𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 117: 𝖂𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕸𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖚𝖗𝖊𝖉.
[Winterfell, 4 months after the Impaler's arrival in Westeros]
The thick granite walls of Winterfell towered above Winter Town. The castle's towers were covered in a thin layer of snow, and smoke rose from numerous chimneys, drifting slowly towards the sky.
At the foot of the walls, Winter Town was crowded. Wooden and stone cottages stretched around the castle, separated by narrow streets where men and women dragged carts loaded with firewood and sacks of grain. In several places, piles of logs could be seen stacked beside the houses, ready for the coldest months.
Snow partially covered the roads and gathered on the rooftops, while the wind carried small whirlwinds between the buildings. Most people walked wrapped in thick cloaks and furs, their heads bowed to protect themselves from the cold.
The strangest thing was the constant presence of armed guards patrolling the streets and announcing the curfew, but above all, the absence of children. The few who went outside walked hand in hand with their parents, and any attempt to stray from them was met with a stern look or a warning shout.
In Winterfell's halls, what remained of the Stark family had gathered to break their fast.
Robb presided over the table alongside his wife, Talisa Stark, née Maegyr, who held little Eddard, her son with Robb and the future heir to Winterfell. Sansa sat beside them, absent-mindedly stirring the food on her plate with a bored expression, while Rickon seemed to be devouring his meal without the slightest trace of manners.
Robb glanced towards the doors from time to time, as though he were expecting someone, although his expression seemed to grow increasingly exasperated.
Finally, he turned towards his sister.
—Sansa, didn't I ask you to tell Arya to join us for breakfast? —he asked, frowning slightly.
Sansa raised her eyes from her plate.
—Of course I told her, Robb, but apparently she took my words as though they were nothing but air —she replied with evident annoyance.
The relationship between Arya and Sansa had not improved much since they had both been held captive in King's Landing. Arya continued to blame Sansa for many of the things she had done before their father was falsely accused.
Sansa, for her part, considered Arya a nuisance, a naïve girl who thought she could ignore her duties as a Stark and as a woman without consequences.
Although she had not endured as much as she would have if she had remained in King's Landing after her father's death, the consequences of those events were still present. Even so, she remained rather naïve and clung to the belief that love and the honour of knights were the forces that governed the world.
Robb suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and turned towards his wife, who was gently holding little Eddard while feeding him with a spoon.
—Didn't you speak to Arya about that nonsense of spending so much time on the training grounds? —he asked, turning towards her.
Talisa looked up, briefly interrupting the child's meal, and regarded her husband seriously.
—Yes, I spoke to her, just as you asked me to —Talisa replied calmly, holding his gaze. —But, if I'm being honest, I don't understand why I should discourage her from learning to defend herself. It's obvious you won't always be there to stop someone from hurting her, and if you keep forbidding it, the only thing you'll accomplish is making her even more determined to do it.
Robb looked at her, unsure what to say.
Talisa came from Volantis, where women were not treated as though they were made of porcelain. In many parts of Essos, a woman who did not know how to fight or defend herself could face a rather unpleasant fate, so she saw nothing wrong with Arya learning to wield a sword or a bow.
Robb, on the other hand, was still too influenced by the upbringing he had received from his mother and was not entirely comfortable with the idea of his sister receiving such intensive training. As far as he was concerned, it would only lead to her getting hurt.
—Besides —his wife continued, a concerned expression crossing her face—, we still don't know what has been taking the children from the town. It would be best if everyone knew how to defend themselves. I wouldn't want something to happen to your sister simply because your mother thought it improper for a young lady to wield a sword.
At the mention of their mother, Sansa seemed to shudder and returned her attention to her plate without saying a word. After everything that had happened, the girl had become considerably more reserved, although Robb remembered that she had never been particularly outgoing to begin with.
As he considered his wife's words, one of his men announced that Ramsay Bolton had arrived in the hall. The young man, with his calm bearing and cordial smile, approached the table and greeted everyone courteously.
As he entered, Sansa seemed to lose all interest in her food and watched him attentively.
—My lord, my lady, Lady Sansa, young Rickon —the heir to the Dreadfort greeted them with a bow.
Robb harboured conflicting feelings towards the son of his former enemy.
When he discovered Roose Bolton's betrayal, he understood that the Dreadfort's flayers had to disappear once and for all if the North was to remain united through the coming winter.
Nevertheless, when he arrived at the Dreadfort to reduce the castle to rubble, he found the gates open and Ramsay Bolton waiting for him.
At the time, he was still a bastard.
Ramsay placed the forces of the Dreadfort at Robb Stark's disposal and offered his services, even going so far as to offer his own head in exchange for sparing his father's men, who, according to him, knew nothing of the betrayal.
That gesture earned him much of Robb's sympathy, and even more so when, during the inspection of the castle, they discovered Roose Bolton's will. In it, he legitimized Ramsay and named him heir to the Dreadfort. He had even written a few words for him, stating that although they could not be more different, he knew Ramsay would make a far better lord than he himself had been.
But Robb was not so naïve.
The first thing he did was order his men to investigate the rumours and find out what the people living under the flayers' rule thought of them. Apparently, Ramsay Bolton had a reputation for being an extraordinarily kind person. Stories circulated about him secretly helping peasants who had almost nothing, and, according to those accounts, whenever Roose Bolton discovered one of these acts, his son would receive terrible beatings and lashings in the public square.
Roose considered helping the poor an obvious sign of weakness and did not believe his heir should be so soft-hearted as to feel empathy for mere peasants or commoners. From what Robb had discovered, the words in Roose Bolton's will seemed sincere. His son could not have been more different from him.
A man of honour.
Even so, Robb had learned a thing or two during the war and was not willing to place blind trust in words, rumours, or good intentions. That was why he decided to take Ramsay with him and keep him in Winterfell as a hostage while a steward governed the Dreadfort in his name.
Ramsay accepted without complaint and swore before everyone present that he would devote the rest of his life to erasing the stain his father's treachery had left upon his family name.
Robb Stark was more than satisfied with the young man's attitude and, although he did not initially trust him with important matters, he made sure to assign him tasks that would allow him to feel useful and prove his worth.
Little by little, the heir to the Dreadfort earned the trust of the Lord of Winterfell, eventually becoming one of his right-hand men and one of the most trusted men in the castle.
And, truth be told, Robb needed men like that.
The loss of so many lords during the Red Wedding had been devastating from a political standpoint. Many heirs to great houses had died there, and the few who survived were showing less and less willingness to follow the Lord of Winterfell into another war.
When they returned to their lands with the remnants of the army that had once gathered to fight for Eddard Stark, most went home with no intention of marching again. Nobody said anything particularly unpleasant to him, but Robb could see from their faces that they did not feel especially grateful to him, either.
That was why he could not rely on too many lords to administer the North, and Ramsay's help was more than welcome.
He had also noticed that Sansa seemed to find the young man pleasing to the eye and spent more time grooming herself whenever she knew he would be present at a family gathering, but that did not concern Robb too much. He was not like his mother, who had always believed that bastards should be kept away from legitimate heirs.
In fact, Ramsay reminded him quite a bit of Jon, who was still at the Wall holding back the wildlings. Unfortunately, Robb still lacked both the men and the supplies needed to help him, but he made sure to send letters regularly.
Ramsay Bolton approached Robb's place at the table and knelt, bowing his head.
—I have failed you, my lord —he said regretfully. —I was unable to find any clues regarding the missing children. I searched every corner of Winter Town, and there is nothing.
The young man seemed genuinely distressed.
Robb nearly let out a sigh.
He did not know how to resolve the situation. For almost a month, at least once a week, one of the children in Winter Town had gone missing. They were always young, between five and ten years old, and no trace was ever left behind. Nobody saw who took them or whether they had left of their own accord; there were no screams or blood, and the parents simply woke up the following morning to discover that their children were gone.
As expected, they had gone to the Lord of Winterfell, begging him to help find them, and Robb had of course agreed.
However, a month had already passed since the first children disappeared, and two more had vanished during the investigation. Nobody knew how it happened or what had become of them, but this could not continue.
Beyond his duties as a lord, Robb was unwilling to accept that innocent children could disappear and meet some unknown fate. That was why he had tasked Ramsay Bolton with investigating the incidents, although it seemed that the heir to the Dreadfort had failed as well.
Everyone present showed varying degrees of concern at Ramsay's failure.
The disappearance of the children had become one of Winterfell's main problems, and everyone wanted it resolved as soon as possible. Robb had already put into motion everything he could think of to find the culprit, yet they still had not found a single clue.
The only thing left was to search for himself. Grey Wind might be able to follow a trail, and Robb was becoming increasingly convinced that this was the best option.
Unfortunately, the direwolf no longer stayed by his side inside the castle. The enormous wolf had grown increasingly restless over the years and, on more than one occasion, had growled threateningly at several guards, at Ramsay, and even at Arya. As a result, Robb had eventually allowed him to live outside the castle, in the Godswood, where he had more room.
Nevertheless, the bond between them had never weakened, and whenever Robb called for him, the wolf came to his side like a loyal companion.
—Tonight, you will accompany me on patrol, Lord Bolton —Robb said in a serious tone. —We will try to follow any trail my wolf manages to find.
Talisa, who was still cradling little Eddard in her arms, gently took her husband's hand.
—Be careful, my love —she pleaded anxiously. —I told you about this before, but I saw something similar in Volantis: a horrible man who enjoyed killing little children.
Ramsay raised his head and addressed her directly.
—My lady, I assure you that I will protect Lord Stark with my life. I will not allow anything to harm him, I swear it —he declared firmly.
Talisa felt reassured knowing that her husband had such a loyal man at his side, while Sansa almost seemed to have stars in her eyes upon hearing those words. Rickon, on the other hand, remained far more focused on finishing his breakfast than paying attention to the adults' problems.
Night came quickly, and Robb Stark left the castle accompanied by a small contingent of men and Grey Wind.
The peasants were more than pleased to see their lord come down from the castle to personally deal with a problem of such magnitude. They offered their help without hesitation and handed Grey Wind clothes, toys, and other objects that had belonged to the children so that he could follow their scent.
However, Robb soon reached a dead end.
And it did not seem to be a coincidence.
The children's trails ended almost as soon as they reached certain alleys, which were saturated with rowan grass and other aromatic plants whose scent was so strong that it overwhelmed the senses of anyone who came near.
It was not even worth considering what that meant for Grey Wind, whose senses were far sharper than those of any man.
To Robb, it was clear that someone was doing this deliberately, although what truly worried him was finding the children alive.
Night came quickly, and Robb Stark returned to the castle accompanied by a small contingent of men and Grey Wind. They had spent the entire day patrolling Winter Town in search of the missing children, and everyone looked clearly exhausted and dirty.
Talisa welcomed her husband in the Great Hall, where she had already arranged a hearty dinner for the men returning from the search.
What stood out was that Sansa was there as well.
According to her own words, she had been unable to sleep well that night and had happened to pass through the hall by pure chance. Even so, she seemed quite pleased to have the opportunity to talk with Ramsay more freely.
Talisa nearly rolled her eyes at such an unconvincing excuse, but she was not about to ruin the moment for her.
In fact, Ramsay was behaving like a true gentleman. He was attentive and kind, and avoided being alone with her so that no inappropriate rumours would arise.
While they were having dinner, the doors to the hall opened again.
Arya entered covered in dirt, exhausted, and with several visible bruises. It was clear that she had convinced the new master-at-arms to give her an especially intense training session.
Robb looked up from the bowl of water Talisa had brought him to wash himself and regarded Arya with evident disapproval.
—Well, it seems one of Winterfell's ladies has finally decided to honour us with her presence. I was expecting you this morning to break your fast with the family, Arya —he said with a frown. —And here you are, showing up now after keeping the poor master-at-arms busy with your games all day.
Arya returned his gaze with an angry look and an unpleasant expression, but did not reply. Without another word, she crossed the hall towards her chambers. Even so, during the brief journey, she did not forget to shoot one murderous glance at Ramsay Bolton and another at Sansa.
Talisa's heart nearly broke at the sight of the two sisters being so distant from one another, but there was nothing she could do about it. What they had lived through had left deep marks on them, and not for the better.
Neither trusted the other, and each blamed her sister for different reasons, although Talisa was convinced that, deep down, this was a clumsy and childish way of coping with the grief caused by their parents' deaths.
According to what she had been told, if either of them had been in the other's place, she would probably have died. She could only hope they would mend their relationship before it was too late.
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Good evening, everyone. Thanks for being here for another week.
Could I make up an excuse to justify the delay? I suppose I could, but I'd already made it clear that I'd found a new job, working from ten in the morning until eight at night. It practically took up my entire day, and by the time I got home, the last thing I felt like doing was anything that required effort.
As much as I enjoy writing, it obviously takes a certain amount of mental effort, at least if you want to do it well. So, honestly, I wasn't in the best position to maintain a regular publishing schedule.
Fortunately, my contract with that company has come to an end, along with their pre-Black Friday campaign. So I'm unemployed again, but with a little more money and considerably more free time. When I look for my next job, I'll try to find something with a reasonable schedule that leaves me enough time for myself.
In the meantime, while I'm looking for a new job, I'll have enough time to get back to publishing regularly.
Sorry for the delay, and I hope you enjoy the chapter. See you in the next one!