Game of Thrones: Paladin of Old Gods - Chapter 131: Family, Duty, Honor.

Chapter 131: Family, Duty, Honor.

Sorry for the delay, dear readers.

I am recently back from 5 hours of unplanned overtime at work…. But I still promised you that the chapter would be out on Tuesday.

It is still 10:55 Pm here at my place, so I am still in the time slot of Tuesday, July 12.

Happy Reading, all of you! And I hope the wait was worth it!

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POV: The Lady of Winterfell

Barrow Hall Entrance.

Year 289, thirtieth day of the twelfth moon. The wedding is one day away.

About an hour after a bard named Abel began singing a new ballad through the streets of Barrowton…

It was almost noon, and the day was glorious. Clear skies with a few small rounded clouds decorating the vast celestial painting. Barrowton reflected such serenity and magnificence.

Catelyn had never visited the town of House Dustin. From what Maester Luwin had explained to her, before the Rebellion, Barrowton may have had ten thousand inhabitants at most…

Too few to be called a town, but also too many for an ordinary village. Yet, from what the Lady of Winterfell could see, the town of the infamous North Widow could far surpass the population of Winter Town.

Sure, thousands of guests had come from all over the streets, but all those new stone dwellings, chiselled into what looked like small earthen bricks, were evidence of the impressive increase in inhabitants.

How many must there have been? Forty? Perhaps sixty thousand? Had Barrowton grown that much in less than a decade? What was certain was that the wooden city walls, which had once been the city’s first and only defence, had been replaced with high walls of solid stone (about 80 feet high and 30 f. thick), equipped with four completed towers (about twenty feet taller) and six more still under construction. Only the east side, covered by a branch of the Salt River, was missing to complete the entire wall. And it seemed that a vast moat was also nearing completion.

There was something familiar about that whole architectural arrangement of the city, but in that brief moment, it didn’t come to mind… Nevertheless, that feeling flowed as Winterfell’s procession passed through one of the city’s massive four gates. Warm and pleasant memories of the past flowed through the no longer young Tully’s mind as she observed the mighty log-thick chains that supported the lowered bridge. Riverrun also possessed such an entrance.

Barrowton had been reborn, and the surface area tripled-and now House Mormont would have control over everything? In less than two days, Jorah Mormont would have access to all the military forces, trade, naval fleets and domains of the Barrowlands. One of the most extensive and fertile lands in the North, tripling the vastness of land holdings compared to House Tully.

‘Maester Luwin’s concerns were well-founded…’ Catelyn thought of the one man of wisdom and knowledge present in Winterfell who seemed to share Lady Stark’s doubts and anxieties.

Catelyn could not speak out against her husband’s ruling decisions, not after Ned had returned to treating her with the respect and dignity that any true Lady of a Protector should have.

She was not quite sure what the Lord of the North had faced in the war expedition against the Greyjoys, but her heart melted when her loving husband apologized for not being more understanding and open with her in recent years.

By now, the tragedies of the past were past and forgotten. Catelyn and Ned would turn a page, continue their journey, and never look back.

The hard compromises and sacrifices Cat had faced in the last five years after ‘the incident’, had finally paid off.

Hoster Tully’s eldest daughter even faced Ned’s choice to promise Sansa to Lord Domeric Bolton with dignity and understanding. She had not been pleased, of course, but she understood him…

Catelyn recalled the excellent impression made on her by that boy of just nine years old, when he came to Winterfell to swear allegiance to her husband, after the tragic death of his father, Roose Bolton.

A sweet, polite, modest, well-educated boy. There were far worse choices in Westeros, particularly in the North…

Before the arrival of the Andals, the Red Kings were the fervent rivals of the Winter Kings. The only kingdom in the North could hold their own against the ancient and powerful Wolf dynasty. House Stark would seal a worthy, necessary, prosperous marriage alliance for their future. But most of all…they would have a valuable and powerful ally at their side against a more than likely future rebellion.

Ned would never listen to her-but; she knew it, she was sure. So soon, the day would come when House Tallhart would turn against the Starks.

Cat sealed these forbidden thoughts in the depths of her heart by not revealing them to anyone, not even Maester Luwin, her most loyal friend and confidant.

But sooner or later, willy-nilly, the Tully of Riverrun would have to intervene for the sake of her family…

The Rains of Castamere were a warning to all the great Houses of the Continent. When a vassal House obtained power, influence and wealth on par with the House to which it had sworn allegiance, soon that House, like House Reyne of Castamere, would rise up… and House Tallhart was already very close to that result.

A short time ago, Maester Luwin explained to her ‘how much’ the influence of Torrhen’s Square was taking root throughout the North, Westeros and Essos.

Catelyn did not sleep there for two nights in a row…

Basically, on any top product consumed or exported in the North, House Tallhart was getting a percentage. So they made their fortune from trading in soap, fertilizer, agricultural implements, alcohol, mining and ships, and on all Northern products!

Paper, salt, glass, horses, carriages, clothes, stoves, ivory products, furniture furnishings, leather, hides, livestock, wheat, barley, fruit, or any other damn product grown with fertilizers and ploughs! She could no longer remember what other products or services were missing from the roll call…

What was worse was that all the nobles from the North or the South with whom Torrhen’s Square had entered into partnership seemed happy to pay their dues…

It was as if they were redeeming a tax on the whole Continent! Only the Old One knew how rich the Tallharts were. And sooner or later, all that power and influence would change hands to that demon-that abomination born of sin. The advocate of all her woes for the past five years.

The one whom all the North considered ‘A Hero’ but only Catelyn knew his true nature…

‘That look… When will that demonic look stop haunting my sleep?’ thought Catelyn with less despair but just as much weariness.

She could take no more; she wanted to try to forget the past and pretend that everything was a figment of her imagination, but she could not.

And how could she succeed? Every damn day, one way or another, Bloody Snow’s name would pop up from some corner.

It was true, throughout his stay in Winterfell, Duncan Tallhart had been impeccable in his manners and in words in the few moments he did not venture into the Wolf Forest with his strange master.

However, those alert and shrewd green eyes, that cold and devilish mind was always working…

What else was he up to? How would Bloody Snow gain more influence and support?

Was he really the one who had forced Ned to host all those Seven Underworld worshippers in Winterfell?

[Beware of those Seven Underworld worshippers, my lady… Certain ‘forbidden customs’ were banned millennia ago from the Continent by the warriors of the Seven. All the tricks they call ‘magic’ are nothing but evil arts that your ancestors fought for millennia. Dark and unnamable Blood Sorcery, milady].

The Lady of Winterfell did not doubt the warning of one of the Citadel’s most trusted and honourable maesters. The voice of wisdom from the man who had birthed her three beautiful children. One of the few minds in Westeros who had among his chain a steel ring of Valyria. Proof that Luwin had studied the high mysteries of the Unknown.

Catelyn shuddered for the umpteenth time as she tried not to look again at the haughty, spoiled, unhinged, and crazy man who called himself King in The Yellow…

When would he and his witch slaves leave? When would those worshipers of abject arts and sacrifices still enjoy Winterfell’s hospitality? The pantries and coffers of House Stark were drying up by feeding those disbelievers from the East with boundless pomp and frivolity.

Another period of her life she would never forget. Magic really existed-this. Even Luwin could no longer deny it. It had been two months in a row that some ‘jester sorcerer’ was about to deliver a magic show at the Winterfell court.

They were not mere conjurer’s tricks, no…

Fire and snow that took on animal and human guises…

Spectacles with puppets of earth and water that came to life…

Candles and floating trays…

That pair of dancers who danced in the air on the roof as if the sky and not the earth attracted them…

The starry ceiling…

Shadows and lights that moved in the most diverse ways…

Sorcerers who vanished from nowhere and reappeared moments later…

They were worshippers of blood and demons–no doubt about it. Catelyn witnessed the scene of two sorcerers engaging in a wager with each other, the loser paying a pair of strange black stones, a vial of blood and a small jar containing an eyeball to the winner! The bargaining chips in that town called Carcosa were blood and organs!

When she revealed this to Ned in their private rooms, he simply let it go, justifying those barbarians with simple excuses such as ‘Cultures and Customs Different from Ours…’

Cat remembered well the day the Carcosa ‘delegation’ (or army) arrived.

Winterfell prepared a welcome that seemed worthy of a royal visit from Aegon the Conqueror himself. And soon after the Leader of Carcosa and the Lord of Winterfell exchanged obsequious and distinguished greetings, the Mad Sorcerer dared to openly denigrate the fortress of House Stark.

[“Not even a Blackstone wall, Wolf King? What about the gate! Why did your ancestors not build it in Weirwood Tree or reinforce it in Valyrian Steel?! Yet, the World Tree Singers gave you permission to tap into the resources of the Trees of Life!”

“One Long Night was not enough for you, by any chance?”

“What about these runes? Look at this rubbish; Winterfell only has Earth, Water and Fire matrices still active?!”] Ned was pilloried by countless other questions he could not answer.

Was Winterfell offering royal hospitality to an army, and was their Lord insulting the honour of House Stark?

And not only that, in the two months that followed, dozens of Sorcerers daubed the walls of House Stark’s mansion with hundreds of circles of blood…

The creepy and rude ‘Chief Sorcerer Supreme’ even dared to pollute their bedroom and that of their children with his demonic rituals!

Cat could not wash away that havoc of black blood on the room’s walls, even trying. It was as if the stone had perpetually absorbed the blood.

She had asked Ned to at least move Robb, Sansa and Arya to other rooms, but he would not let her…

[“The Chief Sorcerer has honoured us with his blessing and protection, Cat. In their lands, it is considered a great honour and privilege. There is no danger…”]

No danger… And meanwhile, the Lord and Lady of Winterfell would be forced to sleep under six eerie circles with a black eye in the centre spying on them day and night… What if it was really Duncan Tallhart who arranged the visit?

Was Bloody Snow studying occult magic? Had he bewitched her with magic five years earlier?

The Lady of Winterfell had secretly sought Luwin’s opinion on the matter and whether all those strange symbols were hidden curses against her household.

[“It is not a possibility to be ruled out, milady…I do not possess the knowledge to identify the nature of such dark magic, but…I know someone at the citadel which would even be able to erase said spells…

I must confess to you, Lady Stark, those disturbing rumours have reached the High Septon and the Starry Temple. The entire Creed of the Seven strongly repudiates the guests of House Stark. To have the Creed against … would be ‘alarming’ to say the least.”] And he was right. Maegor ‘The Cruel’ and Jeahaerys ‘the Conciliator’ taught Westeros that even the Dragon Kings could not bend the Gods…

[“With your permission, my lady, I … here I could enlist the help of very influential figures in the Starry Temple. If the Creed were in part reassured by the support of House Tully, an ancient family that has always been loyal to the cult of the Seven, this might ‘help’ to appease tempers…”] Catelyn gave him her permission while keeping her husband in the dark…

Ned would not understand. Here in the North, the descendants of the First Men worshipped the Old Gods.

After that speech, Cat created dozens of straw and thread idols depicting the Seven. And she would plaster them on every wall of the rooms as soon as their ‘honoured guests’ returned from whence they came.

A familiar boyish voice broke Catelyn’s concentration…

“Wizard Chai! Wizard Chai! More magic, please!” Robb loudly demanded as he sauntered around the King In The Yellow.

“No! What do you take me for, Spoiled Wolf Prince?! For your court jester, perhaps?! And to you, I am always the ‘Great Chief Sorcerer Chai Duq,’ or ‘A-R-C-H Wizard Chai Duq’ at best.”

Why did that fool keep addressing them with appellations such as ‘Wolf King,’ ‘Wolf King Queen,’ or ‘Wolf Prince and Princess’? They were about to join King Robert and the Queen. Such words could have been misconstrued as ‘High Treason’.

“Do you think the spellcasters of the Seventh Circle are everywhere after the Valyria disaster?!

Hey! Don’t you dare crease my robe! Stop pulling on my sleeve at once, young man!” Robb let go of his grip on the golden sleeve but continued to insist, buzzing around him amid complaints and laughter.

“The last magic, I swear! Please, Great Archsorcerer Chief Dug Wizard Chai!”

“Pfft… Ahahah!” Old Zick burst out laughing and added, “Come on, Great Archsorcerer Chief Dug Wizard Chai! Pff… it was amazing. Coff… Your princely host asks you for the ultimate magic.”

“…You are behind all these names and title mistakes, am I right?! Don’t you dare lie to me, Zick! Your hand is behind it!” The Sorcerer pointed his finger at the old Zick.

“Prince Wolf, confess! Did Zick suggest anything to you about it?” Robb betrayed himself by looking for a moment for an answer from the old man, who imperceptibly shook his head.

“Emm… No.” Shamelessly replied her son.

“Liar! Liars and accomplices both!” Ned heard the racket and turned around, scolding Robb.

“Robb, stop inconveniencing our guests and be respectful. Go to your mother’s side and prepare to pay your respects to Lady Barbrey and Lord Jorah.

As for you, Master Zick… please.” Ned sent an implied message to the man as well.

Both Robb and Zick went off in rebuke, lowering their heads.

The Sorcerer gloated childishly as he saw the scene.

Catelyn dared not intrude. Her husband, the Lord, had repeatedly admonished her never to disrespect the strange couple. Except for Zick and Robb, no one in Winterfell ever dared to disrespect the Lord of Carcosa.

All the members of his immense retinue always treated him as if they were addressing the undisputed Emperor of the World, bowing and acting more like humble slaves than servants.

What the prankster Master-at-Arms had to do with all this was still an unsolved mystery to her…

All Cat knew was that Maester Luwin sweated and stiffened like a statue whenever he had the misfortune to meet him… That the old man was also a Sorcerer?

“You promised me a replay of the battle between Balerion and Quicksilver, Oldman, plus a performance of the Black Lion and the Maiden of Light for Jon and me…” Catelyn sensed the reproachful whisper.

“Yes, yes, and you will have them. Trust me, you will have both shows within three days at most. Word of The Watcher.” Robb nodded, eyeing the old man with a final ‘The North Remembers’ admonition, and reached to her right side, taking her hand.

Jon Snow-at least the threat of Eddard Stark’s Bastard seemed to have passed.

Ned began to treat the boy more sternly. Finally, forcing him to study mainly cultures, histories and traditions of all Barbarian Clans present in Westeros…

According to Luwin, the Lord of Winterfell probably wanted to better prepare the boy for a future career in the Night’s Watch. Teaching him from the start all the possible dangers of the enemy he would face, mainly The Wildlings.

Jon was not even allowed to stay in Winterfell during the visit of the Sorcerers of Carcosa. Ned had sent him along with Benjen and the Drunken Knight to visit the Clans of the Mountains. The Starks would not welcome Jon inside Barrow Hall. The symbol of her dishonour would have been well away from the eyes of the Westeros court, remaining segregated in the northern encampments near outside the walls.

Better that way–the Bastard would have done his duty defending the North from marauding Barbarian attacks by relinquishing any possible claim on the Stark domains.

“Robb, Sansa, how will we address Lady Barbrey and Lord Jorah?” asked Cat to her sweet three-year-old daughter and Winterfell’s proud six-year-old heir.

“Thank you, Lady emm…Barbra and Lord…Jorah, for your hospitality.” Attempted the still too young Sansa.

“Thank you, Lady Barbrey and Lord Jorah, for your welcome and hospitality.

Your beauty and splendour, my lady, is even more significant than the magnificence of Barrowton.

I will pray to the Old Gods that, one day, fate may favour me with such a creature blessed by the Gods.

Please, my Lord Jorah, if you know the correct divine invocations or the magic formula to make this happen, I beg you to reveal it to me.” … Catelyn was dumbfounded and somewhat irritated.

The mother was more than sure that neither she nor Ned had ever suggested anything of the sort to their six-year-old son…

“Robb! Who suggested this-this ‘too well-articulated praise for a little lord?'” Her son reacted similarly to the Sorcerer’s accusatory question. He lowered his gaze, his ears flushed, but he did not look around for his accomplice…

“Emm…No one.” Bloody Snow-and who else but him. Duncan Tallhart broke away from the group three days before their arrival.

But Catelyn let it slide; after all, the praise of Lady Barbrey’s beauty played in her and her family’s favour.

“I see… and what is it that you will have to do this evening as soon as the dances open?”

“Phew! I’ll ask ‘Lady Dacey’ if she can give me the honour of the first dance… But mother-”

“No ‘Buts’, Robb. You will behave like a true lord gentleman and bestow on Lord Jorah’s cousin the same well-rehearsed, poetic compliments you bestowed on Lady Barbrey.” Catelyn knew what complaints her little Robb wanted to express:

-But Dacey Mormont is the daughter of ‘the She Bear’!

-She beat the shit out of Smalljon Umber!-

-During the Golden and Silver Snow’s Battle, she killed ten iron men with her bare hands!

Robb was afraid of her. Catelyn could understand that, but her son needed to dance with Dacey that night…

Doubts and questions stormed the mind of the Lady of Winterfell, but then Cat steeled herself and chased away all dark and wavering thoughts.

[“Family, Duty, Honor… Family, first and foremost, my sweet Cat.”] One of her father’s and her uncle’s earliest teachings, which the woman, mother of three beautiful children, repeated to herself every morning before she got out of bed.

‘And soon perhaps a fourth…’ the woman thought, finding her smile as she patted her belly and kept walking, holding little Sansa’s hand with the other.

She had to protect her family no matter the cost, even if it meant failing her duties as Lady of Winterfell or tarnishing the honour of House Stark…

The procession of the North was forced to walk the last quarter mile of Great Barrow Hill. The stables and courtyards of Barrow Hall were apparently overflowing with horses and carriages. A petite escort of attendants and town guards escorted them, apologizing several times for the inconvenience of the final journey. But ‘no one’ seemed to be offended, apparently.

Ned was at the head of the group, wearing his characteristic Wolf fur instead of a cape or cloak.

Only Jory Cassel would be welcomed as a guest guard to the Protector of the North. Unfortunately, Barrow Hall already did not have enough rooms to accommodate all the nobility of Westeros.

The Royal family, the Great Houses, present, Stark, Tully, Arryn, Baratheon, Tyrell, Martell, Lannister and the new protectors of the Iron Isles, the Harlaws, would be welcomed into the rooms of the manor, along with other distinguished guests from Essos, such as ‘The Overlord of Carcosa’.

The other Great Vassal Houses, such as the Northern Lords (except the Mormonts and Ryswells), would be accommodated in appropriate buildings within Barrowton, and all the great retinues, lesser Houses, and knights, in pavilions just outside the walls.

Within minutes Cat would be in the presence of Lady Barbrey Dustin and Lord Jorah Mormont, one of the most influential and wealthiest lords in the North. In Luwin’s estimation, soon, Glass-Mormont would bring more gold and influence to his household than even Salt-Dustin and Alcohol-Umber…

She reworked her ideas for the umpteenth time.

With the marriage of Sansa and Domeric House, Stark would secure the support of House Bolton.

Therefore, in case of open rebellion, House Stark would count on the particular support of Karstark, Bolton, Reed, Magnar, and all the clans of the Mountains.

On the other hand, Torrhen’s Square had House Cerwyn, Hornwood, Glover, and at least the Flint of Widow’s Watch in its grip…

In her opinion, Manderly, Umber, Locke, Flint of Flint Fingers, Ryswell, Dustin and Mormont would have remained neutral. All the last-mentioned houses owed debts of gratitude to both sides…

The hottest point was certainly Ryswell-Dustin-Mormont. Catelyn was well aware that The Widow of Barrowton bore rancour and resentment toward House Stark-Tully.

She was the woman for whom Brandon had abandoned her after plucking her flower…

All the nobles of the North knew this. But now that Lord Jorah would soon assume control of House Dustin’s inheritance, the key to gaining the support of Rills Keep, Barrowton, and Mormont Keep was to gain the latter’s favour.

The Barrowlands could already boast a military force on par with Torrhen’s Square.

Neither Catelyn nor Luwin knew exactly with which other Southern Houses the Tallharts had forged ties. However, if the rumours of a possible marriage between Eddara Tallhart and Lancel Lannister were true, the Starks would have been in big trouble.

Ned would not have been able to count on the Crown’s support. At best, King Robert would have chosen neutrality lest he is forced to march against the Queen’s family, or his dear childhood friend. Had Jon Arryn (currently 71) survived the fateful day of the probable rebellion, her sister Lysa and the Knights of the Vale could not have helped her…

But there was still the Trident.

Mallisters, Mootons, Darrys, Vances, Wents, Pypers, Rygers, Brakens and Blackwoods were vassal houses extremely loyal to her father, Hoster Tully…

‘Walder Frey ‘The Late Lord’ would certainly abstain should Tywin Lannister choose to support the Tallharts… Unless…’ Catelyn turned her head toward the wet nurse carrying little Arya.

Relations between the North and the Twin Towers were not the rosiest. The Freys felt insulted by so many Northern Houses who kept rejecting their marriage offers. But, unpleasant as it was, the House of Frey was the second richest and most powerful in the Trident lands.

Walder Frey was a renowned marriage hunter. He had an army of children and grandchildren to settle.

‘No, first Sansa, and maybe Robb… I can’t give up my little Arya already… Besides, Ned would never agree. So should I suggest to my father a possible marriage between Edmure and one of Lord Walder’s daughters? But would he agree?’ Catelyn wondered doubtfully.

But of one thing, she was sure. Unless the Seven Kingdoms sought a large-scale civil war, the conflict between the Starks and Tallhart had to remain confined to the North…

The Starks had to curry favour with the Mormonts. In this way, a rebellion could even have been avoided. The demon Tallhart would not make impulsive moves against Winterfell as long as the influence and power of House Stark outweighed Torrhen’s Square.

Sealing the alliance in blood and marriage with the Mormonts was necessary for the good of her family…

Jorah’s seed was of uncertain fertility. After three painful miscarriages with Lady Gibsy Glover, there was a real possibility that not even Lady Barbrey would ever give birth to an heir, and no man willing to leave the nuptial thalamus alive to produce a male would ever marry the fierce, brutal, very unattractive, and near-menopausal Maege Mormont, the ‘She-Bear’.

Therefore, the key to gaining the support of nearly half of the best heavy and light cavalry in the North, the infinite resources of the Barrowlands, and the impressive new Mormont Military Fleet was…

‘Dacey Mormont… The first legitimate daughter of Maege Mormont, the Heir of Bear Island and next Heir of the Barrowlands.’

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End Chapter.

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