Ned had always thought that the Dreadfort was a god-awful place to live. The land around it was mostly barren, save for a farmstead or a desolate village that was dotted around. The depressing surroundings only served to make the black castle even more sinister looking, and the bloody history of House Bolton was just the finishing feature. The castle radiated darkness and evil.
Just the castle that fit the man in front of Ned.
Roose hadn't changed much since he and Ned had last spoken. He still had those pale, ghost-colored eyes that usually expressed a cold cunning. Now they expressed nothing cool, calm hatred for Ned and every man and woman behind him. Roose knew that his chance at ruling the North was coming to an end, and now both he and Ned were on the same path that would lead to the same bloody conclusion.
Behind the Leech Lord were the rest of his conspirators. Ludd Whitehill, who looked paler than Roose and his eyes fearfully flickered between Ned, Jon, and his former peers. Arnolf Karstark gazed at his nephew Rickard, and looked like he wanted to shrink into the nearest hole and hide. Steelshanks, Roose's captain, was at the back of the group and his face was like a slab of stone; emotionless.
The only person who didn't look a bit fearful was the younger man. Big-boned and ugly, he had a half sneer, half smirk on his face. Ned could only compare the man to one other. The Mad King.
"Lord Stark." Roose said.
"Roose." Ned replied.
Ned was watching the man closely, and it looked as if Roose barely felt the thinly-veiled insult. It seemed he didn't care anymore. Everyone at the meeting knew what the end would be.
The only question was: When would it happen?
"I will give you one chance." Ned continued. "Lay down your arms, surrender your castle. Your men can go free. The men behind you will have two choices: The Wall or death."
Roose returned the threat with a small smile. "We refuse your generous offer."
Ned shrugged. "So be it. We will take the castle with force, and there will no longer be an option when we do. You all will die."
"You have to take the castle first." the younger man snarled.
Ned regarded the man with a cold glare. "I'm taking the castle, boy. Make no mistake about it."
"You're Bolton's bastard." Greatjon growled. "You raided my lands."
"Not that there was much on it." the bastard snapped. "Though the women there put up quite the challenge."
The giant lord began to move forward, his hand going to his massive sword, but Jon cut him off, maneuvering his horse in front of the Greatjon, giving him a look. The lord of Last Hearth glared and growled, but returned to his spot next to Maege and Rickard. Jon urged his mount forward till he was side by side with his father.
"Why?" he asked, looking at Roose. "Ser Brynden sent you north to defeat the ironborn. You could have been a war hero and now you'll die a traitor."
Roose shrugged. "Because Robb Stark was leading you all to ruin, and you blindly follow the pup because he's a Stark." the man known as the Leech Lord sneered, the hate in his voice obvious. "We all know what happens when Starks go south. They don't usually return."
"Robb's not my brother." Ned said. "I didn't take you for a fool, Roose. Though, it seems like power can make any man such."
"Or the promise of power." Jon agreed. "He never had the power he was promised."
"If you came here to insult me, you waste my time." Roose scowled. "And think carefully about trying to take the castle, Stark. Don't forget who's inside. Our blades are sharp."
If Roose expected Ned to be angry, then he would be disappointed. Ned knew that Roose would hold his wife against him. He was well aware of the actions Roose would take now that he had no power and no longer held any sort of morals. Ned would not stoop to his level, but if he thought that Ned would be limited by his own code of honor, then he would be sorely disappointed. House Bolton had risen up against the Starks other times in the past.
This would be the last time.
"Winter is coming, Roose, but you won't be around to see it." Ned said, turning his mount around and riding away.
Line Break
"Are you worried about Lady Catelyn?" Jon asked curiously. He and his father were alone in the command tent.
They had held a brief council of war, with Jon handing over the leadership role to his father, and all that was talked about was preparations for sieging the castle. Rams and ladders needed to be built. Lord Hawker was put in charge of camp defenses. Small details that Ned was better suited to issue out. Jon had done well with the siege of Moat Cailin, but he had the advantage of fighting a sick, starving, depleted enemy and the crannogmen.
Against an experienced commander like Roose, who had a strong host and plenty of supplies, Ned was better suited to lead the siege and Jon seemed to have no problem handing over control of the army to his father.
"Of course I am." Ned answered. "I've been worried about you all ever since I woke up in Braavos. Of course, Sansa and Cat have been at the forefront of my mind as the war has played out."
"How do you plan to save her?" Jon asked.
Ned glanced out the tent towards the castle in the distance. "There's a plan in place. I just need to give it time to work."
"How much time is that?"
"A few days, hopefully." Ned sighed. "If it isn't possible, then this siege will be longer than any of us want it to be."
"Because we need to starve out the Boltons." Jon said. "That or wait for one of Roose's men to make a mistake."
"If there were any with Roose that would make one, it would be his bastard." Ned said, unable to shake that sinister, homicidal look that the young man had. "He reminds me of Aerys."
"The Mad King?" Jon asked before considering the comparison. "Can't say I disagree. Greatjon mentioned, back in Riverrun when we first got word that the ironborn had attacked, that Roose's bastard had committed some acts."
Ned nodded. "Aye, there were rumors that he had been the one to murder Domeric Bolton, Roose's trueborn son. There were also more….sadistic rumors around the boy. I didn't have a chance to look further into the rumors before Robert arrived in Winterfell." Ned sighed. "Perhaps I should have."
"What would you have done?" Jon asked suddenly.
Ned looked at him curiously. "Pardon?"
"If King Robert had found out about who I was?" Jon hesitated. "What I am."
Ned thought for a moment before answering. "Jon, ever since I rode away from that blasted tower with you in my arms, I have been looking over my shoulder, dreading the moment that Robert learned about how your parents are. As the years went by, I never spoke about your mother or what happened at the tower. Not even when I was battling a fever from the corruption in my leg, the healer for the Company of the Rose said that I mentioned my sister, but not the promise I made to her." Ned crossed his arms, feeling much older than his thirty and seven namedays. "I feared every day that Robert would find out and march north to try to harm you. I wasn't sure how he would view you. As Lyanna's son, or as Rhaegar's. It pains me to say it, but the one good thing to come out of Robert's death is that you are safer because of it."
Jon didn't say anything, allowing Ned to work his way up to an answer.
"What I'm saying is that….if Robert had marched north with an army at his back to take you, then I would have met him at Moat Cailin with the might of the North." Ned said finally, a slight growl in his throat. "Robert was my brother in all but blood, but you Jon, are my blood. And Robert nor anyone else would have taken you from me. Not without walking over my corpse to do it."
Ned turned as he heard boots outside the tent, abruptly ending his and Jon's conversation. The flap opened to reveal Howland, his face hidden in the depths of his hood. Behind him were two other men, dressed in a similar fashion. Green cloaks, bronze scale armor, multiple hidden blades coated with some lethal poison.
"What have you found?" Ned asked, easily dropping the topic he had just been on.
"It's possible." Howland sighed, removing his hood. "It'll be tough, but it's possible."
"What do you need?" Ned asked.
"A distraction." Howland answered. "A bloody big one. Roose has four thousand soldiers swarming the place. You need to draw as many as you can out."
"How can we do that?" Jon asked.
"By throwing all we have at the walls." Ned answered. "Normally, we would attack at multiple different points, spread out the defenders. If we want to draw all defenders to one place, we attack the main gate and the walls around it. That's all we attack."
"That'll get a lot of men killed." Jon said."
Ned nodded. "Aye, it will, but it'll bring every man in the castle to one area. Most likely, Roose will use the fact that we are attacking in a confined space against us and will likely try to bottleneck us."
"And this is so Howland and his men can get into the castle and save Lady Catelyn." Jon said, more as a statement than a question.
Howland nodded. "Exactly."
"What if we build extra ladders and hide them behind the castle." Jon said, pointing to the spot where Howland and his men were most likely to sneak in. "The Company of the Rose has to be at Deepwood Motte by now. If we time our attack right, they could arrive and assault the castle from that spot."
"It would also provide protection for Cat as well." Howland added.
Ned stared at the map, envisioning the plan in his head. He wasn't sure how fast the company would be able to reach the Dreadfort. Maybe a few days for the cavalry. But a thousand battle-hardened sellswords might be exactly what Ned needed. As for the ladders, they could easily be hidden in the snow during the night.
"Our timing needs to be perfect." Ned said finally. "We also need to be on the lookout for Roose's bastard. He's unpredictable."
"Leave that to me, father." Jon said, his tone of voice showing his confidence. "He burned Winterfell. I'll make him pay for that."
Ned searched for any traces of doubt in his son's eyes, but found none. Jon meant what he said. He would deal with whatever the bastard threw at the northern army, and he wouldn't allow it to affect the army in any way.
"Very well." Ned said finally. "You'll have a thousand horse. Take Eyan Hawker as your second."
Jon bowed slightly and left, leaving Howland and Ned alone. The lord of Greywater Watch turned to his men, who simply nodded and left as well. The crannogmen were completely loyal to the wiry lord, and nearly as deadly. Many in the North and much of Westeros called them 'bog devils', and they were closer to the truth than they thought. The warriors of the Neck were perhaps the deadliest Ned had under his command. Deadshots with bows, skilled with knives and poisons, and had an uncanny ability to always take advantage of the surrounding landscape. They were able to adapt and respond to any scenario in mere moments.
They weren't great front line fighters, but they were skilled in ways that other men simply weren't. That's what made them invaluable.
"You were right." Ned said quietly, gazing out the tent at the castle. "I should have told Jon long ago."
Howland shrugged. "He knows now. That's all that matters."
The two men stood in silence for a while before Ned glanced at his longtime friend. "When did you tell the maester at Castle Black?"
"When you told me that the boy wanted to join the Night's Watch." Howland answered. "If you're wondering if I knew about the valyrian steel sword that he gave Jon, I didn't, not until I saw it on him when I stopped him and his friend of the Kingsroad."
"It's with Robb now." Ned said. "I'll admit, it makes me feel a little better knowing that two of my sons have swords capable of cutting through steel like knives through parchment."
"And from what I've heard, they know how to wield them." Howland grunted. "Soon, Ned, you'll be reunited with Cat and then you can ride south and see Robb. Your family will be together again soon."
"You sound sure of that." Ned said, gazing at his friend, who met his gaze unwaveringly.
"Ned, If I can't get Cat out of there, I'm gonna die trying." Howland said with a completely straight face. "That you can be sure of."