Ryella knew she would not be able to hold back her tears as she said goodbye. Jon Snow looked cheerful, but his cheerfulness was involuntarily tinged with a taste of horror, as if he were facing dragons that suddenly appeared at his feet. Ryella insisted on riding with him all the way to the harbour, all the way to the shore where the Stark ship had departed. Robb did not follow them, merely escorting his subjects on his tall, dark-backed horse to the edge of the Wolf Woods, when he spotted his daughter under the high, wolf-headed spears of his plate-belted bodyguards, held aloft among the crowd of Bolton, Glover, Umber, and who knows what else. Roslin felt nothing but a distant strangeness for her brother-in-law. And now that she had given birth to heirs for Robb, there was no longer any need for her to reside once more in the ornate castle of the Twins, far from Winterfell. Here, the noble ladies of the realm, and even Eddard's wife, to be called 'Lady Stark', will exercise their unchallenged power over her. Especially if Robb never returns. For how can she be sure that he will return from every war? Robb and his bodyguards stopped in front of her. Her husband's shadow, as if speaking to her from the immeasurable heights of heaven, completely enveloped her.
- You stay here. Do you understand?
- I have no intention of going with him, my husband. "Roslin bowed her head. "But with your permission, our daughter Ryella will accompany Jon Snow to the harbour. Forgive me for not asking your permission first, but he tells me how busy you are with your work.
Robb, as if with his characteristic nervousness, adjusted the fancy bridle.
- Of course. So much to do! Go, there's enough men-at-arms to escort the crates of treasure to the docks. Now go home to my heirs. The ladies of the court will look after you while the newborn Osric needs his mother's milk. You know you are kind to me, and wise like my mother.
He leaned down from his saddle and put his strong palm on her head. In her strange, confused smile, Roslin seemed to see a shadow. Her husband was already galloping on, the bodyguards' horses snorting loudly. Roslin looked after them until Jon Snow appeared beside her. The fact that Robb had a daughter made a difference to his current situation. Roslin didn't know exactly how many bastard brothers Robb had, since House of Stark was huge. Not that it mattered. After all, even her own husband was not as close to their daughter as the wolf horseman who now came to her side with a cheerful smile all of a sudden. For that Jon Snow was to marry Ryella she had suspected with increasing certainty since Robb had made him an envoy. It wasn't the gods that had foretold it, but his voice, his hurried, belligerent, determined movements.
- I love the sea," said Jon Snow, when the big wagons and horses were standing on the shores of Ice Bay, washed by the waves of the harbour. - My father took me to the beach several times when I lived in Winterfell. I remember the shiny shells and how the water smelled then. And when I was seven, my father took me to the Iron Islands with my brother Casta. We went across the sea then, too, on a huge white-hulled Greyjoy galleon with gold octopus painted on the side. The town is like a forest carved out of stone. Endless as the wilderness, the houses and palaces seem to float above the water as if they had been painted there. Only Winterfell is bigger than the Iron Islands. One day I'll take you there to see for yourself!
Ryella could feel the man's emotion as he spoke of old memories, especially when he spoke of the Iron Islands. She had no desire to be within its stone walls. No, because stones and buildings made of them have a sort of dark, dry aura, less likely to move ghosts, but through the trees of the north's forest they can flow unhindered. Even now she could feel them around her, as they rode through the old stone walls, now crumbling here and there, and flat-roofed stone buildings, along the dirt roads beaten up by horses. Bitter undead, withered into twisted worms, moved only here in the walls, looking after them, whispering in malevolent, foreign tongues. The Iron Islands or King's Landing might be the same, only bigger, filled with many more, darkened even further, bitter souls, locked forever in the stones. Passing under a half-collapsed triumphal arch, they paused here for a moment, and Jon Snow eagerly spoke a few words about the statues carved into the walls: there were Stark soldiers with spear and sword in hand, wearing tall, wolf-headed helmets, and those who had been subdued while their septons sealed their souls in stone. Ryella was sure that it was not very salutary to pass under such broken gates that bound bad souls. Sometimes she was able to see the outline of their shadows against the even more massive stone arches that Jon Snow had enthusiastically told her about. As well as the forms of the great sanctuaries, with their intact columns and domes, with so many wonders dreamily etched on the canvas of her soul, the golden arches glowing in the sun, the grey and oval arenas, the narrow streets leading up to the coastal hills. Would she be happy there if it really came to taking Jon Snow with him? Could she be happy there, a stranger, if she could no longer see the snow-capped mountains of Winterfell, if she could no longer feel the steamy warmth of the Long Lake's pools around her, if she could no longer see the carved faces of the old gods in the crow-trees and the clay statues of the ancients beside the trunks of the oaks of Wolf woods? No, she could not be happy. But strangely enough, she would, if Jon Snow wanted her to. She might even accept the faith of the god that Jon Snow says is the One God. She shuddered at the thought as she watched the young man's face very closely.
- "I've never seen the sea before," she told him as they rode slowly to the shore.
- I think you'll like it too. It's as big as God.
It all sounded strange, since the word 'sea' was the same as Westeros. The word sea in Stark could also mean the world or the Seven Kingdoms, and perhaps it should have said great lake, but Ryella felt that it didn't really express what the sea really was.
- 'Aezorre (I love you),' Jon Snow said now in Valyrian, when he finally saw the great water.
The harbour was not as far from Robb's castle as Ryella had thought. Nor was it half a day's ride away. It didn't mean much to a Stark girl who was put on horseback before she'd really learned to walk. The endless expanse of the sea rippled before them with soothing slowness. It rumbled as if listening to the slow breathing of a vast creature stretching out into the infinite distance. Even at this distance, Ryella could hear the billions of stars of the shells swirling in the ripples. She was dazzled by the sight, truly mesmerised by the unspeakably beautiful sea. The white-backed gulls and other birds seemed like golden wisps of clouds above the towering islands and carved-nosed giants of many oared boats. The water's mirror glistened in the sun's sudden spear of light, as if the whispering fish of the waves had lit their golden torches in the depths. Soon afterwards they were standing on the edge of the great grey cliffs that surrounded the shore. Ryella rested her head on the man's chest. Jon Snow held her gently to him and kissed her on the forehead. If she were a grown woman, they would most certainly be together in this sensual embrace. From the flat top of the cliff, the rowing galleys looked like small toys, and it was clear that the servants were already loading up the huge chests of gold and fancy clothes. In response to the man's thoughts, the sky overhead suddenly clouded over. A blackish cloud came in and the wind caught the half-down sail of one of the huge galleys.
- 'Come on, dear,' said Jon Snow, holding up his arm protectively, 'it's not safe up here. As pretty as the view is, it's not worth it, not to tempt the Evil One.
Ryella obediently put her arm around him. Together they climbed down carefully, cautious on the slippery rocks, green with algae. Already the ships' sailors Hunter and Bracken were milling about in great crowds, surrounded by the treasures, clothing and precious gifts sent to Castle Black. Plate-vested, iron-helmeted Starks oversaw the loading of the gifts, Robb's men, some of whom would travel with Jon Snow to King's Landing. His father had no fleet of ships, but with so many conquered servants it had become possible to maintain and equip them with battle galleys, which would raise the Stark kings' wolf banners over their pointed bows. Roslin stood on one of the castle's bridges, watching them from the railing, while beside her the bodyguards were trying to tow a stubborn horse into the courtyard.
- 'I don't like the way he's looking at our daughter,' she said to Robb, who had so far paid little heed to the dark-eyed, black-haired bastard's advances.
Once before she had withstood Jon Snow's gaze as they left Robb's castle, but now the oppressive feeling was renewed.
- I sense some dark intent in the bastard's eyes. Robb! I beg you not to let him near our daughter. Perhaps the ship he sails in may sink tomorrow, the waves of the sea will cast him from them, for he is unclean.
- "Jon Snow?" shrugged Robb. - 'Jon Snow is just a bastard from Winterfell. I told you he saved my life and brings gifts of the North to Castle Black.
Roslin sensed that he was not being honest, that he was hiding something. She tried to pull Robb close to her, almost clinging to the man's wolf fur, as if she could see into his soul with this desperate move.
- You're not telling the truth. Why do you send that bastard to King Robert's court?
Robb gently dropped her hand from his chest.
- I am the acting head of this embassy. Do you think I would let someone with evil intentions or an impure soul come before the Great King? You are disgusted with him only because you are not married to him.
They said their goodbyes, and Ryella, against the urging of her father's cavalcade, climbed the high cliffs once more to watch the slowly receding ships. She felt a silent scream and an invisible whirlpool in her soul that seemed to suck her in forever, like the ooze of Winterfell's cold womb, if she stayed there too long.