Chapter 7: There's No Honor in War
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Chapter 8 (A Song for The Past), Chapter 9 (The Woman in White), Chapter 10 (The Princess and The Bastard), Chapter 11 (Purple Eyes and Hidden Blades), Chapter 12 (Little Birds, Little Whispers), Chapter 13 (Empty Graves, and Winter Tales), and Chapter 14 (The Kingslayer's Honor) are already available for Patrons.
The last time Ned Stark had been so worried was when he learned from a raven that Rhaegar Targaryen had kidnapped his sister. Ned still remembered that day better than he wished, but even that had been nothing when he was told that his father and brother were burned and strangled by the Mad King.
Jon Arryn had been there to comfort him, but nothing had worked; Ned had felt his heart shatter like glass.
And now, he felt the same distress all over again, but for a different reason.
He had gone to Wolf's Wood to hunt with a group of hunters. His mother had told him that Jon was already better than most of his hunters and trackers by now; Ned highly doubted that, but based on her words, she made it seem like his nephew was a master tracker. For this reason, he thought that Jon would try to talk him into letting him join the hunt, but surprisingly, Robb was the one to beg, but not Jon.
The boy had been quiet, even more than usual, and had barely said a word; Ned had found that strange since Jon seemed to be a completely different person since he arrived back at Winterfell, but he easily shrugged it as him being a little boy. Perhaps someone had annoyed him, maybe Robb had won the last match, or some childish reason like that, whatever the case Ned had rode to the Wolf's Wood, thinking of staying there for a whole week to hunt as many animals as they could.
It was the middle of the first night; Ned was telling stories of his first fight to his men around a campfire when they all heard the sound of a horse riding towards them, the sound of snow crunching.
Ned remembered standing up, sword in hand, but he quickly recognized Jory Cassel holding a lantern. The horse was almost like an arrow, and one of the men had jumped out of the way before Jory could regain control of his horse.
Ned didn't remember what he had told Jory. Had he berated him for losing control of his horse like that? He didn't remember, but what he remembered was what Jory told him.
"Lord Stark, there has been an attack on Winterfell. The Old Tower is burned, and someone tried to kidnapp Lady Sansa."
Upon hearing that, Ned mounted his horse without a second thought and rode back to Winterfell.
"She's alright, my Lord, the man who tried to capture her is imprisoned. Your son was there to help." Jory said from behind him as they all rode back to Winterfell in the middle of the night, the half-moon glittering above them, and the snowflakes obscured the vision; the lanterns cast an orange glow on the road before them, but they all knew this road like the palms of their hands, they could hear the distant howls of Shadow Cats, and Wolves, the snow reaching one foot deep, it was still nothing for a Northern.
"Robb, what do you mean he helped?" Ned questioned in disbelief, the cold air of the summer winter filling his lungs.
"No, my Lord. Your other son, Jon. I don't know exactly what happened. But Lady Lyarra commanded me to find you and bring you home, and tell you about the attack." Jory shouted from his horse as they kept riding, and Ned frowned at the words.
How did Jon help? Ned wondered. Maybe he had seen the man and had called for help. Whatever the case, Ned was relieved that his son...nephew had done something to save Sansa. He hoped this would convince his daughter that she should be kinder towards Jon.
The ride back to Winterfell took twenty minutes despite the harsh cold and the summer snow. Soon, the castle slowly appeared before them, and they reached the King's road that led directly to the castle. They rode through Winter Town, the streets empty, and soon, Winterfell's walls loomed over them like giants.
"Open The Gates," Ned roared at the guards on the towers. They did as they were told and started moving the wheel on the tower, causing the metallic gate to lift upwards, bits of snow falling off. The moment it was open enough, Ned rode forward, pushing his head down to avoid the gate's pointy ends, reaching the first courtyard of Winterfell.
Once he reached the stables, he handed the reins of his horse to his squire before rushing to the Family House, which was located near the Guest House, connected through a covered bridge.
Ned noticed the number of guards patrolling the whole place. Usually, in the middle of the night, there were only ten guards in the Main Courtyard of Winterfell, but right now, he was sure he could see over thirty of them holding weapons, crossbows, spears, and chainmail.
From the corner of his eyes, he saw the old tower in the distance near the North Gate. The old tower was the oldest tower in Winterfell, and part of its roof had collapsed even before he was born. But now, the entire roof was gone, revealing the blackened wooden floor underneath. He could almost see the trail of black smoke still coming from the tower.
Ned walked into the Family House. It was a circular building with a round spiral staircase that went upwards along the wall to the second, third, and fourth floors. "Catelyn." He called out as he climbed the stairs and reached the second floor.
"Ned, here." He heard her voice and reached the chamber he shared with Catelyn. Four guards, including Ser Rodrik, were guarding the door. Ned saw that Robb was waiting outside, looking frightened, leaning against the wall, while Jon was the only one who seemed mildly annoyed about something.
"Lord Stark, your daughter is fine, just a little in shock." Ser Rodrik informed him with a calming voice; Ned just gave him a nod; he reminded himself to talk with them later and for him to explain to him how someone could sneak into Winterfell like this and how Jon was involved in all of this.
"Father," His son flew like an arrow, hugging his legs, his little body shaking, his blue eyes staring up at his. Ned rubbed his head of hair.
"Sansa is scared father. She won't stop crying," Robb told him with a shaky voice, but Ned had to pull him away from his leg.
"Stay here then. I will take care of your sister, stay here, and protect Jon," Ned told him in a calming voice. Robb nodded fearlessly, while Jon rolled his eyes but said nothing to his father.
Ned walked into the chamber, and the sight made his heart freeze for a moment. Catelyn was hugging Sansa as she sobbed against her shoulder. The two were sitting in the middle of the bed while Ned's mother was talking with one of the guards she had brought from her father's castle.
"Sansa." Ned quickly closed the distance, and his daughter cried out as she threw her arms around his legs.
"You are safe now. Shhhh," Ned said with a fatherly voice, rubbing her long red hair and pulling away. He looked at her, but he couldn't see any injuries. Even her nightgown didn't seem to have any cuts or signs of fighting.
"Sansa heard the man was caught in her chamber, and now she fears someone else might try to kidnap her again." Catelyn explained when she noticed Ned checking on their daughter, and Ned rubbed Sansa's back, trying to calm her down.
"Sansa, no one will get close to you again. The soldiers are everywhere, they will protect you." Ned said reassuringly.
"A-are you sure?" Ned's cloak muffled Sansa's cries.
"Yes. I promise you. As long as I live, no one will hurt you again." Ned promised before kissing the top of her head. Sansa's body slowly relaxed, and he handed her back to Catelyn before turning to face his mother.
With a look, the two of them walked outside, leaving behind Catelyn and Sansa. Jory Cassel soon joined them. Once they reached his solar, Ned wasted no time asking for the truth. "Where is this man?" Ned demanded with a growl. The other door of Ned's solar opened, located on the far left side of the chamber. Maester Luwin walked in with a worried expression.
"Imprisoned in the cells underneath the Armory, my Lord. One of his legs has a broken arrow stuck inside; Maester Luwin says that he cannot pull it out without having the man bleed out, so we used a towel and some rope around his knee to make sure he doesn't move it as much, his other leg can be saved."
"Who is he? And I want to know how it is possible that he sneaked into Winterfell without anyone noticing?" Ned demanded with a growl of anger, sounding like a wild animal, as he gave Jory a stern look. The man was the captain of the Household Guard. He was the one responsible for the security of Winterfell, and now he finds out that a man had somehow managed to slip inside.
Jory explained to him that Jon had stopped the man, using a crossbow to disable his legs. Then Jon called the guards, who escorted the man to a cell to be kept there for questioning later. According to Jon, the man was an Iron Born, pointing out that he had scars on his neck, similar to the ones that people from Iron Islands can have when they go through the ceremony of 'What is Dead May Never Die.'
Ned knew he would need to talk with his son later about this; he wondered if it was just luck that his son was in the right place at the right time.
"We have been trying to know how he got inside, but he's not talking, but he does seem afraid of Jon, my Lord."
This caught Ned off guard; he wasn't sure he liked this information. "Afraid of Jon! Why?" Ned asked, nervousness seeping into his voice. He knew Jon had apparently used a crossbow on the man, but Jon was still only seven years old, too young to be feared by anyone.
Jory shifted uncomfortably where he stood. He seemed like he didn't want to answer. "We are not sure, my lord, but when we took him away, he kept calling Jon bad names, and when we locked him up, Lady Lyarra walked into the underground room with Jon, and when he saw Jon enter, he started thrashing and screaming like a wounded animal, screaming for Jon to not get closer."
Ned didn't like what he was hearing. He was grateful he had saved Sansa's life, but what could Jon have done to make someone so afraid of him?
"I will need to speak with Jon later. I want to hear it from him," Ned said with a final voice, remembering that out of all his children, Jon was the only one who didn't seem shaken up that someone had almost kidnapped Sansa and could have done the same to them. He was still young, yet it seemed he wasn't afraid of the thought of someone else trying to enter Winterfell.
"Of course, my lord."
"And I want you to triple the number of soldiers guarding. I don't want something like this to happen again, you hear me Jory. This will not happen again, right?"
"I swear, Lord Stark. I will make sure something like this never happens again. I will talk with the soldiers right now and position them in new locations." Jory said with gratitude in his voice, knowing Lord Stark could have kicked him out of Winterfell for allowing something like this to happen. Jory turned on his heels, ready to leave the solar and gather his soldiers, when Lord Stark called him again.
"Tell Jon to come here," Ned ordered, and Jory left the solar after nodding his head. Once the door was closed, his mother looked at him keenly.
"I hope you are not going to berate him for harming a filthy Iron Born." His mother said with venom in her voice, the wolf blood in her roaring. Ned had seen that look many times before but was no longer a child.
"I want to know how my son found out about this, I want to know why he confronted this man alone, and why this man is so afraid of Jon. He's only seven, and he should not have to deal with this." Ned argued. He didn't want Jon to see these things yet.
If he had been nine or ten, he would have understood. He had been only nine when his foster Father had taken him and Robert to watch an execution. Unlike Robert, who had laughed and kicked the head after it was done, Ned had looked away. He still remembered his foster father's words.
'Ned, whatever you are a second son, or the heir, it does not change the world we live in. In this world, you need to get used to this, to the sight of blood, to the sight of the dead. One day, you will be out there, sword in hand, and one moment of hesitation will be enough to change how that fight will end. Remember, Hesitation is Defeat. So, in the next execution, don't close your eyes.'
"Ned." His mother's voice made him escape his thoughts as she scooted out of a chair and sat down on the other side of the table. "I won't pretend to know what he was thinking, but I'm sure he had a reason to confront him alone."
"Is not just that, mother. The time this man attacked, Sansa is always in her chamber at this time of night, so why wasn't she there? I'm happy she wasn't there, but it feels like she knew or someone told her to not be there tonight, and him confronting this man alone. I know you taught him how to fight, but this is a grown man. This could have gone wrong in many ways." Ned explained his point, sounding a little exasperated, before clearing his throat. "He is still a child; he should not think he is already ready to fight grown-ups because he is not. He should not get cocky."
"I think he knows that, Ned. That's why he had a crossbow with him, he knew he was weaker, and not fast enough to fight a grown up, so he had the crossbow with him." Lyarra reminded him with a sharp voice, but before Ned could argue back, the two heard a knocking on the door.
"Come in."
The door opened, and Jon appeared with Jory by his side. Ned arched an eyebrow at Jory when he entered with Jon and closed the door.
"My Lord. I just wanted to inform you that I gathered everyone in Guard's hall. I told everyone to keep their eyes open. From now on, there will be triple the number of soldiers who will watch the place and make sure no one else will enter. I talked with Jonath, and he says we should see if there's more out there, and why an Iron Born is out here, so far away from the Iron Islands." Jory explained, and Ned was ready to give the order for the prisoner to be questioned sharply when someone else spoke.
"I think I know why he was here." It took Ned a moment to remember that Jon was also in the room; the four grown-ups looked down at the only kid in the solar who was busy looking down at a piece of drawing he had made.
"Jon. Why would you know that?" Ned questioned, a little perplexed. The way Jon was looking at him right now, his eyes, made him feel like he was looking at a young man instead of a child.
"The marks on his neck. The Iron shits have a ceremony where they drown you, and you are supposed to be brought back to life. I think what happened to this one. When he went through this ceremony, he struggled more than the others when they kept his head underwater, and this explains why there are finger marks on his neck; they had to add a lot of force on him when they went through the ceremony. Also when I used my crossbow on him, he called me 'a filthy greener' whatever that means." Jon answered a little too casually for Ned's taste, but he decided to ignore that for now. He trusted Jory and Jon's judgment when they said this man was an Iron Born.
"Jon, why do you think this man was here?"
"He was here to kidnap, Sansa, that much is clear, but after Jory and his men placed him in the cell. I checked the places where I saw him, and I found—" His words trailed off as he dug deep into his pockets; pulling out his hand, he threw a bone dagger on the table, along with other tools made of bones.
Ned reached out and grabbed the bone dagger; the realization fell on his face like cold water, and a look of horror grew on his face. "He was going to put the blame on the Wildlings," Ned said with a hushed tone, but everyone still heard him.
"I think so, and since the story of Bael the Bard is still told to this day, I think everyone would have thought that the wildlings kidnaped Sansa. By the time we realised the Wildings had nothing to do with this, Sansa would already be in the Iron Islands. Balon Greyjoy would have send you a letter, letting you know that Sansa is with him, and force the entire North to not attack the Iron Islands." Jon's words made the room fall silent.
Ned felt his throat go dry; the mere thought of someone doing that to his little girl made his blood boil. A part of him wanted to call the banners and sail to Iron Island to take Balon Greyjoy's head, but they needed more proof. While this man might be an Iron Born, one could say he came here on his own accords, and no one ordered him to do anything.
"My lord, should I sent a letter to your banners?" Maester Luwin questioned him, and Ned had almost forgotten the man was here.
"Maester Luwin, do you think Balon Greyjoy sent this man to Winterfell to kidnap Sansa?" Ned asked with a troubled look. Maester Luwin was someone he trusted as much as his family, and his words held a lot of weight for Ned.
"My Lord, right now. We need concrete proof that something more is happening here, and the man who can give us answers is our prisoner." Maester Luwin said with a deep frown on his face. While he knew Jon was probably right about his assumption, he really wished that he was wrong this time. War was an ugly thing; men went to war, and many never returned. He didn't want the same to happen to Lord Stark and any men who would fight in this war, but if Jon was right, he knew war would follow. He could only hope that young Jon was wrong, even if his own brain was using logic and telling him that young Jon was right.
"Jon. I want you to tell me everything, how did you know this man would attack. Everything that you did the whole day." Ned demanded, looking right at his s̶o̶n̶ nephew.
Jon explained the first time he saw the man, how he had seen him a couple of times throughout the day, and how he had followed after him when he set the old tower on fire, how he had told Sansa not to be in her chamber this night because he would give her his gift if she did not stay there, how he had grabbed a crossbow from the armory like an hour before the tower burst in flames. How he followed him, and once the man opened Sansa's door, confirming that he was there for Sansa, only then did he use his crossbow to incapacitate him.
"Jon, why didn't you tell anyone?" Ned was quick to berate him. His mother opened her mouth to defend him, perhaps, but Ned wouldn't hear it, not this time.
"Jon. You knew about this man being here for half a day and didn't tell anyone. What if he had killed someone?" "Father. I wouldn't have-" "Jon. You allowed him to set the old tower ablaze; what if someone got hurt? What if someone had been there, and he had killed them? What then? Why didn't you call the guards after you saw him running towards Sansa's chamber? What if you had missed your shot? What if he had heard you? What if he had killed you? How do you think I would have felt?" Ned questioned harshly with a hard look, staring right at his purple eyes as he said it.
Jon's face slowly filled with guilt, knowing his father was right. Many things could have gone wrong, but he hadn't told anyone because he wanted to be the one to catch him. "I'm sorry, father." Jon apologized, not knowing what else to say, his eyes burning, his head hanging down in shame. Ned sighed before standing up, walking around the desk, and stopping beside Jon's chair.
"Jon, you are my blood. I care about you, and I'm telling you this because it could have gone wrong. You could have been killed," Ned said, horrified by the mere thought of losing Jon.
'Promise, Promise Me, Ned.'
"Next time, I want you to think more about what you are doing, but I'm still proud of you, Jon. You protected your sister, you saved her from a fate worse than death, for that. I'm proud of you." Ned added with a little smile, and Jon snapped his eyes up at him. His gloomy face disappeared, and a big smile spread on his face.
"You are proud of me?"
"Yes. I am proud of you." Ned admitted sincerely before reaching down and messing up Jon's hair, causing the little boy to chuckle in amusement.
Ned cleared his throat before addressing everyone else. While what his son had done had been reckless, at the very least, he had made sure Sansa had not been in her chamber when the man tried to kidnap her.
"Jory. We will go and pay him a visit, we need every bit of information he has for us." Ned ordered the man, but one little boy wasn't done yet.
"Father, there's something that is bothering me."
"What is it, Jon?"
"Winterfell is too far away from the shore. It would be idiotic to think that Balon sent only one man to get Sansa. It's very difficult to sail a ship from the Iron Islands to the North when you are by yourself and then walk all the way to Winterfell with just your own supplies. Bandits, wild animals. I find it hard to believe this man came alone." Jon explained his point, looking around at the grown-ups and trying to see what they thought of his theory, and it seemed they agreed with him.
"I think Jon is right, Lord Stark. Something similar happened to my uncle years ago. They sent out one man as a distraction, while the real group was somewhere else." Jory's words rang alarm bells in Ned, who wondered if they would get attacked.
"I don't think they will attack Winterfell. Iron Borns are dumb, but they are not that dumb. I think the rest of this man's group is located just near enough Winterfell, and right now they are waiting for him to return with Sansa." Jon added, not noticing the look of pride he received from Lady Lyarra.
"Maester Luwin, give us a map, please." Lyarra requested immediately, and the man quickly did as he was told. He grabbed a long scroll from a map holder on the wall and handed it to Lyarra, who flattened it on the table. The map showed Winterfell, Winter Town, Wolf's Wood, and Castle Cerwyn and even showed the location of Breakstone Hill, which was on the edge of the map.
Lyarra was and always has been a good huntress. Her father had made sure she knew how to track animals, where they would try to run away if they were wounded, and where to find them. In a way, people weren't that different. As she looked at the map, she slowly tapped three locations around Winterfell.
"Why those three, my Lady?" Jory asked with a hint of awe, wanting to know how she could know that by looking at the map.
"The three Rivers run near this places, they should have set camp near them, not only do they get fresh water, animals will come near the rivers to drink, and killing one is easy, and most importantly, the river looses their scent, so if they are being chased by dogs, using the river will make it difficult for the dogs to find them." Lyarra explained her point as they all looked at the map.
"I don't think they will try to set camp here." Ned suddenly added, pointing at the location that was the furthest north, near the foot of a mountain. "This one is the farthest from the shore, and it wouldn't make sense for them to set camp here," Ned explained, and the Maester used a quill to cross the third location, but they were still left with two others, and the rives were long; they went through the entire North until they reached the ocean.
"Father, I think I have an idea to find out where their camp is set exactly."
Below the Armory - Foolish Man
He breathed heavily; the leg exploded in pain from the smallest movement, and his screams echoed in the cell. He could feel his clothes clinching uncomfortably against his skin. He was sure he heard a mouse moving near his cell. His body was spread across the cell floor, the old cunt had placed a wooden blank over his lower leg, below the kneecap, and above the kneecap to keep his leg in the same position, and a piece of clothing that was stinking was wrapped around the arrowhead still inside the back of his knee, the tail still sticking out, reminding him that he was defeated by a kid.
"King Balon, please, save me. Oh, King Balon, please save me. Bring your wrath to this land, and save me." Suddenly, the door opened, and the devil appeared.
"NOO! Stay Away!!" He thrashed, and his leg exploded in pain once again; a scream escaped his lungs; even his other leg felt on fire, and he could feel it getting wet as blood dripped down from the end of the towel that was used around his other leg. The devil closed the door behind him before walking up to his cell; he was small and thin enough that he could almost squeeze between the bars.
"We captured another one of your friends," the devil said, and the man felt his heart almost explode from his chest.
"...WHAT?" His voice came out hoarse and exhausted as if he had run for three days straight without stopping, his throat dry like a desert; he wanted to drink water, anything.
"Yes. But it seems your friend is more cooperative than you. We know there are others out there, and we made him a deal." The devil said, and the man felt his throat go dry.
"...A Deal?"
"Yes. He told us where the others are, and in return, he will be set free, and one hundred silver stags will be given to him as a 'Thank you' for his cooperation." the devil said with a blank voice, and the man could feel the cold sweat running down his forehead like ice. He breathed heavily, trying to calm himself, but the closer the devil got, the more he wanted to run away.
The devil boy slowly pulled out a knife, blood dripping from it. It was fresh blood, and the man tried to crawl away somehow, to disappear, but his leg exploded in pain once again, and his screams echoed in the cell.
"PLEASE!" He begged, his back against the wall; his arms were behind his back with a pair of handcuffs, making it impossible to cover his face.
"We don't need you anymore; he already told us where your camp is," the devil said. To prove his point, he pulled out a map showing the place the traitor had marked with blood, which was located south-southeast of Winterfell.
The man stopped thrashing when he came up with an idea. This was just a kid. A kid he could easily fool.
"He is lying to you."
This made the boy stop in his tracks, and he cocked an eyebrow.
"Oh, why would he do that, or are you just doing this to fool us?"
"NO. I swear. I'm not lying. It's right there. He's lying to you. I remember it, a long tree was there, and the river went through the camp, there was...there was a nearby hill, and we saw a ruined house. I swear I'm not lying. He's lying." The man begged, his voice growing hoarse the more he talked.
"Alright, let's play a game then. You say he is lying, but I believe him. So I'm going to ask him again, but before we do that." The boy pulled out a piece of a map. This one showed the area around Winterfell, including the locations where the two suspected locations for the camp were.
The boy suddenly placed the handle of his knife in his mouth, and his teeth bit into the wooden handle, the blade pointing at the boy. "You will mark it on this map, and for your sake, it better be the same place your friend marks as well."
The man realized he was trapped; if he continued with the lie, his friend would mark the right location, and the boy said they trusted him, so if he marked the wrong location, they would think he was the one lying, and they would kill him.
The man quickly moved his head forward, using the pointy end covered in blood to mark the place where their camp was set. Once he did, he spit out the knife from his mouth.
"Go ahead. Ask him. I ain't lying. I ain't lying." The man swore as his head slumped down.
Suddenly, he heard the door shut and looked up to see the devil boy gone.
The Camp
"It's cold. My hands are falling off. How the fuck can these people live here?" One complained, rubbing his hands together, trying to warm himself up. Another one started cutting open the deer they had caught.
"We can use her insides; it's warm here!" One shouted to the others as he put his hands inside the guts of the deer. He yelped in pain from the sudden heat inside, and the meat was still moving despite the deer dying ten minutes ago.
"Where is that fucker, Malasort? How hard can it be to kidnap a whore? She's what...five, six. Why is he so late?" Another complained, throwing his axe against a tree.
"Will you all just shut up?" His voice echoed through the woods like a horn; his crew fell quiet. "If you came here to fucking complain then why the fuck do you come here? Now be quiet, or I will open your bellies and use your bodies to warm myself." Maron shouted at his men with mad eyes. His crew fell silent, and he sighed in relief; at the very least, they knew fear and knew to follow orders.
He reached down and grabbed the skin bottle with wine strapped to his waist with thin skin ropes, and he drank from it; he felt the warm liquid warming his insides when they all heard it...
"Someone's coming!!" one shouted, and everyone quickly grabbed their weapons. Malon reached down and grabbed his throwing axe, and the sound was getting louder. He breathed heavily, the summer snow falling on his face, and the closer this sound got, the more he realized he was hearing the sound of horses walking, and they were carrying something.
Malon made a sign with his hand, and everyone found a tree to hide behind. Soon, the sound became louder, and through a narrow dirt road, two rows of horses appeared as if from the sky. They were pulling a large covered wagon, and the one holding the reins was a beautiful woman with long dark hair.
This doesn't look right, Malon thought; this road was very hidden, leading to no castles and not towards the South, so why was this beautiful woman here with a large covered wagon?
Shit, Malon cursed under his breath, making a sign with his hand that meant. 'This is a trap; do not come out of your hiding.'
"What! Look at her captain. I haven't wet my dick for three whole weeks."
"Yeah, and look at that wagon, she might be hiding gold."
"Yeah, and what can a woman do anyway? Right guys."
"YEAHH!!" Malon cursed his luck as all his crew came out of their hiding like idiots, one by one, and quickly ran up to the wagon like wild beasts.
Surprisingly, the woman didn't scream out in panic. Instead, she looked around frantically but kept calm. The horses whistled loudly in fear when his men moved in front of them with axes, spreading their arms, and the horses stopped moving.
Malon looked around, trying to see where they were, but he couldn't see anyone as his men started talking with the woman.
"Where are you going, pretty lady?"
"Riding to my family, my lords, their house is just over the hill," the woman said politely, again showing no sign of fear.
Malon's eyes widened when he noticed. She said "My Lords" instead of "M'Lords." She is a noble woman, he thought, and then he saw it: the cover of her wagon moved, and he saw someone moving deep into the forest.
"It's A Trap!!" Malon shouted, quickly trying to throw his axe at the woman, only to hear something, like a whistle in the air, and his leg exploded in pain. Many more whistles followed the whistle, arrows rained down on them, and many of his men fell down with arrows sticking out of their heads.
Malon watched as soldiers, roaring in anger, jumped out of the covered wagon, all cloaked in armor and carrying swords.
One tried to grab the woman, but she quickly used her other hand, pulling out a knife and shoving it into the attacker's neck.
"Filthy Iron Born." She muttered under her breath as she quickly jumped from the wagon to join the fight, unsheathing her short sword.
"Lady Stark, be careful!" One shouted as an Iron Born ran towards her, raising his sword to cut her belly. She let it happen as it hit her waist; the sword was quickly blocked by the chainmail she was wearing under her dress.
The man was caught off guard, and she quickly shoved her short sword into his eyesocket; another ran screaming towards her, but he was pushed into the ground by her son.
Ned shoved his sword into the man's head before looking at his mother, but he sighed in relief when he saw she was unharmed.
"Mother?" He questioned as she crouched down and grabbed the handle of her short sword; with a twist of her hand, she pulled it out of the skull. The fighting was over. Only fifteen Iron Borns were in this camp.
"I'm fine, Ned." She said dismissively as everyone turned to look at the only three survivors. One of them stood out from the rest. Based on his rich clothes, they knew this one was more important than the others.
"Who are you?" The man closed his mouth and stared at the ground, ignoring them.
Lyarra watched as Jory was ready to slap the man and demand from him who he was, but they had two others who could tell them.
"You two." She quickly addressed the two others who were shaking in fear.
"M'Lady, please, I didn't want to come here. I needed money and-"
"What is his name?" Lyarra ignored his pleas for mercy. She had heard so many, humans and animals. This is why she preferred to always be quick with her kills; she found their pleas for mercy annoying.
"Tell us now, and you two will be set free," Lyarra said, much to the shock of everyone. Even her son looked at her perplexed, mouthing, 'What are you doing?' but she ignored him as the two of them, who had their hands up, looked at her with hopeful looks.
"You promise?"
"I do." Lyarra said right away.
"Malon Greyjoy, he is Malon Greyjoy. Balon Greyjoy's second son." Upon hearing that, Malon punched one of them in the face, but he was quickly grabbed by two soldiers, keeping his arms behind his back.
"Why are you here?" Ned questioned, looking down at them with a hard look, ignoring the Greyjoy for now.
"We don't know. We swear. Lord Balon told us to kidnap Sansa Stark. That's all we know. We swear." The two said pleadingly, and everyone knew they were telling the truth.
Ned was ready to give the order to let them go, his mother had made a promise after all, but all his words died in his throat when his mother walked up to them, and with a single swing of her short sword, their throats were slit open, and the two started thrashing around the snow as blood spilled from their throats like fountains.
"Ned, are we done here?" Her mother questioned him casually, and he turned to face the others; all seemed a little shocked by what had just happened.
"We are leaving," Ned shouted at his soldiers, and they all whistled, calling back the horses they had used to come here. Some climbed onto the covered wagon.
"Why do you do this?" Ned asked his mother, grabbing her by the wrist when she tried to walk past him. He then pulled himself and her away from the others to talk privately.
"Son, these people were here for Sansa."
"You didn't have to promise them anything. There was no need for that."
"Ned." She screamed in a hushed tone, trying to keep her voice quiet. She didn't want to undermine her son in front of his soldiers; it would be a bad look for House Stark.
"They are filthy Iron Borns. They don't deserve our honor, son. You must understand that." Lyarra said firmly.
"You promised them you would release them?"
"Yes, and I released them in seven hells where they belong, son. Not everyone deserves Honor. Make sure to remember this." Her mother said fiercely with a sharp look, before moving her hand away, releasing her wrist from his grip, and Ned didn't know what else to say.
He wanted to argue, but he reminded himself that sending a raven to the King and his Banners was more important right now.
"Now, come. Jon will be happy to know his plan succeded."
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