Chapter 13: The Bastard of Bolton

They rode hard on that first day and didn't stop for more than a few minutes until they were along the banks of the White Knife river. Torrhen had managed to gather a handful of other, more threatening looking people to ride with him. Daryn Hornwood had brought two of his guard and Arthur Glenmore, Cregan's older brother, had brought an extra man from his own archer unit.

They hastily made camp under the stars, and Torrhen must have only managed a couple of hours sleep before he was shaken awake. "Lord Torrhen." Daryn Hornwood whispered.

"What?" Torrhen asked groggily.

"We've an intruder." Hornwood whispered. Fearing the worst, Torrhen immediately reached for Winter's Bite, an action that Daryn noticed. "Not a threat though, not yet anyway."

That didn't stop Torrhen from being cautious however, as he picked up the Valyrian Steel blade and unsheathed it. Getting up, he followed Daryn to the edge of the quickly built camp, where both of Daryn's men had their spears pointed warningly at a shadowy figure, who had some form of hood covering his face.

"Slowly take off your hood." Torrhen said firmly. He had the body of a twelve-year-old and was still surprised when these older men followed his commands, but the man did as he was asked. It was Domeric Bolton. "Lord Domeric?"

"I was told what you were doing." Bolton stated coldly. "I had to try and stop you."

Daryn Hornwood knew what the Bastard of Bolton was like, his Father's lands bordering Bolton ones. "He's a monster." The Hornwood heir laughed.

"In your opinion." Domeric said quickly. "But he is also my brother."

"That isn't a statement you should be proud of." Torrhen told him. "I'm sure you've heard the stories…"

"I've heard rumours." Domeric nodded. "I've been warned by my own Father, but tell me, Lord Torrhen. If you had a secret brother that you'd only heard about, would you not wish to meet him too?"

That stumped Torrhen, as he knew that he would. "Domeric, he wants you dead. I've seen it." He tried to use his mystic reputation to his benefit. Dom was far too clever for that to work, however.

"Spare me, Lord Torrhen." He said, keeping his courtesies. He looked around and saw that none of the men in Torrhen's group were going to agree with him. "At least offer me the chance of meeting him. Surely I deserve that much."

Torrhen stared the Bolton heir down and couldn't see any form of lies in his words or movements. Still, while he had vowed never to trust a Bolton fully, he also knew that he deserved to see Ramsay for the man he truly was. Nodding his head, the two Hornwood guards dropped their spears. "You may come with us to meet him and see how sadistic he really is, but I'll warn you Bolton, we are under orders from Lord Stark himself to deal with him. Don't get in the way."

Meanwhile, in Winterfell, Catelyn Stark was at a loss. Her 12-year-old son was gods know where to bring justice, her eldest son was due to be married in a weeks' time and Arya was out there training with weapons. The Tully found herself watching Arya train from the balcony that overlooked the archery yard as she received tips from Torrhen's friend Cregan Glenmore.

Swords were clashing in the courtyard beside them too, and Cat noticed Robb speaking with his new betrothed while watching. That brought a smile to her face, although that smile fell quickly when she realised that Jon Snow was in the middle, seemingly giving everything he had in a bout with Theon Greyjoy. That was another thing on her mind, she had forgiven Ned for the revelation, but she hadn't been able to bring herself to speak with the boy himself. She decided to go and get it over with there and then however, especially after seeing how miserable Ned had been at having to withhold the truth from the boy.

Once the bout had finished and the group broke for the day Cat walked down to the courtyard. She said hello to the smallfolk that bowed to her and had a brief conversation with Ser Rodrik, but eventually she was stood behind Jon as he put the blunted blades away. "Jon." She called, forcing herself to go through with it.

Jon was surprised at the voice, and even more surprised at who it came from. He turned around quickly and stared at his feet. "Lady Stark."

She stared at him and saw so much of Ned. The awkwardness, the shy demeanour, and she felt even more guilty about her past. "You fought well." Was all she could say.

That surprised Jon even more. "Urm. Thank you, My Lady."

"You seemed very determined." Cat nodded. "I suppose it has something to do with what you discussed with Lord Stark?"

Jon felt betrayed and she could see it. "My talk with Lord Stark…" He began.

"I understand why you feel that way." Cat told him. "I have been cruel to you. I've been a monster towards you because you are not mine, and that isn't fair." She sighed heavily. "I'm truly sorry, Jon."

Jon was speechless. "I… you haven't been…"

"Spare me." Cat almost laughed. "I've been horrid, and I swear to all the Gods I will be better. It's no excuse, but I'm still learning about the North even now. When I was growing up, we'd hear all these stories about natural children being devious and wicked, doing their all for power. I saw you and made a judgement that was wrong."

It was wrong, and Jon looked insulted. "I would never try to usurp Robb." He said in a rare moment of defiance. "He is my Brother and the future Lord of Winterfell, and I have no desire to usurp him."

"I know that now." She insisted. "And he knows that to, more than anyone I imagine. Which is why going to the Wall would be a mistake for you." Jon wasn't responding, and he just stared at her, unsure of what to make of this. "If you desperately want to join the Night's Watch then like your Uncle Benjen, nobody can stop you. If you are only doing it because you think you would be out of my way, then I'm asking… no I'm imploring you, don't go. Robb needs good, loyal men around him and I'm not sure there are any more loyal to him than you are."

Jon was freaked at the nice things that she was saying. "I'll forever be the Bastard of Winterfell here." He spoke bitterly. "Bastards can rise high in the Night's Watch."

'If only you knew…' Cat thought, but it wasn't her secret to tell. "Not all Bastards have the blood of Brandon the Builder in them." She told him. "I can never tell you what to do, I lost that right the moment I treated you with nothing but scorn, but I know that you have great things ahead of you, and the Watch is not the right place for you to realise them."

She waited for any response, but Jon was shocked into silence at the praise. She bowed her head in a parting and walked away towards the Sept. She desperately needed to pray for guidance.

It took two more days for Torrhen's party to reach the Weeping Water, and it would have taken them even longer had Domeric not already known where Ramsay's mill was located. They made camp about half a mile along the banks early in the day, and Torrhen took Domeric to scout out the mill while the other men waited a few minutes away, ready to strike.

It was a normal, Northern mill, and the fact that nothing looked out of the ordinary unnerved Torrhen. Lying down in a row of hedges, the Stark and Bolton unlikely duo waited.

They were there for around 10 minutes before the door to the mill opened. Torrhen's eyes narrowed at the sight of Ramsay Snow, a low growl escaping his lips as he kissed an older woman on the cheek before making his way over to a kennel.

"He's sadistic." Domeric repeated Torrhen's earlier words.

Torrhen hadn't kept his eyes away from Ramsay though, and when they could see into the kennels Torrhen nodded in the direction. "See."

Through the open door the pair could see that there was a young woman tied up, gagged and naked hanging from the ceiling, and a man asleep near her feet. Ramsay kicked the man until he awoke, but Torrhen couldn't hear the words over the barking of the dogs.

"He does this." Torrhen whispered to a shocked Domeric. "He'll charm the women into his bed before growing bored with them. Then he'll let them escape before chasing them with his hounds."

Domeric looked ill." You're lying."

Torrhen just shook his head. "I honestly wish I was."

"Father warned me…" Dom whispered to himself. They watched on as Ramsay got a blade and taunted the woman for a moment, before cutting her down. Immediately the girl bolted from the barn, sprinting away Southwards down the bank of the Weeping Water. "He let her go?"

Torrhen shook his head sadly. "He's about to hunt her with his pet."

"Then we need to stop him." Domeric put his hand on his sword belt. "That's my Father's subject."

"We can't save her." Torrhen insisted, and right on queue the pair of dogs began racing after the girl, closely followed by Ramsay and the other man, who Torrhen guessed was Reek. "We can make sure that he never does this again however."

"We're letting her die?" Domeric asked aghast.

"We're letting him play out his own downfall." Torrhen said sharply. "You saw him leave the mill, there's only one person he cares for. He's a hunter and he doesn't take insults well, we take her and he'll come to us."

With that Torrhen got to his feet and gathered the rest of his men before walking up to the mill, weapons in hand. Torrhen took a deep breath, and then nodded.

Daryn Hornwood was the largest of them, and he kicked the door in fiercely. They all piled into to the small living area where Ramsay's mother was sat stitching some rags. She looked over in horror and immediately went for some form of long weapon, but Arthur Glenmore loosed an arrow into the wall beside her, stopping her in her tracks.

"You're coming with us." Daryn Hornwood growled as his men moved to restrain the woman. Her eyes however were solely on Domeric, and as she was dragged past, she spat directly in the Bolton heir's face.

It was done in an instant, but Torrhen wasn't satisfied with just the capture. As the others made their way outside Torrhen put the rags on the spear that she had been reaching for and held them in the fireplace until they aflame. Dropping the rags in the corner, he waited until the fire had latched onto the wood before leaving the building, never even looking back at the soon blazing structure.

Torrhen's group immediately packed up camp and moved towards the Hornwood. They found an abandoned tower towards the northern part of the forest and set up there, having left enough of a trail behind to ensure that the Bastard of the Dreadfort would follow them. Follow them he did, and two days into Torrhen's group luring Ramsay towards them, he struck.

One of Daryn Hornwood's men was guarding the entrance to the grove the tower stood in, and the first sign of trouble that the group noticed was an arrow puncturing through his eye socket, followed by dogs barking rapidly in the distance.

"COVER!" Daryn screamed, as he flipped over the table and ducked behind it with his other guard. Torrhen was inside the tower at the shout and swore loudly, picking up his bow and racing upstairs to where Arthur Glenmore was keeping watch. The archer had an arrow nocked and ready.

"He's in the trees." Arthur told him. "Nock up."

Torrhen did as he was told, allowing the superior bowman to direct him. Keeping a tight hold on the string, he pointed the arrow out from the crenel of the tower. They stayed in silence for a moment, waiting for something to appear.

The first thing to come racing out towards them were the hounds. Huge black beasts foaming at the mouth leaped over Daryn's fallen man towards the tower. "You take the left one!" Arthur cried. Torrhen didn't waste a second as he adjusted his aim and released his arrow, sending it flying into the hound's neck, dropping it. The other dog soon died too, as Arthur hit his target before nocking another arrow with speed.

"You'll pay for that!" A voice came from the trees. "And for kidnapping a helpless woman!"

"Just as you will pay for your many crimes, Snow!" Torrhen shouted back. He ducked behind the merlon just as an arrow came racing out of the treeline and passed him. "Shit!" He whispered.

"I got him." Arthur said quietly. He released his arrow, and a cry was heard.

That was the cue. Daryn and his last guard raced out from their defensive position towards the treeline. The guard was killed by an arrow to the chest, but there was no time for a reload as Daryn reached Ramsay Snow and Reek. He quickly disarmed them both by breaking their bows in half with his longsword, and he thrust a heavy fist into Ramsay's face, making the bastard see stars. Reek then found himself a knife and screamed, only to be met with the butt of Daryn's blade.

"Ramsay stop!" Domeric screamed from back by the tower. All eyes flew to him, as he stepped out of the structure, holding a long dagger to Ramsay's mother's neck. "Surrender now, or she dies with you."

"Don't listen to him!" She screamed. "YOU are the rightful heir, not him!" Domeric yanked her hair back forcibly, making her yelp as her neck became more exposed.

Torrhen had made his way down the tower as this was going on, discarding his bow for Winter's Bite. He stepped out of the tower as Ramsay was being dragged by his shirt by Daryn, and the bastard was unceremoniously thrown to the floor. He had blood running from his lips, but he looked up at Domeric grinning. "Hello brother."

"Yes." Dom said. "I am your brother. We can be brothers if you'd let us."

"Domeric…" Torrhen began, but he was silenced by a glare.

Ramsay barked out a laugh. "Yes Domeric." He teased. "Listen to your Stark master. You're not fit to be Father's heir. You're weak."

"And you're a bastard." Torrhen said firmly, knowing that that would rile him up. "You can't inherit anything."

Ramsay glared. "You're a child." He noted. "Who are you to tell me what I can do?"

"He is Torrhen, of House Stark." Daryn Hornwood said from behind Ramsay. "And the son of your Lord Paramount."

"When I'm Lord of the Dreadfort I'll have all your pink wolf pelts." Ramsay spat on the ground.

"That's not how we do things." Domeric said sharply, before Daryn could assault the bastard again.

"Flay them all!" The woman screamed, and Domeric yanked again, pressing the blade closer to her throat.

"Surrender now and come and join me at the Dreadfort." Dom pleaded. "We can help you; we can be a family."

Ramsay stared at Domeric, tilting his head in a way that made Torrhen want to shiver. "And why would I need a family?" He asked. "When I could get rid of you and be the undisputed heir."

Pandemonium broke out then. Reek had awoken from the trees and drew his sword, a move spotted by Arthur up at the top of the tower. Arthur's arrow flew at pace and punctured Reek in the throat. At the sound of the arrow Ramsay had reached into his boot and driven his knife into Daryn's leg. The Hornwood heir screamed, backhanding Ramsay back onto the ground. Domeric, shaken from the confession that Ramsay wanted him dead, slid his blade across Ramsay's mother's throat and then stood there, arms at his side in a frozen state as she dropped to the floor. Ramsay, enraged, rushed up towards the mourning Domeric with his arms out ready to strangle, screaming like a madman. He didn't reach his target however, as Winter's Bite was buried deep into the bastard's stomach.

Torrhen quickly withdrew the blade, having stepped across Domeric to save the Bolton heir. He kicked out at Ramsay sending him sprawling to the floor. Not giving him a chance to say or do anything, Torrhen looked down at him with hatred in his eyes. "In the name of Eddard of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. I, Torrhen of House Stark, Lord of Moat Cailin and Protector of the Causeway do sentence you to die." He swung downwards, and the Valyrian Steel cut cleanly through Ramsay's neck, his head bouncing away a couple of times before it stopped.

Torrhen's first ever kill had been a pimply faced boy wearing the sigil of House Lefford in the Whispering Wood just before his Father's death in his other life. He had forgotten the boys face long ago save for tiny details, but the screams had stayed with him until this day. The Stark knew that he would remember this kill though, as Ramsay's body slumped to the ground detached from his head. He wouldn't feel remorse, regret, guilt, or any of the other emotions that men felt after their first kills however, no Torrhen knew that would cherish this memory until the day he died.