Chapter 31 Robb

Moat Cailin was an island in a bog, three islands for that matter, and as Robb Stark looked at it from the Kingsroad on the edge of the swamp he knew it was going to cost men to take it. Three towers stood up from the mud and water, the thin ribbon of the Kingsroad, covered in logs and planks, running between them. The three towers were all that remained of a once great fortress built thousands of years ago. Legend said it once had twenty towers, a great keep, deep moats, and a high curtain wall. The moats were mostly gone, filling in over the years with mud and falling blocks from the walls and former towers. All except the three towers lay buried in the mud, with some massive blocks of stone still sticking up here and there.

The secret of Moat Cailin was not these towers but the men who manned them. If they had sufficient archers and crossbowmen they could easily defend the place. The towers had many windows and arrow slits and battlements on top where men could stand and rain fire down on those who struggled up the plank road or across the muddy fields. Each tower could cover the others if they were assaulted. An army coming from the south could not assault all three towers at once without being buried in a storm of arrows. The bogs and mud and water between the towers would prevent them from attacking from many sides at the same time. Supposedly there were snakes and lion lizards out there as well, but Robb could see none of either. It mattered not if they were there, as snakes could not bite through armor and lion lizards could be killed as well as any man. No, the real danger was from the towers, and they would be hard to crack.

All movement had to be up the Kingsroad except for the small paths that made their way to the tower doors, and they were often underwater, and muddy at the best of times. One good thing was that the water levels were down, there having been no rain recently. During their five day trip up the Kingsroad it had not rained once. The paths to the towers were visible, but still looked very muddy.

The Drunkard's Tower was closest to them, the furthest south, west of the Kingsroad. It was leaning badly and looked like it would fall at any moment, but Robb knew it had been that way for hundreds of years and hadn't fallen yet. The Children's Tower was further north and still west of the Kingsroad. It was tall and slender but its top looked like a bite had been taken from it, the battlements badly damaged, the upper floors exposed. The third tower, the Gatehouse Tower, was half way between the Children's Tower and the Drunkard's Tower, but on the east side of the road. It even had some of the old curtain wall remaining. Robb knew it well, having spent several days there when his army had moved south. It was where his mother had found him after her misadventures in the Vale.

It was dawn and as the sun was rising and the morning fog was burning off, he could also see the remains of failed attacks. Dead men, rotting in the mud, lay out there by the dozens and the tens of dozens. Arrows stuck out of most of the bodies and out of their dead horses as well. Robb could see how the attack happened in his mind, armored men trying to run through the mud, their feet and legs getting stuck, their movements slow, even the horses having trouble, and then the arrows came down on them. A trail of dead bodies extended from the Kingsroad to the Drunkard's Tower, getting fewer as they reached the bit of dry land around the tower, with the last just short of the tower door, killed as he at last reached his objective. Most of them were Karstarks, Robb knew, ambushed as they tried to make their way home. He felt a twinge of guilt for that, and voiced his feelings to his father, sitting on his horse beside him.

"I should have found a way to make peace with Lord Karstark."

"We both should have," Ned Stark told his son. As they sat on their horses, a shout came from the nearest tower, the Drunkard's Tower, off to the west a bit from the Kingsroad. The voice was faint but they could make out the words.

"Come for more, have you?" came the shouted question across the fields of mud and then an arrow came from the top of the tower. Robb and Ned watched it land not ten yards from where they were.

"We are out of range here. Let him waste arrows," Ned growled.

"Let's see if he'll fire any more," Robb said. He shouted back to the tower. "I heard all ironmen are cravens!"

That brought five more arrows and shouted threats to geld all Starks. All the arrows fell short as well, but Robb knew they would find their mark if anyone got closer to the tower. And closer they would have to get because the Kingsroad ran close by it. Armor would protect them somewhat but would also slow them, making them easier targets and at close range arrows could punch through armor. Crossbow bolts were even deadlier, having more punching power, but crossbows were also slower to reload. Most of the Stark men wore chain mail, being both stronger than leather armor and lighter than plate armor. Most also had shields, of stout oak and layered with copper and even steel in some of the more elaborate ones.

"Come, it is time to make plans," Robb's father said suddenly.

They turned their horses around and rode back to where almost four thousand men were strung out on the Kingsroad. The trees and tall grasses of the swamps came close to the road here and screened their actions from the nearest tower. The road was packed and only a narrow path existed for the horses to walk. Men were cooking breakfast over small fires, and many rose and dipped their heads in respect as Robb and Ned passed. Further on were many archers, preparing their bows and arrows for what was to come. Other men sharpened swords, or fixed their armor and shields, grim looks on their faces. Finally they came to the forge wagon, where Gendry and the men helping him were assembly the great shield shell. Grey Wind was there as well, tied to the forge wagon and he was growling at all. Roslin's brother Olyvar was there as well, with strict instructions to keep Grey Wind in hand. The boy was used to Grey Wind by now and Grey Wind was used to him so Robb expected no trouble there. Robb didn't like it, but he knew Grey Wind would follow him anywhere and he didn't want Grey Wind charging after him if he went into the attack. Arrows could kill his direwolf just as easily as any man. Olyvar had wanted to be in the attack as well, but Robb gave him a sharp look and told him he could never face Roslin if he let her brother die.

Roose Bolton, the Greatjon Umber, and the other commanders were waiting for them. Further down the road Robb could see the long lines of horses and men and wagons, waiting for the assault to begin

"The ironmen are awake," Ned told the commanders.

"Good," said the Greatjon. "Soon they will be asleep again."

Three days he had sat here in frustration, Robb knew. The crannogmen who Howland Reed sent to help the Greatjon told Robb and Ned when they arrived the evening before that the Greatjon had wanted to rush the towers at once. Only when he got a good look at the ground and saw the dead Karstarks out there, rotting in the mud, did he relent and follow the crannogmen's advice to wait.

Roose Bolton looked over at the shield shell. "Our men have not trained with it," he said in his quiet voice.

"Aye," said Robb, worrying about that as well. "Maybe we should wait a day and give them some practice, carrying it at least."

"Wait a day!" roared the Greatjon. "These sons of whores have already kept us from our homes long enough!"

Robb looked to his father and could tell he was troubled as well. "It is the fifth day since we spoke with Howland Reed. Lady Mormont and Lord Glover are over there by now, to the north by the Children's Tower. They are waiting for us to begin. We can't delay any longer."

"We should delay for a few hours at least," Robb suggested. "To give the assault force some time with the shield shell."

"Agreed," said Lord Bolton and the Greatjon growled his agreement as well.

"We attack the Drunkard's Tower first," Robb's father said. "I know the limit of their arrow range but a bit further up the Kingsroad passes too close under it, with the other two towers close by." Ned knelt down and began to draw with his dagger in the dirt of the road. "The three towers," he said as he drew. "The Drunkard's Tower door faces towards the Children's Tower and the Gatehouse Tower. Our men must go up the Kingsroad a bit and then turn to the west here on this path. It is above water now but will be very muddy and the going slow." He looked to the Greatjon. "The ram is ready?"

"Aye," said the Greatjon. "Through I wasn't expecting this shield shell. The men carrying the ram will have to be under that thing and carry it as well."

"It will be cumbersome," observed Roose Bolton.

"Aye," said Robb. "But we have no other way to take the Moat without losing too many men."

No one had a better idea and so they proceeded. Robb went off to help Gendry and the men helping him. The young smith was sweating and his black hair hung before his blue eyes as he swung his hammer and drove some nails into the shield shell. They had the shields all nailed together with thick leather straps connecting them. Many of the shields had been round or oval and Gendry and Tim and Duncan had done as much as they could to square them off but there would still be gaps where arrows might get through. All of the assault force they had selected would wear plate armor. It would be heavy and cumbersome in the mud, but it would keep them safe, especially when they broke the door and assaulted the tower's occupants.

Robb had wanted to go with them, but his father had put an end to that idea and Robb, remembering his mother's words, reluctantly agreed. The Greatjon would lead them, it was decided the night before, and then the surviving leader of the Karstarks would lead the secondary follow up wave. He had but forty men left, and they had been here for many days now, their frustrating building as they waited for this moment. All wanted to be part of the assault, and Robb's father finally relented and said they would make up the first wave of the secondary assault force that would reinforce the shield shell assault force. Robb felt that this force would lose heavily, but the Karstark men had fire in their eyes and wanted revenge and he and his father could not refuse them. Nothing was said of what had happened at Riverrun, and if any of these men survived Robb knew he would remove the punishment of isolation that he had imposed on their homeland.

An hour later and the shield shell was ready. It was eight shields wide and ten long, with further shields hanging from the sides, the back, and front. Gendry had not connected the two middle front shields to those on their sides, so that the ram could be pushed through when they reached the door and the assault force scramble out and into the tower. With the ram taking up space, only about forty men could fit under it. About ten of the strongest men were needed to carry the ram. The rest would carry the shell on their backs or with their arms. It would be heavy and cumbersome.

The Greatjon assembled his force, some of the biggest and strongest men in the army. They picked up his large ram made from a swamp tree and then many men helped lift the heavy shield shell over them. Right away they knew the ram was too long and axes came forth and about ten feet was chopped off the rear end. Then they tried to move the shell and carry the ram and went about twenty yards on the road before stopping. The Greatjon came out the front, stooped low.

"Tiresome," he said to them, sweating in the moist fetid air. "We will be exhausted by the time we get to the tower doors."

"Then you will rest on the way," Ned said. "Each man should carry a water skin as well."

"Fresh water, from our kegs," Roose Bolton advised. "This bog water will make you ill."

"Aye," said the Greatjon. His men practiced a bit more and then finally he said they were as ready as they ever would be. They loaded up with their water skins and strapped on their swords and daggers and maces. It was time for the assault to begin.

The great shield shell marched up the Kingsroad and as soon as it was in range almost immediately arrows and crossbow bolts came down on it from the Drunkard's Tower. But they bounced off or stuck in the shell and the great turtle like shield shell moved ponderously down the road, stopping every now and then as the men under it rested. When they turned towards the Drunkard's Tower, more arrows came from the Gatehouse Tower and the Children's Tower. Now their movements were much slower. They were in thick mud and stalled. For a few minutes Robb thought they would get stuck but then with slow, short movements they started again. More arrows and bolts now came from the two other towers. At one point as the shield shell moved a body was left behind with an arrow sticking out of its left leg, behind the knee. As the man lay screaming for help two more arrows hit him, one in his throat, and he died. Robb knew he would not be the last to fall this day.

As they neared the tower, Robb's father gave the command for a fire arrow to be lofted into the air. As it arched high they suddenly saw away to the north on the other side of the Children's Tower many men rise out of the tall grasses and fens and bushes on the dryer north side. They moved towards the Children's Tower, shield men in front, archers behind, and the ironmen in the Children's Tower turned their bows and crossbows in that direction.

At this point the shield shell was at the doors of the Drunkard's Tower. After a moment they heard the pounding of the ram. Slowly at first, and then a bit faster as the men found their rhythm. After about thirty hits the doors were broken. They clearly heard the Greatjon roar and then his men were leaping through the door and the sound of steel on steel came across the bogs.

"Forward!" Ned Stark shouted and then the great force moved to support their comrades. The Karstark men and the others with them in the second assault wave ran down the Kingsroad and then many archers came behind them, and soon started firing arrows at the windows and battlements of the Drunkard's and Gatehouse Towers. Then something unexpected happened. The front doors to the Gatehouse Tower opened and about thirty ironmen charged out with battle cries on their lips and headed right for the Karstark reinforcements. As both sides struggled in the mud arrows flew from all directions, and men on both sides were hit and fell. The ironmen hit the Karstarks and then blood mixed with mud as men died. Soon it was obvious that the ironmen were getting the upper hand.

"We must reinforce them!" Ned Stark shouted and then without waiting he charged his horse down the Kingsroad.

"Winterfell!" Robb shouted and charged after him and then Roose Bolton and hundreds of other men on foot came behind, all screaming and shouting their battle cries. The road was narrow and already clogged with archers and Robb and his father had to struggle to get their horses past them. The arrows were still coming from the Drunkard's and the Gatehouse Tower, but the demonstration was drawing the fire of the Children's Tower away from them. Robb drew his sword and then in front of him and his father were dead ironmen and dead Karstarks. Arrows were zipping by and one hit Robb's shield on his left arm and stuck there. Then Robb and his father lay into the ironmen still standing. Robb drove his sword into the exposed neck of one and the man fell and then Robb's horse gave a scream and Robb saw an arrow was buried in its side, just missing his right leg. The ironmen on foot knew they were outnumbered and began to retreat to the Gatehouse Tower. Some fell with arrows in their backs and few reached it safety again. As the enemy retreated into the open doors, one ironmen fell with an arrow between his shoulder blades and his body prevented the door from being closed.

Robb shouted to his father. "The door is opened!" At that moment his horse staggered as another arrow hit it and horse and rider fell and Robb was soon half buried in mud. As strong hands helped pull him up he saw his father and Roose Bolton and dozens of other men charging across the muddy path on foot to the Gatehouse Tower door. A large man, one of Bolton's, Robb recalled, was first at the door and then a battle axe swung out the opening and took him in the face and he staggered back with half his face gone and fell and died in the mud. Then the body blocking the doors was pulled inside and the doors slammed shut again.

Robb staggered through the mud to the tower, where his father and Roose Bolton and about two dozen men huddled near the door. From above some arrows came down but soon Robb was too close to the tower walls for the archers to reach him. As he slammed into the mossy wall next to his father he looked at him and he saw his father was grinning like a madman. With a shock Robb realized his father was enjoying himself.

"Mother will kill me if you get hurt!' Robb shouted at him. Just then an arrow hit the wall above Robb's head and they all ducked. Arrows were still coming from the Drunkard's Tower that the Greatjon hadn't finished conquering yet. Across the road Robb saw more of their men stepping around the shield shell and entering the Drunkard's Tower. Out on the Kingsroad their archers were firing as best they could up at the three towers and more men were charging towards the Drunkard's Tower to support the Greatjon. Arrows found some and they fell in the mud. More arrows came their way and two men hugging the mossy tower wall with them fell with cries of anguish.

"We can't stay here!" Roose Bolton said in what passed for a shout from him. He charged toward the double doors and slammed his body into them but they wouldn't budge. Robb knew they were trapped and had no way in.

"Follow me!" he shouted. He had been here before, knew that the remains of a curtain wall were just to the right and as he ran they followed him. The mud sucked at their feet and it was agonizingly slow going. The wall was low but it would give them some protection from the Drunkard's Tower and the bulk of the Gatehouse Tower would shield them from the Children's Tower. Robb dove over the wall and sank into more mud. The others soon join him and then one man fell with an arrow in his back and they dragged him over the wall. The man was still alive, for the moment.

Robb wiped the mud from his face and looked at his father. "What do we do?"

"We wait," his father told him as he caught his breath. "We can't knock down that door without the ram."

Just then a big stone came from above them and splashed into the mud, almost hitting Roose Bolton's leg. They all moved closer to the tower walls and those with shields put them over their heads. A few more stones came but not many and one man took one in the helmet and fell, and Robb did not know if he was dead or not. Robb guessed that the ironmen had found few stones in these bogs, otherwise they would have soon been buried under them.

Shouts came from above them. "We going to fuck your corpses! Your mothers are all whores! You Starks fight like women!" No one replied, saving their energy for the fight to come.

After a bit it got quiet. Robb took a look out over the low wall and saw that their archers had retreated back down the Kingsroad, leaving behind at least a dozen or more bodies with arrows in them. He couldn't see the Children's Tower from where they were but he could see the Drunkard's. After a moment someone came out on top of the tower's badly leaning roof top. Then Robb grinned as the Greatjon stood there grasping onto the battlements for support. He shouted in his booming voice across the bogs and the road.

"NED! THE TOWER IS OURS! ALL THE SQUIDS ARE DEAD!"

A great cheer rose from their army. After fifteen more minutes the shield shell was moving again, coming across the road and making its way towards the Gatehouse Tower, slowly moving through the difficult mud. Now every arrow in the Children's Tower fell on the shell as well as from the Gatehouse Tower. Again the shell saved them and this time no men got hurt, although the shell now looked like a prickly thistle with so many arrows sticking out of it.

Soon they heard the booming of the ram on the door. After about twenty hits the door splintered and caved in.

"With me!" Ned Stark shouted and they leaped over the low wall and moved toward the front of the tower where the doors were. Already the Greatjon was coming out of the shell front, his armor bloody and his sword as well. His men followed him into the breach and there was soon the sound of steel on steel. Robb followed his father through the doors, with Bolton and a dozen other men not far behind them. There were few men left here after their disastrous sortie to stop the reinforcements. The fight wasn't long, and was bloody, as none of the ironmen yielded. His father got a minor cut on his sword hand and the Greatjon took an arrow to the thigh. Robb remained unharmed and killed one more ironman. Roose Bolton killed three by Robb's count, one whose head he chopped clean off with his sword. When it was all over a man ran to the tower top and hung the Stark banner there and another great cheer rose from the army.

They had dead as well and Robb counted at least two dozen of his own men dead inside and outside the tower, mostly outside with arrows in them. Many others nursed wounds, some minor and some very serious. From a tower window he could see more dead and wounded littering the Kingsroad. Some of the wounded were trying to drag themselves back toward where much of the army still waited. A wagon raced up, its wheels rattling loudly on the wooden planks and logs of the Kingsroad. Men leaped out and started helping the wounded get inside. No arrows came at them and soon they turned around and were away. After that the archers returned, coming down the Kingsroad with a strong force of infantry behind them. Robb shouted out the window for them to stop and not go any further. More men on wagons came behind them and soon more wounded were picked up.

"Come," his father said to him and Robb followed him to the top of the tower. Roose Bolton was already there, hiding low behind the battlements, looking over at the Children's Tower. All three of them were covered in mud and blood, and his father had his sword hand wrapped in a bloody rag.

The Children's Tower was the tallest of the three and from it arrows could come down on them. But they were strangely silent now and no more arrows came. Robb looked to the north and saw that the demonstration force had withdraw back into the vegetation and was under cover. Four bodies lay out there, with arrows in them.

"We can take the third tower with ease now," he said at once.

"Aye," said his father. "But let us rest a bit. We can bring up fresh men and…wait."

They saw the doors of the Children's Tower open. A man stepped out carrying a peace banner. He hesitated a moment and then walked up the path from the tower towards the Kingsroad. Twice he sank up to his knees in mud but he pulled himself up. He was an ironman, wearing the grey clothes and chain mail of his kind, with the kraken sigil in yellow and black on his surcoat. He had a bushy brown beard and long hair.

They came down the stairs and found the Greatjon on the second floor sitting in a large chair with a mug of ale in his hand, the arrow still sticking out of his upper left leg.

"You need a maester," Robb said to him.

"When the fight is done," the Greatjon replied and his face was in pain but he tried to hide it.

"It might just be over," Ned told him. "They want to parley."

"Could be a trick," Roose Bolton said. "To get our leaders in the open."

"Could be," Robb replied. "Father, you…"

"We'll let him come to us," Ned replied and Robb felt better.

They came to the shattered tower doors and stepped out, standing where the shield shell was now sitting in the mud. The man was about fifty feet away on the Kingsroad. He stepped closer and then stopped.

"I come to parley," he said. "You Ned Stark?"

"Aye," Ned replied. "Who are you?"

"Gerald Pyke. Victorian left me in command of the Children's Tower when he sailed away. I guess I am the only one left in charge now. What terms you offering?"

"How many of you left?"

"Maybe forty. Some wounded, some sick. The water is bad here. And the bogmen used poison arrows on some when we tried to re-supply. Them that ain't dead yet soon will be."

"I've got four thousand men here, and another ten thousand six or seven days march down the road," Ned replied. "Why should I give you terms?"

"You might lose a few hundred trying to take our tower."

Robb kicked the shield shell. "Not with this."

The ironman looked at it and then grunted. "I suppose not."

"I thought all ironmen fought to the death," Ned said to Pyke.

"Most times," answered Pyke wearily. "Not today. We just want to go home."

"I can't allow that," Ned told him. "You invaded our lands, killed the men we left here. If you yield you will be coming in chains to Winterfell. When Balon Greyjoy gives up the seastone chair we will set you free."

"That will be a long time, I fear."

"Aye, but death is forever, and no man knows what tomorrow will bring," Ned told him. "We will tend to your wounded and sick, feed you, and give any man who wants honest work while a prisoner. When the war is over you may go free. That is all I can offer."

"Fair terms," said Pyke. "I heard you are a man of your word, Ned Stark. But I must consult my men. Some may not agree."

"Take your time," Ned told him. "We aren't going anywhere."

Gerald Pyke turned and started back towards the Children's Tower. A long hour later he and thirty men came out and surrendered. When Roose Bolton and his men went inside they found nine more ironmen sick and wounded. Several were too far gone and Bolton gave them a quick death with his sword.

The Battle for Moat Cailin was over. The road north was open.

Robb's father immediately sent a messenger on horseback down the Kingsroad to tell the rest of the army to come north. Then they started collecting the rest of their wounded and dead, as the men and wagons and horses moved north and camped on drier ground on the northern side of Moat Cailin. Howland Reed, Lady Mormont and Lord Glover greeted them and all were happy the assault went so well. That afternoon they rested and tended to the wounded and prisoners and made arrangements for the dead, either to be buried here or for their bodies to be taken to final resting places in their homelands in the north. Only twenty-five of the Karstark men had survived and they were a sorrowful lot, and lamented that they would have to bring such grievous news of so many of their brethren dead to their homes.

That night they had a great feast and drank well and many toasts were made for those who fell. As the feast died down Robb found his father, sitting with Howland Reed and the Greatjon, who now sported a big bandaged around his upper left leg. He was very drunk and shouted for more ale. Robb gave his father a look and nodded off to the side and they stepped aside behind one of the tents.

Robb had placed Ice there, leaning against the tent and he now picked it up and he held it out to his father. "It's yours."

"You are Lord of Winterfell," his father said, refusing to take the sword.

"Father, we know that is not true. You have led this army since you were freed. You have made the plans, the men have listened to you, have followed you, not me."

After a moment his father nodded. "Aye…That was a mistake. I should have stepped aside and let you do all of that."

"No!" Robb said instantly. "You are their leader. I am still learning. I…I know I did well in the Riverlands. But I had so much help."

"Robb, you know I will stand by your side and do all I can. And perhaps I was a little eager to take leadership again. But you are still Lord of Winterfell, by all the laws of the kingdoms."

"You were stripped of your title by a false king. Everyone knows that by now."

"Aye, but it still stands. Keep Ice. Some day it would have been yours anyway."

Robb reluctantly agreed, for the moment. His father clapped him on the shoulder. "One more thing. Don't tell your mother what I did today."

Robb looked at the fresh bandage on his father's hand. "She will know."

"I'll say it was a stray arrow."

"She might believe you."

He grinned. "Aye, she might at that. Come, my son, let us have a drink and toast our lost men."

They drank some more and visited many of their men and a long time later Robb begged off any more celebrations and wearily went to his tent and was glad to finally sleep, and glad that the way home was finally open. Before he closed his eyes he said a silent prayer to the old gods and the new for those men who had fallen and would never rise again.

The next morning Robb awoke early in his tent with Grey Wind licking his hand. He sat up and nuzzled his pet. "Sorry I left you out of the battle. I couldn't look after father and you at the same time."

They came outside and the air was fresh and the smell of the bogs was much less on the northern side. Men greeted him and called him "Lord Stark" and Robb still felt like he did not deserve the title. Grey Wind went off through the grasses and Robb felt a strong desire to run after and be with him. Suddenly Robb felt all his senses sharpen and he could feel the ground moving swiftly under his feet and he smelled the scent of an animal. Then in his mind he was with Grey Wind, and Grey Wind was sniffing after a rabbit in the grasses. Soon he was bounding and leaping and the rabbit was flying in fear but was not fast enough. As Grey Wind's jaws opened wide to clamp down on its warm flesh Robb snapped back to reality and found himself falling to the ground.

"My lord!" said a voice and then strong arms were helping him up. It was Gendry. He helped Robb to a chair by a table.

"Are you wounded, my lord?" Gendry asked in worry.

"No…not wounded," Robb replied as he steadied himself. Other men nearby looked at him in concern. "I am fine. Too much ale last night." Many of them grinned and laughed and then started to move away. A servant came with bread and meat and ale and placed it on the table.

Gendry started to say goodbye when Robb told him to sit and Gendry did so "Have you eaten yet?"

"Yes, my lord. I was up early. Just on my way to get some water for the forge." Robb now saw there was a wooden bucket on the ground beside Gendry's chair.

"That can wait," Robb told him and he poured two cups of ale and handed one to Gendry.

"Your shield shell held up well in the attack," Robb said to him after they both drank some. "You should be rewarded for such good work."

"It was your idea, my lord."

"But I got it from Arya and her turtle."

"She told me."

Robb grinned. "I guess she tells you everything."

He blushed a bit. "Most things, my lord."

Robb looked at him steadily and then decided to ask. "I know you were very close to her this last month or so. Has she ever told you…told you about Nymeria?"

He nodded. "She has."

"How did she know Nymeria was nearby that day you two found her?"

He looked uncomfortable and then spoke. "She…she dreams of Nymeria, my lord."

Robb knew it was true because he had dreamed of Grey Wind as well. He wondered if the rest happened to Arya as well. "Only dreams?"

"She should tell you all this, my lord."

"But you are here now. I will know it all."

And so Gendry told him, all of it, from the dreams she had and the incident with Sansa and the Hound and how she thought she was a warg.

That shocked Robb. He had heard the term before, but never thought he was one. Now it seemed so clear.

"Gods," he said when Gendry was finished. Just then Grey Wind came back to camp and his muzzle was bloody and he looked happy and suddenly Robb felt as if his belly was full of raw meat and he could taste blood on his lips. He shook his head and the feeling passed.

"Are you well, my lord?" Gendry asked and then he saw Grey Wind come up to Robb and then Gendry seemed to understand. "It's happening to you too, isn't it?"

"Aye," Robb said quietly "Tell no one."

"Your father already knows."

That surprised him. "How?"

"The day Nymeria came back he questioned Arya and Sansa. They both told him they had the wolf dreams, my lord."

"Sansa as well?"

"Not anymore, not since her direwolf was killed."

Robb looked at him steadily. "Do you not find all this a little…unbelievable?"

Gendry shook his head. "No, my lord. I believe what your sister tells me. I saw it happen to her, a few times now. It seems like she goes away, as if she is not even here, and then she starts to fall like you did or wakes up shaking and sweating. She has wondered if you and your other brothers have had the same experiences."

Robb had never thought on that. Did Jon and Rickon and Bran have similar connections with their direwolves? He would have to find out. Then he remembered how Summer had saved Bran and his mother's life when the assassin had attacked. Maybe all of them had a connection with their direwolves.

After that Robb thanked Gendry for telling him the truth and Gendry went off to get his water. Robb ate a bit of food and then found Olyvar and had his chain mail put on. He also told Olyvar to clean his clothes from the battle yesterday, as they were covered in mud and blood still. With Grey Wind at his side he went around inspecting their camp and making sure all was well. The ironmen were all grouped together with their hands and feet bound, under heavy guard. Robb ordered food and drink brought for them and their hands untied so they could eat properly.

Next he went looking for his father. He found him at the maester's tent. Inside and outside were many wounded men and the place was filled with the groans of the badly wounded. The scent of blood was heavy in the air and Grey Wind was growling and Robb told him to go off and run a bit and once his direwolf got the hint and went off, Robb stepped into the tent.

The Greatjon was inside, on the table, with Robb's father and Howland Reed standing by him and Robb knew right away something bad was happening. The maester was examining the Greatjon's leg wound and it was full of pus and the skin around it was growing green and black and red lines were extending from it.

"If you cut off my leg I will cut off your head!" the Greatjon roared at the maester.

"Easy, Jon," Robb's father said. "More boiling wine and a poultice will do the trick."

"I have already done so," said the maester. "It is the mud of these bogs. It has gotten into the wounds of many men and is causing corruption."

Ned flexed his wounded hand. "My hand seems fine."

"Then you are one of the lucky ones, my lord," the maester replied. "I fear many of the wounded will die, slowly and in great pain."

"More wine then," the Greatjon said, his voice weaker. "Inside and out."

"My people know of some flowers and roots that can cure such mortification, once they are ground up and prepared properly," Howland Reed told them. "The old healers know of these things."

"Please find them," Ned asked him. "Bring back as much medicine as you can, my friend. We will need it all." Howland left without another word and the maester seemed a bit put out.

"Lord Stark, these bogmen…"

"Have been a great help to us, maester," Ned said sternly. "If their medicine can help my men we will gladly accept their help."

The maester hesitated and then nodded. "Yes, my lord."

Ned and and Robb stepped out of the tent. "How goes things?" his father asked him.

"All is quiet," Robb told him. "I saw to the ironmen being fed. Our men are mainly resting. What plans for today?"

Ned looked at him. "What do you think we should do?"

"Rest."

"Aye. What else?"

Robb thought of communications next. They needed to tell the world they had taken the Moat. "Are there any ravens left?"

"We should find out. Who will we send them to and with what messages?"

"To Winterfell…and Riverrun. Maybe White Harbor and the other northern strongholds if there are ravens for them. Tell them the Moat has fallen and the road north is open."

"Good. See to it," Ned told him.

"We should also prepare a force to stay and guard the Moat," Robb added.

"Aye. White Harbor is closest and can provide the most support in the future. I will talk to the Manderly men with us and see if they can send a rider to White Harbor to Lord Wyman Manderly. Hopefully, they can provide a permanent garrison."

Robb went off to find out if there were any ravens left. He knew he should ask the prisoners first, to see if they would tell him. He found them sitting on the ground, eating hard bread and dried fish, and drinking ale and they seemed glad to have it. When the Children's Tower had surrendered yesterday they found that the ironmen's supplies were almost gone. The crannogmen had cut them off, and when Victorian had left with the last two ships they had no way to re-supply. They also discovered that their supply of arrows and crossbow bolts was also nearly finished.

Robb looked over the prisoners until he saw Gerald Pyke. "I need have words with you," Robb said to him.

"This pup needs have words," one of Pyke's men said with a laugh.

"This is Lord Stark!" shouted a guard and he went to hit the ironman with his spear butt but Robb stopped him.

"I am Lord Robb Stark of Winterfell," he said to the prisoners.

Another ironman shook his head in disdain. "You ought to be gelded, you bastard, Pyke, for making us surrender to this boy."

"I surrendered to his father," Pyke growled. "And I didn't hear you complain none, Codd, when I put the offer to you yesterday."

The man named Codd spat on the ground but said nothing. Pyke was looking up at Robb. "Say what you will…Lord Stark."

"Are there any ravens left?"

"None," Pyke told him. "The young whelp of a half-maester you lot left here when you marched south sent them all off with warnings when we attacked. Or so he told us."

"Where is the half-maester now?"

"Had himself an accident after the third day."

"An accident?"

"He fell from the Children's Tower," said Codd with a laugh.

"Fell or was pushed," said another with a grin.

Robb bristled at this callous way they had treated the defenders of Moat Cailin. All of the men who had been left here to defend it were dead. Robb still did not know how the ironmen had done it. The garrison had been small and maybe they had been caught unawares. If they came at night, silently, and the garrison was careless, they could have gotten right up to the tower doors before anyone knew it.

So there was no swift way to spread the news. Robb turned away from them and as he walked Grey Wind came up to him and Robb rubbed his fur. He stood for a while, looking out over his men, at the three towers, and wondered at how some men became so cruel and callous about the lives of other men. They were ironmen, reavers, who pillaged and took what they wanted. It was their way. Robb knew, but why was it their way? He had lived with Theon Greyjoy for ten years, and he had never asked him that. Thinking on Theon, he wondered again what had happened to him. Robb had sent him to make a pact with his father but instead of accepting the friendship of Winterfell Balon Greyjoy had declared himself King of the Iron Islands and sent his men to attack the north. But where was Theon? What had he said to his father? What had become of him?

The next day it rained and they all got wet and things became more miserable. They moved the camp a bit further north to higher and drier ground. Many of the wounded were dying from a mortification of their wounds and the maester despaired and knew not what to do but remove their limbs if it was in an arm or leg.

On the third day since the battle, Howland Reed returned. The Greatjon was fading, and his leg had to come off or he would die and already it might be too late. Just as the maester was preparing to do the operation, Howland Reed arrived with six women. Two were very old and the other four were young and comely. Robb had never seen a woman of the bogs before and found that they were quite attractive. Then he remembered he was married and felt a twinge of guilt.

The old women were healers of the crannogmen and the four girls their helpers and students. They set to work, chopping up plants and flowers they had carried with them. They began mixing the plants and flowers with water in wooden bowls, and applied the poultices to the wounds on the men. Then all they could do was wait.

On the fifth day since the battle the Greatjon was more alert, more lively, and his wound had healed much and the maester told him that he would not lose his leg after all. Most of the other men recovered as well, but a few still died.

On the sixth day a rider came up the plank road, picking his way through the mud and water that now dotted the Kingsroad. When he reached camp he hurriedly asked to speak to the commanders. Food and drink were brought for him and he gave his report. He had good news and then even more incredible news.

"The rest of the army is but a day behind me," he first said after he quaffed some ale.

"A day?" said Ned Stark unbelieving. "How did they move so fast?"

"It was your lady wife, my lord," the rider said. "After three days of waiting she could stand it no more and ordered them to march."

"And they listened?" Lord Glover said with a touch of disbelief.

"Lord Tallhart tried to stop her but she would not listen and so…we came," the man told them.

"She can be most persuasive when she wants to be," Robb's father replied and the other lords all laughed. "That is good news. Soon we can march for home, my lords." And that cheered everyone up.

Then the rider told them the incredible news. "Before the rest of the army marched north, they had another rider from the Twins. They received news of a battle at King's Landing. Stannis Baratheon has won a great victory."

Everyone was suddenly full of questions and all the man knew was that Stannis had won and the Lannisters had retreated, but were not defeated. This they discussed for a long time and all wondered what would come next. Would Stannis declare himself king? Where were the false king and his mother now? What had the battle been like? Not for the first time Robb cursed the lack of news.

The next day in the morning they had a rider from White Harbor. Lord Wyman had received more news from the south by raven message. Stannis had declared himself king, and Joffrey was dead. There was great cheering when the news of Joffrey's death spread through the camp. But they were more subdued when they learned that there had been a terrible fire and much of King's Landing had burnt and many thousands had died. Lord Manderly of White Harbor had been asked by King Stannis to swear loyalty to him. They now understood that King Stannis was sending ravens to all of the greater and lesser houses asking for their loyalty. Again long discussions were held and much was speculated on.

"What do we do?" Lady Mormont asked, looking to Robb's father as all the other lords did. But his father looked to Robb, and nodded, giving him a chance to state his opinion first.

Robb spoke in a clear commanding voice. "If Joffrey is truly dead and Stannis is king, then we should show our loyalty to him."

"Stern Stannis," growled the Greatjon from where he sat on a chair with his leg heavily bandaged. "We trade a boy king for a prickly one!"

"Aye," said Robb's father. "Stannis is a stern man. We all know this. He is difficult to deal with, and will not bend for any man. But he is the rightful heir. Cersei's children were not Robert's, we all know this to be true. Stannis has the rightful claim."

"And if he took King's Landing and the Iron Throne," began Lord Bolton in his soft voice. "The rest of the realm will soon bend the knee. We would be foolish not to do likewise."

"Aye," said Lord Glover. "The realm needs a king. Better Stannis than these Lannisters."

But Lady Mormont had some words of caution. "My lords, we have all heard rumors that Stannis has taken the Lord of Light as his new god. What will this mean for the Seven Kingdoms if Stannis is the new King?"

That brought forth a great deal of discussion which got them nowhere, since they did not know if the rumors were true or what Stannis' intentions were. But many stated strongly that they would not bend the knee if they had to give up the old gods and the new for the Lord of Light.

And then the Greatjon voiced something else which Robb had already thought on. "We will not bend the knee until Stannis gives Ned back what was taken from him!"

Robb was the first to shout his assent. "Aye! My father is the Lord of Winterfell. You all know this to be true."

As the others shouted their agreement, his father looked across at him and raised his hands for silence. "My lords and lady," he started. "I will take my titles back if King Stannis so allows. But I want you to never forget what my son Robb has done for our people. Without him I would not be here today and maybe many of you as well. In future, when I am old and grey and Robb comes into his titles, I am sure you will remember he is a leader of men as much as I am."

Robb had never loved his father as much as at that moment and as they all cheered and shouted Ned came to him and hugged him tight and Robb fought to control his emotions. A round of ale was ordered and they all drank to Robb's health.

At noon, as a light drizzle was falling, the first outriders of the rest of the army came across the bogs past the three towers. Soon more appeared and then marching infantry and wagons were coming in. Lord Tallhart came into the camp to make his report. "She would not leave it be," he told Ned and Robb. "I told her your orders and she told me she would ride up here by herself . Well, I couldn't allow that so…here we are."

"No harm done," Ned told him and then twenty minutes later Robb saw his mother and sisters and wife and Jeyne Poole on horseback, riding up through the grasses and rocks to where the camp was. He and his father came out to meet them.

"My lady," Ned said to his wife as he helped her down from her horse. She had tears in her eyes as she hugged him tight and then looked at his hand and started asking questions with a stern look on her face. Then Sansa and Arya leaped down from their horses and hugged their father and then Robb as well.

"Where is he?" Arya asked Robb and he knew who she meant.

He pointed. "Off that way. Follow the black smoke." Arya said no more and ran with Nymeria at her heels. Jeyne shyly said hello to Robb but he barely spoke a word to her as he saw Roslin come up on her horse. He walked swiftly to her side and helped her down.

"My lord," she said with a dip of her head.

"My lady," he replied.

"Go on and kiss her!" shouted the Greatjon from the table and that brought a great roar of laughter from all present. Both Robb and Roslin turned a bit red and he leaned in and gave her a quick kiss which brought another great cheer.

For many hours the men and horses and wagons came in and Robb and his father and the other lords were kept busy, placing the men in camps and organizing the army, and placing guards and making plans to move north. The drizzle turned to rain and all got wet again. By the time supper came Robb was beat and was glad to sit with his family and break bread in a large pavilion which protected them from the rain. By now all had heard the news of the battle at King's Landing and that Joffrey had died and Stannis was king. None was more pleased than Arya.

"Good riddance," she said with undisguised glee. "I only wish I had been there to see it. How did he die?"

"We don't know," said her father with a worrying look to her. "Arya, I know you despised him, but let go of your anger, my daughter. He is dead now and that is an end to it."

"Sorry," Arya said, as she chewed her bottom lip. "Just…he caused so much trouble for us. All of us." As she said this she looked at Sansa, who seemed subdued.

"It seems like a dream," Sansa said quietly. "Is it truly over? Are we truly going home?"

"Aye," said their father and all felt joy at the prospect of seeing Winterfell and Bran and Rickon and everyone else again.

That night the rains stopped and Robb soon retired to his tent. Outside it Olyvar was standing guard, dead on his feet and Robb told him to go get some rest. Inside the tent his wife was waiting for him. Their tent had a few comforts she had brought from the Twins with her. There was a small table and two chairs and a nice mattress that rested on a wooden platform raised above the dirt. On the table were some lit candles and a bottle of wine and two cups.

"Let me help you, my lord," Roslin said as Robb started to take off his armor and weapons.

"Roslin…you don't have to call me 'my lord' when we are alone."

"Then…shall I call you Robb, my lord?"

He smiled. "I would like that very much."

After his armor came off and he washed his face and hands in a basin of cold water, they sat and drank wine and she told him about their trip north and he described the battle, but not all the gory details as he did not want to frighten her.

After a bit she asked him about Arya. "Robb…I have heard your sister is in love with the blacksmith."

Oh, brother. She was a Frey and Arya was promised to her half-brother. "I wouldn't exactly call it love," Robb said. "She has a crush on him…maybe."

"That's not what Sansa and Jeyne are saying."

"Arya is ten…well, almost eleven years old. She is too young to understand love. She…she just likes spending time with him. They are very close friends who have been through a lot."

"Oh…that's…oh. I understand."

Robb sighed. "I know she is promised to your half-brother."

"Yes," Roslin said and her face fell a bit. "Pity for Arya."

That took him by surprise. "I don't understand."

"She would have to live there with…those people. Better if she ran away with Gendry and never came back."

"It can't have been that bad? Can it?"

"I hate them, all of them!" she said with sudden furor. "All on top of each other, crowded so much you can't breathe and everyone knows who said what and who likes who and who hates who. With their endless plots to win my father's favor and to make others, their own blood, look bad, and…and…him…that old man…my father! Taking a wife younger than me! How they laugh at him behind his back in all the realm. I know, don't say it isn't so. When I went to Rosby years ago the people snickered at my mother and me and my siblings. My cousins teased us and asked us if our father wasn't really our great-grandfather. And now he has a new wife, again, his eighth and she is…oh I can't stand that place!"

She stopped to catch her breath and Robb made gentle soothing sounds. "It's over, you aren't going back there. You're going to Winterfell. The North is big and wide and free. No one will crowd you there."

She smiled. "I know. I…I worry for Arya, for what will happen to her."

"Her wedding day is a long way off. Years away, so do not fret for her. And she is tough. She can handle a lot."

"Sansa said Arya killed people. It can't be true, can it?"

"It is," Robb said heavily. "She and Gendry got in a few tight spots on the way from King's Landing."

Roslin looked at him steadily. "I won't tell anyone about her and Gendry, I promise."

"Good," he said. "That would only cause trouble that we don't need."

"Does she really love him?"

"I know not."

"Sansa thinks so."

"Sansa is a dreamer, a romantic. She…she was once promised to Joffrey."

Roslin nodded. "I have heard. Now he is dead."

"He was not a kind King," Robb told her. "He was cruel and petty and his family have done their best to destroy my family."

She reached out and took his right hand. "But they have not. And here we are."

Robb felt a thrill run though his body as her hand stroked his. She didn't say a word, but rose from her chair, still holding his hand and he rose with her and they walked to the bed. Slowly she reached up and kissed him and he held her tight. Then she stepped back and started to remove her clothing. Robb turned to blow out the candles but she stopped him.

"No…Robb. Leave them be. I want you to see me and I to see you…in the light."

Robb smiled and then started to remove his clothing as well. In moments they were both naked and he took her in his arms. She was slim and not robust as his mother would have liked but she was all woman and she smelled of perfume and soap and he was soon kissing her and nuzzling her neck as her hands ran over his body. He pushed her back on the bed and they lay together touching each other all over, and she sighed and moved and soon he had her groaning in pleasure. Robb lifted his body up and lay between her legs and soon he was deep inside her. They were both relatively new at this but instinct took over and they found a rhythm and when he was done they both lay panting and gasping for breath.

She lay curled up next to him with her head on his chest. "You make me feel so wonderful."

"Aye," Robb said. "And you do the same for me."

She sat up a bit and looked at him and then lay on top and kissed him gently. She kissed his cheek and his neck and then his chest. Then she looked at him and he saw nothing but love in her eyes and he felt the same in return.

"Roslin…we have know each other but a few days…"

"I know. I wish we had spent our lives together."

He smiled. "We have plenty of time now. Time for us to get to know each other, time for us to plan a family, time for us to…to fall in love."

She gasped. "I think it is already happening…my lord."

Robb kissed his wife and hugged her tight. "Aye. I think it is as well…my lady."