Chapter 4 Eddard

(Hello everyone! So, this is a fanfic that I've been working on for a while now. I borrowed several elements from Game of Thrones and A Song of Ice and Fire. This is my first fanfic on this site, so constructive criticism is welcome. Appreciate!)

Ned Stark sat under a tree with his back resting on its trunk and his broken leg propped up with a sack of oats under it. The leg throbbed a bit but was nowhere near as painful as it had first been when his horse had fallen under him in the street in King's Landing the night Jaime Lannister had tried to kill him. He was sitting near a fire and Yoren was heating some sausages on a stick over it. Nearby the rest of their party was also making small fires and setting to cooking their supper, some roasting sausages, others roasting potatoes, all eating bread with some cheese. Some of the new recruits for the Night's Watch stood over by their wagons, horses, and donkeys, feeding and watering the animals and keeping an eye on the nearby Kingsroad. Yoren had armed most of the men and boys, giving them the few swords, daggers, maces, and bows and arrows he had in the wagons. The others had made makeshift clubs from tree branches. They seemed like a trustworthy lot for a bunch of criminals, Ned thought.

All but the three in the cage, that is, who were not even allowed out to piss and had to do so through the bars of their cage. At least Yoren had given them a bucket to shit in. The one called Rorge cursed everyone who came near the cage. The one called Biter hissed and snarled but said nothing. And the third one that Yoren said was a foreigner named Jaqen H'ghar was polite but had a look of danger about him. Yoren said he was a murderer and Ned believed it without a doubt.

In the fading light he saw his daughter Arya with Gendry and the other two boys, the ones called Lommy Greenhands and Hot Pie, sitting around a fire roasting sausages and potatoes on sticks. The two who had given her trouble the first day now seemed friendly enough. After three days on the road the four, being the youngest, had fallen into a little gang together. Ned had no chance to talk to Arya yet, and did not dare risk it in this group. Many of the recruits eyed him warily at first. A few knew who he was and what he had done so soon the rest knew. But he heard some whispering and they didn't know if he was a lord or a traitor or a common criminal like them. The second day Yoren loudly called him 'Lord Stark' when they halted for a piss break and to fill their water bottles and pots from a stream. Soon the rest took to calling him Lord Stark, and dipped their heads politely when he passed by.

But he hadn't a chance to talk to Arya yet. The first night she tried to come over to their fire but Yoren had spotted her and stood and told her to get back with the others in a low hiss, saying they were too close to King's Landing and for her to wait a few days like he said. He apologized to Ned after but Ned agreed with him. Yet having her so close after so long without talking to her made him ache inside. She was family, she was home, and he knew she wanted to run into his arms like she did when she was little and he had come home after being away. But she was not little anymore, and terrible things had happened to their family and so she had to hide as a boy. And she understood that and kept her distance from him after that first night.

That was three days ago. He had Yoren for company, which was not so bad, seeing as the Night's Watch man was full of good humor and stories and always had a skin of wine at night. The rest of the recruits drank water or beer out of a big keg in the back of one of the wagons. Arya looked over at Ned the first time she had a mug of beer, as if to ask if it was all right, and he shrugged slightly. She grinned a bit and drank, then made a sour face and almost spit it up, but the other boys were drinking so she stuck to it and finished her mug.

"Here you go," Yoren said as he handed Ned a crisp sausage on a stick. Ned took a slab of bread and placed the sausage on it and was soon munching away, the sausage grease dripping on his clothing. He didn't care. His clothes were filthy and he smelled like a riverfront whorehouse. He needed a bath. They all needed a bath. Arya's hair was greasy and her face was streaked with dirt and the clothes she wore needed a good wash. If her mother could see her now she'd throw a fit.

Thinking of Cat made Ned morose. She was out there somewhere, in the Vale or back in Winterfell, he did not know. If she was smart she'd head straight for White Harbor and home. Brandon and Rickon needed her now more than ever, with everyone else gone. Especially Brandon. It was his own fault. He should have told Robert no when he asked him to be the Hand. And when Bran got hurt he had a real reason not to go. Robert would have ranted and raved but he would have understood. But he could never refuse Robert, especially not then, not when Jon Arryn was dead and he was surrounded by Lannisters. And now Robert was dead, too. Almost all his people he took to King's Landing were dead, and his eldest daughter was prisoner of his enemies. Why had the gods been so cruel as to bring his family to this state? What had he done to offend them so much?

But deep down Eddard Stark knew what he had done. He had made a promise to someone he loved and he had kept that promise, even if it meant he had to sully his own reputation, cast doubt on his honor, and cause another person he loved unspeakable pain. Such was the price one paid when there were too many oaths taken, too many promises made, and too many people who could be hurt by the wrong word in the wrong ear. And now he was reaping the harvest he had sown as the gods came calling for their payment for keeping his secret for so many years. He just hoped not everyone in his family would pay the ultimate price.

After he ate, and drank a bit more wine, Ned watched his daughter move away from her little group and start heading for the thicker woods that were about fifty yards from their little camp under the trees near the Kingsroad. As she walked past him she looked at him steadily and flicked her eyes towards the woods. Ned waited for ten minutes then told Yoren quietly what he was doing. Yoren nodded his assent, and Ned got up, using a stick for a crutch. He hobbled off in the direction Arya went and soon found her leaning against a tree. With watery eyes and a sob his daughter rushed into his arms and he hugged her tight, never wanting to let go again.

"Oh, sweet child," he said in soothing tones as he held her. "Don't cry. I'm here now."

She started talking in a rush, going on about what had happened that dreadful day, how Syrio had protected her and how she thought he was now dead, and then, then…

"I came to the stables. They were all dead," Arya said with another sob. "I found Needle, and…and…a boy tried to take me, to hurt me, so…I…I had Needle in my hand…and…"

But she cast her eyes down and couldn't say it and for a second he didn't understand. Then it came to him in a sudden dreadful realization. So he said it for her, not wanting to, not wanting it to be true, but knowing it must be done, for her sake, so she would not dwell on it forever. "You stuck him with the pointy end."

She nodded slightly. "I didn't mean to. He grabbed my arm and then it was too late."

"It's not your fault. You did what you had to do. If you hadn't they would have you now too. Don't you ever forget it's not your fault."

"It's their fault," she said with fire in her eyes. "The Queen, and Joffrey, and the Hound, all of them! I hate them all!"

"You're not alone in that hate," he said in a grim tone

"We have to go back and save Sansa! They're going to make her marry that monster!"

Ned held her tight. "Sweet girl, if we try to save your sister they would kill her and us, too. We need time, time to think, time to find friends, and make a plan and then I promise you I will do everything in my power to make them pay and bring your sister home to Winterfell."

"You promise?"

"I swear it by all the old gods and the new."

"But…your oath…to take the black. I heard you say it on the steps of the Sept of Baelor. You swore by the old gods and the new that Joffrey was the rightful king and that you would take the black."

"Arya, Joffrey is not the rightful king. And any oath made with a sword at you or your loved one's throats is not one the gods will hold you to."

She smiled and he hugged her tight. "Then…who is the rightful king?" Arya asked.

"Stannis Baratheon, King Robert's brother."

"Not Tommen?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Some day I will explain it all to you. Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Good girl." After a moment he parted from her but kept his free arm around her shoulders. "We have to go back now," he told her. "Don't say a word of this to anyone." Arya nodded. "And make sure you stay a boy in front of the others." As they turned to go back they heard a movement and then Gendry was standing there.

"My lord?" Gendry said in puzzlement, staring at them.

Ned realized he still had his arm around Arya's shoulder. He awkwardly removed it and was about to explain when Arya shouted at the boy.

"What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," Gendry explained, taken aback by her shout.

"Why? I was just taking a piss." Ned almost laughed and he was sure her mother would clout the two of them behind the ear if she had heard Arya talking like that and him standing there doing nothing.

"Cause he said to look out for you," Gendry explained to her, casting his eyes at Ned.

Her face screwed up in anger, "I don't need looking out for," she told him and her father at same time in a defiant tone.

"Yes, you do," Gendry and Ned said at the same time and then they both grinned.

"No, I don't!" Arya said in a huff as she stalked off toward the camp, her hand on Needle at her waist.

Gendry was staring at Ned. "Look, lad, the boy…"

"Isn't a boy," Gendry finished for him.

Ned paused and then nodded. "Aye. How do you know?"

"Arry always pisses in the woods where no one can see. No one else does that. And she doesn't look like a boy. Not really. Not up close. Actually, she looks a bit like you, my lord."

Ned sighed, and decided to just tell him. "She's my daughter, Arya."

"Arya? The one they were looking for?"

Ned frowned. "What do you mean?"

"The morning we left a man was in our shop, talking to Master Mott. I heard him say the Spider was offering money for news about Arya Stark."

Varys, the Spider, playing his part for the Queen and King no doubt. "Is that so? How much money?"

"Don't know. I didn't hear. Not my business anyways."

"Smart lad. About Arya…"

"I won't say anything to the others."

Ned grinned. "I know you won't."

"Yoren…"

"Yoren already knows. Let's get back."

Ned starting walking back to the camp and Gendry followed. Just before they reached the edge of the woods Gendry stopped. "Can I ask you something, my lord?"

Ned paused, turned and looked at him. "I know what you want to know. Why did Jon Arryn and I come and talk to you."

Gendry nodded. Ned stood for a long moment debating on what to tell him. Finally, he decided the boy had a right to know. It didn't matter anyways, not where they were supposed to be going. And only the gods knew what would happen to them all. He needed to know.

"Gendry, did you know your father?"

"No. I'm a bastard."

"Don't call yourself that, lad."

"It's true."

"Aye, it may be true but enough people in the world will call you it without you doing it too."

"I understand. But…you were asking about my father?"

"Your mother never told you who he was?"

"No." Then Gendry suddenly understood. "You…you know who my father is?"

"Aye."

"Who?"

Ned hesitated and then just said the name. "King Robert Baratheon."

Gendry just stood there for a long moment, his eyes wide, face turning pale. He shook his head. "No, that isn't right. That can't be."

"Did you ever lay eyes on him?"

"Once or twice. From afar."

"I knew him for more than twenty years. You're his spitting image. You look just like he did at fifteen."

Gendry was in shock, his eyes staring off into the growing darkness. Ned let him be for a bit, then he looked straight at Ned. "Did he tell you I was his son?"

"No…but Jon Arryn figured it out. And your Master Mott said someone paid double your apprentice fee when you first came to him. And Varys, the Spider, told me he was the one who paid it, after Robert told him to look after you after your mother died."

Gendry sniffed, and his eyes watered, but he held control of his emotions. "All those years, he never once came to see me, never did anything, never said I was his."

"He couldn't, lad. Especially not in King's Landing, where anyone who wanted to hurt him had eyes and ears everywhere. You understand?"

Gendry nodded and then he got a surprised look on his face. "Then the new King is my brother?"

Ned took a deep breath. "Not by any laws of the kingdoms." It was the truth, but not the whole truth.

"I didn't think so," Gendry said downhearted. Most bastards were told the law when they grew older. They had no rights, not to inherit or take any titles. Ned had had such a painful conversation with Jon Snow when he was just a small boy. Jon had been brave, fighting back his tears, and Ned had wanted to tell him so much more, but couldn't.

"Are there more like me?" Gendry asked him.

Again Ned paused. "Aye."

"How many bastards did the king have?"

"I don't know. You have an older sister in the Vale named Mya and a younger brother at Storm's End named Edric. Those two I know about for sure. And maybe a baby sister in King's Landing."

"Did he fuck every woman he ever met?" Gendry said in anger and Ned allowed him that cause it was so true of Robert.

"Not all men are strong when it comes to women, lad."

Gendry said nothing but leaned against a tree and then slid down and sat on the ground. "Come on, lad. Let's get back," Ned said gently.

"Leave me be for a while. I need to think."

"I guess you do. I'm sorry to be to one to tell you this."

"At least you're honest."

"Aye," Ned replied. "Don't stay out here long. It will get cold."

Ned turned to leave when Gendry asked him a question which stopped him cold. "Is that why Jon Arryn died? Is that why you got into trouble? Because of asking questions about me?"

Ned turned back. "There's much more to the story than just you. But I can't tell, not yet. Some day maybe I will."

Gendry said nothing but stared off into the forest so Ned let him be as he wished. He walked on his unsteady legs back to their small camp. Arya was standing by her fire, looking over towards him, a questioning look on her face, and he knew she was wondering what he and Gendry had been up to but he dare not approach her. He was just about near the tree where he and Yoren had their small fire when one of the recruits approached him. "Lord Stark, Yoren needs you down by the Kingsroad."

Ned followed him as best he could. The light was almost gone and in the gloom he could see Yoren with three other recruits talking to a man on a wagon pulled by an ox. In the back of the wagon there was a woman and three small children and what looked like everything the family owned.

"Lord Stark," Yoren said as Ned approached. "This man has news of fighting up north."

Ned looked at the man, who was maybe in his thirties, with brown hair and a thick beard. "I'm Lord Eddard Stark. What news have your heard, Goodman?"

"Lord Stark?" said the man in surprise and then he dipped his head and climbed down from his wagon. "There's fighting up north, all right," he told Ned. "Are you really Lord Stark from Winterfell?"

"Aye."

"Then it's your son that's fighting, folks are saying. Him against the Lannisters."

Ned took a deep breath. "Where?"

"Some folks said up by the Trident. Others say Green Fork, maybe Blue Fork. Others say Riverrun. We heard it a day past at a roadside inn. But each man told it different, my lord."

"Who won the fight?" Yoren asked the man.

"Starks did, most agree," the man said. "Sent the Lannisters running back west."

For a moment Ned felt a surge of pride for his son but then tempered his feelings. This was just a rumor, and he would not let rumors cloud his judgment. "Aye, that's good news. But I bet they didn't run far."

The man shrugged. "I'm just saying what others said, my lord."

"No offense meant, Goodman. We are grateful for your news," Ned said quickly. "And we'd appreciate more of it. What news of Beric Dondarrion or Gregor Clegane?"

"Dondarrion. He's the one they call the Lightning Lord. Clegane? Don't know that name," the man said in puzzlement.

"They call him the Mountain," Yoren told him.

The man nodded. "Aye, a right bastard that one is. More than one person we met on the road said beware of him and his followers. A sellsword at the inn said the Mountain's men killed the Lightning Lord at the Mummer's Ford more than a fortnight past."

"That's grievous news if true," Ned replied. "What of his men?" Many of those had been from his own household.

"Didn't hear, my lord," the man told him. "But we left our farm near the God's Eye six days past and we were lucky to get away. There's more than one group of outlaws up the road. And they are killing and taking what they want."

"Thank you for your news, Goodman," Ned replied. "You and yours are welcome to stay under the trees with us for the night."

"Thank you, my lord, but we will keep going. The wife and young ones can sleep in the back. The closer we get to King's Landing the safer I'll feel."

"May the gods look after you," Ned told him and the man said the same, dipped his head once more and then climbed up on his wagon and was soon gone.

Yoren sent the three recruits off to get their supper while he and Ned stood by the King's Road as darkness came. They stood there an hour and more and more people kept coming, moving in the dark, the skies clouding over and giving no moon or starlight. They questioned a few more people and more or less got the same story plus many wild rumors. All were heading to King's Landing. A few stopped and made camp for the night on the other side of the road, but most moved on.

Yoren set guards for the night, and then he and Ned retired to their tree. A light rain began to fall and soon grew heavier and then everyone scrambled to get under better cover, many under the wagons.

Yoren stood and let the rain hit him. "Best way to stay clean," he said with a laugh.

Ned stood with him in the downpour and felt invigorated by the water flowing through his hair and down his face. "If only I had a bar of soap."

"That inn the man was talking about," Yoren began. "It has a bathhouse. We'll stop there on the morrow and get the lice and filth of Kind's Landing out of us all."

"Not my daughter."

Yoren thought for a moment. "I can ask the innkeeper if she can have a private room and we can bring her a bucket and some soap."

Ned nodded. "We can try, but…" Then they heard someone walking and it was Gendry coming back to the camp from the woods. He passed by without a glance and then joined Arya and the other two boys as they tried to find room under a wagon out of the rain. "Aye, Gendry, the smith. He knows who she is now. He can watch the door for her while she bathes."

"Not my place to question you, my lord, but do you think it wise to tell the boy who she is?"

"He already figured it out she was a girl."

They soon sat back under their tree where the fire was sputtering under the rain. Yoren took a long drink of wine and offered the skin to Ned but he shook his head no.

"Speaking of the lad, I was meaning to ask you about Gendry," Yoren said.

"You can ask. I might not answer."

"Fair enough. Boy said you came to see him. You and Jon Arryn."

"Aye."

"I think I know why. He has the look of a certain someone."

"That he does." Ned said no more.

Yoren drank again. "Funny, him being a smith and all. Wielding a hammer."

Ned chuckled. "I had the same thought."

After a while the rain slacked off and the camp began to doze. Ned slept badly, his leg bothering him. During the night Yoren kept getting up to inspect the camp. It was his habit and then he would sleep most of the morning in the wagon as they moved north. He had had a horse when he came to King's Landing but in his haste to bring Ned news of what Catelyn had done his horse went lame and had to be put down. Ned would have to give him a new one when they got to Winterfell. Lannisters weren't the only ones who paid their debts. Yoren was a good man, and Ned was glad to have him as their leader.

When Yoren came back from one of his inspection trips Ned was awake, thinking on all that had happened to bring him to this point in his life. "What can you tell me about Tyrion Lannister?" Ned asked Yoren.

"The Imp?" Yoren said in surprise. "Don't know him well, my lord."

"You traveled with him from the Wall you said."

"Aye. He likes his drink and he has more than a few bawdy stories. He did your son a kindness by drawing that saddle for him." Ned had already heard the story about the Imp's saddle when Yoren had first come to King's Landing.

"Strange thing a man trying to help my son after trying to kill him."

"Aye. That it is."

"Do you think he did it?" Ned asked and the question lay heavy in the darkness between them.

Yoren sighed. "Your lady wife thought so. And she convinced those men at the inn enough to take him. But what made her think he done it is the question I'd like to know the answer to."

"The dagger the footpad tried to use to kill Bran. It belonged to the Imp."

"That so? And when would the Imp have had time to give him this dagger? He left Winterfell when you left. He was heading to the Wall when your son was attacked many days later."

All this Ned knew from Yoren's earlier report. "I think the bigger question is why would he want Bran dead," Ned asked and Yoren had no answer and they soon fell silent. Ned couldn't sleep, thinking on all this, and in his mind there grew an idea on what had really happened. Baelish had told them the dagger was the Imp's. Baelish, who had loved Cat for years. Baelish who had put a dagger at his throat the day he was arrested. What was Baelish really up to?

Ned slept little more and was up when the sun rose. Soon the camp was stirring and they broke their fast on bacon and flat cakes the baker's boy Hot Pie fried in the bacon grease in a flat pan over a fire. Everyone commented on how good they were. "They're best with a bit of honey or jam," Hot Pie told them as he flipped a cake in the pan.

"And bacon grease," Arya said with her mouth full, grinning. "What do you call them?"

"Just…cakes," answered Hot Pie with a shrug.

"They ain't cakes," said another recruit.

"We should call them hot cakes, after Hot Pie," Lommy Greenhands said with a laugh and soon everyone was calling them hot cakes.

Gendry was nearby chewing on his hot cake, looking like he had slept worse than Ned had, and for good reason. It's not every day you are told the dead king was your father. His hammer was at his waist and he had his bulls head helmet under his arm. Ned walked up to him.

"Morning, lad."

"Morning, my lord."

Ned was about to say more but Yoren came up to them. "Gendry, the hitch on the third wagon is loose. Can you fix it?"

Gendry took his hammer off his belt. "I can try." And then he went off with Yoren and soon came the sound of his hammer beating on metal.

Ned stood there with Arya not five feet away, mixed in with the others as Hot Pie kept cooking. Ned noticed some of the recruits looking at him. Finally, one got bold enough to talk to him. "We heard there's fighting up north, Lord Stark."

"Aye," answered Ned. "But they won't bother us. The Night's Watch takes no part in the realm's disputes."

"I was on the road last night with you, my lord," said another. "Is it true your son is fighting the Lannisters?"

Arya gasped and almost choked on her hot cake. Ned looked at her as he spoke to them. "Aye, it's true. Robb Stark is my son. He led my…his…bannermen down from the north and had a fight with the Lannisters. Rumor is he won, but that's all we know."

Arya looked at him and spoke, surprising Ned. "How is your son?...My lord."

He looked at her steadily. "I don't know, boy. There is no news of him."

One man spat on the ground. "That's for the Lannisters. May the Others take them." Many more voiced their agreement.

"There's trouble ahead on the road," Ned told them in a serious tone. "Might be we run into outlaws. We'll guard the wagons and protect ourselves. We stick together and we'll be fine, so no one take it in his head to run off. They'll just find you and kill you anyways. Better to die with steel in your hands and your enemy's blood on that steel."

"We ain't soldiers. Most of us don't know how to fight," said one older man.

Ned nodded. "Aye. Best we do something about that. I trained more than a few men to fight so I can give you some lessons. First one is…"

"Stick him with the pointy end," said Arya with a grin and everyone chuckled.

Ned beamed at her, unable to help himself. "Aye, right you are lad. But there's more to it than that. Just hope I have time to teach you."

He saw some of them looked worried so he needed to buck up their moral. "Most outlaws will shy away from a large group of armed men. They're looking for easy pickings. But if we meet any groups of soldiers, from any army, say nothing, do nothing. Let Yoren and me do the talking."

They all agreed and then Yoren and Gendry came back. "Time to get on the road. Let's move," Yoren ordered and soon they were getting ready to move out.

Rorge in the cage yelled at Hot Pie to give them some hot cakes and after a look to Yoren who nodded yes, Hot Pie took them over some hot cakes. Rorge and Biter snatched one each from his hands and eagerly ate. Jaqen H'ghar politely thanked him before chewing on the cake and then praised his cooking skills.

Soon the fires were stamped out and the wagons loaded, the horses and donkeys mounted, and they were on the road again. Yoren asked the hunter with the bow to ride out a bit and see what was ahead of them. As the morning grew old Yoren fell asleep in the wagon while Ned sat watching the countryside go by, keeping an eye on the column and on the road ahead as well. More than once they met people coming south and all said the same thing - turn around. Towards noon the hunter came back with news that there was a group of about fifteen men on foot about a mile ahead. They were armed with axes, hoes, and cudgels. Ned awoke Yoren and the party prepared for possible combat. Ned suddenly realized he had no weapon so Yoren gave him his dagger.

The group of men came over a rise on a hill and then stopped and seemed to be discussing what to do. Soon they were walking down the road towards the column, eyeing them carefully.

Yoren called a halt and ordered everyone to draw out their weapons. The group of men eyed them warily and moved off the road as they passed, keeping their distance, especially after they saw the few bows the Night's Watch recruits had. They were a mixed bunch of boys and men, and they were mostly in rags and had poor weapons. No one said a word and soon they were far behind them.

Yoren spat in the road after they had started moving again. "Scum. That lot will cause trouble for poor folks down the road."

"Aye. Maybe we should have done something about them."

Yoren shook his head. "We'd have beat them but we might have lost a few. You sure you want to be fighting with that leg and…well…"

My daughter at my side, was the unsaid thing, Ned knew. "No. You're right. A foolish notion. Best to avoid any fights."

After a while they entered a forested area, and had to cross many streams and brooks, most with small wooden bridges across them. At noon they halted and had a quiet lunch of bread and cold bacon and cheese, washed down with beer and water. The rest of the day was cool under the forest and the road soon narrowed and more and more folks were heading south, none as dangerous looking as the group of cutthroats they had passed. Many hours later the road widened some and they came upon a large stream and a stone inn with a waterwheel attached and several low lying outbuildings.

"Halt!" Yoren yelled down the column. He stood in the wagon. "We stop here for the night. I don't have enough coin for rooms but we can get a good meal inside and they have good ale. There's a bathhouse if any man wants a wash. Any man gets drunk and tries to run away or cause trouble gets put in the cage with the other three."

Rorge yelled through the bars. "You fucking black crow! Let us out to take a bath!"

"The first bath you'll get is at the Wall," Yoren told him. "And it'll be so cold you'll wish you'd never been born." Rorge cursed him as Yoren laughed and went in the inn.

The inn had a large common room with many tables and benches and a large stone fireplace with a roaring fire over which a large pot of stew was cooking. The innkeeper was a red-faced portly fellow with a jolly manner and a wide grin. He invited them in and seemed to know Yoren from previous visits. Soon they were seated at tables and had mugs of strong ale and bowls of mutton stew with bits of carrot, potato, and onion in it. Ned found himself seated with Yoren not far from Arya and the other boys. The innkeeper soon joined them. Yoren did not introduce Ned and the innkeeper did not ask for his name as he filled them in on the news he heard, which was pretty much the same as they heard the night before.

Ned was barely listening as he kept an ear on what Arya was up to. Lommy and Hot Pie went on about how they almost had a fight and Hot Pie said he was not afraid and would like to get in a fight. Arya laughed at him and said he had almost filled his pants when those men had walked by them this morning. Hot Pie yelled back at her and soon they were making jests and arguing across the table, adding to the din in the crowded inn. Gendry did not take part in their banter and stared off as he sipped his ale.

"I'm going to take a bath," Hot Pie said after a while.

"Don't forget to clean your pants," Arya teased him.

Hot Pie's face flushed. "If you didn't have that sword, I'd, I'd…"

"Piss off and take your bath," Gendry said to him in a mean tone. Hot Pie gaped at him and then started to leave.

"Wait for me," Lommy said, as he drained his ale and stood. Soon Gendry and Arya were alone.

"You shouldn't call a man a coward," Gendry said to her.

"Why not? He is a coward. You saw the look on his face."

"Not all men are brave."

"I am," Arya said back.

Gendry scoffed. "Right." And he drank more ale.

"I am too brave!"

"But you're not a…"

"Gendry!" Ned said to him, cutting him off before he said something foolish.

"Yes, my lord?"

"Lord? Who's a lord?" the innkeeper said, his eyes wide.

Yoren sighed. "This is Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell."

"Lord…Stark?" the innkeeper said a bit too loudly.

"Keep your voice down," Yoren said. But it was too late, everyone who was not in Yoren's group was looking over at them.

Just then the door to the inn burst open and one of the recruits came in. "Yoren!" he said, panting, out of breath. "There's a party of gold cloaks outside. Six of them."

"What's that got to do with us?" Yoren asked calmly.

"They're looking for someone."

"Who?"

"Him," said the recruit and he pointed at Gendry.