Chapter 41 Catelyn

Catelyn Stark looked at the sept of Winterfell with anger in her heart. The doors had been beaten off the hinges, the wooden statues of the Seven had been knocked down and hacked at with axes and burnt, and the altars by each statue had been desecrated with blood and other foulness. The ironmen had done all they could to show they had no love or respect for the Seven. They had even drowned the septon, and for that above all Catelyn felt a burning anger.

With her were her charges, Robb's wife Roslin, Jeyne Poole, the orphaned daughter of the dead steward of Winterfell, Sansa and Arya, her daughters, Rickon, her youngest son, the two Frey boys, Big and Little Walder, Howland Reed's two children, Meera and Jojen, and finally the blacksmith's apprentice, Gendry. They were all dressed in working clothes, old dresses and breeches and shirts, ready to do their part to help clean up the damage left by the ironmen.

"Where do we start, Mother?" Sansa asked.

Catelyn sighed heavily. "I…I don't know." As soon as she said it she knew it was wrong, that she shouldn't say that in front of them, that she had to know what to do. She was in charge here, her husband and eldest son Robb and the steward Samson busy with supervising the rebuilding of the Winterfell town before winter came. The carpenters and most of the men of Winterfell and the remaining army soldiers were with them, leaving it to smaller parties of woman and children to take care of cleaning inside the castle, doing what they could. They had been home only a few days, Roose Bolton and his men just leaving the day before, and the clean up was barely started. First, Catelyn and her charges and many servants had cleaned the living quarters in the Great Keep. Then they helped with the damage done in the great hall. After that they set to making the stables fit for the horses. Carpenters were already repairing the roofs of the stables and the great hall. Finally, Catelyn decided the sept was next in priority.

Gendry walked over to the wooden statute of the Father and looked at it closely. "Can it be repaired?" Catelyn asked him.

He shook his head. "I'm no carpenter, my lady, but I think not. The sept will need new ones. All of them."

She knew he was right, as she looked at the other statues, all hacked and slashed and burned. "Then the first thing we should do is take the statues outside."

The statues were not overly large or heavy, so with two or three of them on each one they managed to lift or drag them outside, and lay them in a pile. Catelyn said a small prayer to them, and then she looked at her charges.

"Fetch hot water, lye, and mops and scrub brushes," she said to them and soon they were back with sloshing buckets, and cleaning implements, and bent to the task of removing the soot and blood from the sept. As they worked Catelyn thought on what to do next.

She had to have a new septon, and a new septa, if such people could be found in the North and were willing to come to Winterfell. The people of the North clung to their old gods, but the Seven were also worshiped, though at times Catelyn felt she was the only one in her family who really believed. Her children had all been brought up in her faith, but they had also known their father's faith, and had prayed with him in the godswood under the heart tree. Catelyn and Eddard had been married in the light of the Seven but in his heart he belonged to the old gods and always would. Robb followed his father in most things and in this as well. She knew Sansa believed in the Seven, at least before she left Winterfell. But after all that had happened in the south she wondered if she still believed. Arya had always been indifferent to prayer, and had hated her lessons with Septa Mordane, wanting to run off and study with Maester Luwin and the boys. Bran…she did not know if he ever believed, and if he did would he still think the gods were watching him after all he had been through. And Rickon was too young to know what the gods even were.

Catelyn looked over at Roslin and knew she followed the Seven as did her cousins. Jeyne was a daughter of the North, but she and her father had always been at prayers in the sept. As for the Reed children, she did not know what gods they followed in their swampy home. Gendry she was not sure about as well.

"Do you follow the old gods or the new?" she asked him as he stood by the two heavy doors, looking at the metal hinges to see if they could be repaired or needed to be replaced.

"The new, my lady," Gendry answered. "I am a smith, after all."

She had to smile at that answer. Arya had said something similar at the Twins when Catelyn had argued with her about Gendry. That seemed so long ago. Now he almost seemed like a part of the family. Catelyn had slowly let go of her anger at him for having eyes for her daughter. She knew it was not because of him, or his age difference with Arya, or his trade, but because of what he was, of how he was born, and what he represented. She knew it was not his fault, and was really the fault of Robert Baratheon if anyone, yet she could not help but be angry. Then slowly, as they journeyed home, with her husband's prodding, and with Arya's almost pleading, she had begun to accept him. It helped that he had saved Arya's life, that he had helped them defeat the ironmen, that he had been there for them when they needed him to be. And Arya…the way she looked at him, followed him everywhere, talked about him…it had to be love, despite her age. Everything Catelyn had said about the kind of man she wanted Arya to marry was true of Gendry as well.

As she thought this she looked over at the two Frey boys, laughing as they splashed water on each other as Roslin scolded them to work and not play. They could not let the Frey boys know about Arya and Gendry. Roslin already knew, Robb had said, and promised to say nothing to her kin. Catelyn had already warned Arya and she had promised to do nothing to cause suspicion. As far as the Frey boys and the rest of the castle knew, Gendry was just an apprentice smith who Lord Stark had brought to serve at Winterfell. Catelyn hoped it stayed that way.

It took them a few hours to clean the sept, and by then Gendry had gone off to repair the hinges for the doors. Soon after they had all returned the buckets and mops and washed their hands and faces it was time for lunch. After that the children had lessons with Maester William. Thinking of the new maester brought forth another thing that still hurt, the death of Maester Luwin, a wound only a few days old and still fresh and raw. He had always been at Winterfell, had been there when she had first arrived, had pulled her five children from her womb, had made sure they had all lived in those dangerous first years of life, had healed the people of Winterfell when they were hurt, had taught her children all he knew, and had given sage advice when asked for by her and her husband, and even her sons when trouble had come calling.

As she thought on him as they walked away from the sept, Catelyn looked to the sky and the heavens and said another small prayer for him and all those who died at the hands of the ironmen.

Today the sky was overcast and hinting at rain but it had not started yet. As they walked to the great hall, Arya fell in step with her mother behind the others. "Can I ask you something, Mother?"

"Of course, my daughter."

Arya hesitated, as if afraid to ask, and then spoke quickly. "I…I was wondering if Gendry could take lessons with us?"

That surprised Catelyn. "Why do you ask?"

Arya now seemed embarrassed, and looked down as she talked, speaking quietly, maybe afraid the others ahead of them would hear. "He never had lessons like we do. I mean, he knows about money and sums and how to make a helmet and a sword and all that but…he can't read or write."

"Oh," Catelyn said. She hadn't really thought on this before. Now that she knew it made sense. Gendry had been an apprentice and learned a smith's trade where writing and reading were not a high priority. But she also knew he could not take lessons with the other children, for many reasons.

"Arya, won't it look odd if he takes lessons with the rest of you?"

"Just because he is not highborn?" Arya asked and the way she said it sounded like she was mad.

"There is that, as you well know," Catelyn told her daughter in a sharp tone. "And before you argue that he really is highborn, remember that I know who his father was, and so do you, but you can't tell anyone who he really is, not even the maester."

Arya nodded. "I know you're right. It's just not fair."

Catelyn sighed. "It is not, but there it is, and there is naught we can do about it. Also, he is quite busy with his work. There is much that needs to be repaired or replaced that needs his hammer at the forge."

"I know. I just want him to learn," Arya said in frustration.

Catelyn could only think of one solution to this. "Then you must teach him."

"Me? I'm not a maester or septa," Arya said in surprise.

Catelyn stopped and Arya stopped as well as the others ran ahead to the great hall. "Arya…if you want him to learn, you must do this. He cannot join you at lessons with the maester. The Frey boys cannot know we are treating him…special. They will ask too many questions and we can't have that."

Arya nodded. "I understand. I'll…I'll try…if he lets me."

"You have not spoken to him on this yet?"

"Yes, but he's kind of stubborn. He says he doesn't need it for his trade. But…I want him to learn. I don't want a…I mean…for the future, for…I just want him to learn."

Catelyn knew what she wanted. "Because you want a man who can read and write?"

Arya blushed and chewed her bottom lip and looked down. "Aye," she said quietly.

Catelyn put her hand under her chin, lifted it up and looked at her daughter and spoke in a serious tone. "If you want this, you must work for it. You must make him agree, and you must teach him. Discreetly."

Arya grinned. "I will try."

"Good. Come, let us eat before the Frey boys gobble our share as well."

The great hall was full already, with the benches crowded with hungry people, each table piled high with food, and everyone was digging in. Already at the high table sat Ned and Robb and the Greatjon. Her husband and oldest son looked sweaty and grimy as did most of the other men. Bran was here as well, sitting at the low table closest to the high table, with Hodor sitting across from him. Hodor was also dirty, his great strength useful for many heavy tasks, but Bran was clean, his condition making him unable to help with the work. Catelyn's heart was still filled with grief for what had happened to her son, and filled with anger at the Lannisters who took the best part of his life from him. Every night she said a special prayer for Bran to get better. She also prayed that Jaime and Cersei Lannister would meet some horrible end and die in pain. So far none of her prayers had come true.

Bran had asked if he could spend the morning in the maester's chambers. When Catelyn had asked him why he had said he wanted to read. After Maester William had agreed, and Bran had promised not to bother him if he was busy, Hodor had taken Bran to the maester's tower. Now at the table Bran had a book with him, opened by his side while he ate. Soon the other children who had helped Catelyn clean up the sept joined him and Hodor, except Roslin, who as the wife of the heir of Winterfell took a seat at the high table next to Robb. She also saw Gendry at another table in the back with Mikken and the other apprentice smiths.

"What are you reading now?" Sansa asked Bran as she poured water from a clay flagon into cups for everyone. The Frey boys were already grabbing bread and digging into bowls of soup.

"About the plants of Westeros," Bran answered his sister.

Little Walder looked up from his soup and rolled his eyes. "Why study when you don't have to?"

"So my brain can grow bigger," Bran said with half a smirk. "You should try it sometimes."

The other children snickered and Little Walder was unsure if had been insulted or not and then realized he had been and glared at Bran.

"That's enough reading for now," Catelyn said to Bran. "Eat your lunch."

"Yes, Mother," Bran said and he reluctantly closed the book.

Catelyn went to the high table and took her place by her husband's side. She looked at the dirt on his and Robb's clothing as she sat. "A lord is not supposed to get himself dirty with toil, my father always said."

"Aye?" Ned replied with half a grin. "Ladies and their children neither I suppose?" he added with a look at her and then a glance to their children and the others at the table below them. All of them were sweaty and had dirt on their work clothes. At least they had washed their hands.

Catelyn had to grin. "In this case, we will make an exception." Then her face grew serious. "Ned…what they did to the sept…it was awful."

"I saw," her husband replied, his face returning to its usual grim set. "We will get an expert craftsman from White Harbor or Riverrun to come and carve new gods for the sept."

"And we need a new septon," she said. "And a septa for the girls."

"Aye…I will send the ravens this afternoon."

"There are no more ravens for White Harbor," Robb interjected. "There was only one and we sent it yesterday asking for pig iron, glass, and those others things."

"Then we will ask the other lords of the North if they have what we need," Ned answered. "And we will need new ravens. Perhaps Maester William can train some."

The meal continued in the same vein, talking about what they needed to do, and how to do it. Inevitably the talk drifted to Theon Greyjoy.

"Still no sign of him?" Catelyn asked.

"None, at least not from our scouts nearby Winterfell," answered Robb, anger in his eyes. "But Lady Mormont is still looking. And we have not heard from Ser Rodrik yet. May the gods lead them to him before he causes more harm to the North."

As these words came from Robb, Catelyn spied a Winterfell soldier in chain mail and carrying a spear enter the main doors of the hall. He walked straight up to the high table, dipped his head, and addressed her husband.

"Lord Stark, there is a commotion at the Hunter's Gate."

"Commotion? What is it?" Ned asked quickly.

"Some smallfolk from a nearby village, my lord. They asked to see you. And they have a man bound in ropes."

Ned stood immediately and Robb and Catelyn and the Greatjon did as well. "Roslin, Sansa, keep the children here," Catelyn said as they quickly followed the soldier. They said they would and then all eyes were on those who were leaving in a hurry. Soon other soldiers saw what was happening and were rising from the tables and following their lord and lady out the door.

At the Hunter's Gate a crowd was already gathering. A group of six men in farmer's garb were there, with their prisoner bond in ropes and kneeling on the muddy ground. The man had been badly beaten and his face was bruised and bloody. For a brief moment Catelyn thought they had captured Theon. But her husband soon got to the bottom of it.

As Ned approached them all the smallfolk took off their hats and dipped their heads and said 'my lord".

"What's this?" Ned asked in his lord's commanding voice.

"Prisoner, my lord," said an old man, who seemed to be the spokesman. "We brought him for your justice, my lord."

"Aye," said Ned, looking carefully at the man. "Who is he and what is his crime?"

"Murder, my lord," said another man, tears in his eyes. "He killed the miller and my father, Caster Flint."

"Farmer Flint?" Robb said in surprise. Catelyn knew the name as well, having heard stories of how Ned and the boys had often stayed with Farmer Flint over the years while on hunting trips.

"Aye," said Flint's son, a broad man with a thick black beard. "We found his body by the mill, stabbed to death. The miller was hung in a tree by the neck and gutted."

The old man took up the story, nodding to the prisoner. "This one sent hounds after the miller's wife and she'd be dead too except she run to our village, naked as the day she come into the world, screaming and crying for our help. When this one arrived soon on her heels we got him, but not after a fight. He killed two of us and wounded a third before we knocked him senseless. We was about to kill him as well, but the miller's wife told us he was some lord's son. Then we thought we best take him to you for proper justice."

"Seven help us," Catelyn said, now knowing who it was, looking at the man on the ground. "It's Ramsey Snow."

The man on his knees laughed through thick broken lips. "Aye, my lady. But the name is Bolton, not Snow."

"Snow or Bolton, you're still a murderous cur," said Robb with a growl.

"I say its time to get Ice a little bloody, Ned," the Greatjon advised. Many others shouted out their agreements.

But Catelyn's husband looked troubled. "Robb, Lord Umber. Take him to the cells. We need to get to the bottom of all this."

"That's right, Lord Stark," Ramsey sputtered through broken teeth. "My father would be quite vexed if I lost my head without a proper hearing."

Ned stared at him. "Your father knows the punishment for murder is death. I will have the truth of what happened first. That's a right every man and woman of the North has, to plead their case, even you. And if you did do murder, you will feel the cold steel of the North's justice."

With that last comment everyone shouted and then one of the villagers kicked Ramsey from behind. As he fell in the mud more of them cursed him and more blows would have landed on him except Robb and the Greatjon and some guards dragged him away.

Ned looked at the villagers. "You have traveled far and look hungry and tired. My men will take you to the great hall for food and drink. Then you will come to my solar and tell me all that happened."

After the villages thanked him and were led away, Ned started walking to the Great Keep, with Catelyn close alongside. They were soon inside and then they went straight to Ned's chambers. Catelyn saw a servant on the stairs. "Bring hot water and fresh towels for Lord Stark," she commanded and the girl hurried off to obey.

They entered his bed chambers and Ned started to remove his dirty clothing. Catelyn looked at her husband in worry. "Ned…that's Roose Bolton's son."

"Aye," he said wearily as he sat on the bed and took off his muddy boots. "Will trouble never stop following us?"

Catelyn sat in a chair and sighed. "It's as if the gods are testing us beyond all endurance."

"I must give the people of the village justice if what they say is true."

Then Catelyn realized something. "The miller's wife was not with them. The party was made up of only men."

"Aye. Then I will have to go to the village to question her."

"Ned…if the stories they say about Ramsey are true…he might have defiled her. A woman…a woman that has happened to may not tell all she knows to a man…even her lord."

Her husband looked at her closely. "I need the truth of this, Cat. She must tell me."

"I will get the story from her. I will come with you. Leave Robb here, in charge, with the Greatjon."

He thought for a moment. "Aye. You will come with me. The maester should come as well, to see to the wounded villager."

"When should we go?"

"The village is at least a half day's ride. We must wait till morning."

A knock came to the door and Catelyn answered it. The servant girl had a basin of hot water and towels which Catelyn took from her. She placed them on a table and Ned quickly washed his hands and face and upper body. After he dried off he dressed in finer clothing and put on clean boots.

"Best change your own clothes, my lady," Ned advised. "We must look lordly for our people."

Catelyn agreed and went to her own bed chambers nearby, which were warm and cozy, the warmest place in the whole castle, as Ned had often complained. As lady of Winterfell, Catelyn had her own private quarters, but more often than not she had spent the nights in Ned's bed chambers. His visits to her were rarer, seeing as he did not like the heat so much. The walls of Winterfell had been built hundreds of years past, built in a cunning way to catch the warmth of the hot springs under the castle, making the castle bearable in even the coldest winter. Come the winter she knew Ned would not mind slipping under the covers with her in her bed chambers so much. As she thought on this she felt a small thrill. There had not been much chance for love making on the ride home, not with so much to do and so many worries. And now their home was in disarray and new troubles were brewing. How she longed for the simple days from before Jon Arryn had died and Robert Baratheon had come calling. How she longed for a time when all was well with her family and the realm.

Catelyn quickly washed with a basin of cold water that had been there since morning. Then she changed out of the old dress she had worn for working and put on a finer dress of blue. She also put on some of her jewels, surprised most of her finery was still here after the ironmen had sacked the castle. Ned had said they were in such a hurry to get away with their lives they had little time to take plunder.

Ten minutes later she joined her husband in his solar, with Ned sitting by his table and Catelyn standing by his right side. Shortly after that the Greatjon and Robb led the villagers inside. They looked a bit nervous, and after dipping their heads and removing their hats once more, they were quiet, as if awed to be in such a place before their lord.

"Where is the prisoner?" Ned asked Robb.

"In chains in a cell, Father, with four armed men outside it."

Ned nodded and looked at the old man who was the villager's spokesman. "Tell me it all, from the beginning."

The old man spoke up. "Was more than three days past my lord, when Castor Flint took his wheat to the mill for grinding. Then about middle of the morning the miller's wife… Leslie…she come running into the village, crying about her husband being dead and for us to save her from a madman. Not ten minutes later we was still trying to get her to talk sense, when we heard these hounds braying and then they come running into the village square, four of them."

Robb spoke up. "Farlen's hounds maybe."

"Could be," said his father before he looked at the old man again. "Then what happened?"

"Then that bastard came running in after them. He had a madness in his eyes, my lord, and a sword in his hand. He stabbed the first man he saw and then another and by that time there was twenty of us around him and he was waving the sword around and hacking at us. He sliced a third man's leg, but we mostly kept clear and finally old Tom Kettle hit him on the back of the head with a big piece of wood and after that we had him."

Flint's son spoke up. "Then we tied him up and went to the mill. That's when we found my father and the miller…both dead. We…took them back to the village. Had us a funeral yesterday." He choked on the last words and stopped talking.

"Then we argued over what to do with the prisoner, my lord," said the old man. "Some wanted him dead…but Leslie, she said he was bragging about how he was a lord's son. So…here we are, my lord, for your justice."

"Aye," said Ned. "What did the miller's wife tell you about what happened?"

"She…she hasn't said much, except to cry and wail," the old man replied. "She's only eight and ten years of age, my lord. Just been married less than three moons ago."

"Did he hurt her?" Catelyn asked, her voice with an edge of anger.

"Yes, my lady," said another man, tall and strong looking. "She had wounds. I will not speak of them in front of you."

"I command it," she told him in a sharp tone. She had seen so many wounds in the past few weeks, taking care of some herself, that whatever they told would not shock her. But they were men of the North, who tried to shield their women from the horrors of the world.

"'Tis not fit for a woman to hear, my lady," said the old man.

"Do as my lady wife asks," Ned demanded in his lord's voice.

The old man gulped. "As you say, my lord. She was…he…had been at her. He violated her. And…and he is an animal, my lord, an animal…she had…she had bites…on her flesh."

"Animal bites? From the dogs?" Catelyn asked, not ready to believe what they were suggesting.

"No, my lady," said the tall man. "He bit her…on her bosom."

Catelyn shook her head. "Gods…what kind of man is he?"

"Not a man," growled the Greatjon. "A beast."

"Was there anything else she said?" Ned asked.

"No, my lord." the old man said and then Flint's son spoke up.

"There's one more thing, my lord. When we came to the mill my father's horse was gone and we couldn't find it. So was his knife and cudgel he always had. The house looked like it had been ransacked. Not much food left, maybe clothes taken as well. In the fireplace we found the burnt remains of some clothing."

"Did the prisoner have your father's missing things?" Ned asked him.

"No, my lord."

"Was there another man at the mill, helping the prisoner?" Catelyn asked.

"We don't know, my lady," said the old man. "And the miller's wife is not in her right mind to tell the tale.

Ned nodded. "Very well. Thank you for bringing us this news. I think it best if I go to the village and question this woman myself. We will leave in the morning. My son will see you have a place to spend the night."

"Aye," said Robb. "Follow me."

As soon as they left the Greatjon looked at Ned. "He must die it if is true, Ned."

Catelyn stared at Lord Umber. "Have you forgotten whose son he is?"

"No, my lady, but if my son or yours did the same thing he would have to die as well."

"Aye," agreed Ned. "There cannot be one law for lords and one for smallfolk. But we must first find the truth. And we must tell Roose what is happening. He is but a day gone on his journey home."

"A fast rider can catch up," Catelyn advised him.

"I need paper and ink," Ned quickly said to her.

Catelyn found a quill, ink bottle, and parchment on a dusty bookshelf and brought it to him. Ned sat at his table and wrote quickly. When he finished he folded the paper, and then they melted some wax and Ned sealed it and stamped it with the Winterfell sigil. He handed the message to Lord Umber. "Your fastest horse and best rider," Ned told him and then the Greatjon left them.

"Ned…the missing horse and other things…someone had to be with Ramsey."

"Aye…I have an idea who that was. Ramsey must have had Farlen's hounds. He must have killed Farlen…maybe with Theon's help."

"Why would Theon kill Farlen and help Ramsey Snow? Theon was trying to find Bran and Rickon. He needed Farlen and those hounds. And maybe he was trying to get away to his sister at Deepwood Motte according to what Maester Luwin told us with his last breath. And Ned…as much as Theon betrayed us by attacking Winterfell…I do not think he would help Ramsey Snow do what they say he did."

"Maybe not," Ned replied. "But only the gods know what has happened to Theon's mind since you and Robb last saw him. There is more to what happened out there then we know. Roose's men found Farlen's body. But they did not say where or how it was found, just that his throat was cut."

"You must talk to Ramsey…if he will tell the truth."

"He won't," Ned replied. "But I must have words with him anyway."

They left the solar and went to the great hall. The hall was mainly empty now, the lunch hour over and the people going back to work. They found Robb talking to his wife and the children, with Hodor sitting nearby.

"Come, Robb," Ned said right away. "We have to talk to him." Soon they were gone and the others were a babble of voices asking Catelyn what was going on.

"Is it really Ramsey Snow?" Arya asked.

"Who is he?" Little Walder asked.

"He was a prisoner here, remember?" Big Walder told his cousin. "The ironmen let him go."

"He's the Bastard of the Dreadfort," Meera said.

Arya glared at her. "Don't use that word."

Meera looked at her oddly. "That's what he is."

Arya looked ready to argue with her but Catelyn stared at her and shook her head and Arya backed down.

"Isn't he the one who took Lady Hornwood?" Sansa asked.

"Yes," said Catelyn.

"What did he do now?" Bran asked.

Catelyn shook her head, would not tell them, the things Ramsey Snow did at the mill not fit for her children's ears. "Never you mind. Your father and brother are taking care of it. Now you have lessons. All of you. Maester William is waiting for you. Change your clothes and go see him. Hodor, take Bran please."

"Hodor," the big stable boy said and then he picked Bran up and soon they were all leaving the great hall. All except Roslin, who did not take lessons with the maester but stayed with Catelyn now.

The first thing Catelyn did was tell Roslin what happened with Ramsey Snow. As a future lady of Winterfell she had to know everything, had to understand it all, and had to support her husband in his decisions, or advise him against making ill choices. And she had to know the lords of the North and their different personalities, strengths, and weaknesses.

"What will Lord Bolton do if Lord Stark condemns his son to death?" Roslin asked after Catelyn finished speaking.

"That is uncertain. The Boltons…they have a long history of resisting authority from Winterfell. The people of the North fear the Dreadfort, and the stories we sometimes hear are not for the faint of heart. Lord Bolton is a dangerous man, but he is also alone, and no one loves the Boltons, lords or smallfolk. He knows the North would crush him and his if he ever raised a hand against Winterfell. But…if Lord Stark decides Ramsey should die, then Lord Bolton will have no heir, no more sons. And that will make him ask for his son's life to be spared."

"Will Lord Stark give him a reprieve?"

She shook her head. "I think not. This new trouble along with the trouble with the Hornwoods are crimes Ramsey Snow should be punished for. But if there is a reprieve from death for murderers, there is only one place for them. The Wall."

"It seems such a man would not suffer to stay at the Wall," Roslin observed. "Or will cause trouble there as well."

"Yes. It seems he is the type. But if he deserts then it is death for certain." Catelyn stood from the table. "But that is for the men to decide. As for us, it is time for you to learn some things about Winterfell."

After that they went to the kitchens and found the staff cleaning up the remains of lunch and already preparing for the evening meal. Catelyn explained many things to her, and introduced her to the kitchen staff, who all dipped their heads and said 'my lady'. Even the wildling Osha dipped her head, as she took a knife and began slicing the meat off a haunch of mutton that had not been totally consumed at lunch.

After the kitchens they went to the storerooms and Catelyn showed her where the food was kept and how much was there. An assistant to the steward showed them the counts, and gave them the tour. Soon they left there and went to the glass gardens, which had surprisingly survived the ironmen's rampage and fires. Many vegetables and flowers were still growing in the warm stuffy air inside the glass gardens. The gardeners politely dipped their heads and answered all of Roslin and Catelyn's questions.

By the time they were done all of this it was time for the children's lessons to end, and Catelyn had decided that it was time to do something she had been putting off for the last few days, what with all the drama of their homecoming and all that followed. As they walked to the maester's tower, her husband and Robb were coming towards them across the courtyard.

"What did he say?" Catelyn asked right away.

"He says Theon did all the killing," Robb answered, his voice betraying his disbelief.

"So Theon was truly there?" Catelyn asked next.

"Aye," Ned replied. "So Ramsey says. Says he found Farlen's body first, dead, and then he went to the mill. Theon had raped the miller's wife, and the miller was already dead. He tried to take Theon prisoner to bring him back here for justice, and to try to get a pardon for his other crimes. But Theon drew his sword on him. He and Theon were fighting in the yard when old Flint arrived on his wagon and tried to help Ramsey. The woman took off running in the forest as Theon killed Flint. Then Ramsey says he knew Theon was the better swordsman and he took off running as well. Ramsey said he wasn't chasing the miller's wife, he was trying to get away from Theon. He only killed the villagers because they attacked him."

"He lies," Catelyn said through gritted teeth.

"Aye," said Robb. "He lies, and he lies well. There is no way to prove his story or not."

Roslin spoke up, her voice shy and quiet. "The miller's wife knows the truth."

"Yes," said Catelyn right away. "She must tell us if it is true."

"The condition of the house at the mill will tell us more," said Ned. "If they have not set it in order yet. But all this must wait until the morrow. We all have work to do and…"

But Catelyn interrupted him. "I am sorry, my husband. But there is something else we must do first."

"And what would that be?" Ned asked her.

"This business with Arya…collapsing in the tent the night Mikken arrived at our camp. Her knowing things she could not know. Sansa was lying about it. And his strange behavior they have with their direwolves, Bran too and…you knew?"

She saw the look on his face and she could tell right away he knew something. She looked to Robb and he had the same look. "You as well?"

"Aye, Mother," Robb answered, casting his eyes away.

"I…I know something as well, my lady," Roslin spoke up. "I was in the tent when something happened to Arya after you had left that night. I did not understand it all. Jeyne was there as well."

"Gods," Catelyn said a shake of her head. "Am I the last to know what is happening with my children?"

"Let us settle this once and for all," her husband said with determination. "Where are Arya and Sansa now?"

"With the maester," Catelyn replied. "We were just going there.'

"Then let us go," he answered and started walking in the direction of the maester's tower. On the ground outside the tower sat the four direwolves, chewing on bones. Catelyn looked at them, four beasts from legends. No direwolves had been seen south of the wall for hundreds of years…until the day her husband and boys had come across a dead one that had sired six pups that they took home. Their mother had been killed with the antlers of a dead stag. Hullen and Jory and the others with Ned that day had seen an omen in that, that something bad would come of a meeting between stag and direwolf…between Baratheon and Stark. And then came a raven with dark news from King's Landing. Jon Arryn was dead, the King was coming to Winterfell, and all the subsequent madness followed from those two events. But Catelyn also knew that it wasn't the stag that had hurt her family. It was the lion, the Lannister lion, and someday the direwolf would have its revenge.

As Robb approached Grey Wind, the direwolf leaped up and came to his side. Robb ruffled his fur and then hurried to catch up to the others. The other three direwolves sat chewing on their bones, but Catelyn noticed they all faced the maester's tower, as if knowing her children, their masters, were inside. It sent a chill up her back. What was the connection between her children and these creatures from legends?

Inside the maester's chambers they found the children doing math problems, different problems for each age group or level of skill. Bran, Jojen, Meera, and Arya seemed intent on their work, while Sansa and Jeyne were sitting at a small table in the back near the window, whispering to each other about something, and the Frey boys and Rickon were making faces at each other. Maester William was bent over, looking at Bran's work, when Catelyn and the others entered the room. As soon as the children saw who it was they all took a sudden interest in their work.

Maester William looked up. "My lords and ladies," he began. "How can I help?"

"Maester, we need have words with you," Ned told him. "And Sansa and Arya."

Arya and Sansa glanced at each other and Catelyn knew they knew something was happening.

"I think Bran and Jeyne should stay as well, as they may have something to say about this," Catelyn said. "Rickon, you and the Frey boys can go play."

"Yeahhhh!" said Rickon and the Freys as they jumped up, not even caring what was happening as long as they didn't have to stay in school. As they started to leave the room Robb admonished them to stay away from where men were working.

Jojen and Meera started to rise as well, but Ned shook his head. "You can stay. We might as well get all of this over with now." The two children of Howland Reed sat down again. Catelyn looked at her husband oddly. What did he mean?

But she put it out of her mind for now, as Maester William pointed to the small stools the boys had abandoned for Catelyn and Roslin to sit on. He and Robb and Ned remained standing. Then he looked at Lord Stark. "Well…my lord, I guess you should begin by explaining what this inquiry concerns."

"I think my wife best do that."

All eyes turned to Catelyn Stark. "First, I must ask my daughters something," Catelyn began as she looked at Arya and Sansa. "I would have the truth about what happened in the tent the night Mikken arrived in our camp. Arya, you fell, and then you knew what was happening outside the tent. How is that possible?"

Sansa spoke quickly. "We…we told you that Arya just fell and…"

"She knows something," Arya interrupted her sister. "You don't have to lie for me…us… anymore." Now she looked at her mother steadily. "I'm a warg. And so was Sansa before Lady died and the connection broken. Gendry told me Robb is the same and I bet Bran and Rickon are too."

"Wargs," Ned said heavily. He looked at the Reed children. "Your father said the same thing. But I was not ready to believe him. Now I am."

"Wargs?" Catelyn said, recovering from the shock that had run through her when Arya had said the word. She had heard the term before, legends, about people north of the Wall who could enter an animal's mind. But her children? "No, it can't be true," she said right away, not willing to believe it. "How is it possible?"

"It's true," said Robb, quietly, and Roslin stared in wonder at her husband. "Gendry told me about Arya's dreams on the road home. About how Arya dreamed she was inside Nymeria, …but it wasn't a dream. She was part of Nymeria, could control her actions, could see what she sees. The same happens with me and Grey Wind when I sleep."

"And me and Summer," Bran told them and Catelyn could not help but gasp.

"When you were hurt, Summer howled every night," she told her son. "And when that man attacked us…Summer saved us."

"Summer knew I was in trouble," said Bran calmly.

"Gods," Ned swore. He looked from Robb to Bran and then to his daughters. "You both told me it was just dreams. You never said anything about knowing what a warg was."

Arya chewed her lip and looked down. "I thought you would say we were…we were mad. Not right in the head." And no one knew what to say to that.

"What's a warg?" Jeyne asked in the sudden silence.

"A person who can enter the mind of an animal," explained Maester William, speaking for the first time. "I know little of them I am afraid. But it has been documented by maesters who served at the Wall. I am sure Maester Aemon knows more."

"How can this be?" Catelyn asked, looking to her husband and then the maester. "Why my children? Why these direwolves?"

"They have the blood of the North, the Stark blood," Ned said after a moment of thought.

"The direwolf is our sigil after all," added Robb.

"This only began after the direwolves came to Winterfell?" Maester William asked.

"Yes," Arya said and Sansa, Robb, and Bran agreed with her. They all said none had any connection with any animal before the direwolves arrived.

Catelyn looked at Arya. "Tell me when this first happened with Nymeria."

"I dreamed of Nymeria before we left Winterfell…but I thought it was just dreams."

"I had the same dreams about Lady, until she died," Sansa added sadly.

Her friend Jeyne was looking at her and seemed a bit put out. "You never told me."

"How could I?" Sansa replied. "You would think I was crazy."

"Tell me more," Catelyn demanded of Arya.

"Then on the road home, in my tent…I had a dream…but it was so real. I was chasing horses and men and then…I killed a man…and I…I was hungry, so hungry, I mean Nymeria was so hungry…I…Nymeria…she ate. The man." That brought shocked gasps from Sansa and Jeyne and Roslin.

"Gods," said Catelyn, looking at her daughter in wonder and sympathy. "Did you tell anyone?"

"Gendry…he was in the tent, and so I told him. He heard me growling in my sleep as well."

"Did you have more dreams after that?" Ned asked her.

"At Harrenhal, again," Arya told them. "And then I saved Sansa."

"What? How?" Catelyn asked in surprise.

Sansa took up the tale, and told them about the attack on her and how she knew Nymeria was Arya and how Nymeria attacked the two men.

"And then she wanted to kill San…the Hound. But I stopped her and she ran away."

"It was me, inside Nymeria," Arya added. "I could see everything and sense everything Nymeria could."

"You said it was a wolf that attacked those men!" Jeyne almost shouted at Sansa.

"What else was I supposed to tell those Lannisters?" Sansa shot back. "My sister was out their roaming around inside a direwolf?"

"No," said Catelyn right away. "You did right. You are, none of you, to speak a word of this to anyone."

"Gendry knows," Arya said. "But he won't tell anyone."

"Ah, Sandor Clegane…the Hound. He knows as well," Sansa said a bit reluctantly.

"How?" Catelyn asked her eldest daughter.

"He heard me call Nymeria 'Arya' when I was attacked. He asked me about it, so I told him what I knew. Then he said we were wargs."

"He called me the same at Harrenhal," Arya told them.

"He is far away now," their father said. "But no one else must know."

They all agreed and then Arya took up her tale again.

"Then near the Twins I found Nymeria again after a dream. Then...on the way home, after Moat Cailin…I began to control it."

"How?" asked Robb, seemingly curious and Roslin gave him a look, fear in her eyes.

"I…can go inside Nymeria when I want. Even when I am awake. I don't know how I do it. That's what happened at the tent when Mikken arrived. I was inside Nymeria, and saw Mikken on his horse. And later I just did it, on my own. Now, I can just think about it and it happens."

"It's like slipping out of your skin and inside the direwolf's," Bran added.

"You can control it?" Ned asked his son in wonder.

"Yes, Father," Bran replied. "Lord Umber was right. I was inside Summer when he found us on the road. I slipped inside Summer and went to the road to make sure no one was there, that Theon and his men weren't there waiting for us."

"It's true," said Jojen. "We saw him do it. He is a warg."

"Osha knows as well," added Meera. "She told us about some of her people who have this power. They shun them in the villages north of the Wall."

They were all silent for a minute, taking this in. Finally, Catelyn spoke to her husband. "What should we do?"

"There is not much we can do except kept silent about this," Ned began.

Catelyn suddenly knew there was something they could do. They could kill the rest of the direwolves. Lady was dead, and the connection with Sansa was broken. She was about to voice her idea and then she remembered the rest of what she knew about the direwolves and she knew she could not voice her opinion. Summer had saved Bran and her from the man with the knife. The stories the men in the army told of Grey Wind, fighting by Robb's side, killing men and horses both, always protecting Robb. And Nymeria had saved Sansa on the Kingsroad. She also knew her children would never forgive her if she ordered the men of Winterfell to kill their special pets. She could tell Sansa still grieved over her lost Lady. Then somehow her mind drifted to Jon and his direwolf Ghost.

"Jon," she said aloud, and she had used his name so little over the years they were all surprised.

"I bet he is like us," said Arya, excitement in her voice. "Him and Ghost."

"Aye," said Robb. "And Rickon as well."

"You will say nothing to Rickon on this," Catelyn told them sharply. She did not want him getting scared thinking something was wrong with him. "If he has the connection as well let him think they are dreams for now." Her children reluctantly agreed.

"I think we should talk to Osha on this later," Ned told them. "Maester William, I want you to write to Maester Aemon on the Wall. Ask him what he knows, and ask him to be discreet."

"Maester Aemon is blind, Lord Stark," the maester reminded him. "He will need help with any research or letters he writes us."

"I had forgotten about his condition," Ned replied. "It will make it difficult for him to aid us without involving any others."

"Then we must write to Jon," Robb said right away. "To ask what he knows, and if the same thing is happening to him. He can talk to Maester Aemon and get any advice."

"Aye," said Ned. "Then I believe that is all we can do for the moment. Sansa, Arya, Jeyne, go and find Rickon and the Frey boys. It is time to straighten up the library. Put all the books in their proper places."

"Yes, Father," Sansa said and then she and Arya and Jeyne left the maesters chambers.

"I should go supervise them before they make a much worse mess than there already is," said Catelyn, rising from her stool. "Come, Roslin."

But her husband stopped her. "Not yet, my wife. And you too, Roslin. Stay. We must discuss some other matters."

"What matters?" Catelyn asked, but Ned was looking at the Reed children.

"It is time we talked on why you came here."

Catelyn was confused. What did he mean? "They came for the harvest festival," she said and then looked at the Reed children. "Did you not?"

Now Jojen spoke. "No, my lady. We came to help Bran."

"Help Bran?" Catelyn said in surprise. "How can you help Bran?"

"I have the greensight," Jojen told her. "I saw Bran in my dreams. He will fly."

Robb snorted. "Bran can't fly any more than any of us. He is not a raven."

"His green dreams come true," Meera said to Robb. "Always."

"How is that possible?" Roslin asked.

"I have heard tell of this," the maester said. "Some people can see the future, whether in dreams or in fire as the red priests of the Lord of Light claim they can. When I was in the Citadel in training there was a tale of an old dwarf woman who roamed the hills near Harrenhal, telling people their future for a drink and a song and a bit of food." He now looked at Jojen. "What did you dream of?"

"I dreamed that a wolf was held in chains and a three eyed crow would set him free. That the wolf would fly when he was free."

"Howland told me the same tale when we met south of the Neck," Ned stated.

Catelyn stared at her husband. "And when was I to know of all this?"

"Forgive me," Ned said and she could tell he was truly sorry. "I needed more information and did not want to worry you unduly with such tales if there was no truth to them. But now it seems it is time to find out the truths of this." Ned looked over at Bran. "Bran…what of it?"

"He thinks I am the wolf," Bran said. "And…and I have dreamed of a crow with three eyes, pecking at my forehead."

"Trying to open his heart and mind to the world," said Jojen. "To make him understand his power."

Catelyn shook her head. "Stop. Enough. You have dreams, so you say. Your sister says they come true. But what proof have we of this?"

Bran supplied the answer. "Jojen dreamed that the sea would come to Winterfell."

"The sea can't come to Winter…," Robb began but then he stopped. "The ironmen."

"You dreamed they would attack?" Ned asked Jojen.

"Not exactly, my lord. I just saw the sea and many people in Winterfell drowned."

"He also dreamed of how the wolf would come and push back the sea," added Meera. "And how you would capture Moat Cailin. He saw a turtle climb out of the swamp and use its head to knock down the towers."

"Gods," said Catelyn in shock. "The shield shell."

"Aye," her husband said, his grim face full of worry. He cast his eyes back to Jojen. "Suppose we believe what you say. What now? What is Bran to do?"

"He needs to come with me, north of the Wall. The answers lie there."

"Out of the question," Catelyn said immediately, standing and glaring at him. "Are you mad?"

"No, my lady. But I know Bran must go there." Jojen remained calm, his voice at an even level.

"Why?" Robb asked. "What is north of the Wall that is so important?"

"I know not," Jojen replied. "I just know he must go there. Or all will be lost."

"You talk in riddles and give no answers," said Ned, now angry, Catelyn could tell, trying to control it in front of the others.

"I am sorry, my lord," Meera said in an apologetic tone. "We told you what we know and what must be done. It is up to you to decide."

Her husband hesitated but Catelyn had already made up her mind. "My son is not going to the Wall. He is not going two feet outside the gates of Winterfell! And your father would not be our friend for long if we let you go there as well. Enough of this talk."

"Then we will leave on the morrow," said Meera solemnly. "Knowing we have failed. We thank you for your hospitality these last many weeks. Come, Jojen. We must prepare for our journey. By your leave my lord, my lady."

"Aye," said Ned, his anger now subsiding. "But do not be so hasty to leave. I will talk with you on the morrow again."

"As you wish, my lord," said Meera and then the two of them left.

After they were gone Catelyn sank back onto her stool. "Why?" she said to know one in particular, her voice with an edge of despair. "Why have the gods chosen us, to test us with this nonsense?"

No one said a word for a moment, and then the maester spoke. "My lady…it may not be all nonsense. The boy had three dreams that came true. That much we know. What if what he says of Bran is true?"

"Lady Catelyn is right," said Roslin with some strength in her voice. "A wolf in chains? A three-eyed crow? It is nonsense."

"I dreamed of the three-eyed crow," Bran said strongly. "It's not nonsense."

"Just a dream, my son," Catelyn told him, unable to hide the worry in her voice.

"Like our direwolf dreams, Mother?" Robb asked. "I know they are not nonsense. What if what Jojen says has some truth to it?"

"How can we know?" Catelyn asked her oldest son. "He says Bran must go north of the Wall, but he says not why. Did he say anything to you, Bran?"

"No, this is the first I heard him speak of going to the Wall."

"No one is going anywhere," Ned said. "Except back to work. We have much to do. Let us set all this aside for the time being. The Reed children can return home on the morrow if they wish. I will not stop them. We need information and Maester Aemon may be the only one to help us. Maester William, we must write more letters I am afraid."

As Ned and the maester stayed and wrote the letters, Robb picked up Bran and they and Catelyn and Roslin went to the library to help the others. The rest of the day Catelyn floated along as if in a fog, thinking on all that had happened and that she had learned. Too many shocks were not good for her and before the evening meal she was in need of reflection. The sept had no god statues but it was clean now and she could light a candle to ask for wisdom from the Crone. She lit the candle on the Crone's altar and knelt before it, silently asking for help on what to do. But no answers came to her. As she stood to leave she heard a noise behind her. It was Gendry, coming to the sept doors with his hammer in one hand and a door hinge in the other, about to replace one of the broken door hinges in the dying sunlight.

"Sorry to disturb you, my lady," he said. "I will finish this tomorrow."

"No, please stay," she said. "I am just leaving."

She started to walk past him when she stopped. "I know about Arya and Nymeria," she told him.

"She told me, my lady."

"She tells you everything?"

He grinned. "Most things. Course, I wouldn't know if she hadn't."

"No, I suppose you wouldn't," Catelyn replied. Then she just had to ask him. "Do you love her?"

A flush came to his cheeks and he hesitated. "I…know you don't want me to, my lady…but I can't help it. I do."

"Even though you know what she is? A warg?"

He looked at her in puzzlement. "She's still Arya to me, my lady. Warg or no warg. That does not change how I feel about her. My lady."

Catelyn knew he was right, knew that what he was saying was true, that they were still her children no matter what they were inside. She smiled at him. "Gendry…thank you."

She left him to his work. After the evening meal she went to her quarters, and as the sun set she lit some candles in her room. She visited her children and made sure they had eaten enough and were settling in for the night. Bran was in his bed, reading a book by candle light and Rickon was already fast asleep. Arya was standing in the middle of her room, practicing with Needle, while Sansa was combing her long auburn hair at a dressing table. She thought to look in on Robb and then remembered her oldest son was married and it was not proper to disturb him.

Catelyn Stark retired to her own quarters and changed into a night dress and was combing her own hair at her dressing table when her husband came to her door. "May I enter, my lady?" he asked.

She smiled at that. It was something that he had first said years ago, when they were finally together after so long apart. They had had a brief honeymoon at Riverrun after getting married, long enough for her to become pregnant with Robb, but too brief to know each other well. Then he had gone to war and had returned a year later with Jon. They were already at Winterfell, Jon and a wet nurse, when she arrived from Riverrun with Robb in her arms. There had been arguments, and recriminations, and many silences between them those first days. The first three nights he had stayed away from her. Finally, he had come to her rooms and asked the question. "May I enter, my lady?"

He was Lord of Winterfell and could do what he damn well pleased in his own castle, but he had the courtesy to ask her. She had looked at him for a long moment and then relented, letting him come to her bed, and after that things had been better between them, though she never forgave him for Jon. From then on, though he did not like her rooms much because of their warmth, and she more often than not went to his rooms, whenever he wanted to spend a night with her he came and asked the same question.

"Of course, my husband," she answered, in the usual manner, and she was glad to play this game that they had not played in so many months.

He came in and sat on the bed. "I'm sorry, Cat, for not telling you what I knew sooner."

"It was wrong," she said, her voice colder than she had intended.

"Aye," he said, and she knew she had hurt him and had destroyed the earlier mood.

Catelyn came from her dressing table and sat on the bed next to him and put a hand on his knee, which he quickly grasped with his strong hand. "Ned…we must trust each other. We cannot have anymore secrets, especially concerning the children."

"No more," he promised her.

"Good. Now, what are we to do with the children, Ned?"

"We do as we always do. We protect them and love them and guide them as best we can."

"But now…what if the people find out what they are? You heard the Reed girl say that Osha told them people north of the Wall shun that…that kind of person. Will it be no different here?"

"I know not, my lady. We best make sure no one else finds out."

"I went to the sept and prayed for wisdom from the Crone. But I received none…until I talked to the smith. He said the same as you said, in a way."

"You heard the Smith's voice?" he asked with skepticism.

She smiled. "The smith was Gendry. He was fixing the sept doors. He said he cared not if Arya was a warg. She was still Arya, and he loved her."

"He told you he loved her?" he asked in surprise.

"I asked and he said so."

"And how do you feel about that?"

"Not so bad as I would have at one time."

Now he smiled. "That is good. Let us to bed, my lady." He started to remove his boots. "Tomorrow we have much to do. Again. First, we must see the miller's wife."

"Ned…what if the miller's wife tells us that all they said of Ramsey is true? Then he must die, mustn't he?"

"Aye, he must. And Roose will take that hard."

"If he had other sons he might not. You know the rumors that Ramsey killed Roose's true son?"

"I have heard," Ned answered. "But there was no proof of it."

"Perhaps if he had a new wife, and new sons…." She let the implication hang in the air.

"And who would let their daughter marry a man with his and his home's repute?"

"Walder Frey has many more daughters and granddaughters."

Ned raised his eyebrows. "Aye, he does at that. I need think on this. When Roose comes, we will have much to discuss. And a trial for his son."

They went to bed after that and made love, and for the first time in a long time they lay in each other's arms in relative comfort and security. But not as comfortable and secure as Catelyn Stark would have liked. She thought once they had reached Winterfell all the madness would be behind them and they would be safe and happy. But now she had many doubts and fears of the future, above all she worried for her children, and sleep did not come easy to the lady of Winterfell, and she wondered when it ever would again.