Torrhen rubbed the sweat off his father's face with a warm wet cloth has he opened his eyes.
"Father," Torrhen said as he stood over Ned.
"Torrhen… how … how long?" Ned asked.
"Six days and seven nights." Torrhen took a cup filled with water and bought it to Ned's lips. "Drink some water, father. You must be thirsty."
Ned drank. Vayon Poole stepped forward. "The King left orders," he said when the cup was empty. "He would speak with you, my lord."
"On the morrow," Ned said. "When I am stronger."
"My lord," Poole said, "he commanded us to send you to him the moment you opened your eyes."
"Father has just woken up," Torrhen said, "and he needs to rest. The King can come here if he wants to see my lord father, Poole. And could you send for Cleyton."
"It has been six days," Ned said. "I must know how things stand."
"Things are a mess father," Torrhen said. "The Kingslayer has fled the city. The talk is he has ridden to Casterly Rock to join his father. The story of how mother took the Tyrion is on every lip, and I took precautions to ensure that they also know of Tyrion's involvement in pushing Bran from the Tower. I had the Hand's tower closed off, and I have added some of my men so that the tower is guarded at all times. I didn't want take any chances, not since the Kingslayer ambushed us in the streets."
"The girls?"
"They have been there with you every day, father," Torrhen said. "Sansa prays quietly, but Arya has not said a word since we came back. I have never seen such anger in her before. I thought to send them home, but I didn't want to make any decisions until you were awake."
"Whatever happens," Ned said, "I want your sisters kept safe. I fear this is only the beginning."
"No harm will come to them as long as I am here, father."
"Jory, Winter and the others…"
"Heward's dead. Jory and Wyl are alive but they both have suffered injuries in the fight." Winter barked and licked Ned's face. Torrhen pulled him back and rubbed his head. "As you can see, Winter is okay. He did take a few blows but he is fine and back to his old self.
"And there is something else you must know," Torrhen said. "The Queen claims that we attacked her brother Jaimie and murdered the red cloaks on the streets. And she is demanding the King that we pay for what we did. I doubt the King believes that but only one of our men is dead while none of the men Jaime sent after us live."
Torrhen looked away from his father. "I was enraged that they were going to kill Winter. I was not thinking straight, I … killed everyone still left alive after Cleyton came with the guards. And now the Queen is claiming that Winter and I have turned rabid and wants his skin along with mine."
"Robert will not do anything to you or Winter."
"I know he was your friend, father. But he is not the same man now. He didn't send men after Jamie to bring him to justice and I am sure that he has heard of what Tyrion did to Bran. And what does he do? Nothing. If he tries to hurt Winter, I won't hesitate to strike back, father."
Vayon Poole returned. The steward bowed low. "His Grace is without, my lord, and the queen with him."
Torrhen helped Ned as he pushed himself up higher, wincing as his leg trembled with pain. "Send them in," Ned said, "and leave us. What we have to say should not go beyond these walls." Poole withdrew quietly.
Robert had taken time to dress. He wore a black velvet doublet with the crowned stag of Baratheon worked upon the breast in golden thread, and a golden mantle with a cloak of black and gold squares. A flagon of wine was in his hand, his face already flushed from drink. Cersei Lannister entered behind him, a jeweled tiara in her hair.
Torrhen went to stand beside the window over looking the courtyard below, defiantly not bowing or acknowledging their presence. Winter sat near the end of the bed.
"Your Grace," Ned said. "Your pardons. I cannot rise."
"No matter," the king said gruffly. He looked at Torrhen and the wolf once, then back to Ned without a word to Torrhen. "Some wine? From the Arbor. A good vintage."
The Queen was seething at Torrhen and Winter.
"A small cup," Ned said.
"A man in your place should count himself fortunate that his head is still on his shoulders," the queen declared turning to Ned.
"Quiet, woman," Robert snapped. He brought Ned a cup of wine. "Does the leg still pain you?
"Some," Ned said.
"Pycelle was not allowed into the tower," Robert frowned. "I take it you know what Catelyn and your son has done?"
"I do." Ned took a small swallow of wine. "My lady wife is blameless, Your Grace. All she did she did at my command."
"I am not pleased, Ned," Robert grumbled.
"By what right do you dare lay hands on my blood?" Cersei demanded. "Who do you think you are?"
"The Hand of the King," Ned told her with icy courtesy. "Charged by your own lord husband to keep the king's peace and enforce the king's justice."
"You were the Hand," Cersei began, "but now—"
"Silence!" the king roared. "You asked him a question and he answered it." Cersei subsided, cold with anger, and Robert turned back to Ned. "Keep the king's peace, you say. Is this how you keep my peace, Ned? Twenty-one men are dead …"
"Mauled to death by his rabid wolf," the queen corrected. "And injured men beheaded by your son in cold blood."
"Abductions on the kingsroad, wild wolves rampaging and drunken slaughter in my streets," the king said. "I will not have it, Ned."
"Catelyn had good reason for taking the Imp—"
"I said, I will not have it! To hell with her reasons. You will command her to release the dwarf at once, and you will make your peace with Jaime."
"One of my men was butchered before my eyes, because Jaime Lannister wished to chasten me. Had it not been for my son and his wolf, more of my men and Winter would be dead. Am I to forget that?"
"My brother was not the cause of this quarrel," Cersei told the king. "Lord Stark and his son were returning drunk from a brothel. His son and the wild rabid beast attacked Jaime and his guards, even as his wife attacked Tyrion on the kingsroad."
"Winter's not rabid," Torrhen said. "Your brother ambushed us. And any man that comes to hurt my family will end up dead. The only reason your brother is still alive is because he ran away."
The Queen looked like she would burst from rage.
"You know me better than that, Robert," Ned said. "Ask Lord Baelish if you doubt me. He was there."
"I've talked to Littlefinger," Robert said. "He claims he rode off to bring the gold cloaks before the fighting began, but he admits you were returning from some whorehouse."
"Some whorehouse? Damn your eyes, Robert, I went there to have a look at your daughter! Her mother has named her Barra. She looks like that first girl you fathered, when we were boys together in the Vale." Torrhen watched the queen as his father spoke; her face was a mask, still and pale, betraying nothing. It was a good thing that Barra and her mother had left Kingslanding already.
Robert flushed. "Barra," he grumbled. "Is that supposed to please me? Damn the girl. I thought she had more sense."
"She cannot be more than fifteen, and a whore, and you thought she had sense?" Ned said, incredulous. "The fool child is in love with you, Robert."
The king glanced at Cersei. "This is no fit subject for the queen's ears."
"Her Grace will have no liking for anything I have to say," Ned replied. "I am told the Kingslayer has fled the city. Give me leave to bring him back to justice."
The king swirled the wine in his cup, brooding. He took a swallow. "No," he said. "I want no more of this. Jaime slew one of your men, and you all twenty of his. Now it ends."
"Is that your notion of justice?" Ned flared. "If so, I am pleased that I am no longer your Hand."
The queen looked to her husband. "If any man had dared speak to a Targaryen as he has spoken to you—"
"Do you take me for Aerys?" Robert interrupted.
"I took you for a king. Jaime and Tyrion are your own brothers, by all the laws of marriage and the bonds we share. The Starks have driven off the one and seized the other. This man and his son dishonor you with every breath they take, and yet you stand there meekly, asking if his leg pains him and would he like some wine."
Robert's face was dark with anger. "How many times must I tell you to hold your tongue, woman?"
Cersei's face was a study in contempt. "What a jape the gods have made of us two," she said. "By all rights, you ought to be in skirts and me in mail."
Purple with rage, the king lashed out, a vicious backhand blow to the side of the head. Torrhen took a step forward and Winter was on his four legs. She stumbled against the table and fell hard, yet Cersei Lannister did not cry out. Her slender fingers brushed her cheek, where the pale smooth skin was already reddening. On the morrow the bruise would cover half her face. "I shall wear this as a badge of honor," she announced.
"Wear it in silence, or I'll honor you again," Robert vowed. He shouted for a guard. Ser Meryn Trant stepped into the room, tall and somber in his white armor. "The queen is tired. See her to her bedchamber."
Torrhen exchanged a look with his father as he approached the Queen and held out a hand to her. "Let me escort you to your chambers." He thought that she would refuse to take it, but a moment later she took his hand and let him lead her out. Winter followed in their heels making sure that Ser Meryn Trant kept his distance.
"He should not have done that," Torrhen said, after they had left the Hand's tower and walked towards the Queen's chambers.
Cersei said nothing. She did not shed a single tear.
"This was not the first time was it," Torrhen said. He grasped her hand in a firm comforting manner.
"He has hit me before," Cersei admitted.
"One can get to know a man's worth in the manner he treats his wife. Father used to tell me tales of Robert, and I have heard many stories of bravery and courage of King Robert during the rebellion from the lips of others. I didn't expect this from such a man. Still, had I been in your brother's position, I would have slain him the first time he had hit you if it had happened to my sister."
"Jamie knew nothing of this," Cersei said, angrily. "Robert didn't dare hurt me on my face before. Jamie would have slain him in rage if he knew Robert hurt me."
"I would do anything to keep my family safe too," Torrhen said. "You don't know the extent I will go to protecting my family. And that includes my wolves too."
"Why are you telling me this?" Cersei said as they reached her chambers.
"I don't like the betrothal between my sister Sansa and your Joffrey. I have heard some concerning things regarding the behavior of your son. I can't do anything to change it but he is still young, so he can learn. Teach your son some manners and how to treat women, because if he turns out anything like his father I will cut his head off."
Cersei stopped in her steps and turned to watch him. "You dare threaten the life of my son."
"Yes. If you don't think he can behave in a manner befitting a King, then cancel the betrothal. I will not stand back meekly as my sister gets hurt like you." He bought his hand to the cheek where Robert had hit her. "And make sure that you press a warm cloth to the bruise."