Chapter 6: March Of Death

Robb

He was marching to war. Here he was all of ten and five years of age and marching to war. The straw that had broken the camel's back, the boy king on the throne Joffrey had arrested Robb's father and had accused him of treason. Robb did not believe the accusation for a moment. His father would never betray King Robert, he would never do anything that went against his friend's wishes, even if it went against his own- like sending Jon to the Wall- it was obvious to Robb that the Lannisters were trying to frame his father to hide their own crimes. He was convinced of this. They had tried to kill his brother twice, they were invading and pillaging his grandfather's lands, and now they accused his father of treason. Yes they were definitely trying to cover up their own misdeeds.

Robb had called the banners, and the lords of the north had come. Lords Umber, Bolton, Glover, Hornwood, Karstark, Tallhart, Flint and Lady Mormont had all come to Winterfell with their men and their own sworn bannermen. Strategies had been discussed, and Robb knew that he would have to prove his mettle to these men and lady, they were seasoned warriors and would more than likely think him a green boy playing at war. He had known that he would have to prove himself every inch his father's son. The first test had come at one of feasts held to welcome the Umbers to Winterfell. The Greatjon had been demanding that he lead the van instead of Lord Glover, and Robb had refused, the Greatjon had then gone onto question Robb, Robb had lost his temper then and Greywind had responded in kind by biting of two of the Greatjon's fingers. The man had laughed and ever since then Robb had had the man's unquestioning respect.

Strategies were discussed, and battle plans made and through it all there was one man, or rather one lord who remained quiet. Not saying a word, not doing anything. Lord Bolton. The man was eerily quiet at all times and it was unnerving. Robb remembered hearing stories about the Boltons from Old Nan when he was a boy, tales of how they were all flesh eaters or how they had fought with the Kings of Winter for centuries before the conquest before eventually bending the knee. Yes Robb thought he was in the right to remain suspicious of Lord Bolton, to a certain extent after all he did remember his father telling him that Lord Bolton had fought bravely during the rebellion and was also unlike some of his predecessors a loyal bannerman to Winterfell. Still, it wouldn't hurt to keep a close eye on him.

Another issue that Robb had had to face before they could actually begin the march south was who to leave in charge of the running of Winterfell. At present his mother and Ser Rodrik were still somewhere in the south, whether they were still in the Vale or nor Robb did not know, but until he did know he had planned on leaving Alys behind to help Bran run Winterfell. She had point blank refused to stay behind, insisting that if he was marching south so was she. Robb had argued with her, saying that her marching south was too risky, she was pregnant and could be carrying his heir, and whats more he couldn't stand the thought of losing her to some incident on the field, he had begged and pleaded with her to stay in Winterfell, and she had point blank refused. She had said that if he was marching south so was she, she wanted to be there for him, and then she had told him she loved him and Robb had felt so helpless in that moment that he had reluctantly agreed that she could come, so long as she was guarded throughout the duration of the war. Her father had laughed when Robb had told him that Alys was coming, saying that she had always been strong willed even as a child.

With that sorted Robb had left Winterfell in the hands of Bran and Maester Luwin, leaving behind some 500 men to hold the castle. And then with the men mustered had marched south to Moat Cailin, where Lord Manderly had sent his son Ser Wylis with 1500 men to join them. Even at Moat Cailin there was further discussions on battle plans and the best way to attack the Lannisters. Some like the Greatjon urged them to march straight for the Green Fork and finish Tywin Lannister of one and for all, others such as Lords Glover, Karstark and Bolton argued it would be more prudent to strike the Kingslayer's host and free Riverrun, due to the fact that the Kingslayer was much more rash than his father and would make a terrible decision along the way, Tywin Lannister was like to be more careful and calculated in his attacks.

That was when Robb's mother had arrived. She had been gone for two moons and Robb had never been so happy or so relieved to see her. He had greeted her and then asked if she still had the Imp as a hostage, and was most disappointed when she said that she did not. Once the rest of the lords had been dismissed for the night and it was just himself, Alys and his mother in the hall, she asked him how he planned on freeing his father. He talked about perhaps splitting their host in two and giving command of the second host to Lord Umber whilst he marched further south to free Riverrun, but then after some consideration decided to give Lord Bolton command of the second host. It seemed his mother approved of this decision, and when he mentioned his suspicions of Lord Bolton, Alys suggested perhaps placing her brother Harrion in charge of some men and placing them with Lord Bolton's host, for as she said, "Harry will be loyal Robb, he'll keep an eye on Lord Bolton for you." He had agreed and so had his mother.

Then had come trouble, they had been camped outside the Twins and were not able to pass, for Lord Walder Frey and his castle held the only available crossing to get south of the neck for miles around unless Robb wished to navigate round miles and miles of treacherous bogs, and swamps. Lord Frey had according to the scouts that Ser Brynden had set out called his swords to the Crossing, but as of yet whether he meant to declare for the Lannisters or not no one was sure, more than likely Robb's mother argued he was biding his time waiting to see who the winner would be. Then it had become apparent, Walder Frey wanted something, it seemed that he wanted marriages for his children, as Robb was already taken, Bran and Arya ended up being betrothed to either a granddaughter or a grandson and Robb ended up taking on Walder Frey's son Olyvar as a squire, even though Olyvar was many years older than him. The deal though was not all compromise on Robb's part , for Walder Frey gave him an extra two thousand men, and only asked that some 400 men be left behind and so Robb agreed though he disliked selling his brother and sister off like they were cattle, and the northern host split into two, with Lord Bolton taking 16,000 men south to the Green Fork, whilst Robb marched further south to deal with the Kingslayer the siege of Riverrun.

They rode quickly and as quietly as possible, sending outriders to prevent any scouts from warning the Kingslayer of their approach, and when they entered the Whispering Wood, the foundations of the trap were being set. The Kingslayer was impulsive and would be prone to making rash decisions, Robb decided to play on that. He sent the outriders under his uncle the Blackfish bearing Tully colours to tempt the Kingslayer out of his camp, and whilst that was happening began harrying the Lannister supply trains along with some 1,000 men. Once the men protecting the supply trains had been killed, Robb heard the horns sounding of Lady Mormont, Lord Umber and Lord Karstark bidding farewell to his wife and to his mother, Robb donned his helm and led the charge.

It was frenzy, there was a mass of bodies, armour and horses in Robb's line of vision as he hacked and slashed his way through the Lannister host. He cut one man's arm off, and felt it as Greywind then tore the man's throat out. He then shoved his sword through the chest of a man wearing the crimson of the Lannisters, and then engaged in a dance of steel with a man wearing the boar of House Crakehall. Sparks flew from their swords as they both battered each other's defences, swinging, hacking and cutting. Armour was dented, cuts were made and blood flowed from their wounds. Until eventually Robb gained the upper hand he feinted to the right, drawing the man out and then parried the man's sword swing just as Greywind leapt from where he was on the ground and tore into the man's throat.

Robb rode on, continuing the hacking and slashing and cutting through of men who stood in his path. Beside him Greywind tore the throats out of any man who wore Lannister livery that got past Robb's guards or that Robb did not have the chance to kill himself. To his left, Eddard Karstark who served as part of his guard sliced through opponent after opponent just like Alys said he would, he glided through the ranks of Lannister men staining the ground and his sword red. To his right, Dacey Mormont another one of his guards used her morning star to cudgel several Lannister men to death, their heads caved in by the force of the blows from her weapon.

Robb continued hacking and slashing his way through the Lannister men, killing more and more men as he went, staining the grounds of the Whispering Wood red with Lannister blood. He felt hope begin to bloom in his chest, the Lannisters were losing, they were winning, and he was winning. Then he heard the Kingslayer's voice. "STARK!" the man bellowed. "Come out and fight, or are you too craven?"

Robb bristled at the man's taunts and would have rode on through the mass of bodies in his way had Dacey not put a restraining hand on his horse's reins. "Leave him be," she hissed. "We'll deal with him." Robb saw Daryn Hornwood advance forward sword raised, and watched horrified as his friend didn't even land a blow on the Kingslayer's person but was instead cut down and opened up from head to toe, his guts and insides pouring open. Next was Domeric Liddle another of his personal guard rode forward, Robb heard the clashing of steel and saw sparks flying before his very eyes as Domeric and the Kingslayer fought. For every blow Domeric landed on the Kingslayer, the man landed three on Domeric and then with one quick thrust the Kingslayer buried his sword into Domeric's throat before he pulled it out and continued forward.

"Come on Stark, come out and fight!" The Kingslayer bellowed, Robb tense but Dacey would not let go of his horse's reigns. Beside him he heard Greywind growl menacingly, Eddard Karstark rode forward then sword raised. And they danced. Karstark and Lannister danced the dance of steel. The Kingslayer thrust, Eddard parried, Eddard swung, the Kingslayer hacked. The exchanged blows and wounds and cuts and dents, until both were bleeding quite severly and then Eddard raised his sword once more but as he was bringing it down the Kingslayer thrust his sword forward and buried it deep within Robb's good brother's chest.

Eddard Karstark fell of off his horse and to the ground, his brother Torrhen rode up to take his place. But lasted less time than even Daryn Hornwood did, for he was already injured from the battle and missing a hand besides. The Kingslayer made short work of Robb's other good brother and then spurred his horse forward, Wendel Manderly, Smalljon Umber and Owen Norrey all moved their horses forward in a protective arc around Robb, who sat stunned on his horse, Greywind growled menacingly.

"Move aside my lords and let me at the Young Wolf. Move aside and once he is dead, I shall ask my nephew to pardon you." The Kingslayer said.

"Never," replied Wendel Manderly.

"I would rather die than be pardoned by a Lannister." Replied the Smalljon.

"We die before he does." Owen Norrey replied.

"Very well then, die you shall." Replied the Kingslayer as he drew his golden sword which was stained red with blood.

But before he could so much as move, an arrow came whizzing out of the air and pierced his horse's neck, followed by several other arrows that pierced the rest of the horse's body causing it to fall down to the ground, but not before the Kingslayer had jumped off of it. His sword still drawn he advanced forward, slowly, menacingly. Robb was rooted to the spot unable to move even if he wanted to, the men of his guard tightened up their arc of protection around him. Another arrow whizzed through the air and soared over the heads of the arc and landed just in front of the Kingslayer, stopping him and giving Ser Wendel just enough time to spur his horse forward far enough that he could club the Kingslayer with the flat end of his sword hard enough to knock the man out.

Robb turned to see a grinning Theon Greyjoy with his bow drawn. "Well that was fun." Greyjoy said a hint of laughter in his voice.

"What would you like use to do with the Kingslayer my lord?" Owen Norrey asked.

Robb shook himself out of the daze he had been in and said, "Put him in chains. Finish of any Lannister soldiers you see trying to flee."

The rest of the battle past in a blur for Robb, those men who were part of Jaime Lannister's party in the Whispering Wood were either killed fighting or as they tried to flee, or taken prisoner. At the end of it Robb rode back to the clearing where his wife and mother awaited, riding not on the black stallion he had ridden out on, but on a brown warhorse, the Kingslayer dragged along in chains and thrown at his mother and wife's feet.

Even in defeat the Kingslayer was cocky. "My ladies how very nice to see you. I would offer you my sword but I seem to have mislaid it."

Robb's mother looked at the man with cold eyes. "It is not your sword I want ser. Give me my father and my brother Edmure. Give me my daughters and my lord husband."

"I'm afraid I can't, I've mislaid them too, it would appear."

"A pity."

Robb continued looking at the Kingslayer as more words were bandied about, at the end though Robb had heard enough. "Take him away." Men hastened to obey.

Later as he walked back to the campsite with his mother and wife by his side, he heard Alys ask. "Where are Torr and Ed Robb?"

Robb felt something tighten in his throat; he struggled to get the words out and could not look at his wife when he did speak. "He killed them, the Kingslayer did, he buried his sword and split them open. If I had been able to, had I not..." he trailed off unable to go on and terrified his wife would hate him now that her brothers were dead and he was responsible for their deaths.

But Alys reassured him. "You couldn't have done anything my lord. Torr and Ed died doing their duty to their liege. We still must free Riverrun, and then we can grieve."

His mother nodded. "You did well today Robb but Riverrun is still under siege and until it is freed this is not over."

That night they retook Riverrun. The Lannister encampments surrounding Riverrun were left almost leaderless due to the capturing of the Kingslayer, and when the Blackfish set out that night, he was given orders to spare not a single soldier. Robb watched his great uncle lead the men given to him and soon the shouts of Winterfell and Tully could be heard as could the screams of the Lannister men as they were killed in their tents by the flames of the torches or by the swords and spears through the chest as they hastily tried to put on armour and defend themselves. Then when Tytos Brax led the charge to try and defend his fellow Westerlanders Robb led his men into charge, and soon he had a chance to avenge the deaths of his fallen friends. He hacked down one man wearing the crimson red of the Lannisters. He cut open a man wearing the Brax colours and then he lopped of the head of a third man wearing the livery of House Westerling.

Men on Riverrun's walls fired rocks at the rafts thus preventing more men from coming and helping their fellow comrades. Lord Umber fired the siege towers and broke the reserve of the Lannister men camped around Riverrun, and when the Lannister men led by Ser Tybolt Crakehall tried to form a shield wall to defend themselves they were cut down in the rear by a sortie led by Lord Blackwood.

Robb continued hacking and slashing at the Lannister soldiers, bloodying his sword and his armour and littering the ground with dead bodies as Greywind tore into any man Robb left behind or did not have the chance to deal with himself. He kept fighting, his sword never once went down or back into its sheath during the night, and when he heard the sounding of horns being blown, the sound of victory and he heard Greywind howl in response and saw the Lannister encampment aflame he felt something primal within him begin to stir, something hungry, and he tasted something that felt like victory and something that felt like justice.

Riverrun was free, for now.

Sansa

The walls of the throne room had been stripped bare, the hunting tapestries that King Robert loved taken down and stacked in the corner in an untidy heap.

Ser Mandon Moore went to take his place under the throne beside two of his fellows of the Kingsguard. Sansa hovered by the door, for once unguarded. The queen had given her freedom of the castle as a reward for being good, yet even so, she was escorted everywhere she went. "Honour guards for my daughter-to-be," the queen called them, but they did not make Sansa feel honoured.

"Freedom of the castle" meant that she could go wherever she chose within the Red Keep so long as she promised not to go beyond the walls, a promise Sansa had been more than willing to give. She couldn't have gone beyond the walls anyway. The gates were watched day and night by Janos Slynt's gold cloaks, and Lannister house guards were always about as well. Besides, even if she could leave the castle, where would she go? It was enough that she could walk in the yard, pick flowers in Myrcella's garden, and visit the sept to pray for her father. Sometimes she prayed in the godswood as well, since the Starks kept the old gods.

This was the first court session of Joffrey's reign, so Sansa looked about nervously. A line of Lannister house guards stood beneath the western windows, a line of gold-cloaked City Watchmen beneath the east. Of smallfolk and commoners, she saw no sign, but under the gallery a cluster of lords great and small milled restlessly. There were no more than twenty, where a hundred had been accustomed to wait upon King Robert.

Sansa slipped in among them, murmuring greetings as she worked her way toward the front. She recognized black-skinned Jalabhar Xho, gloomy Ser Aron Santagar, the Redwyne twins Horror and Slobber . . . only none of them seemed to recognize her. Or if they did, they shied away as if she had the grey plague. Sickly Lord Gyles covered his face at her approach and feigned a fit of coughing, and when funny drunken Ser Dontos started to hail her, Ser Balon Swann whispered in his ear and he turned away.

And so many others were missing. Where had the rest of them gone? Sansa wondered. Vainly, she searched for friendly faces. Not one of them would meet her eyes. It was as if she had become a ghost, dead before her time.

Grand Maester Pycelle was seated alone at the council table, seemingly asleep, his hands clasped together atop his beard. She saw Lord Varys hurry into the hall, his feet making no sound. A moment later Lord Baelish entered through the tall doors in the rear, smiling. He chatted amiably with Ser Balon and Ser Dontos as he made his way to the front. Butterflies fluttered nervously in Sansa's stomach. I shouldn't be afraid, she told herself. I have nothing to be afraid of, it will all come out well, Joff loves me and the queen does too, she said so.

A herald's voice rang out. "All hail His Grace, Joffrey of the Houses Baratheon and Lannister, the First of his Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. All hail his lady mother, Cersei of House Lannister, Queen Regent, Light of the West, and Protector of the Realm."

Ser Barristan Selmy, resplendent in white plate, led them in. Ser Arys Oakheart escorted the queen, while Ser Boros Blount walked beside Joffrey, so six of the Kingsguard were now in the hall, all the White Swords save Jaime Lannister alone. Her prince—no, her king now!—took the steps of the Iron Throne two at a time, while his mother was seated with the council. Joff wore plush black velvets slashed with crimson, a shimmering cloth-of-gold cape with a high collar, and on his head a golden crown crusted with rubies and black diamonds.

When Joffrey turned to look out over the hall, his eye caught Sansa's. He smiled, seated himself, and spoke. "It is a king's duty to punish the disloyal and reward those who are true. Grand Maester Pycelle, I command you to read my decrees."

Pycelle pushed himself to his feet. He was clad in a magnificent robe of thick red velvet, with an ermine collar and shiny gold fastenings. From a drooping sleeve, heavy with gilded scrollwork, he drew a parchment, unrolled it, and began to read a long list of names, commanding each in the name of king and council to present themselves and swear their fealty to Joffrey. Failing that, they would be adjudged traitors, their lands and titles forfeit to the throne.

The names he read made Sansa hold her breath. Lord Stannis Baratheon, his lady wife, his daughter. Lord Renly Baratheon. Both Lord Royces and their sons. Ser Loras Tyrell. Lord Mace Tyrell, his brothers, uncles, sons. The red priest, Thoros of Myr. Lord Beric Dondarrion. Lady Lysa Arryn and her son, the little Lord Robert. Lord Hoster Tully, his brother Ser Brynden, his son Ser Edmure. Lord Jason Mallister. Lord Bryce Caron of the Marches. Lord Tytos Blackwood. Lord Walder Frey and his heir Ser Stevron. Lord Karyl Vance. Lord Jonos Bracken. Lady Sheila Whent. Doran Martell, Prince of Dorne, and all his sons. So many, she thought as Pycelle read on and on, it will take a whole flock of ravens to send out these commands.

And at the end, near last, came the names Sansa had been dreading. Lady Catelyn Stark. Robb Stark. Brandon Stark, Rickon Stark, Arya Stark. Sansa stifled a gasp. Arya. They wanted Arya to present herself and swear an oath . . . it must mean her sister had fled on the galley, she must be safe at Winterfell by now . . .

Grand Maester Pycelle rolled up the list, tucked it up his left sleeve, and pulled another parchment from his right. He cleared his throat and resumed. "In the place of the traitor Eddard Stark, it is the wish of His Grace that Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West, take up the office of Hand of the King, to speak with his voice, lead his armies against his enemies, and carry out his royal will. So the king has decreed. The small council consents.

"In the place of the traitor Stannis Baratheon, it is the wish of His Grace that his lady mother, the Queen Regent Cersei Lannister, who has ever been his staunchest support, be seated upon his small council, that she may help him rule wisely and with justice. So the king has decreed. The small council consents."

Sansa heard a soft murmuring from the lords around her, but it was quickly stilled. Pycelle continued.

"It is also the wish of His Grace that his loyal servant, Janos Slynt, Commander of the City Watch of King's Landing, be at once raised to the rank of lord and granted the ancient seat of Harrenhal with all its attendant lands and incomes, and that his sons and grandsons shall hold these honours after him until the end of time. It is moreover his command that Lord Slynt be seated immediately upon his small council, to assist in the governance of the realm. So the king has decreed. The small council consents."

Sansa glimpsed motion from the corner of her eye as Janos Slynt made his entrance. This time the muttering was louder and angrier. Proud lords whose houses went back thousands of years made way reluctantly for the balding, frog-faced commoner as he marched past. Golden scales had been sewn onto the black velvet of his doublet and rang together softly with each step. His cloak was checked black-and-gold satin. Two ugly boys who must have been his sons went before him, struggling with the weight of a heavy metal shield as tall as they were. For his sigil he had taken a bloody spear, gold on a night-black field. The sight of it raised goose prickles up and down Sansa's arms.

As Lord Slynt took his place, Grand Maester Pycelle resumed. "Lastly, in these times of treason and turmoil, with our beloved Robert so lately dead, it is the view of the council that the life and safety of King Joffrey is of paramount importance . . . " He looked to the queen.

Cersei stood. "Ser Barristan Selmy, stand forth."

Ser Barristan had been standing at the foot of the Iron Throne, as still as any statue, but now he went to one knee and bowed his head. "Your Grace, I am yours to command."

"Rise, Ser Barristan," Cersei Lannister said. "You may remove your helm."

"My lady?" Standing, the old knight took off his high white helm, though he did not seem to understand why.

"You have served the realm long and faithfully, good ser, and every man and woman in the Seven Kingdoms owes you thanks. Yet now I fear your service is at an end. It is the wish of king and council that you lay down your heavy burden."

"My . . . burden? I fear I . . . I do not . . . "

The new-made lord, Janos Slynt, spoke up, his voice heavy and blunt. "Her Grace is trying to tell you that you are relieved as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard."

The tall, white-haired knight seemed to shrink as he stood there, scarcely breathing. "Your Grace," he said at last. "The Kingsguard is a Sworn Brotherhood. Our vows are taken for life. Only death may relieve the Lord Commander of his sacred trust."

"Whose death, Ser Barristan?" The queen's voice was soft as silk, but her words carried the whole length of the hall. "Yours, or your king's?"

"You let my father die," Joffrey said accusingly from atop the Iron Throne. "You're too old to protect anybody."

Sansa watched as the knight peered up at his new king. She had never seen him look his years before, yet now he did. "Your Grace," he said. "I was chosen for the White Swords in my twenty-third year. It was all I had ever dreamed, from the moment I first took sword in hand. I gave up all claim to my ancestral keep. The girl I was to wed married my cousin in my place, I had no need of land or sons, my life would be lived for the realm. Ser Gerold Hightower himself heard my vows . . . to ward the king with all my strength . . . to give my blood for his . . . I fought beside the White Bull and Prince Lewyn of Dorne . . . beside Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning. Before I served your father, I helped shield King Aerys, and his father Jaehaerys before him . . . three kings . . . "

"And all of them dead," Littlefinger pointed out.

"Your time is done," Cersei Lannister announced. "Joffrey requires men around him who are young and strong. The council has determined that Ser Jaime Lannister will take your place as the Lord Commander of Sworn Brothers of the White Swords."

"The Kingslayer," Ser Barristan said, his voice hard with contempt. "The false knight who profaned his blade with the blood of the king he had sworn to defend."

"Have a care for your words, ser," the queen warned. "You are speaking of our beloved brother, your king's own blood."

Lord Varys spoke, gentler than the others. "We are not unmindful of your service, good ser. Lord Tywin Lannister has generously agreed to grant you a handsome tract of land north of Lannisport, beside the sea, with gold and men sufficient to build you a stout keep, and servants to see to your every need."

Ser Barristan looked up sharply. "A hall to die in, and men to bury me. I thank you, my lords . . . but I spit upon your pity." He reached up and undid the clasps that held his cloak in place, and the heavy white garment slithered from his shoulders to fall in a heap on the floor. His helmet dropped with a clang. "I am a knight," he told them. He opened the silver fastenings of his breastplate and let that fall as well. "I shall die a knight."

"A naked knight, it would seem," quipped Littlefinger.

They all laughed then, Joffrey on his throne, and the lords standing attendance, Janos Slynt and Queen Cersei and Sandor Clegane and even the other men of the Kingsguard, the five who had been his brothers until a moment ago. Surely that must have hurt the most, Sansa thought. Her heart went out to the gallant old man as he stood shamed and red-faced, too angry to speak. Finally he drew his sword.

Sansa heard someone gasp. Ser Boros and Ser Meryn moved forward to confront him, but Ser Barristan froze them in place with a look that dripped contempt. "Have no fear, sers, your king is safe . . . no thanks to you. Even now, I could cut through the five of you as easy as a dagger cuts cheese. If you would serve under the Kingslayer, not a one of you is fit to wear the white." He flung his sword at the foot of the Iron Throne. "Here, boy. Melt it down and add it to the others, if you like. It will do you more good than the swords in the hands of these five. Perhaps Lord Stannis will chance to sit on it when he takes your throne."

He took the long way out, his steps ringing loud against the floor and echoing off the bare stone walls. Lords and ladies parted to let him pass. Not until the pages had closed the great oak-and-bronze doors behind him did Sansa hear sounds again: soft voices, uneasy stirrings, the shuffle of papers from the council table. "He called me boy," Joffrey said peevishly, sounding younger than his years. "He talked about my uncle Stannis too."

"Idle talk," said Varys the eunuch. "Without meaning . . . "

"He could be making plots with my uncles. I want him seized and questioned." No one moved. Joffrey raised his voice. "I said, I want him seized!"

Janos Slynt rose from the council table. "My gold cloaks will see to it, Your Grace."

"Good," said King Joffrey. Lord Janos strode from the hall, his ugly sons double-stepping to keep up as they lugged the great metal shield with the arms of House Slynt.

"Your Grace," Littlefinger reminded the king. "If we might resume, the seven are now six. We find ourselves in need of a new sword for your Kingsguard."

Joffrey smiled. "Tell them, Mother."

"The king and council have determined that no man in the Seven Kingdoms is more fit to guard and protect His Grace than his sworn shield, Sandor Clegane."

"How do you like that, dog?" King Joffrey asked.

The Hound's scarred face was hard to read. He took a long moment to consider. "Why not? I have no lands nor wife to forsake, and who'd care if I did?" The burned side of his mouth twisted. "But I warn you, I'll say no knight's vows."

"The Sworn Brothers of the Kingsguard have always been knights," Ser Boros said firmly.

"Until now," the Hound said in his deep rasp, and Ser Boros fell silent.

When the king's herald moved forward, Sansa realized the moment was almost at hand. She smoothed down the cloth of her skirt nervously. She was dressed in mourning, as a sign of respect for the dead king, but she had taken special care to make herself beautiful. Her gown was the ivory silk that the queen had given her, the one Arya had ruined, but she'd had them dye it black and you couldn't see the stain at all. She had fretted over her jewelry for hours and finally decided upon the elegant simplicity of a plain silver chain.

The herald's voice boomed out. "If any man in this hall has other matters to set before His Grace, let him speak now or go forth and hold his silence."

Sansa quailed. Now, she told herself, I must do it now. Gods give me courage. She took one step, then another. Lords and knights stepped aside silently to let her pass, and she felt the weight of their eyes on her. I must be as strong as my lady mother. "Your Grace," she called out in a soft, tremulous voice.

The height of the Iron Throne gave Joffrey a better vantage point than anyone else in the hall. He was the first to see her. "Come forward, my lady," he called out, smiling.

His smile emboldened her, made her feel beautiful and strong. He does love me, he does. Sansa lifted her head and walked toward him, not too slow and not too fast. She must not let them see how nervous she was.

"The Lady Sansa, of House Stark," the herald cried.

She stopped under the throne, at the spot where Ser Barristan's white cloak lay puddled on the floor beside his helm and breastplate. "Do you have some business for king and council, Sansa?" the queen asked from the council table.

"I do." She knelt on the cloak, so as not to spoil her gown, and looked up at her prince on his fearsome black throne. "As it please Your Grace, I ask mercy for my father, Lord Eddard Stark, who was the Hand of the King." She had practiced the words a hundred times.

The queen sighed. "Sansa, you disappoint me. What did I tell you about traitor's blood?"

"Your father has committed grave and terrible crimes, my lady," Grand Maester Pycelle intoned.

"Ah, poor sad thing," sighed Varys. "She is only a babe, my lords, she does not know what she asks."

Sansa had eyes only for Joffrey. He must listen to me, he must, she thought. The king shifted on his seat, "Let her speak," he commanded. "I want to hear what she says."

"Thank you, Your Grace." Sansa smiled, a shy secret smile, just for him. He was listening. She knew he would.

"Treason is a noxious weed," Pycelle declared solemnly. "It must be torn up, root and stem and seed, lest new traitors sprout from every roadside."

"Do you deny your father's crime?" Lord Baelish asked.

"No, my lords." Sansa knew better than that. "I know he must be punished. All I ask is mercy. I know my lord father must regret what he did. He was King Robert's friend and he loved him, you all know he loved him. He never wanted to be Hand until the king asked him. They must have lied to him. Lord Renly or Lord Stannis or . . . or somebody, they must have lied, otherwise . . . "

King Joffrey leaned forward, hands grasping the arms of the throne. Broken sword points fanned out between his fingers. "He said I wasn't the king. Why did he say that?"

"His leg was broken," Sansa replied eagerly. "It hurt ever so much, Maester Pycelle was giving him milk of the poppy, and they say that milk of the poppy fills your head with clouds. Otherwise he would never have said it."

Varys said, "A child's faith . . . such sweet innocence . . . and yet, they say wisdom oft comes from the mouths of babes."

"Treason is treason," Pycelle replied at once.

Joffrey rocked restlessly on the throne. "Mother?"

Cersei Lannister considered Sansa thoughtfully. "If Lord Eddard were to confess his crime," she said at last, "we would know he had repented his folly."

Joffrey pushed himself to his feet. Please, Sansa thought, please, please, be the king I know you are, good and kind and noble, please. "Do you have any more to say?" he asked her.

"Only . . . that as you love me, you do me this kindness, my prince," Sansa said.

King Joffrey looked her up and down. "Your sweet words have moved me," he said gallantly, nodding, as if to say all would be well. "I shall do as you ask . . . but first your father has to confess. He has to confess and say that I'm the king, or there will be no mercy for him."

"He will," Sansa said, heart soaring. "Oh, I know he will."

And so like the good lady she was Sansa had gone and spoken to her father, had begged him to confess that what he had said in the throne room was not true. She had expected her father to protest to do anything, but he had merely nodded meekly, and told her he would. And so Sansa had left his cell feeling happier than she had in a long, long time. Of Arya there was no news, she had not been found, but her gallant prince had told her that her cousin Jeyne and her aunt Ashara would be coming to King's Landing soon, to visit and to help bring Princess Myrcella to Dorne. That only served to increase her happiness she liked her cousin Jeyne and she liked her Aunt Ashara and maybe then everything would be alright.

That was what she kept telling herself as she made her way to the Great Sept of Baelor, her father would admit that what he had said was wrong and her gallant prince Joffrey would spare him and allows him to go home, and if they were lucky they would find Arya. That was what was running through her head as her father began to speak.

"I am Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell. I come before you to confess my treason."

The crowd began to murmur, Sansa continued looking at her father willing him to go on. Praying that what was right would happen. Her father continued. "I betrayed the faith and trust of my king and friend King Robert Baratheon the first of his name, may he rest in peace. I swore to defend and protect his children, yet before his blood was cold, I plotted to depose and murder his son and seize the throne for myself. Let the High Septon and Baelor the beloved and the Seven bear witness to the truth of what I say: Joffrey Baratheon is the one true heir to the Iron Throne, and by the grace of all the gods, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."

More murmuring followed the end of her father's confession; stones came out of the crowd and struck her father in the head. Her lord father remained stoically still, he did not move nor did he falter when the stones hit him and drew blood. The High Septon stood forward. "This man has confessed his sins and his treason. As we sin to do the gods forgive us. What is to be done with this man Your Grace?"

Her gallant prince stepped forward then and Sansa felt hope bloom in her chest, her father would be cleared, he would be free, she knew it, Joffrey had promised. "My lady mother and the Lady Sansa have begged me to spare Lord Eddard, to grant him mercy and allow him to take the black," he turned to look at her and smiled. Then went on. "But they have the weak hearts of women. So long as I am king, know that treason shall not go unpunished. Ser Illyn bring me his head."

Sansa screamed then and fell to her knees sobbing trying to beg for mercy, Varys rushed forward, Pycelle stuttered and stumbled, her father was forced to his knees and his head placed on the chopping block, Ser Illyn raised his sword- it looked familiar- and brought it down and separated her father's head from his body, Sansa screamed and sobbed and then she fainted and knew no more.

Alys

The aftermath of a battle, as Alys was quickly finding was when men's blood ran the highest. After the battle of Whispering Wood, Robb had come back to their tent and made love to her so passionately and so fiercely, she had thought she might have been in paradise. Afterwards as they laid beside each other strewn on their bed, Robb's hand splayed protectively over her swelling stomach, Robb had sighed and said, "I understand if you hate me Alys. Truly I do."

She had been confused. "Why would I hate you Robb? You haven't done anything to harm me have you?"

He turned to face her then, his eyes were so full of hurt Alys wanted to kiss it all away, and instead she waited for him to speak. "I'm still alive whilst Torr and Ed are dead. They died because I wasn't man enough to fight the Kingslayer myself, it should have been me."

"Don't ever say that Robb, don't you dare say that," she had said passionately. "Torr and Ed died doing their duty protecting their liege lord and their good brother. Whilst I am sad that they are dead and will mourn them, I am glad that you are safe and are here with me," she locked their fingers together and moved them down to her belly. "With us."

Robb had given her a watery smile then. "Do you think it will be a boy or a girl?" he had asked.

"A girl I think, I'm not carrying low enough for it to be a boy." She had replied.

Robb had smiled then and said. "I will be late coming back to the tent tonight. We have to fight the Lannisters once more. I'll have Owen and Ned stand guard outside our tent to protect you."

She had been about to refuse but looking into her husband's eyes she knew that doing so would be futile and so she had nodded and had kissed him goodbye that night as he had ridden off to fight yet another battle. She had stood there for a long moment unsure of what to do with herself, and so had walked back to their tent, when her good mother had stopped her. "I know it can be difficult seeing your husband off to fight,"

Alys had looked at her good mother, had looked at the worry lines that were mapped across her face and asked. "Does it ever get easier?"

Lady Catelyn had smiled a sad smile then and said "No it never does. I sent Ned off to fight in the rebellion when I barely knew him. Then again when the Greyjoy's rebelled and once more when he went to King's Landing and each time it gets harder and harder. But we stick through it and carry on, for as the Stark words say winter is coming."

She had left her good mother then and entered her and Robb's tent and spent the next few hours awake, unable to sleep for waiting to hear news of the battle. The early lights of dawn were just beginning to creep through the tent when she heard the cheering of men and the galloping of hooves. She went outside to see what all the commotion was about. "Lord Stark has returned my lady." Owen Norrey told her. She ran to where the noises were coming from, not caring about how unladylike she might have looked and when she saw Robb, standing there giving the reigns of his horse to his squire, his armour covered in mood and blood she threw herself into his arms. And then leaned up and kissed him and kissed him until they were both breathless, earning more than a few catcalls from those men nearby.

Robb had smiled at her then, his cheeks going a faint red. "I'm pleased to see you too my love."

"How did it go?" she asked.

Robb's face became somber and solemn then. "We finished them off, but 1000 of their men still managed to flee. Riverrun is safe though."

"And my father?" she asked terrified.

"He is well, he received an injury but he is well." Robb replied.

They had been preparing to move everything to Riverrun when news had come from King's Landing. Dark Wings, Dark Words was the common saying and the news that this raven brought was particularly dire and dampened the celebratory mood of the men, and crushed Robb and Lady Catelyn. Lord Eddard was dead, beheaded for treason on the orders of King Joffrey.

Something inside of Robb had broken when he had read the words of his father's death. Alys knew, she could see it in the way his eyes began to redden, in the way his hands began to shake. He had left for the godswood and she had not seen him since, and she was beginning to get worried, so she left her father's company and walked toward where she had been told the godswood of Riverrun was.

It was there she found her husband hacking and slashing at a weirwood tree with his sword, denting it and tearing bark of the tree. He was crying she could see that clearly, could hear it in his shallow breathing. Lady Catelyn came and stood beside her and spoke. "Oh Robb," she said.

Robb looked up through tear stained eyes at his mother then her, "You've damaged your sword now Robb." Catelyn said.

Robb looked at his sword and through it down to the ground where it hit with a resounding clatter. He stood there in front of them for a long moment, then he all but ran into his mother's outstretched arms. She heard him mumbling oaths into his mother's shoulder and then he looked up and looked at her and said "I'll kill them all, every single last one of them. I'll kill them all."

Alys felt her heart break into tiny pieces for her husband, lady Catelyn replied. "First we must get the girls back and then we'll kill them all."

Robb sniffled and then broke off from his mother's hug to embrace Alys, Alys held him tight and kissed his cheek before he broke off from her and walked back toward the castle. Greywind appeared and followed him back. Alys watched her husband walk back to the castle with her heart heavy.

"Look after him Alys, he will need you now more so than ever." She heard her good mother say.

"I know," she said. "I will." She promised.

Later that day, she found herself sat in a council meeting with her husband and good mother. Listening to the lords bicker about whom to declare for, they were arguing like children. One lord saying they should declare for Stannis, the other saying they should declare for Renly. The biggest surprise though was when her good mother said they should sue for peace. Robb replied that the only peace he had for the Lannisters was the sword he held in his hand, Alys felt her nerves beginning to worsen.

Then the Greatjon bellowed through the commotion. "My lords, this is what I have to say for Stannis and Renly," he spat onto the ground and several of the lords gathered laughed. "Why should they rule over me and mine from some flowery seat in the south. What do they know of the Wolfswood, of the wall, of the north? Nothing that is what," he drew his great two handed longsword, and pointed it at Robb. "There is the only king I mean to follow. The King In the North!" He knelt and laid his sword at her husband's feet.

"I'll have peace on those terms," Alys heard her father say. "They can keep their iron chair and their red keep." He drew forth his longsword and laid it beside the Greatjon and kneeled beside the Greatjon. "The King in the North."

"The king of winter!" Maege Mormont cried as she laid her mace next to the two longswords. Soon others took up the cry, and the riverlords, men who had never been ruled from Winterfell in ages past took to the knee and laid their weapons at her husband's feet. "The King and Queen in the North!" Theon Greyjoy shouted.

Alys felt herself shiver and she gripped Robb's hand and held it tightly. Winter was Coming now, the North would make sure of it.