chapter 20

Bran walked beside his horse, hands firmly on the reins. It didn't seem necessary, as despite the sounds and violence, his steed seemed almost placid. His ser was leading them at a quick pace. Tyrek looked pale and fearful, constantly looking over his shoulder. Duty was not with them at the moment; he was still hunting the hunters. Bran knew he was still out there; he couldn't articulate why, but he knew.

As they crossed through the woods, Barristan explained what would happen next.

"There's no time to create a false trail or hide our passage; speed is our ally here. We will exit the deep wood and head south-east toward the Wendwater." Bran's curiosity was piqued. "The Wendwater? What is that?" he inquired. It turned out to be a river that fed into the Blackwater Bay.

"I suspect they will have more hunters waiting well before then, but once you clear the dense forest, you can gallop. When the hunters move to intercept, I will do my best to delay them and help you through. You two are lighter and can push your horses faster than full-sized men. Once past the encirclement, all you need to do is stay ahead. If they have remounts, it will prove ill, – yet, it is the best we can hope for."

Tyrek sounded panicked as he responded, "But where do we go? How will we find our way out of the woods?"

"Calm yourself, squire. When dusk sets in, head west and walk your horse through the night. Do not dare stop for longer than needed to keep them alive. By dawn, ride for as long as the horses can carry you, and you should be near Fawnton sometime in the middle of the night. House Cafferen's keep will ensure your safety from these sell swords."

Bran was fearful, but a true knight was brave – and so would he be. And he found he was. A rush of anticipation and adrenaline flooded through him, and he could taste blood in his mouth. That jarred him – had he bitten his tongue? No… there was no blood in his mouth, and the taste was fading. Shaking his head, he hurried after Ser Barristan.

Time passed, maybe an hour, maybe less, and Duty returned, blood on his muzzle.

"Your companion has proven to be a great boon to us; wherever life takes you, Bran, ensure he is at your side."

"I will, ser."

The woods were growing sparser, and soon they remounted. More time passed, and Barristan set them to a canter. Sure enough, his experience soon proved true. They were spotted by a group of more than a dozen riders, trying to cut them off. Bran could see only two options: either push through or be driven back into the denser forest. One rider blew a horn, long and loud.

"Bran, you have been a splendid squire. I know you will become a great knight. Ride in my wake and remember, south to the river and then west."

With that, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard pushed his steed forward, galloping as fast as it could go. A few riders fired arrows, but most readied melee weapons. Three charged straight to meet him. He accepted one blow upon his armor, turned from another and lashed out with his blade at the third. His strike was true, and the man was cut down.

Bran saw a flash of fur as Duty ripped a haunch out of one of the horses. It reared up in protest, trying to keep the wolf at a distance, much to the dismay of the rider, who promptly found himself dropping toward the ground. And then he and Tyrek were past the scrum, they were riding at full speed, and he looked back to see several men give chase, while the majority were trying to take down Ser Barristan.

Barristan's mount was a trained warhorse, that kicked and moved at the knight's will. His blade flashed up and down and more blood fed the hungry earth. And yet, there were too many. Blades, spears, and axes crashed down, and the valiant steed collapsed. Barristan managed to fling himself away and come up fighting before Bran lost sight of him.

Instead, he looked at the four pursuers. Their horses were fresher, though Tyrek and Bran were lighter. Galloping on, Bran could sense that neither horse could take much longer. Making a decision, he called out, "We turn west now and let Duty catch up at a better angle."

Tyrek followed his lead, and they moved west, before Bran adjusted again, more towards north-west. Their pursuers found themselves surprised by Duty. He scrambled their formation and ripped one rider off his mount. The others turned to try to help, but Duty was too fast. Two of the horses panicked and made off, and the last man gave up and returned to his compatriots.

***

Mother was behind this? Mother?? I didn't want to believe it, but Stark seemed sure. I had been told to stick with my handmaidens, and Captain Tregar had orders to seal off the exit. Shit, it all started to fit together. What the hell was she thinking? And why?

"Why?" I asked Lord Stark, annoyed that my voice lacked my usual calm.

The man looked pained. "I uncovered her involvement in treason. Lord Arryn was investigating it, and he was murdered for it. I did not have evidence to prove it to Robert conclusively, but I was going to bring it before him after his return from the hunt. I told the Queen that she should leave King's Landing for her own safety, and then this occurred."

I read his face, watched carefully for signs of deception. They were there. His statements had the ring of truth, but he was leaving something out. I narrowed my eyes.

"There's more. What was the treason Lord Arryn was investigating?" I asked directly.

His eyes surveyed the area around us, motioning for Jory to back away and keep others out of earshot. He took a deep breath and quietly said, "She also gave horns to Robert."

I blinked. Oh no… no, no, no, no, NO! If she cheated on him, that meant some unscrupulous nobles could claim that my brothers and I were not truly his! My mind brought up the memory of Edric Storm, who I had met once on a visit to Storm's End, and then to Gendry at the smithy. They both looked exactly like a young Robert, same face, eyes, hair, oh no. Joffrey, Tommen, and I were bastards!

Curse you Being X!

Did Stark know? The smith had mentioned the Hand visiting, so he had to. Son of a bitch, of course he had to know. What a downright awful reality. The devil was certainly laughing at me right now. This was intolerable. This was… words could not describe the anger I was barely keeping contained.

"What proof do you have that we are not Robert's?"

Again, Stark hesitated. "Sufficient proof, and when I spoke with Cersei, she admitted that all three of you were not Robert's." Hmm, what wasn't he saying? As much as I wished to question him in more detail, we needed to hurry before the Gold Cloaks attacked again.

"You gave warning to mother, so she could flee with us. I know the story well: when King's Landing was sacked, Rhaegar's children were murdered. Fa-Father never punished the knights who did that. You feared the same would happen to the bastard children of my mother."

Eddard Stark gravely nodded. "And for that, I had to die, and I suspect Cersei also has a plan for the King. My mercy has killed more than it would have saved."

Well, as one of the recipients of said mercy, I couldn't fault him too much. It left me in an awful position though, I could contemplate mother's idiocy later. The Gold Cloaks had not attacked again, but they were still holding the entryway into the floor of the Tower of the Hand. Battle was always chancy and my magical reserves were running low. The simplest way to resolve this would be peacefully. Joffrey was with Sansa, and I was with Stark; my mother, once she learned where I was, would want to exchange 'prisoners' with Lord Stark.

This didn't really help the Starks, as the Gold Cloaks and the Red Cloaks would outnumber the remainder of his household guard. The pot would have to be sweetened.

"My mother doesn't know I'm here. Once she is informed, I suggest you offer to trade me and Brienne for Sansa and safe passage to the docks. Ser Davos, a knight in my Uncle Stannis's employ, has a swift ship at the docks, and one of the more able ship captains in the Seven Kingdoms."

Eddard was looking at me strangely again. Did he expect me to bawl and weep for learning of my mother's foolishness and the discovery that I was base-born? Hah! Like I would give Being X the satisfaction of that. Besides, there was no genetic testing in Westeros. There would never be definitive proof, nothing beyond the bastards and Eddard Stark's word that Cersei confessed: more than enough room to sprinkle doubt.

"That idea has merit, but I cannot trust Cersei's word."

"You don't need to. Have the exchange take place at the docks. Cersei may try to send ships after you, but Ser Davos slipped through the blockade at Storm's End, and I've seen the ship he's on. It is built for speed."

"I cannot leave Bran."

"The longer you wait here, the higher the likelihood something goes wrong." Like someone starting the fighting again, putting me at risk! "For my part, I will press that Bran is returned to you if… or when he returns to King's Landing. Especially if you agree to keep secret what you've uncovered about the Royal Family's parenthood."

Stark's eyes narrowed. "That I cannot do."

I smiled at him. "It was worth a shot. Nonetheless, I will still lobby for Bran's return to you. He is a child, and should you capture a Lannister, I anticipate your honor would demand a response in kind."

Eddard once again gave me a contemplative look.

"Very well. Let us see if the Gold Cloaks will talk." Eddard got to his feet and headed toward the stairs. From there, he could shout down that he had the princess and that the Gold Cloaks needed to get a message to the Queen. I took a breath of relief. The exchange of me and Sansa would be the safest way I could get out of this death trap of a tower.

Only a few moments later, Brienne was swiftly approaching.

"Lord Stark is saying you are his prisoner and that they are going to exchange you?"

I nodded. "Yes, apparently it is my own mother who ordered the Gold Cloaks to massacre the Starks. I don't intend to die here; this sort of exchange keeps me safe and gives the Starks a way to leave the city. A win-win scenario."

"But why would the Queen do such a thing?"

I looked at Brienne. She had been the absolute perfect subordinate. I wanted to retain her talents, but I had to do so carefully and with honesty.

"Brienne, Lord Stark believes my mother has betrayed my father. To cover up her misdeeds, she intends to see Lord Stark dead, and certainly my father too. War is on the horizon. You have served as an honorable and loyal sworn shield and have exceeded my expectations in all areas. However, I will remain here, and there will be war between the Wolf and the Lion. Some of this is guesswork, but I suspect the Stormlands and Dragonstone will side with the Wolf."

Brienne had a look of shock on her face.

"If you ask it of me, I will release you from your oaths. I would rather have your continued loyal service, but that may mean crossing swords with the soldiers of Tarth. I leave that choice to you. If you wish release, it would be wise for you to go with the Starks."

Brienne looked troubled. "Your Grace, I swore oaths; I will not abandon them." I looked at her. "If you are sure, I am delighted. But are you? Can you fight for a cause you may not deem just?"

She shook her head. "I am your ma- I am yours. Only, I must confess one thing to you first."

I quirked an eyebrow. "Oh?"

She flushed. "Lord Renly asked me to report on your movements and what occurred in the Royal Apartments. I… felt it was a betrayal, but he is a good and honorable man only concerned with your safety. Nonetheless, I betrayed your confidence, and I will understand if that makes me unfit."

Oh, this was quite wonderful! I got to keep Brienne as my sworn shield, and it would be as if I was doing her the favor. The day had not been without a silver lining after all.

"Lord Renly is the Paramount Lord of the Stormlands; I understand why you did what you did. However, do I have your oath now that you will hold fast to my confidences in the future?"

"Yes, from this day until my last day, I am your sworn shield." Her voice was heavy with emotion. "Thank you."

"Excellent, Brienne. You are to be commended; you saved many lives today with your valor. You may not have the title of knight, but you are more honorable than most. Continue to serve me faithfully."

I may be laying it on a bit thick, but she looked immensely grateful for it. When recognizing employees, it was important to note that a one-size-fits-all approach wasn't ideal. Some employees liked public praise and company-wide accolades. Others, would prefer a quiet note of thanks. Some preferred cash bonuses and others additional time off. Good people management required a leader to flex to each individual employee. Brienne valued this talk of honor, so I gave it to her. And with it, she would be mine for life.

***

Janos was dripping with sweat as he demanded answers from his men. Allar Deem, his right hand, was dead. The babbling men were swearing that there was a band of Braavosi mercenaries alongside half a dozen wolves who had led the slaughter. His men held the entry to the Tower of the Hand, but he did not think they could hold it if attacked.

Janos was still waiting for the reinforcements from the gates, when two sets of noble figures and their retinues approached. Queen Cersei, a score of Lannister guardsmen, Ser Mandon Moore, Ser Meryn Trant, and Ser Preston Greenfield of the Kingsguard approached with haste.

At near the same time, the Knight of Flowers approached with Tyrell guards. With him were Baratheon knights and soldiers.

Ser Loras spoke first. "What is the meaning of this; why is the Tower of the Hand under assault?"

Before Janos could speak, the Queen cut in.

"Lord Tyrell, return to your quarters. Lord Stark has proven a traitor, and the Gold Cloaks are attempting to arrest him."

Loras frowned. "Traitor? Lord Stark? I will not believe it."

A knight with the sigil of purple and black echoed the sentiment, as did others.

The Queen looked vexed, and Janos felt his future lordship prospects diminish. She put her hand up and the knights grew silent.

"Janos, order your men to cease their attempts at arresting Lord Stark."

"Already done, Your Grace. The Starks were dug in and ready for our attack. The narrow halls and steep steps made the attack slow."

As they were speaking, several Gold Cloaks exited the Tower and headed for Janos.

"Your Grace, my lords, I, well, I have been informed by Lord Stark that he has taken the princess Myrcella captive and is asking for safe passage to the docks and the return of Sansa Stark to him."

Janos was confused by the look of relief on the Queen's face. If his child had been taken captive, he would be worried, not relieved. He wondered, if he even still had the opportunity to become a noble, would he understand their oddities better?

"She is unharmed?" The Queen demanded to know.

The Gold Clock, unused to speak to the high borne, stammered. "T-they did not say, m'lady."

"It is Your Grace." Ser Preston interjected, affronted by the lack of respect.

Cersei glared at the knight. "Never mind that now; my daughter is in there with those savages." The Queen took a breath, and Janos couldn't help but notice what it did to her bosom. "I want proof that not a hair on Myrcella's head has been harmed. If she in any way has been hurt, I will visit it tenfold on his daughter, Sansa."

Janos saw the Tyrell knights look uncomfortable at the news. The Queen turned to them. "Do you see now? The Stark crimes are many; they are plotting to overthrow Robert, and they kidnap my daughter."

Loras frowned. "Plotting to overthrow the King? How?"

"I have no time to bandy words with you, ser; return to your accommodations while I try to keep my daughter alive," Cersei snapped at the young knight.

Janos stepped up. "Do as the Queen says, or we must conclude you are part of the plot."

Rage erupted on the faces of the knights, but before more could be done, the Queen raised her voice again. "Please, my Lords, now is not the time to quarrel. All will be made clear in time, but for now I need to focus on Myrcella."

That finally did it, and Ser Loras and the rest left. The Queen whirled on Janos. "What do you think you are doing? You dare speak of accusations to your betters?"

"Your Grace, I thought…"

"No, you did not. You told me you had three hundred Gold Cloaks who were utterly loyal and would not hesitate; why are there so few here?"

"I've already sent two hundred of my men in, Your Grace, they must have known we were coming or…"

Cersei sneered at him, and another Gold Cloak returned from the tower. "They showed the princess. She claims to be well, but we weren't allowed to get too close." The man nervously looked from Janos to the Queen, "Her dress, it, ah, was covered in blood."

The Queen paled. "But she spoke? Myrcella said she was uninjured?"

"She, well, she, uh, she said she was well. I don't think she used un-uninjured."

The Commander of the Gold Cloaks felt his heart skip a beat. The Starks would have no reason to cause harm to such a valuable hostage, but he had given explicit and clear instructions to kill everyone inside the tower. If she was injured, it had been one of his own men. He could only hope she hadn't been injured too badly. In the morning, he had hoped for a lordship; now he hoped to keep his head.

***

Jaime pushed the Lannister guards hard. His sister had not been false when she said it was half a day's ride away. For all he knew, his brother was already dead. As they rode, he wondered if she had been honest with him. Had she taken precautions to ensure Tyrion, Lancel, and Tyrek weren't killed alongside the King?

He honestly didn't know.

One of the Lannister guards had a reputation for being a good tracker. He had picked up the trail, though by the time they arrived at the location of the attack, it was dusk. The darkening sky did not fully hide the smoke that lingered in the woods. Not a true forest fire, but more than just camp fires had been set. Bodies littered the forest floor, the vast majority of which were not recognizable as part of the King's party. One of the Royces and some of the squires were among the dead.

"The trail goes this way, my Lord," Lum said.

Jaime followed along with his men. As they proceeded, they needed to light torches. They came across more bodies, some with their throat or leg ripped apart. Carrion scavengers had begun their work on the corpses, but they had not progressed so far that it would not be easy to tell if it was one of the King's hunting party.

And then they found their first casualty of note: Renly Baratheon. He was dead, hacked and stabbed quite badly. A dead man was lying next to him, stabbed through the gut.

Cersei will be happy.

Renly had suggested that Joffrey be forced to join the Night's Watch after the incident with the butcher's boy. Jaime tasked two of his soldiers to escort the body back to King's Landing. A prince of the realm would need a proper funeral.

They searched on as full night approached. A very distant horn sounded. Jaime was tempted to investigate, but a night ride through the woods was foolhardy, and they still had the trail Lum was following.

They found more bodies. A Lannister guardsman. Then another Royce. And then Lancel. Jaime cursed; his Uncle Kevan would be most upset. Losing your eldest child due to the machinations of your niece… He wasn't sure if it would even be possible to keep Cersei's actions a secret from Tywin and Kevan, but he hoped she had a plan. They would never believe it was the oh-so-honorable Eddard Stark who'd done this.

Finally, they found the King. Jaime looked at the dozens of bodies and felt hollow. What a battle it had been. Near Robert's brutalized body lay Ser Boros Blount. In life, Ser Boros had been the least capable of the Kingsguard and somebody Jaime disdained. But there he lay, dead next to his King, a fitting and honorable end.

"The King is dead. We need to send word to the city as soon as possible." He sent a pair of guards with two extra remounts back.

"They look to have been dead for several hours; I don't expect the assassins to still be around. We need to cover more ground; Tyrion and Tyrek are still out there."

Lum added, "The Stark boy too, and Ser Barristan."

Jaime wondered where Ser Barristan was. His place should have been next to Robert's. Maybe he had waylaid pursuers while Robert was getting away. They continued their search for hours. Finally, good news arrived just as dawn was creeping up. They found Tyrion, alive!

Jaime embraced his brother. "I was beginning to fear the worst."

Tyrion looked exhausted, but he smiled back. "I had the sense to climb a tree; the lackwits never bothered to look up."

Jaime laughed, and Tyrion glanced around to make sure no guards were within direct earshot. "This was Cersei's doing, wasn't it?"

Jaime nodded gravely. "She said they had instructions not to kill any Lannisters."

"Others take her; she's lying. They intended to kill everyone. There must have been hundreds of horsemen in these woods."

Jaime looked uncomfortable. Tyrion eyed him and then asked, "Did anyone else make it?"

"We have not found any survivors. We haven't found bodies for Tyrek, Barristan, or the Stark boy."

"So Lancel…"

Jaime nodded.

With a sigh, Tyrion continued. "The King sent Ser Barristan with Tyrek and Bran. Between Selmy and that wolf, they may have made it out. Based on how we split, I'm betting they went south."

Jaime organized his now-exhausted soldiers to continue. He offered to have Tyrion taken back to King's Landing, but his brother refused. He wanted to see this through and see if his cousin was still alive. As they rode, at a measured pace for the exhausted horses, they resumed their conversation.

"Our sister must be called to account. When word gets back to the city – who knows what will happen. Eddard will…"

Jaime sighed, interrupting Tyrion. "Eddard will have already been taken care of. Cersei was sending Janos Slynt and his Gold Cloaks to murder everyone in the Tower of the Hand."

"Rank madness, she couldn't have slipped the King poison instead? This will mean a civil war, brother. The last time Starks went south to be murdered, they tore down a 300-years dynasty."

"A different King, and a different war. Fret not, little brother, my sword will meet any threat that comes our way."

In the morning, they found Ser Barristan. He was propped up against a tree. His armor was caked in dirt and blood. Ser Jaime approached almost reverently – and nearly fell back when the old knight opened his eyes.

"Jaime?" Barristan asked in a thick voice.

"Seven Hells, I thought you were dead." Jaime moved forward to get a closer look at Barristan. "How bad are your injuries?"

He took off his helmet; there was a bruise along one side of his face, but no blood.

"Took a few wounds; biggest problem is my leg. A horse trampled on it, and it won't hold any weight. Bone is either broken or crushed." The man winced and then chuckled. "When they came to finish me off, I took down one more, and the rest decided it was best not to get too close."

As Jaime got closer, he saw how deformed the breastplate was. Barristan looked to have also been cut underneath the shoulder pauldron; the blood that had leaked out had dried, so it wasn't a life-threatening injury. There was no bloody froth in his mouth, but his breathing was pained so likely only bruised or crushed ribs and nothing sticking into his lungs.

"I regret to inform you, Robert Baratheon has been slain. In fact, all but my brother Tyrion have been killed in the attack, although we have yet to find Bran Stark or Tyrek Lannister."

Barristan nodded. "They went south; should be halfway to Fawnton by now."

"You think they made it?"

Ser Barristan gave a tight nod. "Only a few riders managed to pursue initially, maybe another five afterward. They have the wolf with them; the beast is the only reason we lasted as long as we did."

Jaime's horse was utterly exhausted. The boys would have to wait; either they made it or they were dead. If they arrived at the stout keep, it would keep them safe, and they would dispatch a raven. It was time to return to King's Landing and see to Ser Barristan's wounds. Oh, and figure out how to keep his family from going to war with each other.

***

After the tense 'prisoner exchange', mother had Maester Pycelle look me over for injuries. I told him I was fine, but they were insistent. It was a bit of a juggling act to hide my blades in the privy before I was examined. After I was stripped down to ensure no mark or blemish had found me, I had to go back and retrieve them. The fewer people who knew I had weaponry on my person, the better. Gold Cloaks and Stark guards had to have seen me use them, but all the Starks were sailing away, and most of the Gold Cloaks who'd seen it were dead.

Mother took me to her bedchambers, leaving two of the Kingsguard at the door.

"Do you know what you have done? You have ruined everything with your willfulness!"

I looked at her with contempt. This was the fool that I had looked up to and respected? I had made a colossal error here. Just like it was easy for me to simply act due to my station, the status of Queen did the same, only to a greater degree, for my mother. She was not an expert in the use of political power – she simply used her authority as the King's wife as a bludgeon. Since we lived in a backward feudalistic society, it worked often enough.

"What I have done? You could have told me that I was not allowed to leave the Royal Apartments, but you did not. You could have given better instructions to the captain of your household guard, but you did not. Or maybe you could have not cheated on father!

Cersei's eyes flashed with rage, then with concern. "You mustn't believe whatever Stark lies you have heard. And you must not repeat them."

"I have no intention of throwing my position away. I'd be lucky not to be killed if enough of the Lords believed I was a bastard."

Cersei drank from her cup, a rich Arbor vintage. "This is why your going to visit the Stark girl has ruined everything. Lord Stark will make his filthy accusations for all the Seven Kingdoms to hear."

I shook my head. "No, mother. That was always certain to happen. When I visited the smithy for my brother's gift for his upcoming name day, Tobho Mott expressed surprise that the princess was visiting him too. Eddard Stark, Jon Arryn, and Stannis Baratheon have all visited, and they only did so to see Robert's bastard. Black of hair and looking just like a younger version of him. Stannis knows too."

The Queen trembled a bit before fortifying herself. "They will spew their lies, but when they dare to take the field, Jaime and your grandfather will crush them."

I looked at her closely. "Stark was right, you moved against father too. Is he already dead?"

She flinched. "What are you talking about, what move against your father?"

"Come now, mother, I nearly died today. Stop keeping me in the dark. Do you know how many people I saw die? Do you know how close a Gold Cloak spear came to running me through?"

Mother shuddered. "You are still a child. Just quit being willful, and all will be well."

"He's dead, isn't he? That's why you felt confident about moving against Stark. I'll know soon enough; tell me." I walked forward, leaving less than a foot between us.

"I told you, stop believing in Stark lies. They sent assassins after Robert, I learned of it, and acted. I sent Jaime to stop them and then had Janos try to arrest the Starks. We will know soon if Jaime has made it in time."

I shook my head. "I grow weary of your falsehoods, Cersei." Her eyes snapped to mine. I never called her Cersei.

"Family is everything, Myrcella. All I do is to protect you and your brothers."

"Now that is something I can believe. And I can help; I have a vested interest in making sure I am protected. So, I will ask again for the final time, what did you do?"

She wavered, she was teetering and… then her expression hardened. "You are a child not yet flowered. I will not be lectured by you or be called a liar by my own daughter. You are confined to your quarters, and you will speak to no one of the lies the Starks have told you."

I sighed. "Very well, Cersei. I will see you on the morrow for breakfast."

I left, most disappointed. What I needed most was information, and she was refusing to give it to me. Until I had more knowledge, any action would be premature. Disgruntled, both by the situation and my mother's foolishness, I followed the guards to my room.

***

Eddard Stark had much to think of during the short journey to Dragonstone. Ser Davos, the man who'd saved the garrison at Storm's End with his smuggling wits, knew his craft. Four ships gave chase, but Ser Davos knew the currents and winds, and his ship was made for fleetness.

His primary concern was Bran. He had no way of knowing if his son was alive. Guilt gnawed at him for leaving without him. The princess had been correct; he needed to leave as soon as possible. If Robert was in fact dead, and he likely was, Stannis was now the heir to the Iron Throne. The North would need to call its banners and back his claim.

Princess Myrcella also troubled him. He had spoken with Arya, and she claimed that Myrcella had slain several Gold Cloaks. She swore she saw the princess using throwing knives in multiple fights. If that was true, she was the reason they had held the Small Hall in the last Gold Cloak charge. Those heavy crossbows had nearly turned the tide. The skill to throw those weapons so accurately across a hectic battle was impressive and terrifying. Any time he had met with her, she could have slain him before he would have recognized the threat.

Then there was the very disturbing idea that she was still a child and had no qualms or hesitation about killing. It wasn't as if her actions were immoral or lacking in honor – anyone had the right to defend themselves from that sort of attack – it was how eerily calm she was. Eddard remembered his first kill, a justified one, and yet it still troubled his dreams. Somehow, he did not believe Robert's daughter was troubled by it.

And he did believe Myrcella was a Baratheon in truth. She had Robert's eyes. Cersei may claim that Myrcella was Jaime's as well, but he had seen her hesitate, only for a heartbeat, but she had. Only, there was no way to prove it. If the claim was made that she was Robert's true-born child, it would undermine the idea of Lannister gold always yielding to Baratheon black.

Trueborn or not, the line of succession was clear for the Iron Throne. If Robert was dead, and Eddard knew in his heart he was, then Stannis was next in line. It would mean war; Twyin Lannister would never allow his grandson to be denied from power.

Arya had gotten a taste of winter, but Sansa still had the smell of summer. At first, his daughter had pleaded to remain and that she could 'work things out.' It wasn't until she was face to face with her friend Jeyne Poole, who was weeping over her dead father, that she finally relented. He would miss Vayon Poole; the man had been an able steward and had deserved a better fate.

So many dead… Hullen, Harwin, Donnis, Jacks, Lew, and so many more. The small folk he'd taken with him – most had been slaughtered. He owed Cersei a debt in blood. The Gold Cloaks who attacked had suffered for it, but it was the Queen who had been responsible. Many more lives would be lost before she was brought to justice, many, many more.

It took them four days to reach Dragonstone. All manner of watercraft were scattered around the island. It was not just Seven Kingdom vessels. Eddard could see Myrish ships and some that looked more like pirate vessels than Royal Navy. As they sailed closer and made ready to dock, a welcoming party approached. Mounted soldiers and at least a hundred men-at-arms were arrayed around the dockyard.

Jory approached him, "I imagine they already received word from King's Landing; do you think he'll be welcoming us?"

"Lord Stannis Baratheon is an honorable man; he is a hard man but just. Whatever lies the Queen has put to paper, I believe we can overcome."

When they docked, Ser Davos stepped off first and Eddard Stark followed with Jory at his side, followed by Sansa and Arya. Next to Stannis were two women; one was his wife Selyse, and the other was a stunning woman clad all in red. Nearly as tall as Brienne, but far more beautiful, she commanded the eye. He did not know who she was, but standing by Stannis's side underscored her importance.

"Ser Davos, I asked you to make preparations to escort Myrcella out of King's Landing. Were you successful?"

The woman in red spoke, "He was not; I have seen it in the flames."

Davos looked down. "Forgive me, your lordship, it was impossible. The princess was in the custody of Lord Stark and was traded for his daughter."

"You have failed, but in your failure, you have proven again that Melisandre's visions can be trusted." He turned to Eddard, "Lord Stark. Why have you come?"

"Stannis, I fear I bring you grave and terrible news. Your brother, he…"

Melisandre interrupted, "Brothers. I have seen this as well, Lord Stark. The lioness struck, and two stags lay dead at her feet, while four wolves fled."

Eddard paused, uncertain.

Stannis's voice ended the silence. "Allow me to introduce you properly. This is Melisandre, a priestess of R'hllor and my principal advisor. I was doubtful at first, but she has proven that the visions she sees in the flames are accurate."

Eddard still didn't know what to believe, but he nodded his head. "Then you have my deepest sympathies for the loss of your brothers." She had also said four wolves had fled, which meant Bran was still alive. If her visions were to be believed. This could all be mummery; they'd been at sea for a few days, more than enough time to have received a raven. But if the raven was the source of her information, then that still meant Bran was not in the Lannister's clutches.

"They loved me not; spare me your sympathies." Stannis replied, a note of anger tinged his otherwise controlled voice.

Eddard narrowed his eyes at the comment but turned to Melisandre. "I am not familiar with your faith, Lady Melisandre. I have only met one other, and he never claimed to see visions."

"The night is dark and full of terrors; not all who serve R'hllor are equally capable. A candle and a bonfire both give off light, both are useful, but they are not the same."

Eddard nodded at that and then turned to Stannis again. "I have more news. The realm believes Joffrey is the heir; Cersei may have already had him crowned, but he is not Robert's son."

Stannis's eyes locked on to Eddards. "I know. I intend to crown myself and let the realm know of the Queen's infidelity. Joffrey Waters will be deposed."

"You know? Then why didn't you act? Why did you flee to Dragonstone?" Ned questioned. All of this could have been prevented if Stannis had worked with him!

"Had I stayed, I would have suffered the same fate as Lord Arryn. Now I ask you, Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell, do you acknowledge my claim to the Iron Throne? Are you prepared to swear fealty and call your banners to enforce my claim?"

Eddard dropped to one knee. "Aye, you are Robert's heir. I swear fealty to you as the true King of the Seven Kingdoms." Eddard looked up. "And I'll do so again in a more formal setting when you are crowned."

An easing of tension left the body of the Lord of Dragonstone. The man's face and stance did not change, but a loosening of his spine and muscles were just noticeable enough for Eddard to pick up.

"Rise then, Lord Stark. You will need to write to your bannermen. I have a letter that I will be sending on over a hundred ravens to the great and small houses of Westeros, putting forward the truth of Cersei's children and calling for them to recognize me as Robert's heir."

"Stannis, I fully believe that Joffrey and Tommen are base-born and the product of an incestuous relationship between Jaime and Cersei. I do not believe Myrcella is."

Stannis looked pained. "This has vexed me as well. Melisandre can give me no direct answer if she is Robert's or not. I will not risk being a kinslayer; Joffrey and Tommen must die, but she can be given to the Silent Sisters. If proof can be found of her being Robert's, a marriage with a steadfastly loyal house would also be acceptable."

Ned looked pained. "Must the children face death? Can they not take the Black?"

Stannis shook his head firmly. "No, they may not. They are a product of incest. Should they be allowed to live, they will always be a threat to my reign."

"That isn't fair! Tommen didn't do anything wrong!" Arya yelled. His daughter had silently crept closer to listen to them.

Eddard put a hand up. "Perhaps we should take this discussion elsewhere, Your Grace."

Stannis agreed, before ordering rooms be arranged for him, his family, and his retainers. There was much to do; he needed to send word to Cat and Robb as quickly as possible, so they could begin the muster. The North was vast, and it would take longer to summon their banners than the rest of the Seven Kingdoms.

***

Robb had learned a great deal about how to manage Winterfell and the surrounding lands under his mother's tutelage. Between reviewing ledgers, hiring more servants and guards to replace those who had gone south, and continuing his arms training, his days were crammed. With how he missed Jon, Bran, the girls, and his father, he was grateful for how busy he found himself.

Then came the flurry of letters. Letters from Dragonstone and King's Landing. Letters claiming King Robert was dead. The letter claimed that his father was the one behind the assassination of Robert, his brother Renly, and several other nobles. Then a letter from Dragonstone, from Stannis Baratheon, claiming that Joffrey and Tommen were bastards borne of incest. He was proclaiming himself as the King. Then a letter from his father, also from Dragonstone, saying that Stannis was the true King and that Cersei had betrayed them all.

That letter had included a long list of casualties that made Robb's heart hurt. Vayon Poole, Harwin, Hullen, and Donnis were just the most familiar names, and so many more. He had orders to summon the might of the North, reinforce Moat Cailin, gather the banners, and march south with all haste.

His mother and Maester Luwin helped him write the letters. Soon more letters came, Stark vassals asking for confirmation of the prior missives coming from Dragonstone. He was awash in ink and parchment for some days, but now decisions had to be made.

He was with Theon Greyjoy, Luwin, and his mother, and it was time to determine who would lead the force heading south.

"There must always be a Stark at Winterfell," his mother advised him.

"Yes, and you and Rickon will be here!" Robb countered.

"My son, your father has many able bannermen who can take on that duty, and he will likely seek to meet up with our forces going south. There is no need for you to go yourself."

Theon spoke to Robb directly. "She has a mother's heart, and doesn't wish to risk you. But this is your chance to go to war and make a name for yourself! If you remain here in Winterfell, far from it all, your men will never respect you."

Luwin disagreed, "Not so. An heir holding his ancestral home during times of war is fitting."

Robb pursed his lips. In truth, he wanted to go south. He wanted to prove himself worthy of being Lord of Winterfell and the future Warden of the North. He also wanted to avenge the murders of the Stark guards and smallfolk.

"I understand your concerns, mother, but I must do this. You and Maester Luwin will remain her and take care of Rickon and Winterfell. Though it is unlikely any enemy forces will come this far North, I will leave a strong number of guards here with you."

Catelyn would beg him to reconsider, but he had set his mind. Unless his Lord Father countermanded him, he was the Stark at Winterfell, and at 17 he was of age and at his maturity. His mother would have to abide by his decision.

Theon was pleased at least. Rousing for war, it would not be long before the bannerman would join them. Robb would be expected to feast them and then coordinate the long march south. War was on the horizon, and he would put all the lessons his father and Rodrik Cassel had given him into practice.