Catelyn stood on the battlements over the main gate, staring out over the road and the small town it went through. Ser Rodrik had promised to send a rider back when he and his men had retaken Deepwood Motte. The old knight had taken nearly six hundred men, stripping the strong garrison that Robb had left at Winterfell in addition to the men that Cley Cerwyn had brought with him from Castle Cerwyn.
They had left almost a week ago, and Catelyn knew that it was only a few days' ride to the seat of the Glovers, quicker if there were men who knew the Wolfswood, which there undoubtedly were. Then there would be a siege and the taking of the castle itself. Catelyn wasn't sure how many raiders held Deepwood Motte, but she hoped that Rodrik would take the castle quickly and return with the men meant to protect Winterfell.
As much as she tried not to, the Lady of Winterfell was beginning to worry. Catelyn knew that her home was far from the ocean, but she couldn't help but worry about the castle being attacked. Winterfell was a great stronghold, but it had less than half of the garrison her son had left behind. Little more than two hundred men, most of which were poorly trained villagers who looked like warriors, but most certainly weren't.
Finally, after more than an hour of waiting, the cold became too much and Catelyn retired to Ned's solar, where she had taken over ruling Winterfell and the North in Robb's stead. Her son Bran had done a marvelous job, but Catelyn slightly enjoyed having work to keep her mind off the south and her eldest.
Inside the room, Maester Luwin was waiting patiently, a handful of raven messages in his hands.
"My lady," he said, bowing when Catelyn entered.
Catelyn nodded slightly, taking her seat at the desk. "Are those messages from the other northern lords?"
Luwin nodded, placing the small pieces of parchment neatly down on the desk. "They are, my lady. Lord Wyman is currently sending three hundred men under his cousin Ser Marlon. Arnolf Karstark is also marching two hundred men from Karhold. Finally, there has been word from the Twins that Lord Roose Bolton is marching north with his men, along with those of House Dustin and House Ryswell." The maester explained. "There also seems to be men mustering to the Dreadfort, no doubt also the work of Lord Bolton."
"What of House Umber?" Catelyn asked. "Or House Hornwood?"
Luwin shook his head. "I'm afraid neither house can send aid, my lady. They sent many men south with King Robb and would not have enough to collect the harvest if they sent men south to Winterfell."
Catelyn huffed but nodded. "Very well. Has there been any word from the Rills or Barrowtown?"
Luwin shook his head again. "Lady Barbrey nor her father have returned any of the ravens I have sent. It seems that they are keeping their men back to protect themselves."
Catelyn sighed in annoyance. "When the ironborn are repelled, I want a message sent to my son telling him of their reluctance to protect the North," she ordered. She had watched her father struggle with the Freys and had no wish to see her son deal with the same problem.
She had asked Ned a dozen or so times during their marriage what had happened that destroyed the relationship between Barrowtown, the Rills, and Winterfell, but her husband had never given her a good answer.
'It was my fault.'
It was Ned's customary answer to Catelyn's questions that he refused to answer. She received the same answer when she had asked about the bastard's mother and what had happened to Lyanna Stark. Whatever had happened between Barbrey Dustin, Rodrik Ryswell, and her husband was an answer Catelyn had to wait for.
Luwin bowed slightly. "Of course."
"Is there anything else I should know?" Catelyn asked, glancing at the raven messages before putting them off to the side.
Luwin shook his head. "There's been word from Bear Island. Their largest fishing village was hit when Deepwoof Motte and Torrhen's Square were."
"But the keep was not taken?" Catelyn asked.
Luwin shook his head. "Even with overwhelming numbers, the ironborn did not attempt to take the keep. They instead went back to their boats and sailed off."
Catelyn sighed rubbing her head. The ironborn were hitting the North all along the coastline, all except for Eagle's Roost. That was one place that not even the ironborn would attack, not without thousands and thousands of men and quite a lot of courage. She knew the story of Havar 'Iron-Eater' Hawker, it was a popular one in the North, especially after Balon Greyjoy's first failed rebellion.
Bowden Hawker, captain of the Seahawk and commanders of the Western Fleet, was still making his way back north. The castellan of Flint's Finger sent a raven not long ago saying that Bowden had made it to Cape Kraken. Unfortunately, the elements seemed to be against the man, as he was having to row the entire way north. A slow and arduous process that would leave many of his fighters tired.
"We'll rally what men we can here," she said tiredly. "Ser Marlon will take whatever force we can muster and march south to help Torrhen's Square."
"My lady, should I send a rider to the Mountain Clans?" Luwin asked.
Catelyn shook her head. "Leave them be," she answered. "If we need their help, we'll ask."
Even after years of living in the North, and having met many of the Mountain Clan chieftains, she had always been wary of them. They were not like any nobles that she had met before, if they could even be called nobles. They were gargantuan, boisterous men who treated her husband with the greatest respect, but she wasn't her husband. She wasn't sure if they would answer her call for help.
Luwin hesitated but nodded. It was obvious that the older maester disagreed with the decision, but he didn't say anything. He bowed once more.
"With your leave, my lady," he said before leaving.
Catelyn watched him go before turning her attention to the stack of reports and messages that required her opinion and notice. Besides the war effort, there were still reports on the harvest happening across the North, not to mention conflicts between lords and farmers, and now there were reports on the survivors of the ironborn raids. Most were streaming into Barrowtown, Winterfell, or Eagle's Roost, but there were pitifully few. The North was vast, and it was a trek to get anywhere, especially on foot. Very few made it to safety, especially those with wounds or who were sick.
The Lady of Winterfell was doing all she could to help the survivors, feeding them, and helping them find shelter among the generous people of Winter town. For those who were strong enough, she had put them to work helping with the harvest. She hated to do it, but like the Umbers and Hornwoods had said; they needed all the hands they could to bring in the harvest before it went bad.
Catelyn sighed and started to go through the reports. She hadn't had very long to spend time with her children as she had immediately taken charge when she had entered Winterfell, sending messages across the North and taking over as ruler of Winterfell. According to Luwin, Rickon wasn't very happy, but Bran and the woman Osha were doing all they could to keep the boy entertained. Catelyn longed to spend time with her children, having been away from them for so long, but she couldn't leave the desk. There was so much to take care of, and she could hardly step away.
There were also the children of Howland Reed; Jojen and Meera, whom Catelyn hadn't properly met yet. They had arrived for the Harvest Festival a few weeks ago and had stayed in Winterfell, befriending both Bran and Rickon.
There was so much going on in the south that Catelyn thought it best to retire to the North, hoping to get away from the bloodshed and heartache. Instead, she walked from one warzone into another.
Line Break
Catelyn's eyes shot open as she heard the sounds of metal crunching into wood. She sat up in bed, pulling the covers up close to her chest, watching in horror as the axe head sheared through her door, causing a gap wide enough for her to see who her assailants were.
They wore dark leathers and chainmail with pot helms. Some carried square shields and the majority wielded axes. If their attire and weapons didn't give them away, the emblem on their chests and shields was unmistakable. It was the golden kraken of House Greyjoy.
The ironborn were attacking Winterfell.
The door finally swung open after a few more axe strokes broke the wooden lock. Half a dozen men swarmed in, dragging the Lady of Winterfell from her bed. Catelyn tried to fight them off, clawing and raking at them, yelling and shouting, but it did nothing. Not only were they far stronger than her, but they were also wearing armor.
Catelyn was dragged from the room and through the castle, watching helplessly as more ironborn raiders ran through the halls, the cries and screams of men and women following wherever they went. She tried her best to keep her eyes from roaming her home, not wanting to see her innocent maids and servants assaulted and abused by the invaders.
Finally, Catelyn was brought to the main hall, where more of her household was sitting in the middle of the room. Bran was there, lying awkwardly as two other children sat next to him protectively. Rickon was also there, crying softly. The wildling, Osha, was by him, trying to soothe him. One of her eyes was black and swollen, her reward for trying to fight off the invaders.
Luwin was also there, on his knees and still dressed in his grey robe and maester chain. In all the time Catelyn had known the old maester, he had been calm and reserved. He had never once raised his voice or even glared. That was not the case. The maester's face was dark with fury as he glared at the other person in the hall.
Lounging on the Throne of Winter, where Eddard Stark and Robb Stark had ruled Winterfell, sat Theon Greyjoy, twirling an arrow in his hand. Standing next to the chair was a stout, older man with a terrible cut running down his mouth, forming his lips into four separate parts. He was grinning evilly as Catelyn was dragged into the room. Grasped in both hands and leaning on his shoulder was a battleaxe, the iron head stained with blood.
"Lady Stark, how nice of you to join us," Theon said, gazing at Catelyn. "I hope my men didn't treat you too badly."
For a moment, Catelyn couldn't even speak. She was so shocked at seeing Theon before her, dressed like the raiders who had grabbed her from her bed. He was leaner, as if he hadn't eaten in the last few days. His beard was also scruffier and untamed. But he still had that arrogant look in his eye and a smirk on his face.
Catelyn soon overcame her shock and was filled with rage. "What is the meaning of this!"
Theon raised an eyebrow. "Isn't it obvious?" He asked as Catelyn was shoved to the ground with the rest of her family. "Winterfell is mine."
"You betrayed my son," Catelyn growled. "My husband raised you…."
"Eddard Stark took me from my home, my family!" Theon snapped, stabbing the arrow into the armrest of the chair as he sat up. "I am simply repaying the favor."
"Robb trusted you!" Catelyn cried.
"Robb freed me!" Theon barked. "My father has a long memory, Lady Stark. He has not forgotten the part the North played in his rebellion all those years ago." Theon now stood up, walking slowly towards Catelyn. "Now we will have our revenge."
Catelyn had always been a little sharper than her siblings. Learning history, arithmetic, and all the other lessons from her maester had been easy for her. Now her quick mind betrayed her in the worst moment. She knew that the only way Theon had made it to Winterfell without anyone knowing was through the Wolfswood. He had grown up in the castle and knew the trails through the dark forest.
It was the same path Ser Rodrik had taken.
"What have you done to Ser Rodrik?" Catelyn asked, her voice low and full of venom.
Theon turned to the other man, who pulled a longsword from his belt, the blade still stained with blood. He tossed the sword to Theon, who caught it and began to examine it in front of Catelyn.
"I'm afraid Ser Rodrik won't be saving anyone," he said with mock sadness. "Nor will Cley Cerwyn."
"What did you do?" Catelyn growled.
Theon smirked. "Isn't it obvious?" He asked, throwing the sword on the ground, causing Catelyn to recoil slightly. "They're dead."
"Oathbreaker." Osha snarled.
Theon stepped forward and backhanded the woman, causing her to fall to the ground fully. "I'd watch how you speak," he growled, stepping back and looking at Catelyn now. "You speak to the Prince of Winterfell."