Chapter 16: A glimpse of the future
Barbrey Dustin let out a tired groaned and slowly managed to sit up in her bed. She massaged her forehead to alleviate the growing headache she was feeling at the moment.
Last night she had thrown a feast as there was good news to be shared and plans to be discussed. The bastard of Ned Stark and the bastard of Roose Bolton was about to destroy themselves in an epic battle. Whoever emerges the victor of the battle will be terribly undermanned and weak to stand against a Ryswell-Dustin host. Her father had assured her that he could pull the Karstark boy into the alliance. It was largely decided to form a combined host and march on Winterfell to put the wolves and the flayed men out of their misery.
Her father had a granddaughter ready to be married off to Lord Karstark. With the three great houses of the North joining hands, the rest of the houses will be forced to bend the knee, especially after this disastrous war. While this Jon Snow proved to be a miracle worker in the field of battle like his kingly brother, the lad will surely lose the battle when her trap was sprung.
Her troops will be marching today itself straight through the Kingsroad. There was no point in concealing their movements as she doubted the Starks or the Boltons would be expecting an attack. Anyway, she had to see the men off and would have some final words for her Ryswell kin before they departed. With a sigh she reluctantly got out of the bed and unlocked the door—or at least she tried to but to no avail. The stupid door wouldn't open so she banged on the door and called for the guards. She could hear the shuffling of feet and that put her at ease.
"The door has got stuck Loppe. Use force or break it down if you have to." She called out to her usual guard who stood vigil outside her door.
Instead of a response, she heard the locks click and the door swung open with a bang. It was not Loppe that greeted her but Lord Harwood Stout of Goldgrass.
"What is the meaning of this Lord Stout?" she screamed at him in anger at the audacity of the man to show himself into her room without her permission.
For her efforts, she was promptly backhanded and she fell on her back on the floor with shock written across her face. A trail of blood began to flow out of her mouth making her blink back tears at the pain.
"You don't know how long I have been waiting to do that bitch. You prance around this castle bitching about the Starks and your revenge against them ever since the rebellion. You sold out this land to your traitorous brood in Rills and we watched on as you removed loyal men born in these lands to be replaced by spineless wimps from your family. That ends today you bitch. Barrowton will be ruled by house Stout from now on." said Harwood Stout immensely enjoying the shock on her face.
"You can't do this. My father…"
"Your father is a spineless cunt and your precious family have all met their end in the night while you were sleeping. Ramsay Bolton is eager to meet you bitch and it will be my distinct pleasure to deliver you into his hands. If he is done in by the Starks then that's where you will be delivered and I will personally expose your little plan to the wolves. Either way House Stout will rise at your expense bitch." Harwood Stout smirked coldly at her before turning back to the hallway.
"Men take this bitch and tie her to a horse. We ride for Winterfell at a slow pace. At the moment the Starks are winning and by the looks of it, the bastard of Ned Stark is good in the field like King Robb. If we make it before the battle we will strike a deal with the Starks." said Harwood Stout and Barbrey's eyes widened as the traitor's son Ronnel Stout stepped in with a few guards.
Before she could so much as let out a squeak, she was gagged and bound. She was dragged through the castle with many men jeering and making derogatory comments at her. On her way down to the courtyard, she saw a pile of bodies being gathered in one spot with the banners of House Ryswell among them.
"Your nephews, cousins and the men they brought to Barrowton bitch. Take a good look at them cause they won't be getting up ever again." said Ronnel Stout gleefully before shoving her forward and tying her up on a horse.
"We have a long journey ahead of us my lady. The hospitality of House Stout is yours." Ronnel bowed mockingly and left her alone on the horse with a few guards.
She began to think long and hard of her own choices so far.
"Where did it all go wrong?" she mused with sadness and horror at the fate of her kin.
*****
Daeron dismounted his horse after he rode through the open gates of Castle Cerwyn. The smallfolk greeted his arrival with enthusiastic cheering and he suspected it was because of the impending battle for Winterfell. No doubt the poor souls were recipients of the hospitality of Ramsay Snow the last time he was here. Despite their reasons Daeron had to admit there was a certain charm to riding into a cheering crowd. It was certainly a moral amplifier for the men under his command and to a certain extend himself. He handed the reins of his horse to a stable boy who dutifully led the horse away.
"My King." Cley Cerwyn and his sister greeted him.
The Lord of House Cerwyn was only one year younger than Daeron himself and he personally knew the young lordling. They were not friends but they were familiar with each other. The Lord and his sister promptly bend the knee along with Ser Wylis Manderly who had led the charge on the Bolton men. The other Cerwyn men at arms and household followed soon after.
"Rise my lord, my lady. I believe Ser Wylis informed you of certain matters of grave importance." Daeron prodded lightly.
"Of course, your grace. We were informed by Ser Wylis about your campaign and all the other finer details." said Cley Cerwin alluding to Daeron's true identity. "Please accept bread and salt your grace. The hospitality of house Cerwyn is yours."
Daeron and the other Northern lords accepted guest rights and followed lord Cerwyn and his sister into the castle. Soon all the Northern lords were standing around a long table. The Maester of Castle Cerwyn shuffled in with a map which he hastily unravelled.
"Before we discuss our war strategy there are some things left to be done." Said Daeron before he walked around the table and stood before the Glovers. He knew his stare unnerved Robett Glover but he turned his attention to the youngest among them with a flat stare.
"Larence Snow, kneel."
With a healthy dose of confusion the bastard son of Halys Hornwood knelt. Daeron unsheathed Longclaw from his hip and let the flat of the blade touch Larence's shoulder.
"From this day forth you are no longer a bastard. I, Daeron of House Targaryen, Third of my name, King of Andals, Rhoynar and the First Men name you as Larence Hornwood. Rise my lord and serve the Starks of Winterfell as Lord Hornwood till the end of your days."
The former bastard rose with a happy smile and the Glovers were happy as well. The other Northern lords quickly congratulated the new lord. After everyone settled down Daeron strode back but paused before Maege Mormont.
"My lady your brother gave me this sword and charged me to protect the North as best as I can. Since then I have tried to live up to his orders and will continue to do so. But, now that the Second Long Night approaches us this sword must be wielded by its rightful owners." said Daeron, handing over Longclaw to Maege Mormont.
"Your grace perhaps you ought to…"
"I have a sword of my own, my lady." Daeron unsheathed Dark Sister from his back showing the Valyrian Steel sword to the Northern lords. "Dark Sister is in my hands and I would prefer for Bears to have their claws when they are fighting by my side."
"We do have claws your grace but perhaps… Lyra is the only one that uses a sword among us " said Maege as she handed Longclaw to her daughter who happily took the Valyrian steel sword from her mother.
"The pommel still has a wolf on it courtesy of Lord Commander Mormont. Perhaps you ought to change it." suggested Daeron to which Lyra Mormont nodded. He could see the happiness of the Mormonts clear as day to be reunited with their ancestral sword. While he would surely miss wielding the sword it belonged to the Mormonts. The sword has been in their family for generations and it would be disrespectful of him to not return the sword back to its rightful owners.
Daeron stepped back from the Mormonts before he turned his attention to Cley and Jonelle Cerwyn.
"Both of our loved ones have suffered under Ramsay Snow. I promise you that he will not be given any shred of mercy. He will suffer before he joins his traitorous father in the depths of hell."
"We would enjoy any suffering inflicted upon the bastard your grace." Said Jonelle Cerwyn and her brother nodded along in agreement.
"Aye, the bastard has inflicted too much suffering upon the North. He deserves to suffer before he dies." growled Wylis Manderly.
Daeron supposed the Manderlys also had a stake in Ramsay's fate, especially after Lady Hornwood's gruesome murder.
"Too many things have gone wrong in the last few years my lords. A whoremonger king brought death and ruin into the North with his arrival. I had hoped that by taking the Black I would spare the North from the wrath of Robert Baratheon. Looking back on it if I had the chance again I would have stayed in Winterfell and helped Robb. We may have been cousins but Eddard Stark raised me as his own son and Robb always called me brother. I would have been able to help him in any way I could in the war. If it wasn't for a few honourable friends in the Night's Watch I would have ridden day and night to Robb's side after the Lannisters murdered my uncle." The hall was silent listening to Daeron with rapt attention
"I chose my personal honour and duty to the vows I swore at the Wall over my own desire to shove a sword through Joffrey Water's heart. Even when Stannis Baratheon offered to legitimize me and name me Warden of the North I didn't break my vows. I don't regret that as I was able to save the Free Folk from the Night King. I couldn't save as many as I imagined but I tried and succeeded with the minimal resources I had. Then death released me from my vows and here we are. Many here have lost family to the treachery of Boltons and Freys."
There were a lot of muttered curses flying around in the hall.
"The enemies that we face have no shred of honour. They behave like a pack of leeches that suck the realm dry of its lifeblood. Till now we have conducted the war with honour. We have treated our prisoners with honour and fought our battles in the field as true men but no more! When the filthy Lannisters and their vermin lapdogs at the crossing decided to break guest rights the honourable conduct of war was broken. From here on out there will be no shred of mercy for our foes my lords and I intend to start with the Boltons. I will use the same rule of war that Theon Stark waged on Andalos in retaliation for their raids. No quarter will be given and no souls will be spared. I am speaking of total extermination."
His proclamation was greeted with some bloodthirsty smiles and troubled looks from the Northern lords.
"My king, many in the Bolton army are just simple Northmen following orders of their lords. They don't have much of a choice other than to follow the bastard of Dreadfort." said Wylis Manderly cautiously.
"I agree with you, my lord. But I was talking about house Bolton and all the other noble houses that we are going to face in battle in the South. I will of course give some consideration to the Riverlands as they have suffered enough. But I intend to replace the entire noble houses of Westerlands in the coming war. The same can be said for the Ryswells and Dustins in the North."
"The Ryswells are an old family…"
"…that has betrayed the North Lord Glover. Have you forgotten the conspicuous absence of house Ryswell and Dustin forces at the Red Wedding? They were also the first to declare for the Boltons. The King has the right of it to see those traitors brought to heel." said Cley Cerwyn to the assembled lords.
"Aye, lord Cerwyn speaks true. The Ryswells ought to be punished and the Westerlanders as well. But without those noble houses, the lands under their control will fall into disarray, my king. If not them then who will take charge of those lands?" asked Howland Reed which was exactly the kind of question Daeron was hoping someone would raise. With the opening he desired manifesting all on its own he plunged in.
"I was hoping to fill the Westerlands with loyal Northmen and Riverlanders. The Ryswells have also crossed the line with the actions of Barbrey Dustin. Barrowton and the Rills will have new lords in the future." Daeron's suggestion was met with excited murmurs from the lords who were more than happy with the prospect of more lands to their houses.
"My king, that would mean a full campaign against the lords of Westerlands. Even the Conqueror has not done what you are proposing." said Edric Mallister cautiously.
"Indeed and that was the mistake of Aegon I. From Golden Tooth to Crakehall I intend to uproot all the great houses of Westerlands. I do expect the lords of the North to bring forth their cousins and spare sons to my attention. Perhaps I might even do the same to Crownlands. I need good Northmen to bring some much-needed stability in the South."
Daeron noted that many of the Northern lords were more than happy with this proposition. In the end self-interest and greed always brought people to set aside any differences. He did need the lords of the North to commit themselves to his campaign in the South after all. What better incentive was there other than promises of revenge, gold, land and castles?
He would also get familiar faces by his side in the South and for the plans he has in the making for the Seven Kingdoms he needed loyal lords close by. The great houses of the South have to be weakened and if necessary purged root and stem. It was that or a series of rebellions later into his reign and he didn't fancy fighting war after war. Instead, he would fan the flames of destruction in the South and clear the forest for new growth. Even so, exceptions can be made here and there but those would be carefully selected. There was still time gore proper plans to be put in place.
"Now that some of our war aims have been decided we ought to discuss the battle for Winterfell." said Daeron forcing the lords to break away from their discussion and give their attention to the map.
"We have the superior number for sure your grace. Those who have fled Wintertown have joined our host courtesy of Lord Manderly. With Stark forces joining us the army now numbers 6000 strong with 2000 horses and the rest of the infantry. If we wait a week House Tallhart will join us and add another 600 men to our host." said Wylis Manderly.
"We have waited long enough my lords. House Tallhart will have to sit out this battle. If they truly intend to bend the knee and renew their oaths to House Stark then they can reinforce Castle Cerwyn and protect our rear."
"Aye, we have waited long enough. The bastard has to be put down like the mad dog he is." said Lyra Mormont, quite happily holding onto Longclaw by her waist.
"That will come to pass lady Lyra but first Rickon has to be safe before we engage the enemy. I have several plans regarding that and I will enact them when Ramsay uses my cousin as leverage. At this point, that is the only advantage he has over me." Daeron paused before turning to address Robett Glover.
"Lord Glover, you will be commanding the left flank of our army with thousand horses and 2000 men."
"Of course, your grace."
Then he turned to Lord Wylis Manderly.
"Lord Manderly will take command of the right flank with 1500 horses and 2000 men."
Daeron then turned to Edric Mallister and moved closer to the Riverlander knight.
"You have command of 50 horses Ser Edric and you will be at the centre. You are charged with securing Rickon Stark."
"Lord Howland will be in charge of the scouts as we can expect sabotage now that Ramsay would surely know of our position."
"I will immediately scout out Wintertown, your grace. We will have to move through the town and it's a perfect spot for ambushing our army." said Lord Howland making Daeron nod at the Lord of Greywater Watch.
"Your grace, my father will keep us well provisioned through the White Knife and he informs that the men have returned from the Fingers completing their task. " said Wylis
"Good. It seems the Old Gods are smiling upon us with fortune my lords. Let's make sure that the gods Old and New keep that favour for us by destroying the bastard of Dreadfort and returning Winterfell to the Starks. We move in a fortnight, my lords. Winterfell awaits and so does justice and vengeance."
Later that night Daeron was preparing to get some shut-eye but he was rudely interrupted by the consistent knocking on the door to his room which Lord Cerwyn had graciously loaned him. Opening the door he came face to face with Lyra Mormont and two frantic looking guards.
"We tried to stop her your grace but she…she…"
"I threatened to cut their balls off. I need to speak with you, your grace. The matter is most urgent." said Lyra Mormont.
He reluctantly invited her into his room and gave her a chair to sit after he took a seat opposite to her.
"What is this?" Lyra asked as she threw a piece of cloth that Daeron caught in his hands. Looking over it he saw that it was his personal banner.
"This is my personal banner. What's the matter?"
"I feared as much. That will not be your personal banner."
"What?"
"Whoever came up with that I don't want to meet them. I have a better banner for you to use in your campaign."
"What's wrong with this one?" he asked in exasperation.
"If you can't see what's wrong then I truly dread your reign. Use this and burn that abhorrent banner."
With that said, Lyra handed over a banner she made to Daeron. Looking over that banner he furrowed his brows.
"I still think this one is better." said Daeron with a huff even though he reluctantly admitted in his mind that the new banner was better. A black field with a red cross. On each of the quadrants, a white wolf and a three-headed dragon were stitched on alternatively.
"Just admit that this banner is better and use it. I leave the decision in your capable hands Dragon king." Lyra bowed and left him to his own devices.
'Hmm, maybe this one is better.'