On the household's first morning in the new house, Robb came downhill before dawn expecting swords. Two lanterns burned above House Black's gate, and beyond them four files of six were gathering. Jon stood with Tomas near the gate, fastening the leather guard about his wrist. The cut from the boar spear had closed, though the scar was still tender beneath it.
"Have I missed it?" Robb asked. He swung down from Apple and passed Harwin the reins.
"We have not begun. You can run beside Rylas."
"I meant the swords."
Jon smiled. "After breakfast."
Lady Stark had ordered Harwin to stay with Robb. Heward showed him the strip beside the field and warned him they would go round four times. Harwin tied Apple under the eaves and followed them into the mist.
Gage beckoned Edden into the right file. Tomas counted twenty-five, but Jon waited while Gared changed a boot with a loose sole. Then he led the exercises: shoulders turning, knees bending, one leg stretched behind with the heel pressed down. The files knew the movements; Robb copied them while Arthur corrected feet and backs.
"Ser Rodrik never made me do this," Robb said.
"He will if he comes down often enough," Jon answered. Heward struck his staff against the gatepost, and they set off.
The first circuit was easy. On the second Robb warmed through, and by the third his right heel was rubbing. Heward had called Edden out to walk beside him after two turns; the others went on, Rylas shortening his stride when Fergus began to lag. Jon ran in Gage's file, his shorter legs working faster than those of the older boys. Near the last turn Tomas came past to count them. Robb quickened, determined to beat him to the gate.
"With us, my lord," Rylas called.
Robb had almost drawn level with Tomas. He glanced back at Fergus, who was red-faced and breathing hard, and reluctantly slowed. The file reached the gate together. Harwin arrived after them, pulling at the neck of his coat.
"Next time," Robb told Tomas, "we race properly."
"If Heward allows it, my lord." Tomas was still catching his breath, but he grinned.
The boys and their officers rose for Jon at breakfast. Robb had seen men stand for his father all his life. It was strange to watch them wait for Jon, who had to pull his chair closer before sitting. Jon waved them down. There were oats with milk and apples, eggs, crisp onions and thin slices of yesterday's meat.
At the next table Edden ate the apples first and slipped an egg beneath his bread. Mairi noticed as she brought the ale.
"You may have another if you want it."
"I am keeping this one."
"For later? Then I'll put it in the kitchen for you." He hesitated before surrendering it. Jon passed him the salt. Tomas reported that the new shield rims were in the armoury; Olyver had helped fit them last night.
When Robb rose, his heel hurt enough to make him catch the table. Harwin knelt to help with the boot. Blood had stained the back of the stocking.
"I have your other pair outside, my lord."
"The soft ones," Jon said. "You will want those tomorrow."
Robb looked up. "You think I'm coming again?"
"You have challenged Tomas."
Heward washed and bound the blister while Harwin fetched the soft boots. Outside, sacks of sand, paired water pails and short billets waited beneath the eaves. Jon carried a smaller sack across the yard, sweat darkening his black collar and plastering the pale lock to his cheek. Robb chose a heavier one; when his arms tired, Jon drew the sack closer against Robb's chest. Gage gave Edden a smaller load and stopped him after a few carries.
Ralf brought the garrons while they rested. Robb found a burr as they stripped and brushed the pads; Ralf checked the wool before letting him tighten the girth. They rode between close-set posts, changing from pairs to single file, halting and forming again. The oldest needed few corrections. Ralf stayed beside Edden when he lost his place at a turn.
Jon's dun garron passed between the posts with scarcely a touch of the rein. Robb watched it turn as Jon shifted his weight. He remembered how the crows came when Jon called and wondered whether he had taught the horse some private signal too. Then the dun stretched its neck to nibble a peeling strip of white paint, and Jon pulled it away.
"Hungry still?" Robb called.
"He ate more than you did." Jon turned the garron back into line, laughing.
After the horses had been rubbed down, Arthur brought shields and ash swords. Rodrik and six Winterfell guards waited with padded weapons. Heward put Robb beside Rylas; Arthur kept Edden aside to watch and repeat the footwork unopposed. The first rush jarred Robb's teeth and drove the line back three paces before the boys behind braced it. Fergus breathed close against his shoulder. Jon showed them the outer shield's turn while Arthur walked the line with his wand.
They changed sides. Tomas came at them with six boys, and Robb drove at him as soon as their shields met. His first blow landed; Tomas gave ground. Robb followed and struck again. A shield caught him under the arm. He stumbled against another boy and went down on the trampled ground as Tomas's men pushed through the gap.
"Hold!" Heward called.
Robb shoved himself upright, angry enough to swing again. Rylas was helping Gared up by the wall. Their whole file had been driven apart. Robb lowered his sword.
"I went too far."
"Stay beside me next time, my lord," Rylas said. He held out Robb's shield.
On the next pass Robb kept his place. He wanted to chase Tomas when the captain stepped back, but he saw Gage waiting beyond him and stayed shoulder to shoulder with Rylas. Tomas tried to force the middle. Robb turned the blow with his shield, and Fergus reached past him to touch Tomas's ribs with an ash blade.
"Dead," Ser Rodrik called from behind them.
Tomas sat on the ground. Robb laughed and offered him a hand when Heward ended the bout. "Fergus got you."
"Aye, my lord. I felt it." Tomas rubbed his side. "He usually does when I forget him."
Cold beef, curds, onions and heels of bread made the midday meal beneath the open eaves. The boys sat by file without being told. Gage's little brother pressed his face between the rails until Gage sent him a crust. Rylas traded half an onion for Finnan's curds. Robb sat between Fergus and Cressen, listening to them argue over which blow had left the bruise on his shoulder.
Gared caught a bowl with his elbow as he reached across Fergus for the salt. It fell from the bench and split. Alys hurried from the kitchen and picked up the pieces before anyone could step on them.
"Take it from my wage, my lord," she said to Jon. "He should have asked to have it passed."
Wylla turned one half in her hand. "It had a crack already. This should not have been put out."
"No deduction, then," Jon said. "Gared, fetch another bowl."
The boy went at once. His mother still looked troubled, but Wylla took the broken pieces from her and asked for more mustard. Robb watched them return to the kitchen. At Winterfell he had never thought to ask who paid for a broken bowl.
"Your sleeve, my lord," Tomas said. Robb looked down and found mustard on the cuff.
* * *
After washing, Robb pointed out the dust Gared had missed beneath one eye. Mairi settled a quarrel over shirts by finding the red cross inside one collar. Jon went uphill with Arthur for Luwin's lesson; Robb had leave to stay this first day for Hollan's. The less practised readers worked through short orders, the others through stable accounts. Robb had finished when Jon returned and opened a White Harbor letter.
"Will you help Cressen?" Jon asked, looking up. "He keeps putting the grain on the wrong side of the stable."
Cressen glared at his slate. "Leave the grain behind the stable before the last bell," Hollan had written. He kept reading "before" in both places. Robb copied the two troublesome words beneath the order.
"They begin alike," he said. "Look at the rest." He covered the first two letters of each while Cressen sounded out what remained, then uncovered the whole line. Across the table Tomas had written thirteen sacks instead of thirty-one. Robb noticed as he reached for the slate cloth and showed him the reversed figures.
Tomas covered the slate with one forearm. "I have them backwards again, my lord." It had pleased Robb to find the mistake; he had not expected Tomas to be ashamed of it. He said he could put them right. Tomas glanced at Cressen's slate. "Has he found the grain, at least?"
"Behind the stable. Before the last bell," Cressen said. Tomas moved his arm so Robb could correct the count. Hollan gave Cressen a fresh order sending the sacks to the mill at the second bell. He read it slowly, frowning at the last few words. "Second bell," he said, and tapped the word he had nearly missed.
Hollan gathered the slates before the afternoon drill. Robb went back to Rylas to try the turn he had missed that morning, while Gage kept Edden at the rail. When Heward dismissed them, Jon washed and told Wylla he would eat at Winterfell. The household were beginning their supper as he came through the hall to say goodnight.
Edden was falling asleep over cabbage and mutton neck. Mairi caught his bowl before his chin struck it. When she helped him stand, a cramp caught his calf and he cried out. Jon came down the bench and knelt beside him, easing the foot back until the muscle began to loosen.
"He has done enough for one day," Jon told Heward. "Light work tomorrow."
Gage crouched beside them. "I'll see to him, my lord."
When Mairi took Edden away to bed, she stopped beside Jon. "He has put bread under his mattress. I found it when I made the bed."
"Leave him a little in a covered bowl," Jon said. "He has only just come here. Give him time." Robb watched Jon return to the end of the table. He had never gone to bed wondering whether there would be food in the morning; neither had Jon, as far as he knew. Yet Jon had understood at once.
Eddard came down at the evening bell, leaving Jory and the escort at the horse rail. The boys were mending torn hose; three waited for Olyver, who could close a leather seam neatly. Rylas divided his aunt's honey cake into seven and offered Robb a piece.
"That is your aunt's cake."
"She sent it for us to share, my lord."
"Then thank her for me." Robb took the smallest piece and knocked Fergus's hand away from it.
"Is there any left?" Eddard asked. Rylas leapt up, but Eddard waved him down before he could surrender his own share. He sat beside Jon with small beer and heard how Tomas had knocked Robb down, and Fergus had helped him get the captain back.
"Fergus seems to have had the best of it."
Robb grinned. "He did. Tomas never saw him coming."
Arthur brought Robb's polished boots, cleaned and stuffed with rags. Harwin had his pony ready.
"I'll keep the soft pair for tomorrow," Robb said.
"Wise," Arthur said.
Jon left Heward in charge and told Gage to send to Wylla if Edden's leg troubled him. Arthur accompanied them uphill. At Winterfell Sansa drew her stool nearer Jon to hear about the house; Robb sat opposite with his soft boots beneath the bench.
Catelyn's auburn braid slipped over her shoulder as she examined Robb: blistered heel, bruise above the collar, a shaking hand reaching for bread. He named each hurt; saying nowhere would only make her look harder.
"The new boots rubbed," he said. "Harwin brought these from my saddlebag."
"Then wear those when you run. And have Luwin see that heel before bed."
"It is only a blister, Mother."
"I would prefer it not to become worse."
Eddard laid down his knife. "Will you go again?"
"At dawn," Robb said, and looked at his mother.
"After your own lessons are finished, and not one moment before," Catelyn said.
"I did Master Hollan's writing," Robb said. "He could give me another page."
"You will finish your lessons with Luwin first," Catelyn said. Robb had no answer that would change her mind. After supper, Jon went back downhill with Arthur. Robb found Sansa outside the family solar with a carved horse hidden badly behind her skirt. Her deep blue eyes followed his soft boots before she remembered her grievance. One foreleg had broken two days before, and Robb had twice promised to mend it.
"You forgot Chestnut again," she said. "His leg has been broken two whole days while you found other things to do."
"I was at Jon's." Robb held out his hand. "Give him here."
"You promised to mend him yesterday," Sansa replied. She thrust the horse towards him. When Robb bent to take it, his worked shoulder pulled and betrayed him with a grunt. Sansa snatched the toy back. "You are hurt. Did Ser Arthur strike you hard enough to do that?"
"Three of Jon's boys knocked me down. I left a gap and they came through it."
"Was it like the games at the feast?" Sansa asked, turning the horse.
"The fighting was. But they train every day. You should have seen them move when Heward called."
She looked through the window towards the roofs below. "Did Jon sleep there last night?"
"Aye. Upstairs, beside Wylla's."
"Then mend Chestnut before you go back."
Before bed Robb bound the leg with linen thread and glue; his fingers ached too badly to carve another. Sansa held the pieces when asked and passed the wrong tool when she was not.
The horse had been painted chestnut brown, with a black mane and a white star half worn away by her thumb. Robb turned it on its side and pressed the leg into place. Sansa bent so close that her hair fell across his hand.
"Move back. You will stick to him."
She gathered the hair over her shoulder and watched from the other side. When Catelyn came to find them, both children had glue on their fingers. She closed the glue pot.
"Will it hold?" Sansa asked her.
Catelyn examined the repair. "If you let it dry. Put him on his side tonight."
"He does not sleep like that."
"He will manage for one night." Catelyn folded a scrap of cloth for the toy and laid it on the shelf. Then she touched Robb's brow and sent him to bed before he could begin another task. Harwin cleaned the soft boots and packed them with rags beside the brazier. Robb put them on before first bell.
* * *
After Robb's lessons the next morning, House Black rode to the old watermill with Harwin and six other Winterfell guards. Robb wore his soft boots. Benfred Tallhart, Cley Cerwyn and Daryn Hornwood, who had arrived the previous evening for a short visit at Robb's invitation and with their fathers' leave, joined them from Winterfell with Theon and Rodrik. Their voices carried along the wet road. Ralf stopped to straighten the food mare's panniers, Alasdair lifting one while he smoothed the pad; they caught up within sight of the wheel.
Sheep had cropped the meadow short. It rose north in two shelves divided by a dry spill channel paved with white stone. Alders crowded the western bank; a low ridge ran east towards three charred posts. Master Branch and his son Cley were setting the last stakes above the old tailrace. A white rope stretched between them, well back from the water.
"The race has washed out beneath the bank in places, my lord," Branch told Jon. "Keep them this side of the rope."
Jon walked the boundary with Arthur and Ser Rodrik. At the upper end he could see water moving under a tangle of exposed roots. He shifted the nearest stake farther into the meadow, then returned to the waiting boys.
"We fight inside the rope," he told them. "If you cross it, you are out. No one is to follow another boy onto that bank."
Gage brought Edden to Arthur before the companies were chosen. "Light work, my lord, as you ordered."
Jon looked at the boy standing without a shield. "You stay with Arthur and watch. Tell Gage afterwards where his file lost its place."
Edden nodded and took his place beside the knight, clear of the rope. Gage went back for his own shield.
Rodrik divided the fighting boys into two companies. Jon took Tomas, Olyver, Gage, Gared, Finnan, Alasdair and half the black coats. Robb had Rylas, Jorren, Cressen, Fergus and the rest, with the castle boys as extra men to balance Tomas and Jon on the other side. Robb objected to needing the advantage; Rodrik told him to win with it before complaining. A blue standard stood behind the broken mill wall, a yellow one beside the southern stakes. To win, a company must bring the other's standard back to its own. Arthur and the Winterfell guards would judge the blows.
"Drop your weapons when the whistle sounds," Arthur said. He waited until every boy had nodded before sending them to their places.
A crow settled on the mill roof. Robb looked from it to Jon.
Jon smiled at Robb and went to arrange his men, leaving the crow to pick at the thatch.
Robb set Jorren beside the yellow standard with four shields. Daryn held the western side; Theon waited on the eastern ridge with Cley Cerwyn and four more. Theon began to complain about being left behind.
"You can see over both companies from there," Robb told him. "Watch for my hand."
Jon sent Tomas down the middle, keeping Gage close behind him. Olyver moved along the western edge. Robb heard the first shields meet, then the rapid wooden blows as Daryn tried to drive Olyver back. Daryn was gaining ground. Too much ground. Robb called him back as Olyver's boys began to turn on his flank.
Daryn came two paces before Gared touched his side with an ash sword.
"Dead," Arthur called.
"I was coming back!"
"Sit down, Daryn." Arthur was already watching the next pair.
Tomas struck Robb's shield hard enough to force him a step backwards. Robb held beside Rylas, waited for the next rush and raised his left hand. Theon came off the ridge with his party. Gage turned to meet them, leaving only two shields between Cley Cerwyn and the broken wall. Cley ducked past the first, took a blow across the shoulder from the second and reached the blue standard.
"Shoulder only," Ser Rodrik called. "You may run."
Cerwyn needed no encouragement. He raced down the eastern shelf with the cloth streaming behind him. Jon called Gage back, but Theon held him long enough for Cerwyn to reach the yellow flag. Rodrik blew the whistle.
Robb pulled off his padded cap, laughing. Theon had lost his sword and was arguing that he could have fought on with his fist. Benfred insisted he had struck Tomas twice. Tomas showed him the fresh dents in his shield.
"On that, my lord."
"You put too many men into the middle," Robb said, settling beside Jon on the southern rise and rubbing his shoulder.
"I saw Theon turn. I did not see Cley go past him." Jon rested his back against a warm stone and accepted the small beer the miller's wife brought him. "I will next time."
Robb took a piece of brown bread while the young Cerwyn recounted his run to Benfred.
Benfred interrupted to describe his own fight with Tomas. His account grew louder and less accurate. Theon threw a crust at him and hit Rodrik's boot.
"Greyjoy."
Theon straightened. "Sorry, ser."
"Throw another and you can eat with the dogs." Rodrik handed the crust to the miller's dog and rose to set the standards for another bout.
The miller's children had come to watch, the youngest carrying a little wheel he had cut from bark. He turned it in the shallow run beside the meal stones while his sisters argued over the best place to set it. Cley Cerwyn watched for a time, then shifted a pebble so that the water struck the paddles instead of passing beneath them.
Benfred told him there was a larger wheel near Torrhen's Square and began describing the pond behind it. Soon he and Daryn were disputing which of their fathers had the better fishing. Robb had heard neither place described at this length before. At Winterfell they generally spoke of horses, weapons and who had been struck hardest in the yard.
"The pike take the little ducks," Benfred said. "You see the feet go under first."
Theon reached for the mustard. "Then put a duck on your hook."
"You have to catch the duck."
"Is it faster than you?"
Benfred laughed. Jon sat with one arm across his raised knee, turning a piece of bread in his fingers while Cley described the fish they smoked at Cerwyn. Ralf came for the empty cloths. By the time the standards stood ready again, the mustard was gone and Robb had promised to see the pond at Torrhen's Square if his father took him there.
* * *
Jon placed Gage behind the blue standard and kept Olyver near the western rope. This time Tomas would wait for Robb to come to him. The boys settled their shields against their knees while Arthur walked clear. Beyond the field Master Branch was gathering his tools, his son pulling up the short testing rods.
Robb sent Jorren up the spill channel. When Tomas moved to meet him, Theon and Cerwyn ran towards the eastern ridge, drawing two of Gage's shields. Robb kept his remaining boys close. He could see Jon watching from the broken wall, black hair damp against his forehead.
"Now," Robb said.
Rylas led the rush. Shields clapped together, and Robb drove against the boy in front of him while Benfred shouted at his shoulder. Tomas's line held. For a moment Robb could see nothing beyond the close-set rims. Then Theon's voice rose from the north.
"I have it!"
He came out beside the broken wall with the blue standard under one arm. Cerwyn covered him with a shield. Gared left Olyver and ran to cut them off.
"Stay with me!" Olyver shouted.
Theon veered west, keeping inside the rope. Gared was farther downhill. Instead of running round the bulge in the boundary, he ducked beneath it to cross the shorter stretch of bank. Robb saw him go and kept shouting for Theon to run.
"Gared, back!" Arthur called.
Olyver reached him first. He caught Gared's coat and hauled him towards the field. The turf gave beneath them. Gared dropped waist-deep into brown water, dragging Olyver to his knees. Olyver threw out his left hand to stop himself. His arm folded under his weight, and his cry cut through the shouts.
Arthur blew the whistle. The shields fell quiet at once.
Jon reached the rope as Master Branch's son Cley came running from the mill.
"Above them, my lord. The bank's hollow there."
Jon stopped where Cley showed him firm ground. "Tomas, clear everyone uphill. Ralf, bring the boundary rope." He pointed out the torn bank to Arthur while two Winterfell guards carried the rope round the nearest sound tree.
The knight took a loop about his chest and crawled forward from above the break. Robb backed uphill with the others. Arthur's shoulders hid his hands; Robb watched for Gared to rise.
The rope drew tight as the guards pulled. Gared came over the edge, held beneath the arms as Arthur pushed himself backwards. Jon and Tomas kept the others clear.
Gared could stand, though blood ran down his shin. Olyver lay on his right side, cradling the other arm.
"My shoulder," he said when Arthur reached him. "Don't pull it."
Master Branch knelt on sound turf beside Olyver. At Arthur's order, Harwin rode ahead to fetch Luwin and warn Woods. The others brought a broad board from the mill. Jon spread a blanket over it, then stood clear while Arthur and two guards lifted Olyver without pulling at the injured arm. His face had gone pale beneath its freckles.
"He came after me," Gared whispered. "I thought I could get back before the bank went."
Jon looked up. "You were ordered to stay inside the rope."
Gared lowered his eyes. Across the field Theon stood holding the blue standard. Robb took it from him and laid it beside the others. He could still hear himself calling for Theon to run after he had seen Gared cross the boundary.
They carried Olyver home. Luwin was waiting at House Black, and Woods came across the yard as soon as he saw the bearers.
Luwin laid Olyver upon the long table. Woods stood at his head, one hand in his son's hair. Arthur held him steady while Wylla put a folded strap between his teeth. After examining the shoulder and feeling along the arm for a break, the maester drew it slowly, turned it, and the joint slipped back with a dull sound. Olyver's heels struck the table. His father bent over him, speaking too quietly for Robb to hear.
When the arm was bound across his chest, Olyver spat out the strap.
"Did Greyjoy keep the flag?"
"No one finished," Jon said.
Olyver shut his eyes. "He'll say he won."
Woods gave a rough laugh and kissed his son's hair. Alys hurried in from the kitchen, flour still on her arms. She caught Gared by both shoulders and looked him over.
"Where are you hurt?"
"Only my shin."
Her fingers tightened. Gared looked away. "I heard him call me back. I should have stopped."
"Aye," she said. "You should." She held him for a moment, then let him go to the table.
"I am sorry, Olyver."
Olyver opened one eye. "You can clean my boots."
"I will."
Jon drew a stool beside the table for Woods. "Stay with him. I will pay for the work you miss." To Olyver he said, "No shields or riding until Luwin allows it. Your place is safe." Woods's hand still rested against his son's head. Jon remembered waiting beside his own child and resenting every person who tried to draw him away with a task that could have waited. The clock could wait.
"I can still mend leather, my lord."
"Later. Rest today." Jon turned to Gared. "You are out of the line for a fortnight. Tomorrow you help Master Branch fence that bank. Stay on the meadow side and do only the work he gives you."
Gared nodded. He made no attempt to argue.
Catelyn entered with Eddard behind her, rain darkening both cloaks. Jory stopped at the doorway and turned to the guards waiting outside. She went straight to Robb, caught his muddy hands, and turned them palms upward. Finding no hurt, she looked past him towards Luwin.
"I was not in the hole, Mother."
"So I see." She released him only after Luwin had given her the injured boy's condition. "Tell me what happened."
Robb began with the standards and the first bout. When he reached Gared crossing the boundary, he faltered.
"I saw him go under the rope. I was still calling for Theon to run."
"You should have called a halt," Eddard said.
"I know."
Catelyn looked towards Olyver, who lay with his eyes closed and his father beside him. "You will help Master Branch for the next six mornings. And you will follow another captain at the next two field days. Winning is no use if you let your men hurt themselves to do it."
Robb started to protest, then stopped. "Yes, Mother."
Theon set the muddy standards beside the hearth and went to find a basin for them.
"I am going to his mother," Jon told Eddard. "Before someone brings her the wrong tale."
"Robb goes with you," Catelyn said. "And tomorrow he carries her water while she sits with her son."
Eddard stopped Jon at the door. "Tell her first that he lives. She may already have heard there was an accident."
Jon nodded and took the cloak Wylla held out.
"Here." Wylla put bread and cheese into their hands. "You have had nothing since the field."
Jon ate while she fastened his cloak. Robb followed him out, turning once to look at Olyver on the table.
* * *
Olyver's mother lived behind the sawpit with wood shavings banked against one wall to keep out damp. She opened the door carrying her youngest girl upon one hip. Another child peered around her skirt with a wooden spoon. The smell of boiled beans and woodsmoke came from the hearth. Her eyes found Arthur, then the mud upon the boys. "Olyver?"
"Olyver has hurt his shoulder," Jon said at once. "He is alive. Luwin has set it, and his father is with him."
The child upon her hip fussed when her mother went still. "Take her," the woman told Arthur. The Sword of the Morning received the little girl without question. She closed both hands around the star upon Dawn's pommel.
Jon told her about the broken bank and Gared crossing the rope. When he came to Olyver pulling the other boy clear, her hand tightened upon the door.
"He went after him?"
"Aye. Gared is home with a scraped shin."
She looked past them towards Winterfell. "His father is with him?"
"At the table. He has not left."
"I saw Gared cross," Robb said. "I should have called a halt."
"Why did you not?"
Robb looked down at the little girl's spoon. "I wanted Theon to reach the flag."
Jon stood beside him without answering for him. Olyver's mother drew a long breath.
"Would you take her hand, my lord?" she asked Robb, nodding towards her other daughter beside her.
"Aye." Robb took the little girl's hand. The baby had wound her fingers through Dawn's star and refused to let go. Arthur gently freed them, one at a time.
The other girl raised her spoon. "I have a sword."
Arthur regarded it gravely. "Keep it from your sister. She has a dangerous grip."
Olyver's mother pressed a hand over her mouth. When she lowered it, she looked at Jon. "Does Olyver lose his place?"
"No," Jon said. "His wage will be paid. When Luwin says he can be moved, would you rather have him here or stay beside him at the yard?"
"Here, if Maester Luwin permits it, my lord." Her hands would not keep still. "He will want his sisters."
"Then I will have a cart bring him. Wylla will send what you need."
She drew her shawl from its peg, then stood with it bunched in her hands. "He asked me this morning whether I would come to watch him. I said there were shirts to mend."
"You can see him now," Robb said.
She nodded, but kept turning the shawl in her hands. Jon freed the fringe where it had caught on a nail and gave it back to her.
"Thank you, my lord," she said, smoothing it with a shaking thumb.
Arthur shifted the little girl more securely upon his arm. Jon waited while her mother gathered herself.
"He will be trying that arm before the binding comes off," she said at last.
"Luwin has forbidden it. Tell Wylla if he tries."
"Oh, he will. And his father will say he was just the same at twelve, as though that mended anything."
Robb glanced at Jon. "Mother says I am to bring water tomorrow."
"Does she?"
"While you sit with him."
"After breakfast, then, my lord. The sound bucket is under the bench." She looked towards the woodbox. "That will want filling too."
Robb followed her glance. The box was larger than the one beside his own hearth. "All of it?"
Arthur looked into the nearly empty box. "You may need more than one armful."
"Everyone has me today," Robb said.
She almost smiled. Then she took her daughter from Arthur and reached for the other girl's hand. "Come, both of you. Your brother will want to tell you what happened before I can."
Ralf had brought the food cart round from the yard. Arthur helped Olyver's mother onto the seat while Jon lifted the smaller child up to her. Robb helped the other girl climb after them.
At dawn Robb and Gared joined Master Branch at the mill. His men dug the post holes on sound ground, well inside the boundary of the washed-out bank. The boys carried pegs and gathered the loose turf on the meadow side. Branch's son Cley set the stout fence posts. Gared's shin was bandaged, and he moved stiffly when he bent for another sod.
"Leave that one," Robb told him. "I'll lift it."
Gared took the smaller piece instead. Above them Tomas drilled the household on the eastern shelf, giving Olyver's file the next turn himself. Gared had cleaned Olyver's boots before breakfast and left them with Mairi to take to the sawpit. Eddard and Arthur stood beside Jon as Branch's men drove another post into the ground.
"You mean to use the field again?" Arthur asked.
"The eastern end," Jon said. "There is room enough once the bank is fenced."
"Olyver will want to come."
"He can watch from the mill." Jon looked towards the village road. "I said I would see him this morning."
"Then go," Eddard said. "Take Ralf. Arthur and I can stay here."
Jon called Tomas over, gave him the rest of the morning's work and went to fetch his horse. Ralf rode beside him, two household boys following. The mill bell rang above the rush of water. Robb set down his last armful of turf. After breakfast he still had the water and wood he had promised Olyver's mother.