The great hall of Riverrun slowly emptied.The meeting had ended, yet Robb Stark motioned for Jon to stay behind. The lords of the North and Riverlands departed one by one, their footsteps echoing across the stone floor. As they passed, their eyes lingered on Jon with open hostility.Greatjon Umber spat on the ground as he strode by, a deliberate insult. Rickard Karstark, who had nearly come to blows with Jon earlier, kept his head held high. Even though Jon had saved Harrion, his son, Rickard did not so much as glance his way—an intentional slight, as if Jon were unworthy of acknowledgment.Soon the chamber was almost empty. Only Robb, Catelyn, Brynden Tully, Edmure, and Jon remained.Theon Greyjoy slipped in as well. He had heard the whispers of what had transpired and could not resist coming to see with his own eyes. He was baffled by Jon's earlier words against Robb's coronation and wanted to hear the explanation directly.Robb's voice cut through the silence, steady but solemn. He first turned to his uncle, Brynden, the Blackfish."Uncle, I appoint you Grand General of the South. You shall command the Riverlands' armies until this war is won. Uncle Edmure, you will assist him."Brynden inclined his head, his expression resolute. "You need not worry. I will unite the Riverlands' banners and bring them to order swiftly."Edmure, not much older than Robb himself, accepted the charge as well.Robb nodded, reassured. Of all his kin, Brynden was the one he trusted most in matters of war.Then Robb turned to his mother. "Mother, I ask you to seek out Renly. Perhaps he may yet be persuaded to stand with us."Catelyn's lips pressed into a thin line, but she nodded. "I understand. I will try to win him to our cause."She knew, as Robb must know, that things would have been simpler had he not declared himself king. An alliance with Renly would have been far easier to secure. Yet the die was cast. No matter how slim the chances, she would try—if only for her children's sake.Robb then looked to Jon. His eyes softened. "Jon, your skill in arms is unmatched. I would have you guard my mother, to go with her and keep her safe."That he would entrust his mother's life to Jon was proof of how much he valued him. The others noticed it too. Theon in particular felt a sharp stab of envy, though most of his old jealousy had long since faded.But Jon did not intend to accept. He already knew Catelyn's mission would come to nothing.He bowed his head respectfully before answering. "Robb, I have already refused you once today. By rights, I should not do so again. Yet I must. Since you have chosen to help the Riverlords reclaim their lost lands, I must find another way to strengthen our forces."When I was at the Green Fork, I captured a leader of the mountain clans. He told me that only part of their number serve the Lannisters. The rest remain unbound. I wish to seek them out, persuade them, and bring them into our army. If I succeed, we may ease the shortage of men."His voice was calm, his reasoning measured. Though it was another refusal, none could fault his logic. Even Catelyn inclined her head slightly, acknowledging the sense in his plan.Robb considered it carefully. The Stormlands were far away, and any help from Renly would be long in coming. A new force raised close at hand could prove invaluable. At last, he nodded."Very well. If you can win the mountain clans to our side, it will be a great boon."Jon inclined his head. "For that, I will need arms and armor."Robb did not hesitate. "We captured many Lannister soldiers. We have no shortage of weapons. Two thousand sets—would that suffice?"Jon's brows rose slightly at the generosity. The mountains could not yield so many men, yet he was not about to squander the chance. Now was the time to cash in the favors owed him."Three thousand," Jon said evenly. "Some will be damaged, and I plan to raise militias in the Riverlands as well. Better to have more."Robb looked to Edmure, who gave a firm nod. "Riverrun's stores can manage it.""Then three thousand it shall be," Robb agreed. "If you are eager to depart, I will have ships and horses prepared. The arms will be delivered before you return."Jon gave a small smile. He wants me gone already? Perfect. I've no wish to linger here either.Rising to his feet, he spoke with quiet weight. "For revenge. For the North."Robb's eyes widened slightly at the words, then he straightened and nodded solemnly.---Outside the hall, Theon fell into step beside him, his face puzzled."Jon, why did you try to stop Robb from declaring himself king?"Jon glanced at him. "Theon, of all men, you should understand me best."Theon blinked, bewildered. Understand him? I don't, not at all."Years ago, your father raised himself king," Jon continued, his tone low. "Robert came against him, and your brothers paid with their lives. You, better than anyone, should know the truth of it: He who would wear a crown must bear its weight."I fear for Robb. Now that he has taken the crown, danger will follow him at every step. And you, Theon—you are at his side. We have grown up together. I count you a brother. I would not see you suffer for his choices either."Theon's heart lurched. Jon's mix of honesty and persuasion left him dizzy."Do you remember our wager?" Jon asked suddenly. "You lost. You swore you would help me persuade someone."Theon brightened. "Aye, of course! Say the word. Just not Robb—you know everyone wants him king."Jon laughed softly. "Not Robb. Another matter." Then his face grew serious. "Theon… if one day you were asked to kill Bran and Rickon, would you do it?"Theon stopped short, eyes wide. "Jon! How could you even say such a thing? They are my brothers!""And if your father commanded it?"Theon faltered. "He… he wouldn't…" But the certainty was not in his voice.Jon pressed on. "The North lies open, vulnerable. The Iron Islands are near. If Balon and his lords see weakness, what then? What if they move against Winterfell?""No," Theon protested, though doubt flickered in his eyes.Jon's voice was steady. "Robb may send you to the Iron Islands soon, to win your father's support. When he does, do not urge Balon to strike the North. Tell him to wait. If Robb can take the Westerlands, there will be richer spoils there. Tell him to bide his time."Theon stared at him, unsettled. How could Jon, a bastard half a head shorter than him, see so far ahead? Yet he remembered his promise, and at last he nodded. "I'll do it."Jon studied his face, then gave a single nod. That was enough. The North would no longer weigh upon him.His eyes turned southward, toward King's Landing.That was his true stage.Stannis had once come within a single step of seizing the city. With Jon's hand guiding events, perhaps this time the tide would not turn against him.
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