It took a while but Bran awakened. A letter from Winterfell a while back said so. However, it also said my brother would not walk again.
At least Lord Reed had accepted to send his son, Jojen to Winterfell. The details were a bit murky but I think Meera, Lord Reed's daughter, is also staying at Winterfell.
For my part, I sent him a copy of the book with stories I've been working on, Gods know a boy who used to dream of knights would appreciate a little literary escapism.
Also the Moat hosted another noble while I was out.
This time however I didn't mind as much not seeing this guest.
Tyrion Lannister had passed through the Moat on his way South. Hatten met him and said he was a 'funny little fella' and that he could outlast the most drunkard of the guards.
Quite the achievement if you ask me, moreso if you take into account the Imp's weight class.
I stifled a sigh and returned to the present.
Apparently, waiting for the first yield of the rice paddies wasn't necessary for other houses to ask about them.
But contrary to my expectations the Blackmyres and Boggs dug their own canals and also setted up rice paddies, the only issue they had, were the seeds.
House Reed had all the seeds for the first phase of the rice program but nobody had expected to get other Lords to adopt rice farming this easy, sadly, the White Harbor shipment was delayed. And so the Blackmyres and Boggs had the paddies but not the seeds and they made sure to let me know.
"Master Blackmyre, I can assure you, the seeds are on their way, the ca-."
"They better be, boy! We, the Blackmyres, put a lot of good work on those fields."
Not this shit again.
"You will refer to me by title or by title and name, not 'boy'. Respect begets respect, Master Blackmyre." I gave him a pointed look.
He huffed but nodded in the end.
It is always like this with lords, always trying to pull one over you. I have to demand respect or they will give none.
"And as I was saying, your esteemed house time and work won't go to waste, it's just a small delay with the seeds, Master Blackmyre," I barreled before he could whine some more. "As it was established when we were setting up the deal, the rice seeds are scarce as of right now, but the guarantees promised by houses Stark and Reed stand. Your house is receiving shipments of grain and potatoes as compensation for the delay."
"That better be bo-. Lord Castellan, or else you'll be hearing of me and mine."
Lord Blackmyre left my office after that. And I couldn't shake the feeling that this, all of this could have been a raven.
But, once again, Lords gonna lord.
One of the weird aspects of Westeros that made a delay of a few moons on farming not as catastrophic was the weird static Seasons this place had. Summers that lasted years, followed by years-long Winter.
It was still early in the afternoon and I was preparing to hit the training yard when a servant knocked the door.
"Enter."
In came an old man, he bowed stiffly and presented me a letter. "Milord, Maester Lagg received this letter with the Stark seal. He said to come immediately."
Lagg was the acolyte in charge of the ravenry at the Moat. Once a second son of a sheepherder, he learned his letters remarkably fast under Hatten's tutoring, due to his talent on these matters I sponsored his studies on the Citadel on ravenry and economics. It was expensive but now the Moat has an unambiguously loyal raven handler.
"You have my thanks good man. You are dismissed."
The man gave another stiff bow and left.
I opened the letter thinking it was some normal matter. I read the thing and… shit.
Later in the meeting room I had summoned my Four Heavenly Generals. Except of course none of them were generals, or heavenly, or four. There were six people in the room.
Hatten, my right hand man. Ryk, Hatten's right hand man, tho I think I could call him my left hand man by now. Amanda, head of the Moat's servants. Garth, the master-at-arms. And Lagg, raven handler and professional copper-counter.
"I just received a letter from Winterfell," I looked around to make sure everyone was with me. "It said two things. First, we will be receiving two hundred archers from Tallhart and Glover lands, they will be stationed here until further notice. And Second, to improve the Moat's defenses."
Once again I looked around to see their reactions. I couldn't discern much, except for…
"Hatten, how are our larders? I expect the men the Tallharts and Glovers send, will come with their own supplies but you know what I say…"
"Better safe than sorry. Yes Lord Castellan, currently our larders will hold but will dwindle for an eventual Winter. I'll check the harvest reports and slowly cut our food exports."
"See it done." I turn my head to Lagg. "How are our coffers, can we afford to keep our current projects and still reinforce the Moat?"
"What does reinforcing the Moat entails?"
"Ahh, you are right. I mean at least two towers for the southern walls and stocking up our arsenal of arrows."
"Don't neglect the armor and weapons, lads," said Garth.
I nodded and we all waited for Lagg to finish scanning his files for his answer.
Meanwhile I think we can move on something else.
"I may have overlooked something about our defenses, anything we should be worried about?"
"Yes, there's something. We have to fully wall the Moat's steelworks," said Garth.
"But… the wall surrounds it."
"Not from the river."
"But who would attack from the river Garth?" I admit Theon is not my favorite person to be around but "Balon Greyjoy wouldn't dare to attack the North, his son is House Stark's hostage."
"I can't trust an Ironborn Oath lad. I was there with Lord Stark when he put down the Greyjoy rebellion. When Balon was asked his reasons to rebel, he said he never swore fealty to King Robert."
I was about to put down the idea, nobody can be that optimistic to double down after horribly losing in their first rebellion, but before I could speak, Amanda started to talk.
"Lagg, how much would it add to our current budget to raise a river wall for the Moat's steelworks?"
"It wouldn't be prohibitively expensive, our coffers can easily take the hit lady Amanda," said the half-maester after writing on his notebook.
"What about the materials and men needed, Hatten?" Amanda pressed.
"Most of the construction workers are currently close, finishing the road to the Moat. As for materials, well the Moat's steelworks is able to produce bricks, and the quickstone can be easily moved through our new roads."
Were they together on this? Was this a conspiracy?
Well, I still think that this project is unnecessary, but since adding a river wall wouldn't derail other projects by much and it would calm my paranoid companions…
"Alright, fine. We will built a wall on the river side of the Moat's steelworks."
Almost everyone gave sharp nods. Either they really thought the Ironborn were inevitably going to attack (I highly doubt it) or they all were going to embezzle the shit out of that wall.
I still couldn't understand it well, but… I looked at the only other person who seemed as lost as I was feeling. Ryk gave me a shrug, I returned it.
Que será será. I guess.
Now then, "Ryk, any idea why would my brother ask us to better our defenses?"
Ever since that night in the King's feast, when I asked him to 'keep an eye out', Ryk had started giving us reports about our neighbors movements and rumors. As a matter of fact, he was the one to inform me in advance of the visit of houses Blackmyre and Bogg.
"There were raids in the western parts of the Riverlands, Lord Castellan. Other than that, there's rumors of some Westerosi lord or lords contacting sellswords from Essos."
That's weird. Why would any lord contract sellswords? Are they expecting some major conflict? Is Robb expecting something similar?
We didn't had the whole picture and if he knew, I doubt Robb wouldn't have told me.
All that was left, was to do what we could with the information available.
"Ryk, try and find whatever is happening in the Riverlands. Something weird is happening."
He bowed and was about to leave, but I needed to talk about another point in this meeting.
"Amanda, will we need more servants?"
"No my lord, Garth will-."
"I'm no lord Amanda," I interrupted.
She rolled her eyes, "As I was saying, Lord Castellan, Garth will have some of the guards help on cleaning and serving duties."
"I will?" Garth asked and turned to Amanda.
"You will," she simply said.
Garth blinked owlishly and shrugged, "Yah, I guess that makes sense."
Nobody reacted.
Huh, I guess that's it then.
"Well then, meeting's over. Get back to work."
There was this phrase I heard once: "There are weeks where decades happen."
That describes what I'm feeling right about now holding a letter from Robb, from the Stark at Winterfell, asking, demanding to prepare for war.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
Father had been imprisoned under charges of treason.
King Robert was death, and the lions claim Lord Eddard Stark wanted to usurp his best friend's children.
The sheer gall to claim Father could commit treason, leaves it clear for all that these fuckers will not listen to law or reason, therefore calling the banners is the only way I can see we can force them to understand.
And to add to the whole pile of shit, Ryk says there are rumours of Lady Catelyn holding Tyrion Lannister. What was Lady Stark doing south? How did she even end up with the Imp?
Robb's letter also says that Sansa asked for peace.
I'm sure Robb is just as angered as I am.
These lion-fucks are pressuring little Sansa to call for peace? Robb will march South like the Winter Kings of old and we will free them.
It took long minutes for my anger to abate enough to make me functional.
I got up and personally sent a rider to inform the Moat's steelworks to stop every secondary work and focus on half plates and weapons.
Then, I called a meeting. The Moat was going South in force.
A few days passed of me burning in anger when Lord Reed arrived at the Moat.
"I heard the North is marching South once again," he said instead of a greeting at the gates.
"We are Lord Reed," there was not much else to say.
"The North remembers Jon, and we remember Ned, a lot."
I had to clench my jaws when he said that.
"It shames me, but I'm not fit to command my host, any host really. The last war left me… wrong."
What is he trying to say?
I turned to him before he continued. "That is why, I'm giving you command of the Neck's host marching South," before I could refute him, he continued. "My heir is still naive to the ways of Southron men and my son is still too young to lead."
Lord Reed patted me in the shoulder and kept going, "The crannogmen who work here at the Moat tell tales about a fair and competent man leading it. Besides," he said while looking at the horizon. "the Neck's host isn't large, Lord Robb tasked us with protecting the Neck after all."
When I realized what he was asking, I kneeled and said, "You honor me Lord Reed, I won't disappoint you."
"Get up Jon, I'm not some stuffy lord," he said with a smirk. "Besides I know you won't disappoint me, your brother or your father."
We talked some more in my office, about food, weapons and war. About ambushes and guerrilla warfare, but also about Father and his own march South, about how Lord Reed met him and also about the dead.
The simmering hot rage in my stomach cooled down a little and Lord Reed picked up on it.
"It's normal to feel enraged when injustice has been done to you and yours Jon, don't let it control you, always be in control of that fire of yours."
I nodded. He seemed content with that.
"Now then, you'll have to excuse me for not staying the night, but you know how it is, letters to write, orders to make," he said, as if making a jape only he could understand. "The crannogmen will come to the Moat in the next few days Jon, they will come with their own supplies but I ask you to spare them some armor and weapons."
"It will be done, my lord."
We walked our way to the Moat's East gate, there, Howland Reed stopped.
"I heard you like reading Jon," he pulled a small book from under his cloak. "This, is a gift I should have given you sooner, but as you are fond to say 'better late than never' right?"
"Thank you Lord Reed," I said while picking up the book from his hands.
"Take care Jon, the Seven Kingdoms need more men like you and your brothers alive," he said while looking at the horizon, and left.
It was around a fortnight since Howland Reed's visit and now I was in the Moat's courtyard, waiting for Robb and the Northern host.
The hot coals of rage hadn't left me, but as Lord Reed instructed, I tried to not let them rule me. So I threw myself to training whenever I was free, be it with my halberd or with a sword. Ghost also helped calming me, but there were times where all I wanted was to tore everything south the bogs down.
I sighed and tried to control my breath, Ghost nudged me and I started petting him.
At eight and a half moons old, my direwolf was above my knees in height and still growing. My red-eyed friend still had a taste for chicken and he wouldn't let me forget it.
I couldn't help but remember the time when we found the litter of direwolves. Robb found six pups right beside their dead mother and even then my albino friend didn't like being cradled in my brother's hands, evident by all his growling, he only calmed down once he found himself in my arms.
Robb ended up calling his direwolf Grey Wind because the pup ran really fast, I named mine Ghost because it felt right.
While petting Ghost, a howl was heard and Ghost instantly went off to meet his litter mate. I, on the other hand, had to keep decorum and wait for Robb's arrival.
It took a few minutes until my brother swung himself off his horse in front of me.
"Moat Cailin is yours my lord," I kneeled.
Robb pulled me up with a hand and we hugged. I could feel him trembling, barely holding himself together.
It was then that it hit me, he's just a teen, even younger than Father when he raised his banners for Robert. Hells, he is even younger than me when I finished highschool, and now he had the obligation to march south with an army at his back.
"We'll get them back Robb, we'll bring them home to Winterfell. No matter what."
"Aye, we will."
I then greeted my brother's vassals and tasked the Moat's men to guide them to their accommodations.
Umbers and Karstarks refused to be in the apartments and went on to take two of the Moat's old towers.
I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes.
Once the most pressing matters were dealt with, I found my brother in the courtyard.
"Let's talk in my office," I said to him.
"Let's," Grey Wind followed and so did Ghost.
There were other developments since the death of King Robert and the unjust imprisonment of Father.
For once the raiding in the Western Riverlands, it wasn't confirmed but everyone knew it was Tywin Lannister's doing, and if the rumours about Tyrion's arrest were true, then it all but confirmed the Warden of the West's responsibility. It was about the time I met Lord Reed when the war proper started in the Riverlands, Jaime Lannister destroyed the army of the Riverlords at the foothills of the Golden Tooth and Tywin was marching up from the south with a large army. We would be waiting at most three or four days for the Manderly levies to march south to face them in battle.
Right now in my office however, something mattered more.
"How are you holding up?" I asked Robb.
He let out a sigh and melted on his chair.
"It's a fucking mess, the lords… gods Jon, I now know why you don't want a name. Some are trying to win my favor, some are throwing their daughters at me and others, others outright scare me."
"And yet, they march with you."
"And yet, they do."
"There's something else Robb, there are sayings of Lady Stark capturing Tyrion," I cautiously asked my brother.
He sighed, "I know just as much as you do Jon. Last raven I received from my mother, was moons ago detailing the instructions left by Father. The last thing I knew of her, was that she was at the Eyrie with her sister Lysa Arryn.
"Other than that, my mother left Winterfell looking for answers after the attempt on Bran's life. I believe that she may have found evidence connecting Tyrion with that, so I think it possible she somehow got a hold of him."
No real confirmation then, only speculation. Tywin's early raids, the Westerlands armies and the admitted possibility of Lady Catelyn capturing Tyrion made it all but confirmed. Robb being careful with his language, makes me think that he also believes the rumours, but Lady Catelyn is his mother afterall.
For a while, only the crackling of the hearth could be heard.
"We have some advantages Robb. The North produces more steel than rest of the Seven Kingdoms combined, hell I doubt even the Three Daughters compare, our levies are if not armored at least well armed, man by man, we are better, also never before in the North's history did we have our granaries as full as we do now." I bent on my chair and locked eyes with him. "Back in Robert's rebellion, the Northern levies weren't half as powerful as they are today, and even then, Father smashed his way to King's Landing, and let's not forget, he didn't have a handsome bastard brother at his side to help him."
"You are an idiot," said my dumb brother with the ghost of a smile.
"Oi Stark, don't slander me, every word I spoke is true. I'm the wisest most smartest and most handsome bastard to ever live," I could see a little color return to his semblance. "Had Father had a bastard brother of my quality at his side, Essos would pray to the Old Gods by now," I finished by pounding a fist to my chest.
He snickered at that.
"Yes, of course Lord Most Smartest. By the time we are over, Essos will tremble at the mention of the Bastard of Winterfell." Robb said.
"The warriors will cry and the maidens will swoon whenever they hear the name Robb Stark the… uhm… Wolf… or something." I finished lamely.
Robb finally laughed, clear and boyish, just as I remembered him.
"You are so dumb Snow."
"Shadup! It's not my fault you don't have a badass nickname yet."
My brother chuckled before saying, "Aye, I guess it's time I get a badass nickname too."
So we stayed like that, talking like two dumb boys back in Winterfell under the Godswood. Going away to imaginary worlds where everything was possible, maybe deluding ourselves into thinking that everything will be alright, that we would all be together in Winterfell once again.
It was about time for supper once we left the office, Robb looked better than when he arrived, perhaps that is why before we left for the Main Hall he stopped me.
"There's something in your eyes Jon… you… try to relax alright? I can't have my most smartest-"
"And handsome." I cut him.
"And handsome brother," he added with an eyeroll. "Being an angry menace all the time."
I sighed, that was fair, but at the same time, "How could you tell?"
"Jon, you can't hide your emotions in your face to save your life," my face must have shown something again because he had a look of 'see-just-like-that'. "Go get some food at a lower table, I'll handle my lords."
"Alright Stark, I'll go an relax while you work hard."
"You should, tomorrow I'll introduce you to the lords," he finished with a smirk.
And like that, he left me with a pit of dread in my guts.
Well, I guess it's time to have some vodka. I wonder if I can drink as much as I could in my last life.
Edit: I thought Tyrion's kidnapping wasn't known to the Northern lords until Catelyn gets to the Moat, I had to reread the chapter and found out that the lords heard that Catelyn had Tyrion as captive
A/N: Did you notice something happened? Or rather didn't happen? I wonder what that is? (wrong answers only)
Next time, Interludes.
Anyways, thank you for reading. And once again, I politely demand your comments >:D