Chapter 6. Ramsay Snow

Robb nodded and instructed, "Theon, take a few men and cut off the heads of these sixteen enemies. Bind them to the horses along with the bodies of the three fallen soldiers. We'll take them back to Winterfell."

"Alright, I'll handle it right away!"

Theon responded and immediately turned to gather men for the task.

"Wait, Theon."

Hearing Robb's call, Theon turned back with a puzzled expression.

"Thank you!"

Robb said softly to him with a smile.

Upon hearing that, Theon's lips curled into a smile. He waved casually before turning back to his duties.

As Robb watched Theon's retreating figure, he pondered how he could fully win him over in the future.

Theon wasn't inherently a bad person. He had some capabilities and could lead a small-scale attack.

His combat skills were above average in Westeros, and he was especially good with a bow.

Over the years, growing up with Robb and the others, receiving the same education from Eddard, he had developed a sense of kinship.

Moreover, Theon had always been close to Robb, treating him like a real brother.

In the original series, before Theon was persuaded by his biological father Balon and sister Yara to attack Winterfell, he had considered writing a letter to warn Robb.

But Theon's personality was indecisive, and his will wasn't strong enough. He was easily influenced and often wavered.

If Robb could now completely win him over and make him fully loyal, Theon would undoubtedly become a valuable asset in the future.

"Jon, go check the saddlebags on those horses over there."

Knowing the characteristics of those around him, Robb assigned Jon the task of handling the spoils of war.

Without a word, Jon nodded with a blank expression and headed towards the group of horses tied to a small tree in the hollow, where Dickon and his men had left them.

"You did well, Robb. It's your first time leading a group, and you managed to execute the right tactical arrangements and achieve victory with minimal losses."

Ser Jory, wearing chainmail stained with blood, walked up to Robb and praised him.

This entire pursuit was directed solely by Robb. In the middle of the night, the scouts Robb had sent first spotted Dickon and his men camping based on the traces they found.

However, at the time, Robb and the others were already exhausted. So, instead of launching a rash attack, he chose to rest and eat until dawn before launching a surprise assault.

Of course, the elite Winterfell cavalry, who regularly ate fruits, meat, and animal organs, suffered none of the night blindness common among peasants of this era.

The endurance of Northern horses, which was superior to that of Southern horses, also played an important role.

"Ser Jory, you flatter me. Even if the three of us weren't here, you could have easily taken care of this group of enemies."

Robb maintained a respectful and humble demeanor towards this captain of Eddard's guard who had served his father for nearly 20 years.

"Haha, back when your parents got married, I joked during the wedding feast that 'the son you two have will definitely be extraordinary.'"

"Hehe!"

As Jory reminisced about the past, Robb, having nothing else to do, smiled politely. However, his mind wandered back to the scene of acquiring the Blood Pact Points earlier.

***

When Robb killed Dickon, a red mist, as thick as a thumb, rose from Dickon's body and quickly flowed into his own.

At that moment, he felt an endless surge of strength within him.

[Blood Pact Points +5]

This battle had actually earned Robb a total of 7 Blood Pact Points.

However, during the intense battle when Robb broke through the defensive formation and killed the first soldier, he had no time to check the brief notification message that flashed before his eyes.

At present, his total Blood Pact Points were 7.

Yesterday, during the chase, eating the dry rations hadn't provided Robb with the daily Blood Pact Point.

He speculated that this might be because the portable rations were too simple and lacked sufficient nutrients.

After a short while, Theon and Jon completed their respective tasks and returned to report to Robb.

Jon speculated that Dickon and his men must have plundered more than just Eastwood Village, because he had counted a total of 27 gold dragons, over 1000 silver stags, and a large bag of copper pennies.

There were also seventeen fine Northern horses, and two large bags filled with valuable herbs and wild game.

Such a large amount of wealth couldn't possibly come from just one Eastwood Village.

After resting for about 10 minutes, Robb gave the order, and the Winterfell cavalry skillfully handled the additional horses and controlled the spoils, beginning their journey back.

On the return trip, they didn't rush. First, because the warhorses were already quite exhausted, and second, because the additional horses and spoils were slowing them down.

After about half a day's travel, Robb and his party reached the confluence of the White Knife and the Limber River.

"Theon, have everyone rest and eat, and take the opportunity to clean off the bloodstains."

Seeing the wide-open view of the area with its intersecting water sources, Robb, who was leading the way, instructed Theon, who was beside him.

Theon nodded, then turned his horse around and rode along the cavalry column, loudly calling for everyone to dismount and rest.

"Jon, take someone and scout ahead. I'll send someone to relieve you in a while."

Receiving Robb's orders, Jon nodded, signaled to a cavalryman he knew well in the group, and the two of them rode ahead to scout.

This time leading a troop independently, the military tactics his father Eddard had taught him over the years gradually turned into practical application in Robb's mind.

Robb didn't let all the cavalry dismount at once to rest and clean themselves. Instead, he had them do it in shifts, to guard against a possible cavalry attack.

Clip-clop!

After Robb and the others had briefly cleaned off the dried blood on their bodies and eaten some rations, Jon and his companion quickly rode back.

"Robb, there's a group of cavalry ahead, flying the flayed man banner of House Bolton."

As soon as they approached, Jon reported the situation directly.

"House Bolton…? Did they show any signs of attacking you?"

Robb asked, stroking the stubble on his chin and thinking for a moment.

"No, they were riding slowly, like we do when we go out for a casual ride."

"Alright, I understand. Jon, you two rest for a bit. Everyone else, organize the formation and be ready for battle at any time."

After Robb gave his order, the cavalry quickly adjusted their chainmail and mounted their horses, preparing for combat.

***

Before long, Robb spotted the silhouette of the cavalry troop in his line of sight. After riding a certain distance, the troop stopped.

One cavalryman, holding the flayed man banner, approached Robb's cavalry.

After a brief exchange, Robb learned that the group was led by Ramsay Snow, the bastard of Roose Bolton, and they were pursuing the deserters who had raided two villages.

Upon learning Robb's identity, the cavalryman respectfully saluted and then rode back to report.

A few minutes later, Ramsay, with a bright smile on his face, his black hair and black eyes gleaming, came to stand before Robb, accompanied by two attendants and two hunting dogs.

"Young Lord Stark, Ramsay Snow of House Bolton sends you his sincerest greetings."

"Ramsay, I believe the deserters you were pursuing should be them, right?"

Facing a character he deeply despised, Robb instead smiled and pointed to the severed heads on the horses behind him.

"Yes, it's them. To die at the hands of Young Lord Stark, they're truly lucky!"

"Lucky?"

"Yes, I really wish they had the fortune of falling into my hands."

"They slaughtered a village in our territory. I'm taking these heads back to report to my father.

Take your men and return to House Bolton's lands!"

After exchanging a few simple words and looking at the smiling Ramsay, whose eyes flickered with a dangerous light, Robb frowned, unwilling to continue the conversation, and spoke firmly.

Hearing that, Ramsay's smile froze momentarily.

"Yes, yes! I as you command. Please send my regards to Lord Eddard."

Then, he nodded and bowed before leading his attendants and hunting dogs away.

"Lord Ramsay, there's no need to be so respectful towards this 'Young Lord Stark,' is there? After all, our House Bolton pledges loyalty to his father."

After Ramsay and his men turned and left, a short and ugly attendant beside him spoke up.

"Aeryn, we are a pack of hunting dogs. We must always show the most loyal demeanor in front of our master.

The heir of the Warden of the North. Tsk tsk, what an enviable position."

A sinister smile appeared on Ramsay's lips as his eyes glinted, and he spoke in a chilling tone.

"Alright, Dickon was fortunate enough to die. I'm not happy about it. Now, let's find a place to have some fun and vent a little."

 ...

Footnotes:

Silver Stags :

A form of currency. They are typically made of silver and are one of the main coins used in the Seven Kingdoms.

Gold Dragons :

They are the most valuable coins in the realm and are typically made of gold. Gold Dragons are used primarily by the wealthy and in significant transactions

Limber River :

A river in the North of Westeros, flowing through the region that includes parts of House Stark's territory.

Aeryn :

A minor character from House Bolton in "A Song of Ice and Fire." He is mentioned as a member of House Bolton, serving as a soldier or bannerman.