Chapter 87: Tracking the Bandits
Saelen and his group soon arrived at the village.
What greeted them was deathly silence, broken only by the crackling of flames. The houses had been completely destroyed, many still smoldering, thick smoke rising into the sky. Among the ruined walls lay the bodies of women and girls—stripped bare, violated, and left in horrifying states that were almost unbearable to look at.
The air was thick with the stench of blood. Wolves and stray dogs prowled among the corpses, tearing at flesh; many of the bodies had already been gnawed beyond recognition. As Saelen stepped deeper into the ruins, it felt as though he had walked into hell itself.
Jon's face had turned ashen with rage. He clenched his jaw, lips tight, saying nothing. Ygritte and Val, too, stood in silence, their expressions cold as they took in the scene.
The surviving villagers scattered in panic, searching desperately through the wreckage. Some collapsed beside the bodies of their loved ones, wailing in grief.
Saelen led his men to search the area. Aside from those who had escaped, everyone else in the village had been slaughtered.
"Kesso, Worrel," Saelen ordered, his voice steady, "they must have left traces when they fled. Take men and search the surroundings carefully."
"Yes, my lord."
The two quickly departed with their men.
Saelen then slipped into the body of a hawk and soared into the sky, scanning the surrounding land. Half an hour later, he had combed the entire area thoroughly, yet found no sign of the bandits. They had already fled far—and done so cleanly.
He returned to his body just as Kesso and Worrel came back.
"My lord, we searched everything nearby. Nothing suspicious," Kesso reported. "They were cautious. Any traces along the way have been deliberately erased."
Saelen nodded slowly. These were no ordinary bandits. Their awareness of counter-tracking was far beyond that of common raiders, who usually fled in haste after looting.
"Saelen," Jon said grimly, "they left no survivors. Only the headman's two daughters are missing. We didn't find their bodies nearby… they were probably taken."
Saelen fell silent. Being taken by bandits was often worse than death. The girls would likely suffer for days before being killed and discarded in the wild, their remains eventually devoured by beasts.
"I checked the granaries and cellars," Jon continued, his voice heavy. "Everything is gone. The food stores were burned. Without homes or food, these people won't survive the coming winter."
Saelen understood what Jon meant. At the same time, he thought of Castle Edd, which needed more labor.
"Kesso," he said, making a decision, "take five riders and escort these villagers back to Castle Edd."
"Yes, my lord."
At that moment, Ghost came running in from outside the village. The direwolf let out a few sharp howls at Jon, then grabbed his trouser leg and began tugging him toward the outskirts.
"Ghost, what is it?" Jon asked, confused.
Ghost pulled again, then released him and ran ahead. After a few steps, it stopped, turned back, and barked impatiently, urging him to follow.
Jon hesitated and looked at Saelen.
"We should follow," Saelen said. "Ghost must have found something. The bandits may have erased their tracks, but they can't erase their scent. As a direwolf, Ghost will pick it up."
Without waiting, Saelen mounted his horse and followed close behind. Jon, Val, Ygritte, and the others quickly did the same.
After leaving the village, Ghost led them south along the shores of Long Lake. From time to time, it would stop, sniff the air or ground to confirm direction, then glance back to make sure they were still following.
Saelen didn't remain idle. He continuously shifted into the bodies of hawks, scanning the surrounding terrain from above, searching for any clue.
They followed Ghost for an entire day. By the time dusk began to fall, the direwolf still showed no sign of stopping.
"Saelen," Jon said, riding closer, "if we keep going like this, we'll reach the area near Castle Edd. These bandits can't be foolish enough to target your lands, can they?"
Saelen frowned. The thought troubled him as well. His castle had over a thousand standing troops—anyone attempting to raid it would be walking straight into death.
"I don't understand their intentions either," he said quietly. "But I have a bad feeling about this. Tell everyone to stay alert."
Jon nodded and rode back to relay the order.
At that moment, Ghost stopped near a shallow stretch of water. It lifted its head, staring across the river, nostrils flaring as it caught the scent in the air. Then it suddenly turned and dashed into a nearby forest.
Moments later, urgent barks echoed from within.
Saelen immediately led the group after it. They pushed into the forest, and after only a few steps, they saw Ghost standing beneath a tree, barking furiously.
Saelen looked up.
Two young girls hung from the branches.
Their bodies were bound spread-eagle to wooden frames, which had been suspended from the tree, swaying gently in the wind.
The two girls were in a horrifying state. Their naked bodies were mangled beyond recognition, swarming with flies and vermin. But upon closer inspection, an even more chilling truth emerged—
Their skin had been flayed off while they were still alive.
What remained of them hung upside down from their feet, blood still dripping steadily to the ground.
Even Val and Ygritte, who had seen their share of brutality, turned their heads away, unable to look any longer.
"Flayers…?" Jon whispered, his voice trembling. "Could this be the work of House Bolton? I thought such cruelty had long been outlawed in the North…"
"It has been banned," Saelen said quietly, his gaze fixed on the grisly scene. "But that doesn't mean no one still practices it in secret."
The first name that came to his mind was Ramsay Snow—a man infamous for his sadism, who took pleasure in skinning people alive.
"I'd bet my life it's the Boltons," Worrel muttered with disgust. "No one else in the North would do something like this."
"Then why?" Jon asked, still struggling to understand. "Why would House Bolton act so openly? Aren't they afraid my father would punish them for defying House Stark like this?"
"Who knows?" Worrel replied bitterly. "Perhaps they've grown too arrogant, thinking no one would uncover their crimes. These so-called noble lords have never treated common folk as human. Beatings, torture—it's all just another day to them—"
Crack!
Saelen's whip lashed across Worrel's face, leaving a vivid red mark.
Worrel didn't dodge. He simply raised his head, clenched his teeth, and endured it.
"Let that be a lesson," Saelen said coldly. "Think before you speak."
Then, after a pause, he added, "Get up."
"Thank you, my lord. I will remember your words," Worrel said, bowing deeply.
What Worrel had said wasn't entirely wrong—but his words had been too broad, too reckless. Among allies, it might pass unnoticed, but if repeated elsewhere, it could cost him dearly. Saelen had to make sure he learned that lesson now.
Jon watched the exchange in silence. As a bastard himself, he had little attachment to the pride of noble houses. As long as House Stark itself wasn't directly insulted, he had no interest in defending such matters.
"Saelen," Jon said after a moment, "what do we do now? Do we keep tracking them?"
Saelen shook his head. "No. They've likely already crossed the river. Without boats, we can't pursue them on horseback."
He glanced at the bodies hanging from the tree.
"We'll preserve this as evidence and send it to Winterfell. Let Robb handle it."
If House Bolton was involved, this was no longer something he could decide alone. It had to be dealt with at the level of Winterfell. For now, his priority remained returning to Castle Edd and strengthening his own domain.
"Carefully," Saelen ordered as Worrel and the others began taking down the bodies. "Don't damage the evidence."
Just then, a sharp cry echoed from above.
The hawks circling in the sky let out urgent calls. Ghost stiffened, scanning the surroundings, a low growl rumbling in its throat.
Saelen and the others immediately drew their swords, eyes sweeping the silent forest.
Then—
A distant rumble.
Thud… thud… thud…
The sound of hooves grew louder and louder, approaching rapidly.
"Cavalry!" Saelen shouted, raising his greatsword, his expression turning grim. "Cavalry—stay alert!"