Bran wanted the antlers. He had heard Farlen speak of a hart's tracks beside the wolfswood road, and now he kept both hands spread above his head while Robb buttered an oatcake.
"Antlers," he said again, leaning towards his brother.
"If we find him," Robb promised.
Theon took the last crisp strip of bacon. "After twenty-five boys walk into the wood, Farlen will be lucky to find a squirrel."
Hugin watched from the open window. Jon put a scrap of meat on the sill before the crow could investigate the platter. Munin landed beside him, pushed beneath his wing and took it. Bran lowered his antlers long enough to laugh.
"You could come and show us how it is done," Jon said.
"Ser Rodrik has other plans for me." Theon looked less sorry than he ought to have done. Robb suspected those plans would occupy only the morning.
Arya wanted to go. Sansa reminded her that she had frightened away the cat she meant to catch the day before, and Arya began to explain that she had let it escape. Septa Mordane told her to finish her porridge.
"Bring me a hoof, then," Arya told Robb.
"What would you do with a hoof?" Sansa asked.
"Keep it."
Sansa wrinkled her nose and turned to Robb. "Jeyne says deer hide makes good gloves. May we have some?"
"If Farlen finds your deer," Eddard said. "You have divided most of it already."
Catelyn looked towards the short hunting spear Robb had left beside the door. "You are to stay with Farlen or Ser Arthur."
"I will, Mother."
"Jon leads the household today," Eddard said. "Listen when he calls you." He passed Robb the bread, and the matter was settled.
Old Nan was to have the tongue. Arya had asked her which part she liked, and now insisted that Robb remember it. He counted the requests on his fingers while Jon finished his breakfast. Bran caught at one of the fingers and said, "Mine."
"Aye. I remember yours." Robb lifted him onto his knee and let him finish the buttered oatcake.
The rain had ended before dawn. Robb's pony picked along the ridge between two wheel-ruts as Winter Town dripped around them. House Black waited at the lower gate without horns or bright hunting silk: eight shaggy garrons in mended tack, one gelding blind in a white eye with a scar beneath its saddle cloth.
Arthur held Bucephalus while Jon checked the girth with both hands. Short silver strands had escaped his tied-back hair. He glanced at Robb's mud-splashed boots. "Those may survive the first mile."
Robb grinned. "Where do you want me?"
"Beside me. Farlen has the hounds ready."
Eddard came down on his mud-flecked chestnut with Jory and the escort. While Ralf checked the last girths, Farlen described the two ways he had walked back to the road yesterday.
"Stay with Jon," Eddard told Arthur. "Leave the hunt to Farlen and Harwin." The knight inclined his head, and Eddard asked Jon's route.
"Along the wolfswood road, then west where Farlen found the tracks. We shall practise moving through the trees and be home before dark."
"Good hunting."
Tomas called the household into files. Elspeth came from the kitchen with oatcakes wrapped in linen and passed them to Alasdair for the packs.
"Remember the liver, Farlen."
"I know," the huntsman said. "You have told me twice."
"And yet I have had to remind you before." She gave him the last bundle, and he rode off laughing.
Eight of the household rode the garrons while the others walked beside their files, changing places when Ralf called. Jon dismounted at the first change and led Bucephalus; Robb let Cressen have his pony. The boy climbed up with both hands on the saddle bow, trying not to show how pleased he was. Their garrons were brown, dun and grey, with old collar scars beneath two saddles. Ralf had chosen quiet animals accustomed to children and long roads. Luwin had allowed Olyver to ride again after examining his shoulder the day before, provided he kept to quiet horses and left the heavy work to others. Through the rougher ground Olyver led the white-eyed gelding, keeping to the side it could see. Beyond the last crofts the pines closed around them. Drops fell heavily from the boughs, and the hounds lowered their noses to the wet earth.
* * *
They found fresh sign beside a holly brake. Farlen crouched over the droppings and pointed west, calling Harwin to bring the hounds. Jon sent Tomas along the higher ground with two files and took the others below him. In the trees the boys kept sight of the man ahead, passing a raised hand back whenever the line stopped.
Leather creaked and water ticked from the needles. A jay screamed overhead. Then a hind broke cover below the ridge, followed by another. The hart came over a fallen pine after them. Wet needles clung to his dark back; his antlers brushed the lower branches and shook rain about him. For a moment he stood broadside, one black eye fixed upon the riders. Then he wheeled away.
Rylas ran after him. Cressen followed before Tomas called them back.
"Here!" Tomas struck his staff against the pale trunk of a lightning-split pine. Rylas stopped within sight of it and pulled Cressen back by the sleeve. The two returned flushed and breathing hard.
Jon halted the two lower files and went up to where Tomas waited with Rylas and Cressen. Ralf had stopped the horses below the turn, leaving the whole household strung out along the slope.
"Look behind you," Jon told the two boys. "Four files waiting because you wanted to chase a deer." He turned to Rylas. "Cressen followed you. You are meant to keep your file together."
Rylas looked down the empty track the hart had taken. Cressen kept his eyes on Jon.
"Tomas takes your file for the rest of the day. You stay beside him, both of you. When he moves, you move."
"Yes, my lord," Rylas said. Cressen nodded beside him.
Farlen's horn sounded to the west. They moved on more slowly, following the hounds through a band of close-set pines. Boughs caught the shield rims and shook cold water down their collars. On the steeper ground the garrons lowered their heads and picked their way among black, slippery roots. Jon's thighs ached from gripping the saddle. He loosened his knees where the path widened and leaned forward again for the next descent.
Harwin appeared in a deer track with his bow drawn. The hart crossed below him. His first arrow passed beneath its belly; the second struck behind the ribs. The beast lurched, recovered and plunged downhill.
"Hold the horses!" Ralf shouted.
Robb's pony slipped in the churned leaf mould. Arthur caught its bridle while Jon seized the other rein, bringing its head uphill until it found its feet. Robb climbed down, shaken, and took the reins from Jon.
A horse screamed below them. The wounded hart had turned across the slope towards the waiting garrons. The white-eyed gelding reared, throwing Donnel onto his back. Ralf hauled two of the other horses clear. Alasdair caught a loose bridle as the hart struck a birch and turned again, its antlers sweeping towards the fallen boy.
"Shields to Donnel!" Jon called. "Rylas, get him out!"
Gage and Finnan reached him first. They braced their shields while Rylas crawled behind them. The hart struck Gage's shield with its lowered head, knocking him backwards. Tomas came against his shoulder and held him up. A tine tore through Finnan's sleeve. Behind them Rylas caught Donnel under the arms and dragged him over the roots.
Farlen was already running down the bank with his boar spear. Jon called Gage aside as Donnel came clear. The hart turned at the movement; Farlen drove the spear beneath its breast, and Harwin caught the shaft beside him. The animal stumbled to its knees. Farlen went beyond the antlers and finished it with his knife.
For a moment Jon could hear only the men breathing and a loose garron crashing through the fern. Then Tomas began calling the files together. Ralf went after the loose garron. Olyver waited beside the track with the horses that had stayed.
Jon knelt beside Donnel. "Where does it hurt?"
"My back, my lord."
Arthur felt carefully along his ribs and spine while the boy lay still. Donnel could move his feet, though turning made him wince. Farther up the slope Cressen was binding Finnan's shallow cut with clean linen. Gage stood rubbing his left arm.
"You three did well," Jon told Gage, Tomas and Rylas. "He could not have got clear alone."
Rylas wiped the mud from his mouth. "I saw where he fell."
Robb came down leading his pony. He looked at the dead hart, then at the deep scratches across Gage's shield. He handed the reins to Cressen and went to sit beside Donnel while Arthur finished examining him.
* * *
Farlen dressed the hart beneath the pines. Steam rose when he opened the belly, and the smell of blood mixed with crushed fern and pine resin. The boys held the legs, fetched water and kept the hounds away. Two went pale and stepped back until Farlen called for more water. He gave Harwin the heart, wrapped the liver for Elspeth and saved the tongue for Old Nan.
"One tine's broken," Robb said. He tied Bran's cord about a sound one lower down the antler.
"That is big enough for him," Jon said.
"For now. He will want the rest when he sees it." Robb helped bind the carcass to two carrying poles.
Jon halted them to eat before they shouldered the poles. Beneath a spreading pine Alasdair passed Elspeth's oatcakes round the half-circle, and Farlen washed at the run. Donnel lay on a blanket looking up into the branches. He tried to rise when Robb brought his food; Robb told him to stay down and sat beside him. Sunlight moved across his boots.
Near Arthur, Jon worked pine resin from his fingers with a cloth while the knight divided the cheese. The hounds settled with heavy heads on their paws, watching every mouthful.
"Brindle will remember that," Farlen said when Robb let a crumb fall beside his knee.
The dog had already lifted her head. Robb ate the rest more carefully. Farther round the circle, Cressen was showing Finnan a beetle large enough to carry on his thumbnail. Gage leaned over to look, holding the sore arm close to his chest. They ate, drank and listened to the water until Tomas called the first carrying pairs. Rylas and Cressen took their first turn at the rear, and he changed them before either had begun to stagger.
Donnel rode behind Ralf with a blanket about his bruised middle. Gage walked because his left hand was too sore to hold a rein. The files looked ragged among the trunks, but the boys passed each halt back and waited for those behind them. At the road they stopped to water the horses. Donnel approached the white-eyed gelding with a piece of oatcake, and the horse drew away.
"He hates me now," Donnel said, holding the oatcake where the gelding could smell without reaching.
"Let him smell it," Ralf said. He stood beside Donnel at the horse's sound eye. "Keep your hand open."
The gelding stretched towards the oatcake, then drew back again. Donnel waited until it reached a second time. The soft lips brushed his palm.
"Will I ride him home?"
"Not with that back. Olyver can take him." Ralf loosened the girth a little and checked beneath the pad while Donnel stroked the horse's neck.
They reached the first roofs of Winter Town smelling of blood. Dogs barked along the lane. Children ran behind the antlers. Women leaned from doors while the tired bearers straightened under their pole. Elspeth met them with a basin beneath one arm and a knife in the other.
"Hang it by the washhouse," Elspeth called. She took the liver from Farlen before he had finished dismounting.
Onions were already hissing in the pan. The smell drew the boys into the common room as soon as the horses had been rubbed down. Donnel eased himself onto a bench and received the first slice. Gage held his cup with both hands. Tomas sat only when Olyver came in with the last of the horse boys.
Ralf laid the gelding's torn rein beside Jon. "They need more room between the horses. Once the first one shied, the others had nowhere to go."
"Show Arthur before you leave," Jon said. He turned to Tomas. "And we will practise getting a fallen man behind the shields. Use the straw men tomorrow."
"Two shields on his left, my lord," Gage said. "I could not cover Rylas and hold the hart by myself."
Jon examined the torn rim. "Two on the left. We can try it when your arm is better."
Elspeth brought more liver. Gage reached for the platter with his sore hand, thought better of it and passed his plate to Finnan. Robb ate quickly, eager to take the antler uphill before Bran's bedtime.
Farlen wrapped the sawn base in sacking, though a dark patch soon soaked through it. Arya's hoof hung from Robb's belt. Harwin carried the folded hide over his saddle. The tongue went ahead in Elspeth's covered bowl, out of reach of the castle dogs.
Bran came along the gallery beneath his nurse's guiding hand. He saw the antler and stretched both arms towards it.
"This one," Robb said, showing him the cord. "Mikken will cut it for you."
Sansa and Jeyne came to inspect the hide. Jeyne lifted a clean edge from Harwin's saddle, and Sansa asked whether they could have their gloves lined in blue. Arya arrived at a run and seized the hoof from Robb's belt.
"It smells," Sansa said, stepping back.
Arya held it up as though it were a sword hilt. "Mikken can put a blade in it."
"Mikken has work enough." The smith had heard his name as he crossed the ward with an iron bar. He stopped to examine the antler Robb showed him. "I can saw that before supper. The hoof had best be cleaned before anyone takes it indoors."
Arya looked down at it, then at Sansa's retreating skirts. Robb caught her wrist before she could follow.
"No."
"I wasn't."
"You were." He took the hoof and hung it beside the washhouse. Bran began crying when he carried the antler to Mikken, and stopped only when the smith let him hold the loose cord.
Catelyn's eyes passed over the prizes and settled on Robb's muddied cloak and bruised wrist. "What happened?"
"My pony slipped. Arthur and Jon caught it. I am not hurt, Mother. Donnel was thrown; he is resting at the yard."
"Luwin is there?" She turned his wrist to examine it.
"Arthur sent for him," Jon said.
Theon came out of the armoury asking about the hart. Robb raised the bloody wrapping, remembered his mother and lowered it.
"Wash first," she told him. When he had gone, she turned to Jon. "He was to stay beside Arthur."
"He did, my lady. The ground gave under the pony."
She looked at the blood on his cuff without asking whose it was. "I am glad Arthur was close enough."
"So am I." Jon took Harwin's empty sacking and followed Robb to the basin.
Eddard found them washing and heard how the shields had got Donnel clear. "I shall see him tonight. Will you come?"
Both nodded. Robb poured the last clean water over Jon's hands before they went in.
They ate before going back down. Sansa and Jeyne discussed their gloves; Arya wanted to know when a hoof stopped smelling, until Mordane forbade the question at supper. Bran had fallen asleep with the antler cord in his fist. His nurse freed it finger by finger. Robb watched her carry him away, disappointed that the prize had failed to keep him awake.
Eddard carved the haunch, giving the youngest the tenderest slices, and asked about the holly track, the stream crossing and the garrons. Robb described the wood with his knife until Catelyn moved the wine jug; Jon supplied a forgotten place name.
Later a kitchen girl brought Old Nan's thanks for the tongue. She had asked whether the boys meant to empty the whole forest before she grew too old to chew.
"She was too old before I was born," Theon said.
"You may tell her so yourself," Eddard replied.
Before the girl went, Theon said, "Tell her I want to hear how that ship got off the rocks. She sent me away last night before the men had even raised a sail."
"She said you would come asking."
"Did she? Tell her I shall bring a better ending if hers is poor."
The girl went away laughing. Robb asked what ship he meant, and Theon began with the storm, pushing his cup aside to show how close the vessel had come to shore.
Nan had lost both sons in Robert's war and a grandson at Pyke. Jon had heard her speak of the grandson to Wylla; she still kept a little knife he had made her for cutting thread. When Theon joined the children by her fire, she would send him to fetch another stool. Jon listened as Robb asked whether the captain could have put his men ashore. Theon shook his head and began explaining the rocks again.
When the dishes were cleared, Jon fetched his cloak. Robb came without being called. Eddard joined them at the door, and the three went down through the lingering evening light to see Donnel. Jory brought six guards after them, leaving room for Robb to walk beside his father.
Elspeth had sent the customary haunch to the castle kitchens and divided the rest among the lower hall, Farlen, Harwin, the injured boys' homes, and the hands who had carried the carcass. Marya came for Harl's portion with two daughters. The younger girl asked whether men ate better on the high road.
"Worse," Ralf told her. "That is why they speak so fondly of supper after they return." She tied a little strip of yellow wool around his finger and went to find another for her father.
* * *
For two days the Falcon clock filled the work court: its body in a felt-lined cradle under waxed cloth, blue face and white case on another wagon, carved wings in long chests for Nestor Royce's narrow stair turn. Jon checked the cradle with Garrick and ordered a wedge where the case might shift. Olyver rolled hooks, oil, leather flaps and small tools in waxed linen.
Eddard had released Harl, Osbert, Wyl and Quent. Ralf read them the route: Garrick to see the clock aboard at White Harbor, Ralf to take the voyage and inland road to the Gates of the Moon.
The convoy was ready three mornings after the hunt. Woods followed the largest chest onto the road, reminding Osric where to support it. Marya and both daughters stood among the townsfolk watching the wagons. The younger had tied yellow wool round Harl's sword belt.
"It is a favour," she told Jon.
"He will be pleased with it," Jon said.
Harl bent to kiss his daughter and then Marya. She straightened the strip where it had twisted about his belt.
Jon gave Ralf the letter for Nestor Royce. "Seven dawns under the keeper's hand. Bring back his seal when it has passed."
Ralf tucked it inside his coat. "If he asks for another week?"
"You judge whether the clock needs it. Do not let him keep the men for show."
Garrick called that the team was ready. Ralf went to the lead wagon.
The wagons rolled beneath the black gate. Olyver rode beside Garrick's second team with his hooks and hide flaps under the seat; he would turn north again from White Harbor while Ralf carried the clock south. Harl swung into the saddle and raised a hand to his daughters as they called after him.
When the last black cover vanished beyond the pines, the household returned to the field. Two straw men lay behind a row of practice shields. At Tomas's call, Alasdair and Rylas went through the opening, took one beneath its arms, and hauled it back while Gage's file covered them. The straw man lost a boot. Tomas sent them back for it after the halt.
Donnel watched from beside the white-eyed gelding, oats in his open hand. When the shields struck together the horse raised its head. Donnel waited; after a moment it lowered its nose again.
Jon came over and stood on the gelding's seeing side while Donnel stroked its neck. Beyond them the shields struck again; this time the horse went on eating.