The mountain clans of the North did not live in castles like the other lords of the North. There were no stone walls or keeps. Instead, the clans lived in ringforts just like the First Men used to. A wall of spiked logs encircling a great hall and other, smaller buildings. Two men stood guard at the gate to the fort, each armed with stout, iron-tipped spears and hide-covered shields. Their armor consisted of thick furs and leathers. Because of their size and the amount of hair that covered them, both animals and their own, they looked rather beastly.
"What is this place?" Arya whispered to her father.
"Bucketon." Ned replied easily with a slight smile on his face. "The sigil of the Wulls are three buckets on a blue field. Their ancestors were quite literal."
"How many mountain clans are there?" Arya asked.
Ned thought for a moment before answering. "About forty of them. All spread out through the mountains and along the Bay of Ice."
"Do you think they'll help us?" Arya asked as soon as Ned finished his answer.
Ned gazed at his daughter. "Do you think we'd be here if I didn't?"
Arya didn't answer, just shaking her head. She didn't ask anymore questions.
One of the fur-clad men stepped forward, lowering his spear. He looked like the typical clansmen with a bushy beard, wild hair pulled into a greasy braid, and a stomach that showed his fondness for ale.
"What's yer business?" He growled.
"I've come to see the Wull." Ned said firmly. In typical First Man fashion, Ned simply referred to Hugo Wull by his last name. The mountain clans called Ned 'The Ned', not 'Lord Stark'.
"Why?" The man barked.
"I am the Ned, the Stark of Winterfell." Ned answered with a more authoritative tone. "I have come to call upon the Wull and the men of his clan."
The guardsman looked a little taken back before gesturing for his companion to go get their chieftain. Ned remained where he was, completely at ease. He knew without looking that Arya was trying to look the same.
There was some commotion from behind the main gate before the guard re-appeared, a large-bellied man right behind him.
Hugo Wull was exactly as Ned remembered him. Tall, with thickly muscled arms and shoulders, his massive gut bulging under his broad belt. He wore chainmail armor and had a fur cloak draped across his shoulders. He held a double-bladed battle-axe in one hand. He had an annoyed look on his face that vanished as soon as he caught sight of Ned.
"The Ned!" He boomed, tossing his axe to one of the guards and clasping arms with the Lord of Winterfell. "You're supposed to be dead, you bugger!"
Ned chuckled, sliding down from the saddle. When he had two feet on the ground, the clansman swept him off his feet with a bearhug, driving the wind from his lungs before he was eventually let down.
"It's been a long time Hugo." Ned said quietly, trying to catch his breath.
The big man nodded. "Too long. How are you not dead? We heard you were dead?"
"It was a lie by the Lannisters." Ned explained before gesturing to Arya. "This is my daughter, Arya."
Hugo nodded respectfully to her. "Welcome, Arya of Winterfell."
Arya could only nod back, her eyes slightly wide.
Hugo turned his gaze on Syrio Forel, who was watching the encounter with an amused look.
"Who the blazes are you?"
Ned smiled. The mountain clans had a very blunt manner, which always amused Ned and horrified Cat whenever they attended festivals and feasts at Winterfell.
Syrio bowed gracefully. "I am Syrio Forel, former First Sword of Braavos."
Hugo looked extremely confused, but before he could ask another question, Ned interrupted.
"Hugo, do you know what's happening in the North?" He asked.
The clansman nodded seriously. "Boltons are oathbreakers," he growled. "The Leech Lord sent us a rider a few moons ago. I sent him the head back without the tongue. We do not take orders from traitors."
Ned nodded. "My son Jon leads the rest of the northern lords west to free the Hawkers. The Company of the Rose, northmen who went into hiding when the last Stark king knelt, is with him."
Hugo nodded. "That is good."
"I mean to rally the clansmen and march with my son on the Dreadfort." Ned finished. "Will you join me?"
Hugo smiled fiercely, clasping arms once again with the Lord of Winterfell. "We will answer the call, Ned of Winterfell."
That night, Hugo Wull held a modest feast to celebrate Ned not being dead and returning the Company of the Rose home to the North. No northern lord in his right mind would ever hold a feast like they do in the south with winter just a few months away, but Ned still appreciated the sentiment behind it. It was made even more special by the fact that the mountain clans were some of the poorest lords under Ned's governance. They were using precious supplies in his honor.
Before the feast, Hugo sent riders to the nearest clans with orders for them to assemble their warriors and rally to Bucketon. The northern clans had a good system in place where, if riders were sent to the nearest clans to prepare for war, then that message would be spread to other clans by more riders. It was a giant web-like network that allowed the more barbaric-clansmen to assemble with relative quickness.
Now, Ned sat at Wull's right hand in the place of honor, Arya and Syrio to his right. They feasted on roasted goat with wild vegetables and fresh bread.
And ale, of course.
"Hugo, why didn't you go with Robb south?" Ned asked quietly as they ate.
The large man shook his head. "We were told we were not needed," he answered with a shrug. "Rider said that there would be no war. He was wrong."
Ned raised an eyebrow. He would have imagined that Robb would have called upon every warrior in the North, then again, he probably thought that there wasn't time to get the clansmen together. Which isn't true. It'll take a few days before most of the clansmen assemble at Bucketon. They know secret paths through the mountains and are very rough-and-ready soldiers who are able to move with deceptive speed.
"Did any clansmen go south?" Ned asked.
Hugo nodded. "Owen Norrey rode with Robb of Winterfell. No others."
Ned nodded. "I'm sure my son appreciated it."
"What happened to you?" Hugo asked, practically barking the question as he ripped into the leg of a goat. "You were dead?"
"I was saved by the men of the Company of the Rose." Ned answered. "The group was formed by second and third sons, or cousins, by Torrhen Stark in case the North was attacked by the Targaryens. They've remained across the Narrow Sea all these years and have returned because Robb has been named king."
"Are there any Wulls?" Hugo asked.
Ned nodded. "I think so."
"Who leads them?" Wull asked. "The lost northmen?"
"A cousin of mine." Ned answered. "Derren Stark."
Hugo nodded. "When the Boltons are killed. What will happen to the new northmen?"
Ned shrugged. "There are a few long lost families among them. Ryders, Greystarks, Redstarks, Greenwoods, and others. I'll find them castles close to their original holdings. Umbers, Manderlys, and Mormonts and the rest will return to their homes."
Hugo grunted. "Smart."
Ned made sure he ate enough food. He didn't want to insult the people of Bucketon by not eating enough food. They would take it as an insult if he barely ate. The last thing Ned wanted was a bunch of drunk half-giants chasing him down with various roasted meats or battle axes.
"The girl." Hugo said suddenly. "She looks like your sister."
Ned nodded, his mind flooded with memories of his late sister as they always were when she was brought up. The bloody sheets. The smell of death and flowers. The faint cry of a baby.
"She does." Ned answered quietly. "Syrio Forel is training her to fight."
"With what? A bow? Knife?" Hugo asked.
"Sword." Arya answered bluntly.
Hugo chuckled. "This one has the wolf blood."
"What?" Arya asked, looking at her father.
"It's a term in our family." Ned explained, ruffling Arya's hair. "You have the wildness of a wolf inside you. My sister and older brother had it."
"Oh." Arya said quietly. "Who else has it."
"Just you, little one." Ned laughed. "The gods blessed me with just one wild child. My father got the short end of the stick and got two."
"Where is your son now?" Hugo asked, changing the subject.
"Robb or Jon?" Ned asked.
"The king in the North?" Hugo clarified.
Ned shook his head. "I'm unsure. Hopefully, he's marching on King's Landing to finish off the Lannisters once and for all."
"Will he stay in the south?"
Ned went to answer, then stopped. "I am unsure. Something to decide later."
Hugo shrugged. "Best decide soon. One of you is needed up here and another down there." The giant clansman shook his head. "Southerners are fucked if both of you come back."