Chapter 245: It stinks!

The blazing midday sun beat down on the scorched remnants of ships scattered across Blackwater Bay. Wisps of black smoke and gray ash rose from funeral pyres, hanging heavily in the stifling air.

Inside Winterfell's great hall, Theon Greyjoy spoke with utter conviction. "It's true! Torrhen's Square is completely surrounded by Ironborn! Ser Rodrik tried to break through, but it was an ambush. We lost many men—he sent me back to ask for reinforcements."

Ser Lambert stood nearby, expressionless. "Lord Robb will be here shortly. Wait here."

With that, he left the hall, and Theon tried to calm his racing heart, settling into a nearby seat.

A figure sat across from him, cloaked in ragged gray sheepskin, hair hanging in a tangled mess that obscured most of his face, and giving off a foul, indescribable odor. Theon couldn't fathom how such a person had managed to enter the great hall.

"Hey," the man suddenly spoke. "They call me Reek."

Fitting, Theon thought, refusing to acknowledge him.

"I'm talking to you, Lord Theon," Reek continued insistently. "Your scheme is too crude."

A jolt of fear shot through Theon as he heard these words. His pulse raced as panic gripped him; his scheme was laid bare before this filthy stranger.

Turning to look at Reek, he saw nothing but a pair of blood-red eyes glaring out from under that tangled hair.

"What scheme?" Theon tried to maintain his composure. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Reek laughed lowly, leaning in close and whispering, "Your plan to deceive Winterfell's garrison with a false report about Torrhen's Square, so you can open the gates and let the Ironborn take Winterfell. That scheme."

Theon's face went pale, his pulse throbbing with fear. He glanced nervously toward the hall entrance, relieved to see that the guards were out of earshot.

"Don't spout nonsense!" he protested. "Torrhen's Square is in real danger. I grew up here—I would never betray Winterfell!"

Reek clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "Oh, Theon. Do you think the Starks will ever truly believe you? Yes, they raised you, but you're still a Greyjoy, a kraken, not a wolf."

Grinding his teeth, Theon growled, "Who are you, and why are you here?"

"Doesn't matter who I am. What matters is that your clumsy plan will never work. You'll never take Winterfell this way."

"I told you, I have no such intentions!"

"Fine, fine," Reek replied with a mocking smile, leaning even closer until Theon could barely stand the stench. "Do you realize what will happen if you tell Robb Stark that story?"

Theon hesitated, unable to resist asking, "What would happen?"

"Robb will believe you, march off to aid Torrhen's Square, and you'll laugh to yourself, thinking the Starks have fallen into your trap. But the moment you sneak off to open the gate—bam!" Reek slammed his hand down, making Theon jump. "The Northmen catch you red-handed."

Theon clenched his jaw, swallowing his rising anxiety. "I wouldn't do that."

"If you do," Reek said, dropping his voice, "and they catch on, they'll arrest you and interrogate you. Then you tell them the Ironborn's real targets are Winterfell and Moat Cailin."

"Moat Cailin?"

"Yes. The North's critical point of defense, connecting it to the south. Even a small force can hold it against thousands; it's a real strategic asset."

"I know what Moat Cailin is," Theon replied indignantly.

"Then you'll understand that Torrhen's Square is insignificant by comparison. The Starks might ignore Torrhen's Square, but they won't overlook Moat Cailin. If the Ironborn were to take it, Robb's army to the south would be cut off. Once you 'reveal' the Ironborn's intention, Winterfell will have no choice but to send troops to defend it. They'll be convinced of it, especially after catching you in the act. With you captured, no one will be around to open the gates, so they'll believe Winterfell is safe again."

Theon frowned, asking, "But if I'm captured, who would open the gates for them?"

Realization dawned on him. "You?"

Reek smiled. "Not as foolish as you look. Yes, after you've lured away Winterfell's troops, I'll open the gates. Just tell me how you plan to signal the Ironborn outside."

Theon hesitated but eventually replied, "I arranged to set a fire at the northeastern corner of the castle. When they see the flames, they'll approach the north gate."

"Good," Reek nodded. "I'll remember that."

Theon stared at him, unable to shake his unease. "Who are you, really?"

"You'll find out once Winterfell falls," Reek replied, amused. "But you don't need to trust me. Just remember that when you're in over your head, someone gave you an escape."

Theon fell silent, uneasy yet intrigued.

After several minutes, Robb Stark finally arrived, entering the hall with an air of weariness.

"Theon, why have you returned?"

Theon hesitated, then steeled himself. "We were ambushed by Ironborn near Torrhen's Square. They outnumbered us—many were killed. Ser Rodrik sent me back to request reinforcements."

"Understood." Robb's expression remained impassive.

Watching Robb's face, Theon searched for any hint of suspicion, but found none. Reluctantly, he said, "I'll go rest, then. I haven't slept much these past few days on the road."

Robb nodded.

Whether it was his imagination or not, Theon felt a chill in his friend's demeanor, a distance that hadn't been there before.

He glanced back at Reek, then forced down his worry and left the hall.

Once Theon was gone, Robb turned to Reek. "You're Lord Ramsay's squire?"

"Yes, my lord," Reek replied respectfully. "You may call me Reek."

Robb discreetly rubbed his nose and took a seat as far from Reek as he could. "Why did Ramsay send you?"

"To bring news, my lord. Lady Donella Hornwood has gone missing."

"Lady Hornwood?" Robb's expression grew concerned.

Lady Donella was the widow of the late Lord Hornwood, who, along with his son, had perished in the recent battles with Dorne. She had suddenly become a highly sought-after prize, as many suitors eyed the Hornwood lands she could bring.

Reek explained, "She disappeared on her way back from a feast. The incident occurred near the Bolton lands, and Lord Manderly suspects we're responsible. He's threatened to march on the Dreadfort if we don't return her."

Robb knew that Lady Donella was also Lord Wyman Manderly's cousin, and whether Manderly's concern was genuine or a ploy to claim the Hornwood lands for himself, the situation could easily lead to civil unrest.

"Thank you," Robb replied thoughtfully. "I'll send someone to mediate and investigate Lady Hornwood's disappearance."

"I'll convey your thanks to Lord Ramsay," Reek said, bowing before taking his leave.

Robb sat alone in the empty hall, lost in thought, before he eventually went to find his mother, Lady Catelyn Stark, to tell her of Theon's message.

"Do you think he's lying?" Lady Stark asked, her voice sharp.

Robb's face tightened. "I… I don't know."

"You do know," she retorted. "You simply don't want to admit it. You know Ser Rodrik would never send Theon back for aid. This must be a trap."

Robb's eyes reddened. "I grew up with him; I trusted him like a brother…"

"But he isn't your brother," she replied coldly.

Robb stood silent, torn.

"What if we're wrong about him?" he finally asked.

"Then we'll test him," she replied. "Muster the men and pretend to march south to aid Torrhen's Square, but don't go far. I want to see what Theon does next."

"Understood…" Robb replied, though his heart was heavy with doubt.

(End of Chapter)