share such thoughts with Robb. His cousin seemed more withdrawn as of late, rarely emerging from his room at the inn they were staying at, unless it was for war councils, where he always contributed. Indeed, it had been at Robb's suggestion that they had come to Wendish town. Better to hem in the Lannisters than to allow them to gain the advantage.

The plan was simple, Robb had gone out with Lords Karstark and Mormont to draw what host there was of Lannister men outside, toward the town, where archers from the southern Riverlands would then fire onto them, allowing for a chance to engage in some form of combat, before the firing would stop and the true fighting would begin. Robb had already gone out, taking a small portion of their host with him, and as he had ridden out, Aegon had gotten the sense that his cousin was relishing this chance of freedom, the past few weeks had been stifling for them all. And of course, Robb had a child on the way, Aegon could not forget that, his cousin was going to be a father, that was something, something he still did not know what to make of, whenever he thought of that, his thoughts drifted to Sansa safely in Harrenhal, and he wondered whether she would accept his suit or not, there was much and more they needed to discuss when this was done and they were reunited, but for now there was the fighting. Aegon was stood on the battlements, Ser Arthur two steps behind, and he watched as Robb's host faded further and further into the distance, his nerves were beginning to tingle a little as he watched his cousin disappearing.

As if sensing his apprehension Ser Arthur speaks then, his tone low and reassuring. "I am sure Lord Robb will be fine Your Grace. He knows the plan well, and helped devise it, he will not stray from it. I am sure."

Aegon dearly wished he could share in his protector's faith in his cousin, but there was something in Robb's eyes, a mad sort of look in his eyes that made Aegon wonder what sort of state his cousin was at mentally. "I do not know. I would hope so, but there is something within him, that is troubling him. I am not sure what it is, but it is there."

"I am sure whatever it is, it is not that serious Your Grace. Lord Robb is a good man, and he knows his duty." Ser Arthur responds.

Aegon snorts then. "Is that what it has come to then? My cousin and brother in all but blood, fighting for me, not for love, but for duty? What sort of burden is the crown that it would do this?"

Ser Arthur is silent a moment, and Aegon already finds himself regretting that outburst, he knows that the knight has been there for him always in the shadows, but always there, and he does not want the man to think less of him, but still, the doubts are there. "It is normal for things to change when a man becomes King Your Grace. Family ties must give way to duty between a subject and his King."

A sudden urge to talk about his father, not Brandon Stark, but his actual father overtakes him then. "Was that the case between you and my father, Ser?"

He hates how childish he sounds, he is a King and he is a commander of men, but he still needs to know, he finds, for some reason that he cannot quite justify to himself, he needs to know. Ser Arthur does not reply for a moment and then. "Yes, Prince Rhaegar was a man who knew his duty, and expected everyone around him to know theirs as well."

He is not sure what makes him say the next few words, but nonetheless he says them. "So what made him take my mother? She was betrothed already, what made him take her?"

He can feel the hesitance in Ser Arthur, even if it does not show in the man's voice. "He took your mother for love, for duty, he was a prince, and a prince is supposed to protect all, young, old, rich or poor. Your mother asked him for help and so he obliged."

Aegon thinks over this for a moment, but before he can formulate a response, he hears a horn being sounded, and he knows what that means. "Archers, be ready, they are coming." He bellows. "Ser Arthur, have the men below prepared we shall soon have action."

The Knight nods. "Of course Your Grace, but I shall return once that is done."

Aegon merely nods, and watches as the man disappears down the stairs, he hears him bellowing commands, and then the man is there back at his side. Aegon watches as Robb's banner, the direwolf of House Stark comes bounding into sight. "Raise the gates!" Aegon bellows. His heart hammers in his chest as he sees Robb bounding toward the slowly rising gates, Greywind at his side, he breathes easier when he sees his cousin ride through the opening, he waits and watches then as the rest of the host comes through the gate. "How many?" he calls out looking down to where his cousin is.

"I think around eight thousand Your Grace. One division." Robb responds.

Eight thousand men, Lord Tywin must be messing with us. Aegon thinks to himself, aloud he asks. "Did you see Lord Tywin?"

"No Your Grace. But there are separate divisions somewhere out there. I am sure he is with one of them." Robb responds.

Aegon nods. "Very well, take some rest, we shall need you fighting fit my lord." His cousin nods and disappears from sight. Aegon stands where he is for a moment longer, drinking in the cool air, his armour is beginning to weigh heavily on him. But he needs to be out here, his men need to see him, he will not hide behind walls, not if it comes down to it.

A voice takes him from his musings. "They are nearly here Your Grace." Ser Lyman says.

"Very well, archers, knock." He calls out, he watches as the lion of Lannister comes closer, and closer, and closer. "Draw." A little closer and they can unleash hell. "Engage." The arrows go whizzing through the air, and Aegon hears the cries of men as the arrows hit their targets, he smiles. "Again." he calls out.

The arrows whizzing forward hitting more and more men sounds like music to his ears, he does not know why it sounds so nice to him, but it does, the more arrows that are released the more Lannister men that are dying, the fewer traitors that live in his lands. Soon it shall be done, and dusted, though he hopes that he will get the chance to fight and kill at least one or two of the bastards first. The arrows continue to fire, and Aegon remains standing where he is, a solid presence amongst the men, his heart is relaxing slightly, but then he sees Robb standing there, a worried look on his face, wondering what might've caused that, he walks toward his cousin. His cousin looks tired, but thankfully, there are no signs of injury on his person. "What is it?" he asks.

Robb looks around, his hair a mess from where his helm was, and then he responds softly. "We lost a great deal of men leading the Lannister men on a chase Your Grace. Lord Rickard Karstark died fighting one of the men, or rather three of them. Lord Jorah is desperately injured now, and needs attention right away."

"Well get the maesters on it, we have enough men." Aegon responds.

"Not near enough to see to the wounded within the party I took out Your Grace. We managed to kill a fair few Lannisters, but they wounded a fair few of ours as well." Robb responds, his voice hardening.

Before he can respond, Ser Lyman comes rushing down to them and says. "We are nearing the end of our lot here Your Grace, what do you wish to do?"

A booming sound against the gates of the town gives Aegon his answer. "Keep firing. Robb, I know you are tired, but we must prepare to fight once more."

His cousin says nothing, and merely nods his head once before turning back down the stairs towards the men and the horses. Aegon watches him go, a strange feeling in his stomach, Rickard Karstark dead? A valuable ally gone, and more potential power for the Boltons, not something that should be encouraged he thinks, especially with Domeric here, the man had been acting somewhat more normal as of late, but still he could not forget the oddness that had come before. Shaking his head, he walks down the stairs, Ghost and his dragons accompanying him, and then takes his helm from his squire-a gift from Walder Frey- the dragon wings on the helm still seem odd to him, but he will not deny his heritage, not after searching for it for so long. He puts on his helm, and feels the familiar constricting feeling of it, but that is irrelevant now, for just as he begins getting used to it, the gates fly open. Lannister men, bloodied and wounded and all on foot come staggering in. Drawing Blackfyre, Aegon bellows. "Men of the north, Men of the Riverlands, our foe has come to die. Let us not disappoint them."

A roar answers his cry, and Aegon finds men coming to attack the enemy, just as he too does so, Blackfyre usually so heavy in his hands, feels light now, and he provides a quick clean kill to a man who cannot be older than he is. He dances around the man's corpse and continues on his path, swinging his sword, and cutting through the throng of bodies and mess that soon envelops the entrance to the town. The plan is not to let the lions any further into the town than the entrance and the first two streets, and as he cuts his way through men, Ghost at his side, the dragons raining down fire and ice on the enemy as they come, he thinks that they might just achieve that. Men come forward, he swings and cuts, parrying one blow here, a blow there, he brings up Blackfyre and head butts someone, sending them spinning backward, before another man spears them in the chest. Ser Arthur is behind him, Dawn glimmering in the sunlight, a spark in the sunshine. They move forward, determined to find the commander of this host, to send a message.

More men are spilling through the entrance, but they look more like corpses than men, a terrifying thought considering some of his visions, still, these men fall all the same and they do not get up, unlike some of the things in his dreams. The archers are clearly doing a very good job, and Aegon feels happy at that. His sword is crying out for more blood and he happily obliges, swinging his sword, cutting men down as if for fun, it is something that makes his blood sing, and as such, he himself feels like singing. The Lannister men look terrified at the sight of him, or more likely his dragons, the three of them, are growing bigger and stronger, hailing fire and ice down on the enemy as they come before him. Ghost at his side tearing through men three at a time. He hears a sound, a whimper, and then men are fleeing from him. He roars a victory cry, as more and more men begin disappearing, crushing themselves against one another in their bid to flee. "Kill them, kill them all." He roars, his blood flowing freely now. The chaos that comes will be something he will remember for the rest of his life, men pushing against one another, desperate to escape, but not quite getting there. Men turned to ice, and burned to ash, as his dragons get to work, eventually, the fighting stops, but by then many men are dead. As his men begin to yell their victory cries, he gets another vision, and this time he sees a boy lying there, staring without seeing, a river of blood before him, and the vision scares him, for their mark is there.