Chapter 3: Gathering at Winterfell

Edd stood on Winterfell's battlements with Jon, Theon, and Robb, watching the endless stream of people on the King's Road. Carts and wagons stretched toward the horizon, disappearing into the distance.

When Winterfell's riders and ravens spread the news, it caused a stir across the North. People began gathering from all directions, making their way to Winterfell.

They came from the Deepwood Motte in the west, from the mountain clans in the north, from Last Hearth and Karhold. From the south, they came from the Streamlands and Barrowton. Others traveled from the villages beyond White Harbor, from Oldstone, Flint's Finger, Widow's Watch, and even from the Dreadfort. They drove cattle and sheep, hauled wagons laden with grain and supplies, and brought their families with them. It was a scene that had repeated itself through countless winters over thousands of years.

But this time, it was different—it was still summer.

Robb frowned. "Father, I don't understand. At first, you invited the people of the North to settle in the winter refuge town, but no one came. Why are so many people here now?"

Before Edd could reply, Theon cut in, "Lord Stark priced each house and one acre of land at 100 copper pennies. That's cheaper than a piglet. These farmers came for a bargain. And living here gives them a chance to hunt legally, which is rare. That's why they came."

Edd smiled. "Theon, you're partly right. But do you know the deeper reason?"

Theon shook his head.

Jon's voice was steady. "Lord Stark, I know the reason."

Edd turned to Jon. "They say bastards have sharp eyes for the truth. Tell me, Jon, why have they gathered here?"

"Because of their fear of winter," Jon answered coldly.

Exactly. That was the true reason.

Lord Stark had announced that once the winter refuge town's houses were sold, no more people would be allowed in when winter came. That terrified the Northerners.

Summer had already lasted for six years, but even the longest summer would eventually end. The old men of the North knew what winter could bring—some winters lasted a decade. Crops failed, food became scarce, and the cold turned the land into a frozen wasteland. The refuge town would be their only hope of survival.

When Edd first invited them to move there, many hesitated or ignored the offer. But once they heard that the town's houses were being sold at a low price—and that no more would be admitted once the houses were gone—fear drove them toward Winterfell.

Outside the walls, tents were being pitched. Vayon Poole, the castle steward, managed the sales. For 100 copper pennies, anyone could claim a house and an acre of land. People formed long lines.

Captain Jory Cassel led a group of horsemen and spearmen to maintain order. Farlen, the kennel master, stood nearby with his hounds, watching from a distance.

The carts arriving at the town were packed with supplies. Edd noticed an old man with a cart full of barrels of wine, a woman driving a wagon crammed with goats, and a boy whose ox-cart held cages of chickens, ducks, geese, and rabbits.

A butcher's cart carried slabs of pork. Arya stood nearby chatting with a butcher's boy while Bran followed his sister. Sansa, Jeyne Poole, and little Beth Cassel wove through the crowd with wide smiles.

When Lord Stark appeared, the crowd grew restless. People knelt to greet him.

A burly, silver-haired man stepped forward. "Lord Stark, my name is Carlon. I've been a blacksmith for decades in White Harbor and once worked in Karhold for Lord Karstark. Every winter, I brought my family to the refuge town. I was born here, as were my three sons and six grandchildren. This is home for us. I'll never forget the Stark family's kindness during the winters." He hesitated. "But coming here in summer… that's a first."

Edd smiled. "Carlon, settle here for good. We'll face the winter together. If you're willing, I could use another smith in Winterfell. We have Mikken, but he could use the help."

Carlon's eyes lit up. "It would be an honor, my lord. My sons and grandsons are all smiths or apprentices."

The refuge town was growing quickly. The existing mill, smithy, and inn were already overwhelmed. Edd was considering building a large forge, and Carlon's family would be invaluable.

Ten days later, every house in the refuge town was sold. Nearly twenty thousand people had moved in.

That night, Edd stood in his study, gazing out at the sea of lights beyond the walls. Candlelight and torchlight glimmered from every home.

Vayon Poole laid a thick ledger on the desk. "My lord, this is the list of all the new residents. The house sales, along with taxes, have brought in 286,600 copper pennies. The town is full, but more people are still arriving. Some are asking to stay in the castle."

Jory Cassel added, "The town is overcrowded. Maintaining order is becoming difficult. If more strangers move into the castle, we won't have enough guards to keep the peace. I suggest turning them away."

"No," Edd said firmly. "They traveled far with their families. We can't send them back. If we need more guards, we'll recruit from the townspeople."

He turned to Vayon. "Prepare the old First Keep for them. Clean out the cobwebs and rats. It'll be good enough."

Maester Luwin looked startled. "My lord, didn't you say that once the town was full, we wouldn't admit any more people?"

Edd sighed. "Yes, I did. It was a strategy to push the Northerners into settling here. I'm too soft-hearted to turn away my own people."

Vayon Poole's face tightened. "We have space now, my lord, but more people are coming up the King's Road. If we try to shelter everyone, Winterfell's supplies will run dry before winter even begins."

Edd smiled. "Don't be so pessimistic. These people have brought their own supplies, and it's not winter yet. Soon, we'll clear more land outside the walls. New farms will be established, and the granaries will only grow fuller."

"Perhaps," Vayon muttered, unconvinced. "I can handle things for now, but if more come, I won't know where to put them."

Edd's eyes reflected the glow of the lights outside.

"Then pitch the tents from the warehouse," he said. "Set up a temporary camp beyond the walls. We'll expand the town soon enough. When the next wave of people arrives, we'll be ready."

"Help the story climb the rankings! Don't forget to leave a Power Stone and share your thoughts in the comments if you enjoyed this chapter!"