Robb Stark(SI) - Winterfell - 298 AC
"Reorganize my men!," Greatjon Umber's voice echoed into the great hall cutting through the large din of noise made by the gathering of every lord of note and not of note in the North.
"The blasted stars will fall before an Umber does not command Umber men. I piss on you asking to rearrange my levies. A lord's levies fight with his lord as is right and proper and has always been."
He slammed his fist hard into the table launching food and drink into the air.
"I'll be damned if I follow that order. I'd sooner march all my men home then surrender them from my command."
While I knew this would come, nothing could quite prepare someone for having a veritable giant scream at them. Steeling myself I tried to look unfazed.
Idly brushing Grey Winds fur in my hand I spoke softly but my voice carried in the silence.
"You may do that but know Lord Umber that you will be known as a man who boasted loud and proud during peace and summer but ran like a dog during winter and war. And when you get back to your castle you will soon find behind you me and my men coming to root you out of your home and hang you for the oatbreaking coward you would be."
The tension in the room skyrocketed and one could hear Greatjon gritting his teeth.
Spitting out a hah as if to say fuck it Greatjon gripped his sword and made to pull it while speaking.
"I'll not be talked to like that by a boy so gre—-"
He never got to finish his sentence as Grey Wind leapt at him pressing down on the man with its heavy weight and savaging two fingers from Greatjon's left hand.
It was over so fast that no one could even reach for their sword let alone pull it out.
Through it all I kept eating as if totally unconcerned, which I was to some degree for I knew of Greatjon's loyalty.
Dabbing my mouth with a cloth I spoke breaking the silence as Greatjon got up.
"My father taught me that it was death to bear steel before one's liege lord but Lord Umber surely only meant to carve some meat for me." I said pointing to the huge roasted boar at the center of the feasting table.
"Your meat is bloody tough," Greatjon, ignoring that he lost two fingers, bellowed out with laughter.
The rest of the room joined in.
The feast continued on for a bit more before it was again interrupted, but this time by Lady Barbery Dustin.
The churlish Lady of Barratown had fulfilled her obligation and came with all of the Dustin levies and mounted men along with her Ryswell kin doing the same.
But that did not mean she was happy with me.
"Lord Stark, may I ask where Lord Bolton is?"
I resisted the urge to say you may.
Not wanting to repeat myself I singled for Grey Wind to howl which quieted the room quickly. I awarded the wolf with a side of meat.
"Lady Dustin has asked me a question I'm certain you all are curious about: the whereabouts of Lord Bolton. If you all would follow me into the godswood I would be happy to clarify."
Standing up I quickly moved with the confused and curious lords following behind me.
When I entered Winterfell's large godswood the scent of blood hit me strong. It should have made me queasy but knowing whose blood it was simply made me smile.
When we reached the heart tree the small crowd behind me gasped and shouted with more than one person vomiting for what they saw was the hung entrails of Ramsey Snow decorating the weeping face of the tree.
At the base of the tree were also two guards who held the kneeling figure of Roose Bolton. Though his eyes were still unreadable the slump in his shoulder showed his acceptance in defeat.
Looking at the now rowdy crowd I turned on all the drama and flair I had in my body.
"My lords," I shouted, "I ask that you calm yourselves. I have more than good reasons for the sight you see before you."
Greatjon yelled for silence and "To listen to the Stark", to which I gave him a thankful nod.
"I was recently made aware of a man hunting smallfolk with dogs and raping, killing, and defiling their corpses. I inquired into this and found that the man responsible was the baseborn son of Roose Bolton who you see hung before you. If doing deplorable acts to dozens of smallfolk were not enough he also resorted to kinslaying on the advice and consent of his father."
The crowd gasped at that with more than a few people muttering prayers at hearing of such a horrible crime.
I carried on.
"Lord Roose Bolton fathered Ramsey on a millers wife using the banned Right of the First Night raping the woman under her new husbands hung corpse."
Looks of disgust were thrown at the kneeling Roose though a few of the Mountain Clansmen shuffled along with Lord Karstark.
I knew some of the more northern Lords never stopped that deplorable practice but for now I would have to pretend I didn't see for I needed their support more than justice needed to be done.
I could feel the original Robb in me wilt at that but I knew I had to shore up my power before angering my bannermen.
"He then encouraged his baseborn child to kill his trueborn son Domeric due to feeling him weak after his fostering in the Vale," I blatantly lied and continued to weave my tale, "He arranged this by giving money to Ramsey's mother who in return gave it to Ramsey for the sole purpose of buying poison."
Looks of disgust turn to looks of loathing.
"Feeling disgusted upon discovering this I dug more into Lord Roose and soon discovered he too brutalized his own smallfolk and on a larger scale as well though kept more quite for instead of hunting them down like animals he brought them into a concealed room in the Dreadfort where they would be flayed, another banned practice."
"And as if that was not enough, in said concealed room lay the mutilated remains of my ancestors whose flayed skins were used by Roose along with his leeches to pleasure himself."
A lord threw up but whether from the words or the smell of the rotting corpse thick in the air was unknown.
"But fret not my good lords for I do not bring you my word alone. I am not the Mad King Aerys who kills lords without fair trial. I would ask that four impartial lords of known noble character put themselves forward to act as a judge alongside myself and look at the evidence I have gathered so that we may properly charge Roose Bolton."
Lord Ryswell looked relieved at that while everyone else simply took my words as fact, a benefit of being the son of the honorable Ned Stark.
Glaring balefully at the corpse of the boy who killed her nephew Lady Dustin tried to put herself forward but was stopped due to her ties to the victim.
In the end the judges were Greatjon Umber, Maege Mormont, Robett Glover, and Wyman Manderly.
I brought out the evidence, some real and some fake like the flayed skin that were said to belong to a Stark but were some poor farming girls instead.
The evidence of abuse against the smallfolk was plentiful and ironclad enough that the result would be damning but some lords were detached from the peasantry and would not view such crimes as enough to attain the Boltons as I sought to do. Defiled noble corpses would convince them otherwise.
When the miller wife mad in rage, fear, and grief cried "I rue the day Roose raped me" then lunged at me trying to gouge my eyes out, but not getting far with Grey Wind tearing her throat out, everyone was shouting for Roose to be killed.
The three lords and one lady all gave guilty sentences though Wyman cautioned against an execution now.
"My lord, though the damned Leech Lord may be guilty if you kill him now a fight amongst the sizable levies he brought is sure to break out, killing many of our own."
"Prudent advice Lord Manderly but I had already thought of that. I camped them far away and separately. Their leaders have been rounded up and all weapons have been seized from their men some hours ago."
At my hand wave a man stepped forward. Blood splatters on his armor he stopped right before me and saluted, which I returned. He repeated the report he told me earlier.
"Mission accomplished. Bolton levies isolated and disarmed. All their leaders have been either captured or killed."
"Good. Have the men finish washing up and eating and give the order for sleep. I want them rested for their rewards tomorrow."
The soldier smiled before running off.
When I turned back to the lords there were many scrutinizing and approving glances levied at me.
With his worry covered Wyam added his guilty verdict and I added mine.
"I Robb Stark in the name of my father Eddard Stark Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell hereby declare for the crimes of kinslaying, mutilation, murder, and more that Lord Roose Bolton shall be executed, his name erased, and his lands attained with half to be absorbed by House Stark."
With the verdict settled I made my way to the up till now silent Leech Lord. Coming close to his ear I whispered.
"If you declare yourself guilty I'll behead you then give your body to the heart tree. If you declare yourself innocent I shall have you tortured for moons until you go mad then tortured some more for good measure."
Stepping back I grabbed my sword and spoke loudly this time.
"Roose Bolton in light of the charges and verdict brought against your person, how do you plead?"
Looking up to the sky as if resigned and uncaring Roose whispered "Guility" and soon after his head fell.
The lords cheered at that but soon grew disquieted as instead of sheathing my blade I opened Roose's stomach and pulled out his entrails to cover the branches of the heart tree.
The tree drank the blood greedily, its white branches shining with an almost blinding white luster after draining the blood.
When I was done I turned around to see many pale faces though the Umbers, Mormonts, Skagosis, Manderlys, and Mountain Clansmen were downright smiling.
Caught in the thrill of my performance, and something else, I took my bloody hand and wiped it through my hair and smiled at the crowd.
More than a few took a step back and one lady fainted.
"My lords, I know what you whisper in your cups. '3/4th an southern' you say 'with a southern mother and a southern raised father.' 'An honorable father,' you say 'but not a true Northern'," I hissed bitterly, letting Robb Stark's feelings flow through.
I stared at each lord in the crowd. Few met my gaze head on especially when I started petting Grey Wind.
"Let it be known now that I was raised in the North all my life and while I honor my father and mother's teachings I first and foremost honor the land's thousands of years of teachings. Letting these filth serve at least one good purpose in their lives by feeding a heart tree is more than what they deserve."
That received hard gazes and a rousing reply of 'Ayes' and curses directed at the Boltons.
Waving my red hand for silence I was pleased when I was granted it quickly without having to resort to Grey Wind.
"But let it not be said that Robb Stark only emulated the savage side of the Kings of Winter. Maege Mormont, Lord Crowl, Lord Magnar, Lord Stane, Wyman Manderly, Robett Glover on behalf of House Glover, and a knight of House Tallhart on behalf of Helman Tallhart, the two Masters absent due to following my father's orders to guard Moat Cailin, all of you kneel."
They followed my orders quickly.
"Wyman Manderly, you were the first to answer my call and you did so ardently and with no hesitation. You gathered your ships, knights, and men and handed them all over to me to use as I saw fit with nary a complaint. You also helped ferry the Skagosi troops. Your house has served mine ever since it was taken into the north and godswilling it shall serve evermore. I ask that you have no fear of my display for under my mother I learned respect for the New Gods and all of its worshipers in the North shall be protected by me. As a reward for your fealty I grant you this."
I snapped my fingers to which one of the guardsmen who had been guarding Roose Bolton came forward with sheets of parchment and a small circular object.
All the guests craned their necks to see what it was and looked quite disappointed but that changed when they saw Wyman's face.
With awe filled and grateful eye Wyman tried to purposely turn down the gift though his hands clenched tight around the compass. The fat but smart lord instantly grasped its use on the sea.
A single compass, how to make more, and some pages on ships upgrades were far from worthy rewards in my mind for the act of leal service the Manderly's did orchestrating the whole 'North Remembers' plot to put the Starks back in Winterfell even when they had no reason to but to Wyman it must have been seen as much too generous.
"I'm not worthy of such a gift, my lord. This is too fine a present. Why I don't think I could buy it with all the silver I have."
That raised eyebrows for all knew the large wealth the Manderlys had from their silver mines and trade.
"Nonsense. Rise my leal lord and serve me well. Hard and daunting work and more rewards await you."
The fat lord struggled to rise but did so tears brimming out of the corner of his eyes.
"Lord Crowl, Lord Magnar, and Lord Stane the history between your house and mind is tumultuous. My ancestor banned you from holding ships for your raiding which in turn denied you the bounty of the sea worsening your winter hunger. You rebelled against my house not even a hundred years ago killing my ancestor Barthogan Stark but now you have answered my call. In fact your house has brought the most greybeards out of everyone. I give you what any true Northern Stone-Born man would want. I give you bloodshed, honor, glory, and the first chance for loot in combat. I give you Lord Magnar command of the vanguard and the greybeards with Crowl and Stane as his seconds."
Lord Karstark looked furious at being passed over for the vanguard by whom he considered savages, but a glance at the hanging body of Roose Bolton blanched his face and his fury quickly.
The three lords from Skagos rose pleased, understanding and welcoming the honor and challenge.
"Maege Mormont out of all who had just cause to ignore my call none had more reasons than you. With your land under constant raids from Ironborn and wildlings you could have made an excuse not to come," I paused seeing the disgust form on the old She-Bear's face at the thought, "but instead you exhausted your island of fighting men and women in a way no other lord has. When I asked for all the levies to be raised you alone were loyal and mad enough to follow through and for that you shall be rewarded."
I smiled as the crowd hung off my every word. I snapped again and a guardsman brought me a wooden case. Opening it I knew that no one would expect what would come out of this box since even I couldn't believe it.
I pulled a slender longsword out and gasps could be heard as the blade caught the light and its valyrian ripples showed through.
I sometimes had to double check it was real for there was no way that yelling at a three-eyed raven in my dream that the only way I wouldn't send dozens of armed men to kill him is if he left Bran alone and brought me Dark Sister on eagle-back was all it took to gain a valyrian blade.
Naked greed and envy came across many of the lords faces. While Maege was stunned along with her daughters in the crowd.
"I gift you not just any sword but a valyrian one. I give you not just any valyrian sword but Dark Sister, a famed sword used by famed knights and women warriors. I know none better to wield it than the she-bears of Bear Island."
Maege bowed her head and declined like the loyal to a fault person she was. People looked at her either with approval or as if she was an idiot, I noted who was who.
"My lord, I believe the sword would best serve House Stark. House Mormont already has a valyrian blade."
"Aye, but Longclaw serves the Old Bear faithfully at the Wall and with him grooming my beloved brother Jon Snow to be the Lord Commander I would not be surprised if my brother impressed Lord Jeor enough to be gifted the blade so I must insist you take this."
"Even so we She-Bears are suited to smashing our and your enemies with maces, my lord. Sword play has no use for us. I swear I would rather see it used in your hand."
I looked at the younger Mormont warriors and they all nodded along to their mothers' words with pride on their faces.
I hid my smile at how pleased I was that what I wanted happened. Now I still would be able to wield a valyrian blade while being known as generous to have given one away.
"Very well. This blade shall serve me until I recover Ice and upon that will serve House Mormont forever."
Maege bowed her head and rose as I bid her to do so to the raucous cheers of the crowd.
"Robett Glover on behalf of House Glover and Ser Ardur of House Tallhart on behalf of Helman Tallhart. Your lords followed my fathers command to guard Moat Cailin just as faithfully as their ancestors have followed mine for many years. Let those years of faith be rewarded. With us in open rebellion against House Lannister we are in effect in open rebellion against the Iron Throne for that sick house controls it. Be that as it may it allows me to raise both your houses to full lordships and grant you all the honor and privileges that entails."
The shocked men who weren't in a position where they could refuse instead resorted to thanking me over and over again. I stopped them and bid them to stand alongside the others.
"Know my lords that there are many more rewards to be had, some even greater, and all ready for those who prove themselves to be worthy of it. I'm in discussion with the Wall to reclaim both the New Gift and the Old Gift in return for aid that they would be glad to take rather than land they cannot use nor defend. Not to mention special rewards like the device given to Lord Manderly and the blade to be owned by House Mormont."
The crowd erupted into cheers with the unoriginal name "The Generous Wolf" thrown around.
Lord Umber and Karstark looked to be salivating at the mention of getting their land in the New Gift back while everyone else seemed ready to do anything to receive such rewards, especially the lesser lords.
I stayed quiet for a moment and started walking in front of the line of lords and ladies looking them in the eyes.
No one dared speak now and the tension built. Even when Roose Bolton's blood that I had brushed into my hair dripped down my face I didn't break the silence or eye contact.
Nodding as if pleased I stepped back again and spoke my tone now grave, grabbing everyone's attention.
"I've called the banners of the North and the honorable and loyal houses of the North answered one and all. For the North Remembers. Thirty-five thousand men have gathered, five thousand of whom are greybeards sworn to die down south in a blaze of glory."
I saw shoulders roll back, spines straighten, and heads raise as all felt pride in the North.
"You all know why I called the banners. My father, the Hand of the King, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North and nothing if not a leal and loyal servant to King Robert Baratheon was wounded in the street by Jaime Lannister's Red Cloaks mid duel with the Kingslayer himself who had finished slaughtering my fathers household guard, the loyal Jory Cassel amongst the slain."
Robb's memories of young Jory flashed through my mind and thickened my voice with rage and grief.
"Mourn and rage for loyal and good Jory my lords for I mean to give his father a fourth of the Bolton lands along with the castle Dreadfort and his neighboring lord shall be the one who best avenges his son against the Lannisters."
Resolution and rage settled into the eyes of the men. Good, I thought.
"But if only that was it. My father went down south to investigate Jon Arryn's sudden death and found something much more vile. Learning from a book of lineages and by meeting Robert Baratheon's numerous bastards that no Baratheon was ever born without black hair and blue eyes my father suspected the Queen of infidelity. That suspicion turned into ironclad proof when my brother awoke from his coma and shortly after regained his memories of why he was pushed from the tower. Why he was almost murdered."
I growled murdered and Grey Wind howled with a mad fury, his brothers Shaggydog and Summer joining in. All the lords seethed with black rage as well at hearing that the little Stark was crippled and almost killed on purpose.
I steadfastly ignored the part where Bran actually hadn't regained his memories, though if asked he promised to say otherwise, and the part that Ned Stark did not communicate about his investigation to me.
I needed the Northern Lords beyond angry and united from the start of the war.
"My brother saw the Kingslayer fucking his own sister the Queen breaking a hundred oaths and a hundred laws."
Disbelief spread into the crowd's faces before the screaming and cursing at the name Kingslayer and Whore-Queen began with everyone making oaths to see the Kingslayer dead.
Fine by me, I thought.
No matter his redemption in the future and his likeability as a character the bastard had brought war to Westeros by fucking bastards into his sisters belly, killing countless more than he saved.
And more importantly being fused with Robb Stark I could not forgive him hunting Arya like a dog after she hurt Joffery and him trying to kill Bran.
"My father is an honorable man and so will no doubt go against my counsel and warn the Queen to flee with her children since he has no wish to see his friend Robert kill children. But I know in my very bones that bitch will kill the King and my father both."
The more politically astute lords nodded with grim faces while the rest were in disbelief hearing that their lord and king were written off as dead.
"Many of you asked why I train the troops and myself so hard. It's because I need the best army in the known world to avenge my father for I know he is dead. Joffery the Ill-Born has not a spit of smarts about him and all the madness of the Targaryens so he shall not hold my father hostage. My sisters may be brutalized like the Mad King did Rhaella. The Riverlands will be burned, raped, and pillaged more than it is now."
I stopped and stayed silent for a while before I whispered.
"And then they shall try to come for the North."
At that sword hilts were gripped hard until men's fists were white-knuckled. Some men were literally frothing at the mouth. For all I had said of Ned Stark earlier he was much beloved in the North for ruling over an age of peace and being just during it.
Hearing of his sure to be death and that the North would be attacked ignited something in everyone.
"My Lords," I screamed to get through to them. "The North faces its greatest trial since Theon Stark the Hungry Wolf."
"Beyond the Wall the largest wilding army in known history gathers, numbering 100,000 strong, under the King-Beyond-the-Wall Mance Rayder who intends to smash through the wall. Will you have him for your King?"
"Never.", "No.", "Over my rotting corpse," where the loud replies.
"Balon Greyjoy has rebuilt the Iron Fleet and his ships prepare to reave and rape the North in revenge for our role in putting down his stupid rebellion. Will you have him for your King?"
"No," everyone shouted.
"Joffery killed my sister Sansa's direwolf, tried to kill Arya herself but was disarmed by her," the tense room chuckled a bit before quickly drawing silent again, "and is suspected to be behind the assassins sent against Bran when he was unconscious. Will you have that bastard as your King?"
"NO!"
"Stannis should be the true King then after Robert but my fathers investigation proved that Stannis knew about the incest and did nothing but flee to Dragonstone, abandoning his brother. He has called the full might of the Royal fleet, his levies, and a storm of sellsails and sellswords, preparing for war. Betraying his kingly brother may be forgiven for he may have feared for his life but the black bastard has taken into his service a Red Witch who has burnt statues of the Seven alongside the men who refused to have them burned and surely means to do the same to all the godswoods and septs in the North. Will you have him for your King?"
"NO!"
"Renly has also betrayed his brother. He has sided with the Reach and my father told me Renly seeks to enter a marriage pact with Margaery Tyrell whose father seeks to make her a Queen. He leaves one brother to his fate and plans to attack the other. He's also a sword-swallower with no hope of making an heir, preferring to sleep with his would-be wife's brother instead, but still he lusts after the throne. Will you have him for your King?"
"NO!"
"How about the Whoremonger Robert. My father has served him loyalty for well over a decade and what does he have to show for it besides being wounded and soon to be killed. Not one favor was granted to the North in payment for the Rebellion or Balon's Folly. Not even one copper coin. He drinks and whore all summer long while taking our taxes and not fulfilling his responsibilities. Even all that I could bear, but a quick raven came this morning from one of my father's men in the capital. The King has gone off to hunt while my father rules for him even while injured. During said hunt he has become gravely wounded and shall not linger in the world much more. Will you have a stingy dead man as a king?"
Mummering broke out amongst the crowd with unease building within them. Many spit on Robert's name for his cheapness toward the North before they shouted
"NO!"
I had no issue slandering my enemies by saying things that were going to happen because by the time the lords hear of it from other sources they will simply think the news is delayed or the dates messed up. Few may think I know the future or lied and got lucky but it should be negligible.
"There are the Targaryens across the Narrow Sea but Viserys is his fathers child mad and cruel while Daenerys has married a viscous barbarian and would see the North burned and pillaged, our women raped, and our children esnalved just to put a crown on her head. That is not forgetting the blood debt they owe my house for what they did to my uncle and grandfather. Would you have a Targaryen for a King?"
"NO!"
"There are rumors in the east of a Blackfyre bastard pretending to be the son of Rhaegar Targaryen. He is of good temperament, character, and skill but what of it. If he is a Blackfyre damn him for our ancestors fought many a war against them and they are not owed our fealty. If he is the son of Rhaegar then damn him twice for what he did to my aunt Lyanna and for throwing the Seven Kingdoms into war. Will you have him for you King?"
"NO!"
"You cannot have a miserly dead man for a king, nor a wilding, nor an Ironborn, nor a burner of gods, nor an ill-born bastard, nor a sword-swallowing usurper, nor any mad Targaryen, nor a Blackfyre pretender."
The crowd was frenzied and whipped up.
"If we do not take them as king then each and every one of them shall seek to burn the North, savage our land so that we starve this winter, rape our women, kill our children, defile our gods, and break our lines that have survived the Long Night and thousands of years unbroken."
I let the words hang, then slammed my fist into my chest.
"But hear me now, my lords—we will not sit quietly. They will come one by one. They will come like wolves scenting blood. And if we kneel, if we hesitate, if we cling to southern crowns and southern lies, then the North will die with a whimper."
Growls rippled through the crowd. I pressed on.
"We are always told we are too few. Too cold. Too far. Too poor. Too backward. Too Northern."
I bared my teeth in a savage grin.
"They have been saying that for eight thousand years."
I spread my arms wide, gesturing to the godswood, the stone walls, the direwolf banner snapping proudly in the cold wind.
"Yet still the North stands."
Cheers broke out, raw and feral.
"When the Andals came with steel and seven-pointed stars, we broke them on our shores. When the Ironborn came with chains and axes, we drowned them in their own blood. When dragons came, we bent, but we did not break. And when winter itself tries to wipe us from the world, we endure."
Grey Wind and the other direwolves howled. The sound reverberated through bone.
"We are not southern knights chasing tourney glory. We are not Reach lords fat on harvests. We are not riverlords squabbling over bridges."
I leaned forward, voice dropping into a growl.
"We are Northern. The hardest men in the world. The people who bury our dead in frozen grounds and never stop marching."
A roar answered me.
"They will call us rebels for refusing to kneel to unworthy kings. They will call us traitors. Savages. Monsters."
I wiped Roose Bolton's dried blood from my cheek with two fingers and flicked it with disgust onto the pure white snow.
"Let them."
Silence fell again, heavy and absolute.
"I will not pretend this war will be easy. Many of you will die. Many more will bleed. Some of your sons will not return. But what of it? All men must die."
A few lords swallowed hard. No one looked away.
"But I swear this to you before the old gods and the new: no man of the North will die forgotten. Every name will be recorded. Every family fed. Every child sheltered. Every fallen lord rewarded and his line protected."
I straightened, voice rising.
"We will not fight for crowns. We will not fight for thrones. We will not fight for southern lies or broken oaths."
I drew my sword, Dark Sister gleaming menacingly, and planted the tip into the earth.
"We will fight for our homes. For our gods. For our children. For the right to live free beneath these cold skies."
The crowd trembled with contained violence now.
"So I ask you not as your liege, not as your lord, but as a son of the North—"
I swept my gaze across them all, half feeling an old power stir, something ancient and feral.
"Promise me that you will rage and rage and never surrender."
"Surrender. Never. Rage. Forever."
"My lords don't forget that you stand in a godswood watched by the Old Gods. No true Northman can lie in a godswood lest he damns himself. So I ask you to swear again but this time a blood oath that you shall serve my house with nothing but loyalty in the wars to come. Swear by blood and bone, by earth and water, by bronze and iron, and by ice and fire."
Some of the lords hesitated but when they saw that the Seven worshiping fat lord Wyman was the second to follow after Lord Reed and slit his palm everyone quickly followed repeating the oath.
The air seemed to ripple as blood was soaked up with the ground disappearing. Many lords kneeled in prayer not understanding what was happening but knowing something was.
"Let it be known that those who break this oath shall be given to a heart tree half-alive, have their line and lands attained and ended, and be condemned forever in history," I said pointing to the cooling corpses of the Boltons before continuing, "And let it be known that those who honor this oath shall in return be honored." I pointed to the rewarded lords.
I then raised my voice until it tore my throat raw.
"FOR THE NORTH REMEMBERS."
"THE NORTH REMEMBERS!" they thundered back.
I lifted my sword high.
"Then let the world hear us."
I took a breath and roared—
"WHO IS YOUR KING?"
For a heartbeat, the world held its breath.
Then the North answered.
"THE KING IN THE NORTH!"
"THE KING IN THE NORTH!"
"THE KING IN THE NORTH!"
"THE KING OF WINTER"
"MAGNAR OF THE FIRST MEN"
The chant shook the godswood. Men pounded shields, slammed spears, howled like wolves. And soon everyone knelt.
I alone stood amid the fury, bloodied, breathless, and smiling.
War was coming and this time, the North would not lose.
– – – – – – – – –
I found this story in my drafts and decided to post it. Undecided on whether to continue it.
Comments make the author happy.