Chapter 10: Winterfell
Ten days later, Saelen and his party arrived at Winterfell, dust-covered and travel-worn.
After handing over the glass to Winterfell's steward, Vayon Poole, Saelen casually pulled out ten gold dragons and tossed them to Tarly.
"Take the men," he said. "Drinks, taverns, brothels—enjoy yourselves."
A roar of cheers erupted at once.
"Long live Lord Saelen!"
Laughing and shouting, the cavalry headed toward the market district.
Gendry took custody of the wildling woman, Osha, from Tarly's hands and watched the departing soldiers with unmistakable envy.
Saelen shot him a sideways glance and snorted.
"What—want to go too?"
"No, my lord," Gendry replied awkwardly. "I'm still too young."
"Oh?" Saelen raised an eyebrow. "You didn't say no. Sounds like you want to."
He grinned teasingly.
"Relax. Men are men—it's only natural. Once Lord Eddard finishes questioning her, I'll give her to you as a reward."
Gendry glanced at Osha and immediately waved his hands in refusal.
"No need, my lord."
Osha had cleaned herself up and changed clothes—she looked passable now—but Gendry clearly had no interest.
Osha showed no reaction to Saelen's joke, only lowering her head and staring at the ground.
Saelen chuckled, bored, and headed toward the castle.
Just then, Robb and Jon came hurrying out from inside, faces lit with excitement. They embraced Saelen, the three laughing and roughhousing for a moment before making their way toward the Great Hall together.
They entered the hall still joking and talking.
Eddard Stark was already seated at the high seat. Theon Greyjoy stood behind him, while Maester Luwin and Ser Rodrik Cassel sat on either side.
Saelen stepped forward and bowed to Eddard, then moved to stand beside Robb.
At that moment, Jon Snow instinctively turned, preparing to leave the hall.
Saelen spoke up at once.
"Lord Eddard, let Jon stay. What we're about to discuss concerns him as well."
Jon halted mid-step and looked at Saelen in confusion. Saelen, however, merely met Eddard's gaze with a calm expression.
Eddard frowned slightly, then nodded.
"Very well. Jon, stay."
Jon inclined his head and remained where he was, saying nothing.
"Saelen," Eddard asked with concern, "how was the journey? Did everything go smoothly?"
"Aside from the roads being difficult, everything went well," Saelen replied. "Transporting the glass took extra time."
The roads had been a nightmare. Riding horseback was manageable, but hauling wagons was another matter entirely—mud everywhere, frequent snowfall even in summer, entire stretches nearly impassable. The trip had taken nearly twice as long as expected.
I'll have to speak with Lord Eddard about building a proper road between Castle Edd and Winterfell, Saelen thought.
He then gestured toward the woman beside him.
"My lord, this is the wildling I captured while tracking raiders some time ago."
He nudged Osha forward.
"Go on. Tell Lord Eddard everything you told me."
After a moment's thought, he added gently,
"Don't worry. Lord Eddard is a man of honor. He won't make things difficult for a woman."
Osha knew she had no choice.
After a brief pause, she repeated everything she had said before. When she finished, the council hall fell utterly silent. The faces around the table were grave as they exchanged uneasy looks.
Only Theon Greyjoy broke the silence with a snort.
"Others? Giants? Wildlings?" he scoffed. "Saelen, are you sure you didn't capture a minstrel instead? And a female one at that?"
He laughed loudly.
"This is ridiculous. I'll grant you're strong, Saelen—but you're still a child. This is far too easy to believe."
"You gathered everyone here just so we could listen to bedtime stories everyone already knows?"
Saelen stared at Theon in disbelief.
The world is about to burn, he thought darkly, and you're still laughing.
Laugh while you can. When you lose Little Theon, we'll see if you're still smiling.
Maester Luwin spoke cautiously.
"My lord, the ancient records do mention the Others—but the accounts are extremely old and vague. There's no way to verify their truth."
"As for the wildlings, however, the records are far clearer."
"Three hundred years ago, King-Beyond-the-Wall Raymun Redbeard led a vast host. He bypassed the Wall by scaling the western mountains and entered the North, but was ultimately defeated at the Nightfort by King Torrhen Stark."
"A hundred years ago, another wildling king—
Bael the Bard—also bypassed the Wall. Legend says he rode a great shaggy mammoth across the frozen sea, traveled deep into the North, and left a winter rose in Winterfell."
At this point, Maester Luwin cast a peculiar glance at Eddard before continuing.
"Compared to the uncertain tales of the Others, my lord, the wildlings pose a very real and immediate threat."
"If they intend to attack the North, they will likely follow the same routes as their predecessors. We need only reinforce those areas."
Eddard nodded in agreement.
"Maester Luwin speaks wisely. The stories of the Others have been told for eight thousand years, yet no one has ever confirmed them."
"Rather than worry over distant legends, the threat of the wildlings is tangible."
"Winter is coming. The long summer is ending. If the North is attacked by a wildling host at such a time, it would be disastrous—for us, and for our people."
The others nodded in assent.
Saelen understood then: without seeing them with their own eyes, no one would believe the Others had truly returned.
"Father," Robb spoke up, "if the wildlings are gathering somewhere beyond the Wall, the brothers of the Night's Watch should know."
"Winterfell hasn't received any warning from Castle Black."
Eddard frowned, troubled.
That question had plagued him as well. In the past, whenever there was unrest beyond the Wall, Lord Commander Mormont would send word immediately.
A large wildling host should have been impossible to conceal.
So why had the Watch remained silent?
Saelen looked at Eddard and reminded him quietly,
"Lord Eddard, do you remember what happened to you more than ten years ago?"
"Hundreds of wildlings crossed the Wall and penetrated deep into the North—and the Night's Watch had no idea."
"If you hadn't sent a raven to Castle Black yourself, they might not have known even then."
That incident had been terrifying.
First, the ambush by hundreds of wildlings. Then, not long after, an attack by hundreds of well-armed bandits.
In the end, only Eddard, Saelen, and a dozen others escaped alive.
The wildlings were eventually hunted down—but the bandits vanished without a trace.
To this day, not a single clue had ever been found.