Chapter 20 Gendry

(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!)

Gendry tripped and fell and in an instant the sword was at his throat. "Now you are dead," she told him and then Arya Stark laughed and bent to give him a hand to get up. Instead he used his great strength to drag her down, but she quickly rolled away from him and was up, crouched low, with her wooden practice sword in front of her.

"No cheating," she said, but she wasn't angry, he could tell, and had a grin on her face. "Come on, get up, let's practice."

Gendry sat there and shook his shaggy black locks out of his eyes. "I've had enough. You win." He was sore all over and he knew he would soon be covered in more bruises. Every day she wanted to practice and was far better than he was. He could have easily taken the wooden sword out of her hands, but in a real fight with a real sword he would cut his hands to ribbons if he tried that.

Arya relaxed her stance and sat on the ground next to him. It was late in the afternoon, almost supper time, and they were in a clearing by a small stream in the Riverlands, somewhere near the Blue Fork. At least Gendry thought they were, because he had heard a soldier say that when they had stopped to make camp. All around them was the Stark army. Men were watering their horses in the stream, patrols were on the far bank, many tents were set up not far away, and the smell of cooking fires and the stench only a mass of mostly unwashed humans and their animals could make hung over everything. For two days they had marched, heading northeast towards the Twins. After Arya and Sansa had been reunited with their mother they spent three days waiting for word from Riverrun about the gold that Tywin Lannister had promised. Arya's brother had refused to move his army until he got word of the gold payment. Patrols also came back saying that most of the Lannister host had left Harrenhal. More patrols confirmed they must have gone south. Except for the garrison at Harrenhal, there was no mass of Lannister soldiers between the ruby ford of the Trident and Riverrun.

During that time they waited there was much activity in the Stark camp. Gendry was handed off to the master smith, a big man from Barrowton named Cletus who had two boy apprentices with him and was glad for a third, especially one who had trained with the great Master Mott of King's Landing. Gendry spent his days repairing armor and pumping the bellows and shoveling coal in the small forge that traveled with the army. He slept in a small tent with the other two boys. One was a blond boy of about twelve years of age named Timon, who wanted to be called Tim. He was funny and smiled a lot. The other was a sullen lad of about thirteen who had brown hair and whose name was Wilbert. Gendry tried to call him 'Will' but the boy had scowled and said he was Wilbert, not Will. Right away Gendry got the idea he was jealous, because Gendry was older and bigger and stronger knew more about armor than he did. Tim knew even less, and mainly pumped the bellows and shoveled coal and did what Master Cletus said to do.

Gendry ate with the master and the others, but while in camp in the morning after the first day, which she had spent mostly with her mother, Arya came to find him and she wanted to practice fighting. Master Cletus protested that first time, saying they had work to do, but when he realized the short boy with short hair was actually Lord Stark's daughter he gave Gendry permission to go off for an hour. That even brought more scowls from Wilbert.

After three days they started to march again, and there was no time to practice in the mornings so they did it when they stopped to make camp in the evening. Arya told him that she heard some of the gold had been paid, and also some high born lords on each side had been ransomed so her brother and father and the other lords decided it was time to move. That first day, there was a flurry of activity as the Stark host broke camp. Gendry helped load the forge and heavy anvil and all their tools in a wagon pulled by four strong draft horses. Master Cletus drove it, and the other two boys sat in the back. Gendry was given a riding horse by Lord Stark, which he rode alongside of the wagon. After an hour on the first day of the march Arya found him and rode alongside for most of the day. When they stopped she had her meals with her family, and slept in a tent with Sansa and the other girl, Jeyne, the one Ned Stark had wanted Gendry to make a match with. She was pretty enough, and closer to his age, but she was not for him.

Arya never talked about what had happened in Harrenhal between them in her room, but from the way her father talked to him, Gendry got the idea maybe she had some feelings for him as well. He was afraid to bring it up with her, worried she might misunderstand, or that he had misunderstood her father. She had said they should pretend it had never happened so he let it be. Besides, she was with her family now and he wanted to do nothing to cause them to get mad at him. Gendry had to wait for her to find him each day if he wanted to spend time with her, and he knew better than to approached her when she was with her family. He hadn't had words with her mother Catelyn Stark yet, but Ned Stark had visited him at the forge to ask how he was. Then on the first evening after the march began Arya's brother Robb came to where they had set up the forge.

The sun was slowly setting toward the horizon. Gendry had been repairing some chain mail and the others were doing various tasks. Robb Stark came up to them with four strong looking men behind him, no doubt his guards, Gendry thought.

"My lord," Gendry and the others said as they stopped their work and dipped their heads.

"I would like to have words with you Gendry," Robb said and then walk away without waiting for a reply, so Gendry put down his tools and hurried after him.

They moved behind the forge wagon and his guards kept a distance while they talked. Robb Stark was his age, maybe a bit older, and was shorter than Gendry but not by much. He had the auburn hair of his mother and looked more like her than his father and Arya. Gendry also knew this was the man who had captured the Kingslayer and had outwitted Tywin Lannister, so he was quite in awe of him.

"How are you?" Robb asked him and that surprised Gendry.

"Fine, my lord."

"Good, that's good," Robb replied and Gendry thought he actually looked like he was uncomfortable about something. "So, my father tells me you are coming to Winterfell with us."

"Yes, my lord."

"He speaks highly of you."

Now Gendry flushed. "He's been very kind to me."

"I know who you are," Robb suddenly said. "My father and your father were great friends for many years."

"I've heard, my lord."

"Did you know I have a half-brother, Jon Snow?"

"Arya told me. He's at the Wall, she said."

"Aye," Robb said. "My mother…she…she doesn't like Jon." Arya had not told him that. Gendry said nothing and waited for Robb to continue. "Because, well, you know who he is so I guess you know why she doesn't like him."

"Because he's like me, my lord?"

"Aye," Robb said and Gendry sensed a sadness there. "But he is my brother," he suddenly said in a fierce tone that surprised Gendry.

"That's good, my lord."

"Aye, it is. And now you are here and you are coming to Winterfell."

Gendry finally got what he was driving at. Another bastard in Winterfell.

"I won't go if it will cause trouble, my lord."

"No!" he said quickly. "You can come, my father promised you a place so you can come. But, this…friendship…with Arya…my mother has spoken of it and she is not pleased."

"I understand. But we are just friends."

Robb stared at him. "Arya is promised to another."

"Your father told me at Harrenhal."

"Has Arya spoken on it?"

"No, my lord."

"Well, just keep that in mind when we get to the Twins."

"I will, my lord."

"Good. I'll let you get back to your work." And with that he was gone.

Now, as Gendry sat beside Arya on the banks of the small stream, he wondered why she had not yet mentioned she was promised to a Frey boy.

"You have to move faster," she was saying to him. "You fight like a Westerosi knight. You are hacking and slashing and I can avoid it easily. You need to be a water dancer. Syrio says speed is more important than strength."

"I'm too big to be fast," Gendry told her. "All I have is strength."

She was looking at his bare fore arms, now covered in bruises from her whacks and scars from small burn marks from years at the forge. "Strong enough to lift the anvil all by yourself over your head?" she asked him.

"I can lift it, but not that high," he replied. "I know I could lift you and carry you over my head."

Arya laughed and he liked her laugh. There hadn't been much time for laughter before she rejoined her family. She turned and looked over her shoulder and her face fell a bit. "They might tell my mother if you did that."

Gendry turned and saw who she was looking at. About fifty feet away by some trees stood two Stark men at arms, wearing chain mail, and carrying shields, short swords, and spears. Robb had assigned them to guard Arya, she told Gendry, and despite her protests they followed her everywhere. Sansa had guards as well and Robb and her parents had said that after all they had been through they wanted no harm to come to them. Not that they needed them much. Within a hundred feet of where they sat Gendry saw many more men, on both sides of the small stream, and around them was another 17,000, if the numbers he heard were true.

"Yes, they would tell her," Gendry said to her comment about the guards. "Your mother doesn't like me, does she?"

"That's because she doesn't know you," Arya instantly replied as she plucked a blade of grass from the ground and twirled it in her fingers.

"No, it's because I'm a bas…"

"Don't!"

"All right. Because I am low born."

Arya rolled her eyes. "It's stupid, all their rules about who was born to who and who was married or not married. High born, low born, what's the difference! My mother knows you are the son of a king! How can you be low born?"

"A son the king never said was his."

"It's not fair," Arya told him. "You could have grown up in a castle, and had a wonderful life and now you would be king."

Gendry gave a short laugh. "I'm glad that never happened. If Stannis' army gets to King's Landing before Lord Tywin's the King might lose his head."

She shook her head. "No. If you had been Robert's first son no one would say you didn't belong on the throne. Stannis would have no reason to attack. There would be no war."

He hadn't thought of that. "Could be," he said. "But he never said I was his and so that's it."

"That's it," Arya repeated and then she sighed. "If only, many other things could be so different."

"What other things?" he asked. What was she talking about now?'

She scowled at him. "Things! About you and...oh, never mind!"

"Explain it. Don't get mad at me just cause I'm a stupid smith."

"You're not stupid!"

"Okay. But I still need you to explain what you mean by other things being different."

She leaned back on her hands and stared at the stream and was silent for a moment. "This must go into the Blue Fork," she said. "And north of the Blue Fork is the Green Fork and the Twins."

"I guess." Gendry had a rough idea of the geography of the realm but did not know it exactly. What was she talking about this for?

"I have to tell you something," she said suddenly.

Now he understood. Maybe she was finally going to tell him about the promise they made for her to marry a Frey boy. "I'm listening."

"When we get to the Twins…something's going to happen. I don't want you to be mad. Cause…cause…" But she couldn't say it and then stood and picked up her sword. "Forget it. Let's go."

Gendry stood with his wooden sword in hand and looked at her and decided to tell her so she would not think on it so much later. "I know already," he said quietly. "Your father told me at Harrenhal."

That surprised her. "He did?"

"Yes. You are betrothed to one of the Freys."

She sighed and kicked the ground. "I hate it. All for a stupid bridge."

"What?" This part he hadn't heard. She quickly explained.

"It sounds like they had no choice," Gendry told her.

"That's what they all said to me. They had to have the bridge to beat the Lannisters. And the price was Robb and me," Arya said and then she got an angry look on her face. "I won't marry a Frey. I'll kill him first!"

"You can't do that." He looked around to make sure no one had heard her, a worried look on his face.

"Why not?" she asked, and he shook his head.

"It will be nothing but trouble. Look, your father said…he said winter is coming. He said there would be no wedding for three or four years at least. Till you're a woman and spring comes."

"I know. He said the same to me," Arya told him. Then she laughed a bit. "Maybe the Frey boy will get kicked by a horse or fall in the river."

"Could be," Gendry said. Then he wondered if it was wrong to hope someone got hurt so she wouldn't have to marry him. "Whatever happens, I am sure it will all turn out for the best. Three or four years is a long time. Like you said, anything could happen. Come on, let's get back to the camp. I've got work to do."

But she stopped him. "You're not mad that I am betrothed?"

"Why should I be mad?"

"Cause…cause…of what you said in Harrenhal. In my room. When we had breakfast."

Gods, she wanted to talk about that. Gendry felt a flush creep up his face. "I thought we agreed to pretend that never happened."

"I know…but…it did happen."

He nodded. "I know. I'm sorry about that, and…"

But she interrupted him. "Why are you sorry? You said how you felt. Not exactly, but I understood. I know you like me. I mean, as friends yes, but also as…the way boys like girls. Right?"

"That's what I meant," he said in a quiet tone, knowing it was wrong, but not able to help himself. Gods, what had she done to him?

"Then what is there to be sorry about? You don't like me anymore?" She had that fierce look in her eyes and he knew she was getting mad.

"No, not that," he quickly told her

"Oh," she said and the fire went out of her eyes. "Good."

"Good?" Is she saying what I think she is saying?

She looked down at the ground. "Good, because…no one's ever liked me like that before." And then she looked up at him and this time the look in her eyes was very different. "I know I am still just a girl and you're almost a grown man and I'm high born and all that but…Gendry…I don't want to pretend that never happened any more."

Gendry felt his heart pounding and now he knew his face must be quite red. She was waiting for him to say something. "Neither do I. But…" Her eyes had lit up when he said that and he liked the look and he didn't want it to go away so he couldn't voice his objections. So she did for him.

"I know," she said as her face fell a bit. "We have to go on pretending in front of the others, especially my family. But we know, don't we? And that's all that matters, isn't it?"

"Yes," he said, feeling so happy. He wanted to do many things then, but knew he couldn't, not yet. It was crazy and somewhere inside he still knew it was wrong but he would wait, he would be patient and if he was careful maybe someday they wouldn't have to pretend they didn't care for each other anymore.

She was staring at him, smiling, looking at him with what could only be affection. Then she laughed and punched his arm again and it was if they had never had this conversation. "Come on, race you back to camp."

The next morning Gendry awoke to the sound of thundering hoof beats. He was in his small tent with the other two boys, when the noise woke them all. Bleary eyed, Gendry peered out and saw a mass of cavalry pouring though the camp, heading and moving across the nearby small stream. Gendry crawled out of the tent. For a moment he thought they were under attack and he was thinking of finding a weapon but then he realized they were all Stark bannermen. In their midst was the big one they called the Greatjon, bellowing to his men.

"Move your arses!" he yelled. "We got foes to kill! If we're late the ironmen will rape your daughters and burn your homesteads!"

"What's happening?" little Tim asked as he came out of the tent, with Wilbert beside him.

"War," said sullen Wilbert. "More war is all."

"He said ironmen," Gendry told them. "What's an ironman?"

Wilbert grunted. "Don't you know?"

"He's a southerner, so course he doesn't know," said Master Cletus as he came up to them. "Ironmen are from the Iron Islands, lad. Raiders, plunderers, rapists. I just heard that a rider came in the night from the Twins. Said the ironmen are at Moat Cailin."

"No!" said Tim in fright. "We'll never get home now!"

"Why not?" Gendry asked and Wilbert guffawed.

"Moat Cailin blocks the north end of the Neck," he said, speaking as if Gendry was stupid. Gendry wanted to smash him in the face but kept calm, having no wish to cause any trouble.

"Aye," said Cletus. "If they got Moat Cailin, we'll have to take it back before we can march home."

In half an hour, after a hasty breakfast, the rest of the army was up and on the march again. They moved fast this time, faster than before and must have made over ten leagues that day, and all were foot sore and saddle sore by day's end. He saw Robb and Ned Stark more than once riding along the column, urging them along, saying encouraging words. They stopped only for fifteen minutes to distribute bread and cold meat for lunch and then were on the move again. Rumors spread during the day and late in the evening when they finally made camp. Some said the ironmen were at a place called the Stony Shore. Others said they were at Seagard. Still more rumors said Moat Cailin had fallen.

That night they made camp late and for the first time in days Arya did not come to see him. As they ate their supper of bread and pease and boiled mutton, Gendry kept looking for her and she was nowhere to be seen. As the sun was setting Wilbert looked at him across the fire they sat around and snorted. "Your princess is not coming, is she?"

"She's not a princess," Tim said. "She's a lady."

"She doesn't like to be called either," Gendry told them, staring at Wilbert, wanting nothing more than to smash him in the face again.

"How you two end up being so friendly?" Wilbert asked. "You're just a commoner like us."

"We came from King's Landing together," Gendry told him. "We fought at the holdfast by Gods Eye. She saved my life."

Tim was wide-eyed. "How?"

"She killed a man that was trying to kill me."

"That little girl killed a man?" Wilbert scoffed. "What a pack of lies."

Gendry felt a rage come over him but forced himself to stay calm. "I don't care what you believe, you little shit. You know I'm a better armorer than you and you also know I could break your neck if I wanted." Now Wilbert was wide-eyed as well. "But I won't, cause that would cause trouble. You don't like me and I don't like you, so let's leave it at that. But push me too hard and maybe I won't care if I cause any trouble. And if you ever call me a liar again, I'll pound you with my fist so hard you'll sing like the steel does when I hit it."

After that Tim and Wilbert said nothing and Gendry got up and walked away, needing space to clear his head. He went though the camp, past many fires, and past the horse lines and supply wagons and just walked, not saying a word to anyone. Some men knew who he was now, having brought their armor to be repaired, and called for him to join their fires, but he just kept walking, feeling his anger slowly leave him. He knew he was strong and he could break that little shit's neck but that was not a good thing to do.

As Gendry walked he suddenly heard a girl's voice. He stopped behind a wagon and some tents and then heard the talking coming from one of the tents, where there was a light inside and the shadows of people on the canvas.

"How we will ever get home now?" said one voice.

"You'll see. Father and Robb will kill all those ironmen." It was Arya.

"Won't this ever end?" said another voice and then he guessed that was Sansa. The first speaker must have been Jeyne.

"You!" suddenly said a strong, harsh voice behind him. "What are you doing here?" It was a Stark guard.

"Got lost," Gendry said quickly as the man waved his spear at him. "Trying to find my way back to my tent.

"Who are you?" said a second man at arms, his sword out and pointed at Gendry.

"He's the smith!" Arya said sharply as she approached with Sansa and Jeyne behind her. "Leave him be!"

"Yes, my lady," said the one with the spear as he pulled it back and then the two guards walked off a bit but stayed nearby.

"What are you doing here?" Sansa asked him, and behind her Jeyne was looking at him the way she always did, as if she wanted to eat him. They were both wearing dresses and Gendry always felt awkward in front of high born ladies all dressed up.

"Got lost, my lady," he said, feeling very embarrassed, looking down.

"Really?" Sansa said as if she didn't believe him. "Or were you looking for my sister?" she asked next with a knowing look.

"Oh, shut up!" Arya told her sister. "He got lost. So what? Leave him be. Come on Gendry, I'll walk back with you."

"No," said a new voice from the growing darkness and then Catelyn Stark stepped toward them. "Go to your tent girls. Gendry, you come with me. It's time we talked."

Oh, boy, now he was in for it. "Yes, my lady," was all he could mumble and as he walked past Arya to follow her mother Arya looked at him in worry and then Sansa was dragging her back to their tent.

Gendry followed Lady Stark to a very large tent. Outside it were two guards with spears and swords. She opened the tent flap and went inside and then motioned for him to join her. Inside there were several lit candles and he got a good look at her as she sat at a small table. She had long auburn hair and fine features and Gendry could see that Sansa took after her like Arya took after her father. He stood waiting for her to speak first.

"First," she began. "I want to thank you."

Nothing could have surprised him more. "Sorry, my lady?"

"For helping Arya on the journey from King's Landing."

"I only did as your lord husband asked me to."

"Yes," she said. "But nonetheless I thank you. Now, tell me what happened."

"On the trip to Harrenhal you mean, my lady?"

"Yes, tell me it all, don't leave anything out. My husband and Arya have told me some things but I feel they are trying to shelter me from the worst of it. I would know the truth."

And so he began, telling her as much as he could remember, answering her questions as she asked them. Then when he got to the holdfast battle, he faltered and could not say it all.

"Tell me true," she said, her eyes boring into him. "Did Arya kill a man?"

He paused, took a deep breath and then told her. "Yes," he said quietly. "She saved my life."

She sighed heavily and closed her eyes for a long moment. "Lord Stark mentioned this, but not directly. But I dared hope it was not true."

"It's true. We all killed, those who survived. We had to, my lady."

Then her face turned hard. "They were looking for you."

"Yes. And Lord Stark."

She nodded. "Yes. But Joffrey wanted you."

"Yes. Joffrey wants me dead."

"Because you're Robert Baratheon's bastard son."

The way she said it made it sound ten times worse than it was. Her look was like stone and her words were harsh. "Yes, my lady. Lord Stark says so and I believe him."

"Tell me the rest," she then demanded. When he got to the part about the village and burying Lommy she stopped him.

"Arya helped you bury this boy?"

"Yes, my lady. Lord Stark said some words over the grave."

"Gods," she said in anger. "What a thing for children to have to do."

He said nothing and then she asked him to continue and he told her about Harrenhal and how Arya had breakfast with him most days and helped at the armory.

"Not things a young lady should be doing," Arya's mother said.

"I know. But…she wanted to come. I couldn't refuse her, my lady."

"Or you didn't want to refuse her?"

He gulped again. "Maybe. Yes. My lady." He couldn't look at her and cast his eyes away.

"My daughter Sansa told me Arya has taken a fancy to you. My husband says you are just friends. Which is it?"

There it was. Now he was in for it. "Ah…not sure…I…"

"Don't lie to me," she said sharply. "Which is it?"

He wanted to lie, but if he did and she already knew the truth and was testing him, he was finished. "I…she…yes, we have some affection for each other. My lady."

She shook her head. "This won't do."

His heart sank. "I know she is betrothed."

"Yes. To a Frey boy." The way she said this last he thought she didn't like it any more than Arya did. "She will meet him for the first time at the Twins. It's important that this meeting go well. The ironmen are attacking Moat Cailin and the Stony Shore. There are other troubles in the north. It's important that we move as fast as we can. For that we need Walder Frey's bridge. My husband says we have more than enough men to take the Twins, but it would be costly. And a quarter of our force is bannermen to the Twins. So…we need that bridge, without a fight."

"I understand, my lady."

"Arya is strong willed," Lady Stark said with a sigh. "She always has been. She carries that sword around, she dresses like a boy, and now she has eyes for you. She doesn't want to marry the Frey boy, but it may come to it eventually."

"I know."

"Or it may never happen."

Gendry said nothing, just waited for her to continue and then she looked at him and he could see the anger in her face and she said what he feared she would say. "But know this. She will never marry you. If you have any notions of that get them out of your head this instant. My husband promised you a spot in Winterfell and you shall have it. But I will not have a bastard marry my daughter and sully my home."

Gendry's heart sank to his feet and he gritted his teeth and kept all he wanted to say inside. She was Lady Catelyn Stark of Winterfell. He was nobody, just a bastard of a drunkard.

"What's this?" said a voice and then Ned Stark was in the tent. He looked tired and was dressed in chain mail and had a long sword at his side, with his big sword Ice strapped to his back. Now Lady Stark looked like she had been caught doing something she shouldn't have.

"We've just been talking, my lord," Gendry said quickly. "Your wife wanted to know about our trip from King's Landing."

"Aye?" he said, looking from one to the other. "And what did you tell her?"

"Everything, my lord," he said.

"Aye. Everything." There was an awkward silence.

"I should be going, my lord. My lady." And then Catelyn Stark nodded and Gendry turned without another word and went out into the cool air. He walked and walked, his mind a whirl and before he knew it he arrived where the forge was and his tent, and she was waiting for him, by the wagon.

"What did she say to you?" Arya asked right away as they walked behind the wagon.

What could he say to her? He had to lie. "She asked about our trip from King's Landing, is all."

"Oh. What did you tell her?"

"Everything."

"Everything?" she repeated. "Even that I killed someone?"

"Yes."

"Oh…okay."

"Sorry."

"No…I should have told her myself. But I couldn't."

He leaned against the wagon and she did the same. "Do you ever feel bad for killing those men?" he asked her.

"No," Arya instantly replied. "They wanted to kill us. We had no choice."

"No, we didn't."

"We almost died," she said and he sensed some fear there but said nothing about it.

They were silent for a minute. And then he felt her hand reach out and take his right hand and squeeze it tight. Her hand was small and warm and felt good. But he also knew they shouldn't be doing this. "Arya…"

"Just for a moment," she said quietly leaning against the wagon looking up at him in the half light given by the moon and nearby camp fires. Now both of her hands were on his. "Your hands are so rough," she said as she squeezed tight. "And strong."

"Hard work since I was a boy."

"Gendry…" she started to say and then she let go of his hands and reached up and pulled on his shirt and dragged him down and she quickly kissed him, once, quickly, on the lips, and it was soft and warm and nice, and then it was done and he was terrified, because he knew at that moment he would do everything he could to make sure what Catelyn Stark commanded of him would never come true.

"I…I just wanted to do that," she was saying. "Just once. I...I never kissed a boy before. I don't want to die without knowing what it was like."

He couldn't help but smile. "So? What was it like?"

She smiled, too. "I want to do it again. But…"

"We shouldn't."

"Right." She went to punch his arm like she usually did…but then she stopped. "Good night."

Arya turned and walked away and then looked back at him, laughed once and then turned and ran.

"Gods!" he said out loud as he sank to the ground by the wagon. How had this happened to him? It was madness, he knew, but it also felt right, despite what her mother had said to him.

They were up early the next day and again they were pushed hard. The land was hilly, and damp, and there were many small brooks and streams, which Master Cletus said ran into the Blue Fork. These were its head waters. And so progress was slow, and they barley covered half the distance of the previous day, but by the end of it the land was getting drier and flatter and they knew they were past the Blue Fork headwaters. Ahead and to the northwest was Seagard and early the next morning those men from Seagard with the army left to go to their homes, to make sure no ironmen were raiding their lands. Many hundreds left, Gendry guessed, but he knew not how many.

As they pushed on ahead, the baggage train at the rear kept falling behind. The forge wagon was here, mixed in with the cobbler's and leather worker's wagon, and the butcher's wagon, and the baker's wagon with its two mobile ovens. Also there were many supply wagons and at least a hundred pigs, thirty cows, and a few goats and many chickens in cages on wagons. A rear guard of twenty cavalry men and three knights brought up the rear. But the whole group kept falling behind as a wagon got stuck here, or some pigs ran off there, or the way was too muddy or the trail hard to follow.

By midday, Gendry and Arya were riding along beside the forge wagon on its right side, with her two guards nearby on horse back and Tim and Wilbert sitting on the back of the wagon as Master Cletus drove it. They were on a trail in a small stretch of forest. There was no one ahead of them and behind about thirty yards was the butcher's wagon. The whole column was strung out on the line of march.

"I smell the sea," Gendry said suddenly and there was a salty taste in the air.

"What?" Arya said as she sniffed the air. "Maybe. But we're not that close to Seagard."

"I don't know. It smells like the sea and rotten fish, like the wharves at the Mud Gate at King's…GET DOWN!" Gendry yelled and then as he yelled he reached over and pulled her down and they both fell from their horses into the mud of the trail. Just as she was about to scream at him in anger, the sound of arrow bows twanging came from both sides of the trail. Gendry looked up and saw Wilbert get an arrow in the chest and fall off the wagon without a sound. Master Cletus got one in the left arm and he fell of the wagon on the other side and little Tim ducked to the floor of the wagon just in time to avoid one aimed for him. Then their two horses took off running up the trail.

"Get up! Get Up!" he shouted at Arya and in an instant she rolled to her feet and had Needle out and his heavy hammer was off his belt and in his hand.

From both sides of the trail came war cries and then men were attacking, large men, with beards and carrying heavy axes and swords, dress in grey clothing of some type and chain mail. On their chests was some kind of sigil but Gendry knew not what it was or cared. Behind them he saw Arya's two guards in trouble. One had an arrow sticking out of his armor and the two of them were surrounded by at least four attackers.

"Ironmen!" Arya yelled and then they were on them. Arya and Gendry had their backs to the wagon, the same wagon where she had kissed him the night before, but now they were in a battle for their lives. A large man charged and screamed his war cry. He swung his axe and it just missed Gendry's head as he ducked and it stuck in the wooden wagon side. As he struggled to remove it Gendry swung his hammer hard and smashed in the ironman's face and the man fell with a gargled scream. Arya had taken on another ironman with a sword who laughed at her.

"Little boy, put away your steel or you will die!"

"I'm not a boy!" she yelled and stabbed him deep in the leg above the knee where he had no armor. The man yelled and hopped away as dark red blood spurted from his leg. He tried to fight back but his leg buckled and he fell. Then another attacker was there. Gendry had ripped the first one's axe out of the wagon and swung it but the ironman facing him deflected it neatly with his shield and the axe was knocked from his hand. Then he was on Gendry, swinging his own axe. But as he raised his axe arm Arya stabbed him in the arm pit from the side and Needle made a small hole in the chain mail, not very deep, but enough so he screamed and dropped his axe. Then Gendry tackled him and they both went down and Gendry swung his hammer hard and buried it in his face and this man would rise no more.

Now the battle fever was on him and the screams of men and horses and the sound of clashing steel rang out down the trail. The whole baggage train was under attack. He felt sudden pain and something was in his right shoulder and he saw an arrow had entered at a glancing blow, not going deep, but punching through his shirt and under his flesh, drawing blood. He did not know if it had happened at the beginning or just now. He ripped the arrow out and then he saw Arya dueling with two of them. She was so fast, dipping and sliding away, and jabbing while they were hacking and missing and then she was between them and past them and she stabbed one behind the left leg and the other in the exposed throat as he turned. Both men yelled in pain and fell and she was on them lightning fast, stabbing anywhere there was no armor. But all of a sudden a third man charged from around the front of the wagon and was behind her and he had a massive axe and he was bigger than any of them. The axe was over his head and coming down and Arya didn't see him. Gendry cried out and leaped and smash his hammer down on the ironman's iron helm. It stunned him badly and he dropped his axe. Then the two of them fell on each other and were wrestling on the ground and neither had room to use any weapon so it was a contest of strength. Gods, he was strong and his arms were reaching to choke Gendry but Gendry smashed his big right forearm into his face and the blow staggered the man. Gendry pushed him off and then Gendry was on top and he smashed him again and again with his fists until the man was not moving anymore. Then a piece of steel flash by his eyes and Arya had buried Needle in the man's left eye and he would never move again.

Gendry stood next to Arya and they looked around for more enemies and two more were on the trail ahead of them, both with bows and arrows notched. Just as they got ready to fire came a yell of "Winterfell!" and horse hooves were pounding and Ned Stark was charging on his horse, his sword in hand, a grim look on his face and he was hacking and slashing at the two bowmen who had no chance to fire their arrows before they died. Arya dragged Gendry off the trail and then her father was riding fast past them and he kept on going and more men on horseback followed him down the trail and for many minutes they heard the sound of battle.

Gendry and Arya looked at each other with wide eyes and then they looked and saw the carnage around them where only minutes before it had been a peaceful forest trail. At least six ironmen were dead by their hand. As the battle fever left him Gendry felt the agony in his shoulder and he realized blood was pouring out of his arrow wound. Then Arya's brother Robb and many more men rode up.

"Arya!" her brother yelled. "Are you hurt?"

It was a fair question. She had blood on her in many spots. "No," she yelled back right away. "Father went down the trail! Go help him!"

"With me!" Robb yelled and then he and his riders rode off hard down the trail.

Suddenly, Arya realized Gendry was hurt. "You're bleeding!" She helped him to the back of the wagon where they found little Tim cowering.

"Is it over?" he asked in a whimper.

"Yes," Gendry said. "Here at least."

"Get me something to help stop the bleeding!" Arya shouted at Tim. The boy scrambled around and found a shirt and gave it to her.

"It's Wilbert's," he said, and then he looked over the side of the wagon. "Wilbert's dead."

"Where's Cletus?" Gendry asked as Arya pressed the wadded up shirt on his wound.

"I'm here," said Cletus in a weak voice, as he stood on the other side of the wagon. Gendry looked and at Cletus' feet were two dead ironmen, each one looking like his head had been caved in with a hammer blow. If Cletus hadn't been behind them they would have been overwhelmed. Cletus had an arrow in his left arm but then Gendry saw a more terrible wound in his stomach, and blood was pouring out.

"Arya, help him!"

She helped Cletus get in the wagon and he lay down and let out a groan of agony. Then more people were running down the trial, many Stark spearmen and other foot soldiers. But they didn't go far because soon Ned Stark and his son were riding back.

Ned Stark yelled at the foot soldiers "Check both sides of the trail. Kill any ironmen you find that resists." As they moved to obey his commands, Ned Stark and his son leaped off their horses and ran to Arya.

"Are you hurt?" her father asked as he bent to her, his face full of worry. "Are you wounded?"

"Not my blood," she said as she continued to help Gendry.

"Gods," Robb said as he looked around them at the dead ironmen. Arya's two guards were also dead, but they had killed at least two more ironmen before falling. "What happened?" Arya's brother asked them

"Gendry smelled the sea," she told them.

"I…thought it was the sea," Gendry said as he winced in pain. "It must have been them."

"Aye," said Ned as he looked at one of the dead men. "Ironmen. Salt and iron in their blood. How did they attack?"

"I saw one, with a bow, beside a tree, up the trail," Gendry said.

"Then he dragged me off my horse before the arrows came at us," Arya said. "Saved my life, he did."

"No, I…no."

"Yes, you did," she told him as she pressed the bandage into his shoulder. "You owed me. Now we're even."

"Who killed these men?" Robb asked.

"We did," Arya said and then Robb looked in awe at her sword at her side, full of blood and at the blood on her everywhere and on Gendry.

"Cletus is dead," said Tim in a sad voice. They all looked and saw he was right.

"Damn," Gendry swore. "He was a good man."

Ned Stark nodded. "Aye," he said and looked at Tim. "Cover him with something lad." Tim found a blanket and covered Cletus.

"How did this happen?" Robb yelled in despair.

"Because we were stupid," his father said grimly "We pushed too hard, and we left our weakest element behind. They must have come from near Seagard. But Seagard is a walled town. They came inland looking for easier pickings. Saw us, waited, watched, and then tried to pick off the weakest part."

As they stood there another man came riding up from back down the trail, one of the knights or lords, Gendry didn't know which one. Glover maybe.

"We have at least twenty-three dead and fifteen wounded, Lord Stark," he said. "And maybe six taken prisoner. All serving women and girls."

"Get a mounted party together," Ned Stark commanded at once. "They will head to the sea and their ships. Run them down and get back our people!"

"At once, my lord!" the man said and then rode off shouting orders.

Then some men came back from the forest dragging a wounded ironman with them. He was bleeding from his left arm. They forced him to his knees in front of the Starks.

"Who sent you?" Robb demanded.

"The King of the Iron Islands," the man said, full of pride and unafraid.

"Where is Theon Greyjoy?" Ned asked him quickly.

"Prince Theon you mean?" the man said with a laugh. "Came home from your green lands wearing skirts and gold trinkets he bought, so the men are saying in the taverns of Pyke. Of him, I know naught else except you Starks turned him into more a woman than a man."

"How many men with you?" Ned asked next, ignoring the insults.

"Piss on you Starks," the man said and that got him a blow to the head.

"Attacking our baggage and servants? Some brave lot you ironmen are," said Robb with a snarled.

"We take what we want," the prisoner growled back. "It is our way. We pay the iron price."

"Aye," replied Ned. "And we have traditions, too." He pulled Ice out of the big scabbard on his back and handed it to Robb. "You are the Lord of Winterfell now. Do your duty."

Robb nodded and took the big sword. He held it with two hands as they bent the prisoner to the ground. There was no chopping block so they lay him across the dead body of one his comrades.

"Look away," Ned said to Arya.

"No," she told him strongly and then he sighed and turned back to Robb and nodded once.

"I, Lord Robb Stark of Winterfell, condemn you to death for the crime of brigandage," Robb said to the prisoner. "Do you have any last words?"

"What is dead may never die!" the man screamed and then Ice rose and fell swiftly and the man screamed no more.

Robb cleaned Ice of the blood and then Ned handed him the scabbard. "It's yours to wear. Come, let's get these wagons off the trail. We should make camp up ahead for the night and sort out this mess."

Just as they started to prepare to go up the trail, a shout came from in front where many armed men were. "Let me through! My daughter is back here!"

The soldiers parted and there was Catelyn Stark, her face full of fury and fear, and then she saw the carnage around the wagon, and she gasped. Then her eyes fell on Arya, and the condition she was in and she ran right to her. "Are you hurt? Get the maester!"

"I'm not hurt," Arya said for the third time. For a brief moment Lady Stark seemed relieved but then she got angry. She glared at Arya. "You shouldn't even be here! You should be with us, surrounded by many guards." Then she glared at Gendry. "You…you, that's why she is here!"

What could he say? She was right. He was about to speak when Arya shouted at her mother. "He didn't attack me! He didn't try to kill me! I rode here because I wanted to! Beside, Gendry saved my life. Twice."

She looked surprised at this and turned from her daughter and looked at Gendry quickly and then to her husband.

"Aye," he said. "He pulled her off her horse before the first arrows came in on them."

"And he jumped one of them about to attack me from behind," Arya added.

Lady Stark was about to say more when Ned Stark put a hand on her arm. "She is fine, but others are not," he told his wife. "We can discuss this later. We have wounded, some worse than Gendry."

For the first time she saw Gendry was hurt and her eyes softened somewhat. "Is it bad?" she asked.

"Not too bad, my lady," Gendry said.

"Come on, let's move," Ned Stark said and then they loaded Wilbert's body and the two dead Stark men who had guarded Arya on the forge wagon and cleared the trail of dead ironmen. A soldier jumped on the wagon and took the reins and then they started moving.

When they reached the main force it was a hive of activity, with tents going up, wagons being unload and men moving everywhere to place guards and to make sure no ironmen were nearby. Gendry sat on the ground outside the maester's tent with the other wounded. He was not the worst by far. One man had lost his left hand and was white as a bed sheet. Another had two arrows sticking out of him. One man, the butcher Gendry thought, had a deep wound in his thigh and he had bled to death before they could get him to the maester. He lay on the ground outside the tent next to the bodies of Cletus and Wilbert and many others. Nearby four men were digging a big hole for the dead.

Arya stayed with him and would not leave despite her mother's demands she change her clothes and clean off the blood.

"No!" she shouted. "I'm not leaving till I know he is fine."

"Then the maester will see him now," Lady Stark declared.

"There's worse off than me, my lady," Gendry said and she saw he was right.

"Then I will lend a hand," she started firmly. With that she went into the maesters' tent.

"She's mad at you," he said to Arya.

"I don't care," she replied. "I'm not leaving you."

Just then Sansa and Jeyne arrived, carrying two wine skins with them. They both got one look at them, sitting on the ground, covered in bloody splotches, and Sansa's face blanched and then Jeyne gasped, dropped her wine skin and ran away.

"Gods, it's true," Sansa said in shock. "We were at the front of the column. I…I brought wine. I thought you might need it."

She handed them one skin and gave the other to some of the other wounded. Gendry took a long drink and it was sour but felt good going down. He handed the skin to Arya and she took a drink, made a face and then gave it back to him. "No more for me."

"What happened?" Sansa asked them as stood there.

They told her the story as best they could, and then she looked at Gendry's shoulder. "Is it bad?"

"No," he said and then the maester's assistant was calling for him. Arya and Sansa helped him stand and then led him to the tent. Sansa's bravery ended at the tent flap and she told him to take care and left them.

Inside it was like a slaughter house. The air was a heavy with the smell of blood and sweat. There was a table and the man with the two arrows in him was laying on it, groaning in pain. On the ground next to the table was a bucket with bloody rags in it. Blood was on the ground and Lady Stark, standing next to the maester, now had some blood on her hands and dress. The maester was a middle aged man with jet black hair and thick eyebrows. His chain wasn't very big but he was said to be skilled with battle wounds, having been a soldier once many years ago before he forged his chain. On a small table were the tools of his trade, many knives, a saw, some bottles and jars, and things that Gendry did not know were for.

"Sit there and take off your shirt," the maester told Gendry. There was a small chair near the entrance and Gendry sat. Arya helped him take off his shirt. "Don't throw it away," he told her. "I only have two."

At the table the maester was giving the wounded man a small cup with some milky substance. "Milk of the poppy," he told the man. "Now drink this up and I will be with you in a minute."

After the man drank it he sighed and then fell asleep. The maester came around and took a look at Gendry's wound.

"Not too deep," he said. "But it will need stitching or it will bleed more. First, some boiling wine to remove any corruption."

"Gods, do you have to?" Gendry asked in fear.

"Yes," said Arya and her mother at the same time. Gendry only nodded and took another long drink from the wine skin.

"That's good," said the maester. "Drink more, it will dull the pain. Lady Stark, it is time."

She went to the table and started to help the maester. In the corner of the tent Gendry now saw a small brazier with a kettle on it. "Boiling wine," he mumbled and drank some more.

"It will hurt, but it must be done," Arya said. "I'll be here, don't worry."

He drank again and nodded. Gods, he was getting drunk. He felt the wine moving through him. He never drank much in his life, and now he knew he was drunk. It felt good.

"When I take out the arrow, you must plug the wound right away," the maester was saying to Lady Stark.

"I understand," Lady Stark said. Then they set to work, pulling out arrows and patching the man up. More blood flowed down on the table and the floor.

"The wine is ready," said the maester's assistant.

"I'm busy, you do it," the maester told him.

The assistant took the kettle off the brazier and then approached Gendry.

"Give him some milk of the poppy," Arya demanded.

"I have little left," said the maester. "He will live without it."

"Arya," her mother said from the operating table. "Hold his hand. Tight."

"Yes," Arya said and she did so. Gendry turned his head away from his injured shoulder and then he looked at her and she looked at him, their eyes connected and then he felt the hot wine hit his skin and the raw open wound and nothing had been so painful in all his life, not any burn from the forge, and he couldn't help but scream. Arya squeeze his left hand and arm tight as tears sprang to his eyes and he gasped in pain.

"It's all over," she said in a soothing tone. "It's over." And then she lifted the wine skin to his lips and he eagerly drank some more.

"You will need stitching," the assistant said to Gendry as he wiped more blood away with a damp cloth.

"I can do it if you are busy," Arya said, and the assistant looked at her with wide eyes.

"You are better at sword work than needle work," her mother said, as she stood there wiping her hands of blood with a wet cloth. She looked at the assistant. "I am not well suited to the table but I can sew as well as any woman in the kingdoms. Give me the catgut and needle."

"Yes, my lady," he said.

"Arya, you will have to help me some," Lady Stark said. "My hands are not as good as they used to be."

Gendry now saw her hands close up for the first time and there were scars there, and then he remembered what Arya had said about the attack on her brother's life in Winterfell.

Gendry sat there and to his utter amazement Lady Stark of Winterfell knelt in front of him on the ground and stitched his wound with catgut while her daughter helped her. As they worked, the tent flap opened and Ned Stark was there, the grim look still on his face.

"Sansa said you were here. How is the boy?"

"He will live," Catelyn Stark told him.

"That is good to hear," Ned replied. "Especially now we need an armorer."

"He needs rest first, my husband."

"Aye. The wounded are being put in the tent next door. I will help move…"

"No," Catelyn said. "Put him by himself. He does not need to hear the screams of dieing men when proper rest will give him a good chance to live."

"Aye, I'll arrange it."

By the time they took him to a small tent, Gendry was in a stupor, from the wine and the pain. He had barely felt the needle going in and out but the burning wine had been agony. Arya and her mother lay him down on some blankets in the tent and covered him up and then Arya finally relented to go off and get cleaned up.

"She thinks the world of you," Catelyn Stark said after Arya left. "I can see it now."

Was she drunk too or was she trying to be friendly to him? "Aye," was all he could say. If he was going to live in the north he may as well learn to speak like them. Then he passed out.

Gendry awoke to the sounds of whimpering and then growling. Gods, a wolf was after me, he thought and then he sat up and he let out a yell of pain, his shoulder still throbbing. Then in the darkness he heard a voice. "Are you in pain?"

Arya was beside him in the small tent. "Not so bad," he lied. Then he remembered what he heard. "Did you have a direwolf dream again?"

"Yes," she said after a moment. "Not too bad this time, just running and howling at the moon."

"What's been happening?" he asked her. Gods, his head throbbed, too. The wine.

"It's almost dawn, I think. You slept all evening and all night. I came here to give you your other shirt and see how you were and you were asleep. Then I fell asleep. Here." She handed him his other shirt and helped him put it on, careful to avoid touching his injured shoulder.

"You shouldn't be here with me," he said suddenly.

"I don't care," she said in defiance. "Besides, my mother knows I am here."

"Come on, you have to go."

She sighed. "Okay." Then in the darkness she leaned forward and kissed him quickly on the left cheek and then she was gone. That has got to stop, he thought, as he lay there, feeling his cheek burning more than his shoulder or head.

The dawn came and they had breakfast and they waited and did not move and then about noon, a large group of men rode in with three young women who looked like they had been through an ordeal. Gendry later heard they were the serving girls that had been captured. The five ironmen who had taken them were dead and the other three young women that had been captured were dead as well, killed by the ironmen when they realized they were trapped before they could reach their ships. In the far distance the riders had seen two long ships rowing away from the coast.

As they were breaking up camp Gendry found Tim and their forge wagon. "Just me and you now, Tim," he said to him and Tim was sad and afraid, he could see. Then an old soldier approached them and said Lord Stark told him to drive the wagon and so Tim got in the back of the wagon and Gendry awkwardly got on his horse. His shoulder throbbed with every move but he needed to ride. This time the baggage train was put in the center of the line of march, and Gendry wished they had thought of that yesterday.

When they stopped for a meal break, Arya and her mother came over to them. Arya was wearing a dress, a dark blue one and the scowl on her face told him right away she did not like it. "Don't laugh," she said right away. "All my clothes were covered in blood and were washed and are still wet."

"You look nice," was all he said. Was she wearing that last night? She must have been only he never noticed in the dark.

"How is your wound" Lady Stark asked him.

"Fine, my lady."

"Really?" she asked with skepticism. "Or are you trying to be a stoic northman already?"

"Well, it hurts a bit."

"Of course it does, and it will for days. Tonight we will change the dressing and make sure there is no mortification."

"Thank you, my lady."

"No, thank you, once again, for my daughter's life." With that she said goodbye and walked off and left Arya with him and they spent the day talking on many things, about the recent battle especially, trying to piece it all together. Finally, at the end of the day she looked pensive.

"What's wrong?"

"My father said we should be near the Twins tomorrow."

Sure enough the next day, they came to the outlands of the Twins domain and then by afternoon they met some outriders with messages from Walder Frey, but Gendry knew not what they said. Finally, early the next morning the whole army arrived on the banks of the Green Fork, and there up ahead Gendry saw the two castles that gave the place its name.

He felt relieved that they would rest for a while now and at the same time he was worried. He knew what was to come next. Arya had to meet this Frey boy. But he also knew she liked him, and he had been the one she had kissed, twice, in the darkness. He wished he could just speed up time, make her age two or three years, so she was a woman and he would not be afraid to kiss her back. He wished his father had claimed him as his son. He wished his mother was alive. He wished this terrible nightmare would end. But most of all he wished for a chance, just a small chance, to be happy with the one who made him happy. If the gods were good they could do that one small thing for him, couldn't they?