"Prince Gendry, my lords, we should rest for a short while, then head for The Eyrie under cover of night," Lord Nestor Royce said cooperatively. And so everyone settled down, and the mood between the blue-cloaked knights and their uninvited guests became cordial once more.
"The sky-blue cloaks of House Arryn really are beautiful," Gendry thought. "There is a melancholy shade to blue."
This was only an uninvited delegation forcing its way up to The Eyrie. Since they were merely going to reason with that madwoman Lysa, what did it have to do with the men here?
"A special operation against The Eyrie," Gendry thought. Another decapitation strike, and one of unusual difficulty. He would drive straight in, relying on the martial strength of everyone with him. The trouble was that this mission was exhausting. They had not stopped moving, passing through the Bloody Gate, taking the mountain roads, and now they still had to press on, from riding to climbing. With so many old men in Gendry's party, it was practically a trial by endurance for elders.
Still, Gendry felt that once they reached The Eyrie, there would be little to fear. The Eyrie, seat of the smallest of the great lords in the Seven Kingdoms, could hold five hundred people at most. Right now, there were not even that many in the castle. After all, the Gates of the Moon below had fewer than three hundred soldiers, and many of those within The Eyrie were servants with no strength to resist.
"Thank you for your cooperation. This is truly a family misfortune," Ser Blackfish Brynden Tully said.
"Who could have seen the poison hidden behind the sweetness? Almost all of us were deceived by her," Bronze Yohn said, consoling Nestor.
"Lord Jon valued me. I know that. But Lady Lysa... she never once gave me a pleasant look, and she even refused our proposals. I thought my service had failed to satisfy my mistress, but it seems Lady Lysa is even madder than I imagined..." Nestor thought. So that woman Lysa had not been unaware of his pride and greed after all. She had meant to give the Gates of the Moon to Littlefinger, or perhaps to the wretched child they might have together. At the thought that Lysa, that arrogant fool, might be swept out of The Eyrie, Nestor felt a secret pleasure.
"And that singer Lady Lysa favors, the one Lady Catelyn brought last time, he compared us to pigs," Ser Albar Royce declared angrily. "He wrote a song about two pigs living beneath the mountain, feeding all day on the falcon's scraps. Was that not plainly mocking us? When I accused him, he even answered back, 'What is it, Ser? It is only a song about pigs.' That was exactly what he said."
"That is exactly how he is," Lord Nestor confirmed, wisely leaving off the title of Lady. "A coward who only hides under a woman's skirts, arrogant and rude because of Lysa's favor. Do you know what she did? She dressed him up like a lord and gave him a golden arm ring and a belt set with moonstones."
"She was even about to give Lord Jon's favorite falcon to that singer," one knight said. "That was the Hand of the King's favorite bird, a gift from King Robert. If Lysa gave so many gifts to a singer, she must have given Littlefinger even more. After all, that post of Master of Coin..."
"These things are truly improper," Gendry said. "Lord Jon was a man of the greatest honor. We cannot allow anyone to defile the pure high tower."
Gendry looked at the discontented Nestor, his son, and the blue-cloaked soldiers. Lysa's standing among them was truly remarkable in the worst way. Most Vale men had reason to be dissatisfied. They resented the arrogant, rude widow who showed no care for Jon Arryn and did not even bother to pretend, and they resented that petty Littlefinger, drunk on his own rise.
"It is not a full moon tonight. Climbing the mountain through the night? That will be far too difficult," Ser Brynden said. The perilous height of The Eyrie was known throughout the world.
"It will be difficult, yes, but we have an experienced hand here," Lord Nestor said. "Though this guide is your..."
"I know," Gendry said.
Nestor had hot roast meat and grilled onions prepared so they could fill their bellies for the moment. Warm food with a little fat brought a sense of comfort.
The drawbridge of the Gates of the Moon was lowered as proof of Lord Nestor's sincerity and cooperation in standing aside. Ser Boggs also led part of the cavalry out of the shadows and into the Gates of the Moon, most of them men from Runestone.
After resting for a while in the rooms beyond the yard, it was time to climb to The Eyrie. If they truly had to fight, they would need their strength and focus. Nestor would also go up to The Eyrie to see the truth brought to light.
Gendry placed his long blade and warhammer beside him, guarded by Jon Snow. Jon was quick-witted and had been arranged below to handle any contingencies. Gendry felt he slept especially well that night. Once he woke, he would go seize the eagle by the throat and deal with that madwoman Lysa.
Though the rest was not long, it left them refreshed. Jon woke him, and the other warriors were ready to set out.
"This is Mya Stone, and she will be our guide. When Lady Catelyn came, she was the one who led the way," Nestor introduced solemnly in the courtyard after having the guide brought over. Stone was the bastard surname of the Vale of Arryn, just as Snow was in The North and Flowers in Highgarden. By custom, each of the Seven Kingdoms had its own surname for fatherless children.
"My lords, the mules know the way." A lean, sturdy girl of seventeen or eighteen came forward from the yard behind Lord Nestor. Her black hair was cut short, and she wore riding leathers and a light coat of silvered mail. The way she bowed to Gendry and the others was more graceful than her master's. Many people knew she was the king's bastard daughter, but the wind of the will had not yet blown over The Eyrie. Gendry felt he needed to push harder.
"My lords, I promise there will be no trouble. It is my honor to lead you up the mountain. I have walked this path hundreds of times in the dark. Mychel says my father must have been a goat."
Her confident tone carried a vivid sense of life. Mya could not forget Mychel. She was always thinking of the knight who would come marry her.
"Your father was a king, and perhaps a goat as well. The king certainly spent less time with her than a goat would have," Gendry thought as he looked at the girl, his sister by blood, King Robert's eldest daughter. King Robert had once wanted to take her to King's Landing. Fortunately, he had not. If he had, she might never have come back.
Gendry felt a pull of blood. Perhaps the girl was curious about him as well. After some thought, he decided that once The Eyrie was settled, they would naturally acknowledge each other.
Gendry left Jon, Dacey, Nestor's son, Ser Donnel Waynwood, Ser Boggs, and the others to guard the Gates of the Moon. He and Nestor would be among the six to climb first.
"Let us go," Nestor said. "Mya is a clever child. She swore she would bring us safely to Lysa, and I trust her. She has never disappointed me."
And so the group followed Mya through the castle. Six mules waited in the upper yard of the Gates of the Moon, ready to set off. A guard in a sky-blue cloak opened the narrow postern. Beyond it stood dense spruce and pine, and the mountain wall loomed like a black barrier. Sure enough, deep stone steps had been carved into the rock, leading straight upward into the sky.
"No torches, my lady?" Anguy asked.
Mya made a face. "Light torches and you will see even less. The weather is fine tonight. The moon and stars are enough, not to mention the Red Messenger. Mychel says I have owl eyes." Mya mounted and urged her mule onto the first step. The others' mounts followed on their own.
"Mychel is this child's lover," Ser Nestor added. Tonight, Nestor was risking everything, like a fat, sturdy ox.
Mya explained, "Mychel Redfort. He is Ser Lyn Corbray's squire. In a few years, when he becomes a knight, we will be married."
"I wish you happiness," Gendry said, looking at Mya. Her voice was so bright and sweet, carefree and full of dreams. That was good. To him, helping her would only take a raised hand.
"Thank you, my lord. You are very handsome, and the tallest warrior I have ever seen. Last time, I escorted Lady Catelyn, but she seemed rather weary." Mya looked at the tall young man chatting with her. He wore a smile, yet everyone seemed to follow his lead. He must be someone very noble.
The climb up the mountain proved easier than Gendry had expected, mostly because the first stretch was fairly manageable. The forest pressed close around them, reaching over the mountain path to form a rustling green canopy that even blocked out the moonlight, making it feel as if they were moving through a dark tunnel. But the mules walked steadily without the slightest sign of fatigue, and Mya truly did seem able to see in the dark.
They reached the first waycastle. Mya led them to Stone Waycastle, where solid stone walls bristled with iron spikes and two squat round towers flanked the main keep. At Mya's call, the gate slowly opened. The stout knight in charge called out Mya's name and had hot roasted meat waiting. There, they changed mules, needing fresh beasts with strength to spare.
After that, they mounted the new mules and set off again beneath the Red Messenger and the starlight. Each time they passed another fortress, the mountain path grew steeper. The incline sharpened, the stone steps were badly worn, and loose pebbles and broken rock littered the ground. At times, Mya had to dismount and clear the way herself.
"At this altitude, does it not shorten a man's life?" Gendry even wondered whether House Arryn's short lifespans might have something to do with living so high above the world. At such a height, could children truly grow up healthy?
The second castle was Snow Waycastle. Each level upward meant higher ground, harsher air, and smaller fortifications. The trees thinned, the wind strengthened, and the castles grew more modest. Snow Waycastle was far smaller than Stone Waycastle, little more than a reinforced tower, a wooden main keep, and stables tucked behind a low stone wall. The walls were roughly built and had not even been plastered.
"Won't you come warm yourselves by the fire?" The commander here was a young knight with a pockmarked face and a restless manner. He offered them bread and cheese and invited them to warm themselves at his hearth, but Mya politely refused. They changed mules again.
"Layer upon layer of natural defenses. But supplies are a problem, and there are not many defenders either," Gendry thought. If an enemy wanted to take The Eyrie, they would have to fight their way up step by step from Stone Waycastle, all while enduring arrows and falling stones raining down from Snow Waycastle. But any enemy who tried such a thing would have to be a fool.
Above Snow Waycastle, the wind came like a blade, cutting at their faces, and howled like a beast trying to sweep men into the ravines. Fortunately, there was no ice or snow on the steps, but it was frightening enough as it was. One wrong step, and a man could fall from the sky.
"What a beautiful night," Gendry thought. He had never seen a night like this in King's Landing. Cold, aloof, and for centuries, a night that had belonged only to House Arryn. The stars seemed close enough to touch. The moon hung beautifully in another part of the sky. And there was the Red Messenger, like a bleeding wound across the heavens.
"My mother said that hundreds of years ago, this was the snow line," Mya told them. "From here upward, everything was white, and the ice and snow never melted." She shrugged. "We are still far from the summit. I do not remember ever seeing snow here, but perhaps it was like that in ancient times."
"Child, you have spent most of your life in summer, but winter is coming," Ser Barristan said.
Gendry and the others had finally reached the most dangerous part of the journey. Above Snow Waycastle lay the worst road of all. The path from Snow Waycastle to Sky Castle was treacherous, and often fully exposed to the raging wind.
Gendry saw a platform of solid stone, perhaps twenty feet long and three feet wide, with bottomless drops on both sides. They had no choice but to dismount and lead the mules across.
Gendry felt as if he had come upon one of the wonders of the world, something so absurd it defied the heavens. "What kind of place does House Arryn live in? Next time I come, I had better come on a dragon."
At last, they reached the third waycastle, Sky Castle. It might have been the highest of the three, but it was also the simplest. Sky Castle was little more than a crescent-shaped high wall of rough stone built along the mountainside.
Mya and Nestor greeted the guards, and the gate opened before them. By then, the eastern dawn had grown brighter, since they had rested for a while at the Gates of the Moon.
Behind the wall was a series of slopes, with rocks of every size balanced precariously. Gendry suspected they would tumble down with the slightest push. A passage had been cut into the rock face ahead, with the stables and barracks inside. The snow line began here. Frost clung to the walls, and long icicles hung from the slopes above.
"So the snow line begins here. But when winter comes and the snow line sinks lower, these people will surely have to go back down the mountain. Littlefinger giving the Gates of the Moon to Nestor is truly selling another man's inheritance without a care," Gendry thought. After all, would a king ever give away his own main castle?
"At last," Anguy said, shaken. This was what it felt like to climb a perilous tower alone.
The final stretch lay inside the mountain. It was somewhat dark, but at least they were spared the wind and snow. The mules could go no farther. From here, they had to either climb or take the winch.
"Is House Arryn made of eagles? They fly this high?" Anguy looked up. Directly above them, in the pale light of dawn, he could see the foundation stones of The Eyrie, no more than six hundred feet away. From below, it looked like a tiny white beehive.
"Forget it. Let us take the winch," Blackfish suggested. Once they reached The Eyrie, they would need to preserve their strength for whatever came next.
The Eyrie lowered a basket, and they rode the winches up one by one, arriving at The Eyrie like supplies.
By then, the sun had risen high. A sturdy man with silver hair, wearing a sky-blue cloak and a breastplate marked with the crescent falcon, helped Ser Brynden out of the basket. He was Ser Vardis Egen, captain of Jon Arryn's guards. Several other blue-cloaked guards stood with him.
"Ser, you have brought quite a few people with you." The smile on Ser Vardis's face suddenly turned strange as the basket emptied one after another.
Aside from Blackfish Brynden and Lord Nestor, the others, Bronze Yohn, Barristan the Bold, black-haired Gendry, and red-haired Anguy, all stepped out of the basket and appeared before him. At last, Vardis realized something was wrong.
"What is the meaning of this?" Vardis asked. He had spent many years in King's Landing and naturally recognized some of them, especially now that they were all armed and armored.
"Nothing much. We wish to see Lysa."
"No." Vardis's voice turned cold. "The others are not Lady Lysa's guests. Ser Barristan is a traitor to the Iron Throne, and Lord Yohn is a traitor to the Vale. If the Iron Throne learns of this, the consequences will be grave."
"Oh, I am a traitor to the Iron Throne as well. What right does the Iron Throne have to condemn me? It is nothing but a nest of traitors." Gendry stood before the blue-cloaks, his handsome, masculine face framed by black hair and blue eyes.
"It is you, Ambitious Gendry. I should have known a White Knight would not come on his own. My mistake for not recognizing that young king's face."
"I am no traitor, my lord. Lysa is the traitor, the traitor who poisoned Lord Arryn. You had best announce us. I wish to see the Great Lord's mother and Regent."
"You lie." Captain Vardis could not believe it. The blue-cloaks broke into an uproar as the shadow of rumor turned real before them.
"It is true." Blackfish nodded. "No one speaks lightly of treason. Jon had been healthy before, yet he died for no clear reason."
"You are the Lady's uncle," Vardis said with a frown.
"Not anymore. Lysa has already been cast out of House Tully by my brother."
"I swear it in my own name," Gendry said, looking at Vardis. "The rightful heir to the Iron Throne."
"Then come. For now, you barely count as our guests." Vardis's face was livid. "Let the gods above see which of you is lying. If you have lied, you will be thrown from The Eyrie."
They left the winch room and climbed the spiral stairs. The Eyrie was not large, merely seven white towers clustered together like arrows in a quiver, perched atop the mountain peak. Though it had no stables, smithy, or kennels, its granaries were as large as Winterfell's, and its towers could hold five hundred men. Yet as Gendry passed through, he found the castle strangely desolate. The white stone halls echoed around them, empty and silent.
High as honor, high as loneliness.
"The Lady is on the balcony," Vardis said with an unfriendly look. "You are the first claimant to the throne to arrive, though Lady Lysa will not be pleased."
Lysa's chambers stood above a small garden. The garden was round, ringed by white high towers, with blue flowers planted among the soil and grass. Weirwoods could not grow here, so the Great Lords over the years had planted lawns instead and set statues among flowering shrubs.
Lysa had just finished washing and changed into a cream-colored velvet gown. Around her milky throat hung a necklace of jade and moonstone, and she was presiding over a gathering on the open balcony.
She was surrounded by attendants, knights, and lords great and small. Most of them still nursed hopes of marrying her, bedding her, and ruling the Vale of Arryn at her side.
"What exactly are you trying to do, Uncle?" The moment Lysa saw Brynden and the men beside him, her face fell.
"You brought them here without permission, without even a word of warning, dragging us into their quarrel with the Lannisters. Robert's bastard, a traitor of the Kingsguard..."