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The parchment scroll was picked up, put down, and then picked up again. The latest news concerned Tywin Lannister's assassination, and it seemed the Seven Kingdoms were now seeking Varys, the Master of Whisperers. The identity of the murderer was already known.
A cold wind swept in from outside the tent, and a few sparks from the charcoal basin popped, mirroring Cole's unsettled heart. Perhaps it was time to depart, Cole mused. It appeared someone desired to plunge Westeros deeper into chaos.
Without Tywin, the Lannister family had lost half its bite. The king was young, and without a decisive figure at court, a power struggle was inevitable. The Tyrells would not miss such an opportunity, nor would Cersei Lannister relinquish her power easily.
Cole skimmed the rest of the letter, but his mind lingered on the most striking words.
Setting the letter aside, Cole quickly rose and stepped out of the tent. He halted the training in the camp and then summoned all officers to his tent.
Attendants arranged chairs on either side of the charcoal basin. The officers, responsible for training, swiftly arrived after receiving the order. Cole sat in the main seat, clad in armor. Seeing their prince fully armed, they seemed to guess his intentions.
"Who else hasn't arrived?" the Prince of Storm's End inquired.
Langge was just entering the tent at that moment, meeting Cole's question with an embarrassed expression. "Sorry, I'm late."
"Take a seat," Cole ordered.
"Yes, Your Highness," Langge replied, quickly moving to an empty chair.
"It seems everyone is here," Cole said, surveying the full chairs. "Then let's begin the meeting."
Cole cleared his throat. "The purpose of this meeting is to prepare for our return south. I've decided to divide our forces into two groups. I will lead two warbands ahead, while the remaining four will continue to garrison here, awaiting Duran Bar Emmon to bring Her Royal Highness, the Princess, before escorting her back to Storm's End." He swept his gaze over the faces of the six warband leaders and quickly selected his choices. "Langge, Lyle, you two will follow me south. Now, go and prepare your soldiers."
The two officers stood up. Langge, a black-haired Andal born a serf, had followed Cole in the battle to capture Storm's End and later joined the cavalry. He had fought alongside Cole in many campaigns. Though not tall, a year of fighting and training had made him strong. Langge commanded a cavalry warband. This time, Cole had brought two cavalry regiments north, totaling about 400 men.
Lyle was a very capable new officer. He was born into a merchant family; his father was a prominent merchant in the town of Storm's End. Lyle's father had offered his loyalty and wealth to Cole, sending his son to serve as a soldier under him. This young man was not a spoiled heir without talent. His father had hired several tutors to cultivate Lyle's abilities in all aspects, including martial arts, management, and business.
"By the way, have the Starfish and the White Bird prepare for the voyage," Cole continued to instruct the two.
Cole then assigned an officer to manage the barracks after his departure. After giving his orders, Cole began to write letters. He needed to urge Duran to finalize an alliance with the Stark family as soon as possible. If there were any obstacles, he was to bring Shireen back to Eastwatch without delay. He also penned a letter to the Wall. After making all arrangements, Cole carefully considered if he had missed anything.
By the time the ship set sail, it was already evening the next day. The sky had turned golden. Westeros was known to those from the East as the "Land of Sunset." The sun slowly dipped in the west, casting a sparkling afterglow upon the sea. Cole stood on the deck, gripping the railing, the sea breeze ruffling his shawl and silver hair, as he gazed at the distant, imposing Wall.
As the capital of the North gradually appeared, with its manors and fields, Winterfell was a place that haunted Cole's soul. He had grown up there with his brothers and sisters: Robb, Arya, Sansa, Bran, Rickon. The faces of these familiar people filled his mind. Cole had once hoped to ride south and return to this very place.
They were traversing an abandoned manor in the hills. Two years prior, his father had executed a Night's Watchman here, a ranger. At the time, Cole hadn't understood the meaning of "ranger"; he only knew it was a deserter from the Wall, full of strange pronouncements. But now, he wondered if the man had been right. He had spoken of the dead beyond the Wall, but everyone had dismissed him as mad.
The horses continued onward, leading them into a forest. This is it, Cole told himself, his eyes shifting to Ghost. It was here they had found the direwolf's body and six small pups. Cole continued to search for familiar landmarks until they reached the winter town. It was far livelier than he remembered; people usually only gathered here when winter was truly upon them. It seemed the people of the North knew that winter was indeed coming.
Robb and his men greeted them in front of the castle. Cole quickly realized his brother had grown taller and now sported a beard. His reddish-brown hair was still unmistakable. Cole dismounted and handed the reins to his squire.
"Welcome home, my brother," Robb said, Grey Wind at his side, the direwolf now missing an eye and bearing a narrow scar on his face.
Cole embraced him. Behind Robb followed a group of people, including Maester Luwin, Ser Harris Moran, Ser Rodrik Cassel, and many unfamiliar faces. However, Cole did not see Lady Catelyn among them. The thought made the bastard chuckle to himself. Even as the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, he was still not favored by Lady Stark.
"I have prepared a feast in the hall. Bring the brothers of the Night's Watch in first," Robb said.
Walking from the city gate to the hall, Robb introduced Cole to the lords of the North. The tall man following behind them was Greatjon Umber, the patriarch of the Umber family, known as "Greatjon." The Umber family of Last Hearth held territory stretching from the Bay of Seals to the east of the Kingsroad. Wildlings constantly bypassed Eastwatch's patrols to harass Umber lands. Cole also introduced Lord Duran Bar Emmon, who had traveled with him, to Robb.
"Winterfell welcomes you too, Lord Earl," Robb said in a calm tone.
"I am deeply sorry for what happened to the Duke," Duran replied.
The atmosphere of the banquet was not somber; Robb had arranged it with practiced ease. Cole sat between Maester Luwin and Robb. As the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, not merely a Stark bastard, he deserved such an honor.
"I'm glad you could come, Cole," Robb told him. Robb's every movement mirrored his father's; he issued orders with quiet authority and responded to guests calmly.
"If it can help you," Cole replied.
"I cannot stay here for too long. You know the war in the south has not yet subsided. A general must be with his soldiers," Robb said.
Cole thought bitterly, I am the same; there are many troubles on the Wall.
There was also a girl beside Robb, one Cole was certain he had never seen in Winterfell. As if noticing Cole's gaze, Robb said, "I forgot to introduce you. This is my wife, Jeyne, Jeyne Westerling. She is pregnant." His eyes were full of tenderness.
"Hello, Lord Cole," Jeyne greeted in a crisp voice. She was a beautiful girl with chestnut curly hair, brown eyes, and a slightly bulging belly.
"He is my brother. You can call him Cole, Jeyne."
The girl smiled shyly.
"If it's a boy, I will name him 'Ed'," Robb said.
Cole nodded. "Father's matter?"
"I've ordered the best stonemason in Winterfell to carve a statue in his likeness." Both brothers looked somber.
When the dishes were cleared, the guests dispersed.
"Go see your father," Cole said to Robb.
They picked up torches and walked towards the crypt. Darkness and cold quickly enveloped them, much like the memories they had revisited again and again—the games they used to play there. They went deeper, past rows of stone pillars and statues, almost to the very end. There was no statue in the tomb, but they both knew who lay sleeping there.
"It's my fault," Cole's voice was a little hoarse. "If it wasn't for saving me, Father wouldn't have..."
"No, don't blame yourself, Cole." Robb's voice was extremely low, and Cole could see tears in the corners of Robb's eyes by the firelight.
The wind whistled in the crypt. In the dark corridor, countless shadows seemed to sway in the weak torchlight. Generations of Kings of the North slept here: Cole Stark, Rickard Stark, Brandon Stark. In the deepest parts of the crypt lay even more ancient kings. Robb's shadow seemed to merge with them, but Cole would never have the opportunity to join them. This was the tomb of the King of the North. Yet, when he turned his eyes to the tomb of Duke Rickard Stark, there might be an exception.
Cole walked to the statue of a woman. This was his aunt, Lyanna Stark. They slept together because of his father's longing for her. But she was actually his mother. The statue made him feel strange and confused. The price of the truth was so cruel. If he had to choose, Cole would rather have remained in the dark his whole life than for his father to have endured such hardship. Once, he had been so eager to know his mother's identity from his father. He had never doubted whether Eddard Stark was his biological father.
"Father wanted to protect you," Robb told him. "Aunt Lyanna was abducted by Rhaegar. Robert Baratheon hated him so much. If he knew you were Rhaegar's child, he would not have let you live. So Father chose to hide it from everyone, including Mother."
"Tell me about the Night's Watch, Cole," Robb asked.
"How can I even begin?" Cole sighed, pausing for a moment. "At least now I have the final say on the Wall."
"It seems we'll have to cooperate, Cole," Robb smiled bitterly. He shook his head. "If you're referring to the war in the Seven Kingdoms, then I am powerless, Robb. We've sworn an oath that, besides not marrying or having children, we cannot participate in any affairs of the Seven Kingdoms."
Robb fell silent. He knew the Night's Watch oath. There was a deep friendship between the Stark family and the Night's Watch; they respected every guard on the Wall.
"The matter of the Wall," Robb said to him, "we have not yet avenged our blood feud with the wildlings."
"The armies of Randyll Tarly and the Frey family in the south are eyeing us covetously and may cross the Neck and head north at any time, so the matter of the Wall can only be left to you." Robb stared at his face. "I'll let Greatjon go with you."
Cole paused before speaking. "Robb, I hope what I say won't make you think I'm a madman." He remembered what Cole had said to him: Enemies, their enemies are never living people.
The Young Wolf Lord was stunned, and then heard Cole say, "I saw it with my own eyes, Robb." He spoke in a serious tone. "When we swore to join the Night's Watch, we passed through the gate, left the Great Wall, and went to the Shadow Tower. The oath was made under the weirwood trees in the forest, and the Heart Tree couldn't be found more than ten miles south of the Great Wall.
Ghost found two corpses in the woods. They were Night's Watchmen and rangers who had followed Uncle Benjen beyond the Great Wall. We brought the corpses back to Castle Black. In fact, those corpses had turned into monsters who had risen from the dead. We call them 'wights'. The wights came to life and attacked the command tower and the armory. Those monsters were difficult to kill with swords; only fire could stop them, igniting them instantly."
"I saw it with my own eyes," Cole emphasized again. "Old Bear was my Lord Commander before me. He led us beyond the Great Wall and deep into the lands beyond. There, our team was attacked by wights and suffered heavy losses."
"I know who our enemy is, Cole. If there are dead people, they can't climb the seven hundred-foot-high Wall, at least not for eight thousand years." Helplessness flashed in Robb's eyes. "Compared to the dead, the Lannister army is already close at hand. From here, go south along the King's Road, and you can reach the Neck in a few days. While I don't think they have the courage to cross the Neck, the Riverlands are my grandfather's territory, and I cannot turn a blind eye."
Cole looked at Robb in astonishment. "Are you still planning to go south?"
"Tywin Lannister isn't having an easy time in King's Landing," Robb knew far more about the south than Cole did. "Come up, the torch is almost out."
They walked out of the crypt side by side. Cole looked back at the darkness and couldn't help but sigh. "I wonder where Bran and Arya will be."
"I've sent people to search. Arya was last seen in Seagard."
The weather outside the crypt was no different from the cold underground. The night was cool and the cold wind biting. A wolf howl sounded from the castle, followed by the howl of a wolf running across the ice field. Robb looked at his brother beside him and found Cole looking directly at him. The two of them smiled at each other.
"Winter is coming, Cole."
"Winter is coming, Stark."