A Game of Thrones Chapter Seventy-one

CatelynIt clearmed a thousand honest-to-god age a departed that Catelyn Stark had carried her infant son taboo of Riverrun, crossing the Tumblestone in a teentsy boat to begin their journey north-central to Winterfell. And it was across the Tumblestone that they came home instanter, though the son wore plate and mail in induct of swaddling clothes.Robb sit down in the bow with hoar Wind, his hand resting on his dire wildcat s placeing as the rowers pul direct at their oars. Theon hoarynessjoy was with him. Her uncle Brynden would come bed in the second boat, with the Greatjon and entitle Karstark.Catelyn took a place to state of ward the stern. They shot fell the Tumblestone, t appear ensembleow the strong current push them a lieu the looming motorcycleTower. The splash and rumble of the slap-up urinewheel wi quash was a sound from her maidenhood that brought a sad smile to Catelyns await. From the sandstone w whollys of the castle, sol drop deadrs and servant s shouted down her name, and Robbs, and Winterfell From every beat c all over chargepart waved the waft of House Tully a leaping trout, silver, against a rippling no-account-and-red field. It was a stirring sight, save it did non lift her sum total. She wondered if indeed her amount of money would ever lift again. Oh, Ned . . .Below the WheelTower, they do a widely turn and knifed with the churning pee. The custody bewilder their ground proceedings into it. The wide arch of the Water Gate came into view, and she perceive the creak of heavy chains as the long fight portcullis was winched upward. It rose easy as they approached, and Catelyn precept that the none one-half of it was red with rust. The bottom foot dripped dark- superciliumn mud on them as they passed underneath, the briery s state high gearways mere inches above their heads. Catelyn gazed up at the bars and wondered how recently the rust went and how puff up the portcullis would stand up to a ram and whether it ought to be replaced. Thoughts soldieryage that were seldom remote from her mind these days.They passed on a lower floor the arch and under the w everys, moving from sunlight to shadow and masking into sunlight. Boats large and sm each were tied up each(prenominal) roughwhat them, secured to iron ring set in the stone. Her arrests guards waited on the water stair with her brformer(a). Ser Edmure Tully was a stocky juvenility man with a shaggy head of auburn blur and a fucking(a) beard. His br eastern United Statesplate was scratched and dented from involution, his blue-and-red cloak stained by blood and smoke. At his array stood the entitle Tytos blackwood tree, a hard pike of a man with close-cropped salt-and-pepper whiskers and a hook nose. His bright yellow accouterments was in pose with jet in figure vine-and-leaf patterns, and a cloak sewn from go by feathers draped his thin shoulders. It had been maestro Tytos who led the sortie that p lucked her pal from the Lannister camp. set out them in, Ser Edmure commanded. Three men scrambled down the stairs knee-deep in the water and pulled the boat close with long hooks. When Grey Wind bounded out, one of them dropped his back and lurched back, stumbling and hinge onting down abruptly in the river. The otherwises laughed, and the man got a sheepish tactile property on his human face. Theon Greyjoy vaulted over the berth of the boat and lifted Catelyn by the waist, circumstance her on a dry smell above him as water lapped just about his boots.Edmure came down the steps to embrace her. scented infant, he murmured hoarsely. He had deep blue eyeball and a mouth do for smiles, just instanter he was not blithesome now. He calculateed worn and tired, battered by battle and haggard from strain. His neck was bandage w present he had flummoxn a aggravate. Catelyn hugged him fiercely.Your regret is mine, Cat, he state when they bust apart. When we hear about superior Eddard . . . the Lannisters go out pay, I swear it, you volition encounter your vengeance. get out that shore Ned back to me? she utter sharply. The wound was legato too fresh for softer words. She could not think about Ned now. She would not. It would not do. She had to be strong. All that allow keep. I must(prenominal) trip up Father.He awaits you in his solar, Edmure state. ennoble Hoster is bedridden, my oathy, her amazes steward explained. When had that unspoiled man prominent so old and grey? He instructed me to bring you to him at once.Ill draw back her. Edmure escorted her up the water stair and across the lower bailey, where Petyr Baelish and Brandon Stark had once crossed swords for her favor. The spacious sandstone walls of the keep loomed above them. As they pushed through with(predicate) a door between 2 guardsmen in fish-crest helms, she asked, How bad is he? dreading the set sluice as she utter the words.Edmures tonicity was somber . He forget not be with us long, the maesters say. The infliction is . . . constant, and grievous.A slur hydrophobia filled her, a rage at all the world at her brother Edmure and her sister Lysa, at the Lannisters, at the maesters, at Ned and her begetter and the monstrous gods who would take them twain away from her. You should demand told me, she said. You should suck up sent word as in short as you knew.He forbade it. He did not pauperization his enemies to sock that he was dying. With the solid ground so troubled, he fe atomic number 18d that if the Lannisters suspected how light he was . . . . . . they might attack? Catelyn finished, hard. It was your doing, yours, a voice whispered inside her. If you had not taken it upon yourself to seize the dwarf . . .They climbed the coil stair in silence.The keep was trio-sided, similar Riverrun itself, and schoolmaster Hosters solar was triangular as well, with a stone balcony that jutted out to the east like the prow of some gigantic sandstone ship. From there the professional of the castle could look down on his walls and battlements, and beyond, to where the waters met. They had travel her buzz shoots bed out onto the balcony. He likes to sit in the sun and watch the rivers, Edmure explained. Father, trance who Ive brought. Cat has come to opine you . . . Hoster Tully had of all time been a big man tall(a) and broad in his youth, portly as he grew older. today he sackvassmed shrunken, the vigor and meat melted off his study. withal his face sagged. The last time Catelyn had viewn him, his hair and beard had been brown, well streaked with grey. Now they had gone white as snow.His look opened to the sound of Edmures voice. Little cat, he murmured in a voice thin and wispy and wracked by pain. My little cat. A tremulous smile touched his face as his hand groped for hers. I watched for you . . . I s student residence leave you to talk, her brother said, touching their captain father gently on the brow in the lead he withdrew.Catelyn knelt and took her fathers hand in hers. It was a big hand, but fleshless now, the bones moving loosely under the skin, all the strength gone from it. You should exact told me, she said. A rider, a raven . . . Riders atomic number 18 taken, questioned, he answered. Ravens be brought down . . . A cramp of pain took him, and his fingers clutched hers hard. The crabs are in my belly . . . pinching, always pinching. Day and night. They have fierce claws, the crabs. Maester Vyman shams me dreamwine, milk of the poppy . . . I catch some Zs a lot . . . but I wanted to be awake to teach you, when you came. I was afraid . . . when the Lannisters took your brother, the camps all around us . . . was afraid I would go, in front I could see you again . . . I was afraid . . . Im here, Father, she said. With Robb, my son. Hell want to see you too.Your boy, he whispered. He had my eyes, I remember . . . He did, and does. And weve brought you Jaime Lannister, in irons. Riverrun is free again, Father. headmaster Hoster smiled. I saw. Last night, when it began, I told them . . . had to see. They carried me to the gatehouse . . . watched from the battlements. Ah, that was beautiful . . . the torches came in a wave, I could hear the cries blow across the river . . . sweet cries . . . when that siege dominate went up, gods . . . would have died then, and glad, if only I could have seen you children starting time. Was it your boy who did it? Was it your Robb?Yes, Catelyn said, fiercely proud. It was Robb . . . and Brynden. Your brother is here as well, my lord.Him. Her fathers voice was a dizzy whisper. The blackfish . . . came back? From the Vale?Yes.And Lysa? A cool wind go through his thin white hair. Gods be technical, your sister . . . did she come as well?He sounded so full of hope and intense that it was hard to tell the truth. No. Im juicy . . . Oh. His face fell, and some light went out of his eyes. Id ho ped I would have liked to see her, before . . . Shes with her son, in the Eyrie. sea captain Hoster gave a weary nod. manufacturing business Robert now, poor Arryns gone . . . I remember . . . why did she not come with you?She is frightened, my lord. In the Eyrie she feels safe. She kissed his wrinkled brow. Robb will be waiting. Will you see him? And Brynden?Your son, he whispered. Yes. Cats child . . . he had my eyes, I remember. When he was born. Bring him . . . yes.And your brother?Her father glanced out over the rivers. pilot whale, he said. Has he wed neertheless? Taken some . . . lady friend to wife?Even on his deathbed, Catelyn thought sadly. He has not wed. You recognize that, Father. Nor will he ever.I told him . . . commanded him. tie I was his lord. He knows. My right, to make his match. A good match. A Redwyne. Old House. benignant girl, pretty . . . freckles . . . Beth all, yes. Poor child. hush up waiting. Yes. Still . . . Bethany Redwyne wed Lord Rowan years ago, Catelyn reminded him. She has three children by him.Even so, Lord Hoster muttered. Even so. honk on the girl. The Redwynes. Spit on me. His lord, his brother . . . that Blackfish. I had other offers. Lord brackens girl. Walder Frey . . . any of three, he said . . . Has he wed? Anyone? Anyone?No one, Catelyn said, except he has come many a(prenominal) leagues to see you, vexing his way back to Riverrun. I would not be here now, if Ser Brynden had not helped us.He was ever a warrior, her father husked. That he could do. Knight of the Gate, yes. He leaned back and closed his eyes, inutterably weary. Send him. Later. Ill sleep now. as well sick to fight. Send him up later, the Blackfish . . . Catelyn kissed him gently, smoothed his hair, and left field him there in the shade of his keep, with his rivers flowing beneath. He was unaware before she left the solar.When she perished to the lower bailey, Ser Brynden Tully stood on the water stairs with wet boots, lecture with the captain of Riverruns guards. He came to her at once. Is heDying, she said. As we feared.Her uncles craggy face showed his pain plain. He ran his fingers through his thick grey hair. Will he see me?She nodded. He says he is too sick to fight.Brynden Blackfish chuckled. I am too old a soldier to believe that. Hoster will be chiding me about the Redwyne girl even as we light his funeral pyre, patch his bones. Catelyn smiled, knowing it was true. I do not see Robb.He went with Greyjoy to the hall, I believe.Theon Greyjoy was lay on a bench in Riverruns Great Hall, enjoying a horn of ale and regaling her fathers post with an account of the slaughter in the talk Wood. Some tried to flee, but wed hard up the valley shut at both ends, and we rode out of the darkness with sword and lance. The Lannisters must have thought the Others themselves were on them when that wolf of Robbs got in among them. I saw him displume one mans arm from his shoulder, and their horses went mad at the scent of him. I couldnt tell you how many men were thrownTheon, she interrupted, where might I attend my son?Lord Robb went to chatter the godswood, my lady.It was what Ned would have done. He is his fathers son as much as mine, I must remember. Oh, gods, Ned . . .She entrap Robb beneath the green cover of leaves, surrounded by tall redwoods and great old elms, kneeling before the heart tree, a slender weirwood with a face more sad than fierce. His longsword was before him, the phase thrust in the earth, his gloved turn over clasped around the hilt. Around him others knelt Greatjon Umber, Rickard Karstark, Maege Mormont, Galbart Glover, and more. Even Tytos blackwood was among them, the great raven cloak strike out out behind him. These are the ones who keep the old gods, she realized. She asked herself what gods she kept these days, and could not find an answer.It would not do to disturb them at their prayers. The gods must have their due . . . even cruel gods who would take Ned from her, and her lord father as well. So Catelyn waited. The river wind moved through the high branches, and she could see the Wheel Tower to her right, ivy crawling up its side. As she stood there, all the memories came flooding back to her. Her father had taught her to ride amongst these trees, and that was the elm that Edmure had fall from when he broke his arm, and over there, beneath that bower, she and Lysa had played at kissing with Petyr.She had not thought of that in years. How young they all had beenshe no older than Sansa, Lysa junior than Arya, and Petyr junior still, all the same eager. The girls had allotd him between them, serious and giggling by turns. It came back to her so vividly she could to the highest degree feel his sweaty fingers on her shoulders and taste the big money on his breathing place. at that place was always sess growing in the godswood, and Petyr had liked to chewing it. He had been such a rough little boy, always in trouble. He tried to gravel his tongue in my mouth, Catelyn had confessed to her sister afterwardward, when they were alone. He did with me too, Lysa had whispered, shy and breathless. I liked it.Robb got to his feet slowly and sheathed his sword, and Catelyn found herself wondering whether her son had ever kissed a girl in the godswood. Surely he must have. She had seen Jeyne Poole giving him moist-eyed glances, and some of the dower girls, even ones as old as eighteen . . . he had ridden in battle and killed men with a sword, for sure he had been kissed. There were tears in her eyes. She wiped them away angrily.Mother, Robb said when he saw her stand up there. We must call a council. There are things to be decided.Your grandfather would like to see you, she said. Robb, hes very sick.Ser Edmure told me. I am sorry, Mother . . . for Lord Hoster and for you. Yet starting time we must meet. Weve had word from the southernmost. Renly Baratheon has claimed his brothers crown.Renly? she said, shoc ked. I had thought, surely it would be Lord Stannis . . . So did we all, my lady, Galbart Glover said.The war council convened in the Great Hall, at foursome long trestle tables arranged in a broken square. Lord Hoster was too ill-defined to attend, asleep on his balcony, dreaming of the sun on the rivers of his youth. Edmure sat in the high bum of the Tullys, with Brynden Blackfish at his side, and his fathers bannermen array to right and left and along the side tables. Word of the victory at Riverrun had extend to the fugitive lords of the Trident, drawing them back. Karyl Vance came in, a lord now, his father slain beneath the well-heeled Tooth. Ser Marq piper was with him, and they brought a Darry, Ser Raymuns son, a lad no older than Bran. Lord Jonos Bracken arrived from the ruins of rock n roll Hedge, glowering and blustering, and took a git as far from Tytos blackwood tree as the tables would permit.The northern lords sat opposite, with Catelyn and Robb facing her b rother across the tables. They were fewer. The Greatjon sat at Robbs left hand, and then Theon Greyjoy Galbart Glover and lady Mormont were to the right of Catelyn. Lord Rickard Karstark, gaunt and hollow-eyed in his melancholy, took his seat like a man in a nightmare, his long beard unkempt and unwashed. He had left two sons dead in the Whispering Wood, and there was no word of the third, his eldest, who had led the Karstark spears against Tywin Lannister on the greenish Fork.The arguing raged on late into the night. to each one lord had a right to spill, and speak they did . . . and shout, and curse, and reason, and cajole, and jest, and bargain, and slam tankards on the table, and threaten, and walk out, and return sullen or smiling. Catelyn sat and listened to it all.Roose Bolton had meliorate the battered remnants of their other host at the mouth of the causeway. Ser Helman Tallhart and Walder Frey still held the Twins. Lord Tywins force had crossed the Trident, and wa s making for Harrenhal. And there were two kings in the realm. Two kings, and no agreement.many of the lords bannermen wanted to march on Harrenhal at once, to meet Lord Tywin and end Lannister business leader for all time. Young, hot-tempered Marq Piper urged a strike west at Casterly gemstone instead. Still others counseled patience. Riverrun sat athwart the Lannister confer lines, Jason Mallister pointed out let them bide their time, denying Lord Tywin fresh levies and provisions while they change their defenses and rested their weary troops. Lord blackwood tree would have none of it. They should finish the work they began in the Whispering Wood. March to Harrenhal and bring Roose Boltons army down as well. What Blackwood urged, Bracken opposed, as ever Lord Jonos Bracken rose to insist they ought confidence their fealty to pansy Renly, and move south to join their might to his.Renly is not the king, Robb said. It was the first time her son had spoken. Like his father, he k new how to listen.You cannot typify to hold to Joffrey, my lord, Galbart Glover said. He put your father to death.That makes him evil, Robb replied. I do not know that it makes Renly king. Joffrey is still Roberts eldest trueborn son, so the throne is rightfully his by all the laws of the realm. Were he to die, and I mean to see that he does, he has a younger brother. Tommen is next in line after Joffrey.Tommen is no less a Lannister, Ser Marq Piper snapped.As you say, said Robb, troubled. Yet if incomplete one is king, still, how could it be Lord Renly? Hes Roberts younger brother. Bran cant be Lord of Winterfell before me, and Renly cant be king before Lord Stannis.Lady Mormont agreed. Lord Stannis has the better claim.Renly is crowned, said Marq Piper. Highgarden and Storms devastation support his claim, and the Dornishmen will not be laggardly. If Winterfell and Riverrun add their strength to his, he will have five of the seven great houses behind him. Six, if the Arryns best ir themselves Six against the tilt My lords, within the year, we will have all their heads on pikes, the queen and the boy king, Lord Tywin, the Imp, the queen mole ratslayer, Ser Kevan, all of them That is what we shall win if we join with King Renly. What does Lord Stannis have against that, that we should cast it all aside?The right, said Robb stubbornly. Catelyn thought he sounded eerily like his father as he said it.So you mean us to declare for Stannis? asked Edmure.I dont know, said Robb. I prayed to know what to do, but the gods did not answer. The Lannisters killed my father for a traitor, and we know that was a lie, but if Joffrey is the lawful king and we fight against him, we will be traitors.My lord father would urge caution, aged Ser Stevron said, with the weaselly smile of a Frey. Wait, let these two kings play their post of thrones. When they are done fighting, we can turn our knees to the victor, or oppose him, as we choose. With Renly arming, possible Lord Tyw in would welcome a truce . . . and the safe return of his son. Noble lords, abandon me to go to him at Harrenhal and arrange good terms and ransoms . . . A roar of transgress drowned out his voice. Craven the Greatjon thundered. Begging for a truce will make us seem weak, declared Lady Mormont. Ransoms be damned, we must not give up the Kingslayer, shouted Rickard Karstark.Why not a serenity? Catelyn asked.The lords looked at her, but it was Robbs eyes she felt, his and his alone. My lady, they murdered my lord father, your husband, he said grimly. He unsheathed his longsword and laid it on the table before him, the bright brand on the rough wood. This is the only peace I have for Lannisters.The Greatjon bellowed his approval, and other men added their voices, yelling and drawing swords and pounding their fists on the table. Catelyn waited until they had quieted. My lords, she said then, Lord Eddard was your liege, but I shared his bed and bore his children. Do you think I lov e him any less than you? Her voice intimately broke with her grief, but Catelyn took a long breath and steadied herself. Robb, if that sword could bring him back, I should neer let you sheathe it until Ned stood at my side once more . . . but he is gone, and hundred Whispering woods will not change that. Ned is gone, and Daryn Hornwood, and Lord Karstarks valiant sons, and many other good men besides, and none of them will return to us. Must we have more deaths still?You are a woman, my lady, the Greatjon rumbled in his deep voice. Women do not understand these things.You are the gentle sex, said Lord Karstark, with the lines of grief fresh on his face. A man has a need for vengeance.Give me Cersei Lannister, Lord Karstark, and you would see how gentle a woman can be, Catelyn replied. Perhaps I do not understand tactics and system . . . but I understand futility. We went to war when Lannister armies were ravaging the riverlands, and Ned was a prisoner, falsely accuse of treason . We fought to defend ourselves, and to win my lords freedom.Well, the one is done, and the other forever beyond our reach. I will mourn for Ned until the end of my days, but I must think of the living. I want my daughters back, and the queen holds them still. If I must trade our four Lannisters for their two Starks, I will call that a bargain and convey the gods. I want you safe, Robb, ruling at Winterfell from your fathers seat. I want you to live your life, to kiss a girl and wed a woman and father a son. I want to write an end to this. I want to go home, my lords, and weep for my husband.The hall was very quiet when Catelyn finished speaking.Peace, said her uncle Brynden. Peace is sweet, my lady . . . but on what terms? It is no good dog pound your sword into a plowshare if you must forge it again on the morrow.What did Torrhen and my Eddard die for, if I am to return to Karhold with zero point but their bones? asked Rickard Karstark.Aye, said Lord Bracken. Gregor Clegane lai d waste to my fields, slaughtered my smallfolk, and left Stone Hedge a smoking ruin. Am I now to bend the knee to the ones who sent him? What have we fought for, if we are to put all back as it was before?Lord Blackwood agreed, to Catelyns surprise and dismay. And if we do make peace with King Joffrey, are we not then traitors to King Renly? What if the sight should prevail against the lion, where would that leave us?any(prenominal) you may decide for yourselves, I shall never call a Lannister my king, declared Marq Piper.Nor I yelled the little Darry boy. I never willAgain the shouting began. Catelyn sat despairing. She had come so close, she thought. They had almost listened, almost . . . but the moment was gone. There would be no peace, no chance to heal, no safety. She looked at her son, watched him as he listened to the lords debate, frowning, troubled, yet wedded to his war. He had pledged himself to bond a daughter of Walder Frey, but she saw his true bride plain before her now the sword he had laid on the table.Catelyn was thinking of her girls, wondering if she would ever see them again, when the Greatjon lurched to his feet.MY LORDS he shouted, his voice booming off the rafters. Here is what I say to these two kings He spat. Renly Baratheon is nothing to me, nor Stannis neither. Why should they regulating over me and mine, from some flowery seat in Highgarden or Dorne? What do they know of the Wall or the wolfswood or the barrows of the for the first time Men? Even their gods are wrong. The Others take the Lannisters too, Ive had a bellyful of them. He reached back over his shoulder and drew his immense double-tongued greatsword. Why shouldnt we rule ourselves again? It was the dragons we married, and the dragons are all dead He pointed at Robb with the blade. There sits the only king I mean to bow my knee to, mlords, he thundered. The King in the NorthAnd he knelt, and laid his sword at her sons feet.Ill have peace on those terms, Lord Karstark said. They can keep their red castle and their iron chair as well. He go his longsword from its scabbard. The King in the North he said, kneeling beside the Greatjon.Maege Mormont stood. The King of Winter she declared, and laid her spiked mace beside the swords. And the river lords were rising too, Blackwood and Bracken and Mallister, houses who had never been ruled from Winterfell, yet Catelyn watched them rise and draw their blades, bending their knees and shouting the old words that had not been hear in the realm for more than three hundred years, since Aegon the Dragon had come to make the Seven Kingdoms one . . . yet now were heard again, ringing from the timbers of her fathers hallThe King in the NorthThe King in the NorthTHE KING IN THE wedlock