The Leech Lord worked slowly through the reports that cluttered his black desk. He had placed his faith in the old lion and his ability to kill Stark, but for once, Tywin Lannister had been unable to live up to his reputation. It was close when Roose heard that Tywin had beaten Robb at Harrenhal, but when the knights of the Vale had surprised the lannister forces at High Heart, Roose knew that he could no longer rely on Tywin.
He had rolled the dice in a play for power, and now Roose was alone with barely enough men to protect himself.
He had two thousand men with him at the Dreadfort. Arnolf Karstark and his son had another two thousand at the Last Hearth. The bulk of Roose's forces were at Eagle's Roost under Rodrik Ryswell's command. Five thousand Ryswell, Dustin, and Frey men.
Ryswell's force was taking a beating during their siege of the town, and while Roose hoped that they would be able to burn the town, he doubted they would be able to. The other northern lords finally made it past Moat Cailin and it was not hard to know where Roland Hawker was going first.
"My lord," Walton said, knocking on the door.
"Come," Roose answered, not looking up from his work. "What?"
"More reports from the scouts." The captain said, standing at attention after closing the door behind him. "The northern army under Snow has marched west towards Barrowton and the Rills."
Roose glanced up at the long-legged soldier. "The entire army?"
"All ten thousand men," Walton confirmed.
Roose leaned back in his chair, thinking quickly. Obviously, the boy was in no rush to free the North, or else he would have split his force and attacked both Ryswell and Roose. If he was going west, then he would easily be able to take both Barrowton and the Rills before moving on Eagle's Roost, where he would destroy Lord Ryswell's host.
Then he would be free to move on to Roose without having to watch his back.
"Send word to Arnolf," Roose ordered. "Tell him to return here with his men."
Walton bowed slightly. "We have also investigated the strange disappearance of the ironborn."
"They attacked my castle a few nights ago." Roose scowled. "They're not gone."
"The scouts have found Torrhen's Square completely abandoned, and Ryswell sends word that there are no more raids along the Stoney Shore," Walton answered. "We believe that the raiders came from Deepwood Motte, where the ironborn still remain."
Roose nodded slightly. If this was the case, then that would give Roose more time to prepare his defenses. It would also serve to bloody the bastard's forces before moving on to the Dreadfort.
"What else have the scouts reported?" Roose asked.
"The Company of the Rose has arrived in the North," Walton answered immediately. "Four thousand sellswords."
Roose cursed internally. If the Starks had bought them, then he was well and truly fucked.
"Ride out to meet with them immediately." Roose snapped. "Offer them whatever it takes to bring them to our side."
"Will that work?" Walton asked.
Roose glared at his captain. "They're sellswords. Money is all they care about. Now go, and tell Ramsay I need him."
The captain bowed and left, leaving Roose alone to dwell on his position. He had been a prominent commander in the northern army and he and his men had filled their pockets with the wealth of the Westerlands. Then, when the ironborn attacked, the Blackfish had honored him with the mission of saving the North. Roose could have made himself a war hero and a savior of the North.
Instead, he had thrown all that away in a roll of the dice. He had thought that, with the lannisters supported by the dornish and the Vale, Robb Stark wouldn't stand a chance and the lords of the North would submit themselves to Roose's rule. It was a power play that Roose's ancestors have never had a chance to take. It was a chance to take their rightful place as the true Lord Paramounts of the North.
Now it was all crumbling around the Leech Lord.
Tywin had been defeated and sent scurrying south, his power all but broken. The dornish seemed to have abandoned him. The Vale has declared for the Stark boy. All Roose was left with was a fortune of gold and nine thousand men to defend his claim against ten thousand angry northmen.
Buying the Company of the Rose was one last dice roll for Roose. If he could get them, make a small host of eight thousand men, it might be enough to defeat the bastard's army after they had battled the Ryswell's and the ironborn.
"Father?" Ramsay asked, striding in. Reek, his servant, stood in the doorway.
"You will take a hundred men and ride out," Roose said immediately, not wasting time. "From Umber lands to the Hornwoods and Manderlys. Burn every farm, take every scrap of food."
Ramsay smiled happily. "With pleasure, father."
Line Break
Barbrey Dustin
The Lady of Barrowton could do little but watch as the army marched on her home. It flew the banners of northern houses. The raging giant of Umber, the sunburst of Karstark, the Mormont bear. Flying at the head of the army was the banner that once made her heart burst with joy, but now made her blood boil.
It was the grey direwolf of House Stark.
"Should we prepare the defenses, my lady?" The captain of the guard asked.
Barbrey shook her head. "There's no point," she said bitterly. "Bring the leader of the army to the great hall."
The widow of Willam Dustin was no fool. Most of her men were in the Stoney Shore with her father. She had barely two hundred men guarding the town. Against the army at her gates, it would be stupid to even try to resist. No, she would keep her head high as she handed over her town.
Barbrey made her way back into her hall and took a seat on her throne, waiting patiently while her enemies were brought to her. She would not apologize for what she did, for being a traitor. She owed nothing to House Stark as far as she was concerned. Ned Stark failed to bring back the bones of her husband.
She owed the Starks nothing.
For what seemed like an eternity, she waited. Then she heard them. The sound of marching boots on the feet of men who moved with purpose. There was also the slight jingle of armor. Then the doors were slammed open.
She recognized most of the group. The Greatjon, Rickard Karstark, Maege Mormont, Galbart Glover, Roland Hawker, and even Howland Reed. They all looked a little older than the last time she saw them, but none looked happy to see her. Maege and Karstark even had hands on their weapons.
The one she didn't recognize was the young man in black armor leading the group. He was of average height, lean and muscular. He looked like a typical stark, with a long face, dark hair, and grey, dour eyes. At his side was a massive albino wolf.
"Lady Dustin." The young man said, his voice like iron. "You have submitted your town to my men."
Barbrey nodded stiffly. "I do. Whom do I speak to?"
"I am Jon Snow, brother to his grace, King Robb Stark, the King in the North," Jon answered.
"Traitor," Mormont growled.
"I am no such thing," Barbrey answered simply, glaring at the she-bear. "I never pledged loyalty to Robb Stark, and my loyalty to House Stark died long ago."
"Your husband pledged his loyalty to Eddard Stark when we marched south during the rebellion." The Greatjon rumbled. "I knelt next to the man."
"All my loyalty to House Stark died the moment Eddard Stark left my husband's bones in the south." The Lady of Barrowton snapped before she could stop herself, losing her composure for just a moment.
"Willam asked to be buried there." Howland Reed said quietly. "I was there, woman, I saw the man fall. His final words were to be buried in the field he fell in. I dug his grave myself. He didn't want you to be told because you wouldn't understand."
Barbrey glared at the crannogman, who gazed back at her with an emotionless look. He continued.
"Ethan Glover, Martyn Cassel, Theo Wull, and Mark Ryswell also died in the fight against Gerold Hightower, Oswell Whent, and Arthur Dayne," Howland said. "The Glovers answered Robb Stark's call for aid. The Cassel's served House Stark with unwavering loyalty. The Wulls still have nothing but love for the Starks. You and only you have grown petty and bitter."
Jon and the other northmen looked surprised with Howland's outburst, as was Barbrey herself. She knew little about the Lord of Greywater Watch, but she knew enough to know that he was not a man who spoke much. He was a man of action.
"Willam would be ashamed of how you have acted." Howland finished, his words making Barbrey flinch.
Jon looked between Barbrey and Howland before speaking.
"Lady Dustin, your husband's house has been loyal to House Stark for years. You do not get to say that you are no longer under their rule all because you are bitter." Jon said. "You are a traitor, whether you wish to acknowledge yourself as one or not. I have no power to strip you of lands or titles. That belongs to my brother alone. Instead, you shall remain here, a prisoner in your own home, and a castellan shall be instituted until King Robb passes his judgment."
"Kill me and be done with it." Barbrey snarled.
Jon shook his head. His calm, firm attitude reminded Barbrey of Eddard Stark and she was having problems controlling her emotions. It didn't help that the young man before her looked like every Stark she had ever known.
Including Brandon.
"You committed treason, my lady, but I am not the one who can sentence you to death," Jon answered, motioning for stark guards to come forward. "From this point on, you are to be confined to your chambers."
Barbrey accepted the decision with her head held high, striding out of the room on her own feet instead of being dragged out. She was the Lady of Barrowton, at least for the moment. She would act like it.
All the way to the end.
Line Break
Asha
Asha and the remainder of her men straggled back into Deepwood Motte. She had ten men with her. A tenth of the hundred men she had marched off with. The men manning the battlements looked down at her, their gazes filling her with shame. She had left so confidently, and now she returned without most of her men or her brother.
Her Nuncle was waiting in the main square.
"Need I ask?" Rodrik asked as soon as Asha dismounted.
"No," Asha answered quietly, walking past her uncle and into the keep, the older man following her.
"What happened?" Rodrik asked as soon as they were alone.
"We made it into the castle and I left the majority of my men at the base of the wall we scaled," Asha explained angrily, slamming both of her axes into a nearby table. "With a dozen of my crew we searched the castle and found Theon."
"How did he look?" Rodrik asked, crossing his arms.
"The fuckers tortured him," Asha growled. "His toes and fingers were nearly all gone. They even took his fucking cock!"
"Where there cuts in his skin?" Rodrik asked.
Asha nodded.
The Reader cursed. "You're lucky you got there when you did. I read a little on flaying, but whoever was working on him was getting ready to do so. Go on."
"We grabbed him and made it back to the wall we came over and found all my men dead. There was some bloody lunatic and a dozen of his men there." Asha shook her head. "They knew we were coming and Theon was the bait for their trap."
"You made it out alive," Rodrik observed.
"And fucked up my shoulder in the process." Asha snarled. "I had to jump over the wall and grabbed onto one of the ropes to stop myself from hitting the ground like a sack of rocks. It all went to shit within seconds and I didn't even get Theon out."
"Perhaps it was for the best." Rodrik sighed. "You traveled across nearly the entire North to get to the Dreadfort. In Theon's condition, do you think he could have made it back?"
Asha glared at her uncle, but knew he was right. That's why she tended to value his advice over her uncle's and even her father's sometimes. He was a realist who didn't put his entire faith in the Drowned God. He was insulted by other ironborn for reading books, but he was undoubtedly the smartest man in the islands.
"Theon's as good as dead now," Asha said finally. "We have no choice but to sail home."
"I'm afraid that's no longer an option," Rodrik said grimly. "Our ships were burned while you were away."
"Burned!" Asha cried. "How?"
"A few brave souls from Bear Island came over and burned all of our ships. Because Theon didn't attack the keep, about forty mormont soldiers came across, killed our guards, and burned the ships."
"So we're stuck here." Asha summarized.
Her uncle nodded. "We're stuck here."
Asha grabbed one of her axes and threw it against the wall.
"Bloody perfect."