Robb said stubbornly, "According to the law, his claim comes before Renly's."
Edmure asked, "So you mean we should pledge allegiance to Lord Stannis?"
Robb replied, "I don't know. I prayed to the gods, hoping they would show us the way forward, but they gave no answer.
The Lannisters claim my father was a traitor who murdered King Robert, and we all know that is a shameless lie. But if Joffrey is the rightful king and we rebel, then we truly become traitors."
The elderly Ser Stevron Frey revealed the Freys' signature weasel-like smile and said, "In the current situation my father would urge everyone to act with caution. Why not wait and see—let the two kings play their game of thrones?
After they have fought each other we can either submit to the victor or rebel—it will be our choice.
And right now Renly is…"
"Having raised an army, Lord Tywin will surely be eager to negotiate peace with us in exchange for the safe return of his son. My lords, let me go to Harrenhal to negotiate the terms of a truce and demand a ransom—"
A roar drowned out Ser Stevron's words. Greatjon Umber bellowed, "You coward!"
Lady Mormont also declared, "To beg for peace is to show weakness."
Lord Rickard Karstark shouted, "To the Seven Hells with the ransom! We cannot let the Kingslayer go free!"
Catelyn asked, "Why not negotiate peace?"
All the lords turned to stare at her.
Robb said sadly, "Mother, they murdered my father—your husband."
He drew his longsword and laid it on the table before him, the gleaming blade flashing against the rough wood.
"I will use this to negotiate with them."
Greatjon echoed loudly and the others joined in—some shouting, some pounding fists on the table, all drawing their swords.
After the cheers in the hall subsided Catelyn continued, "My lords, Lord Ned was your lord and colleague, but I shared his bed and bore his children. Was my love for him any less than yours?"
She was so overcome with grief she nearly lost her voice, but after taking a deep breath she forced herself to remain calm and said, "Robb, if a sword could bring him back to life I would never allow you to sheath it until Ned stood beside me again.
However, the dead are gone, and even a hundred victories in the Whispering Wood cannot change that fact.
Ned is gone, and…"
"Lyn Hornwood is gone, Lord Karstark's valiant son is gone, and so many others are gone—they will never return. Must we lose even more lives?"
Greatjon answered in a deep, resonant voice, "My lady, you are a woman, and women do not understand these things."
Lord Rickard Karstark, his face etched with sorrow, said, "Women are soft-hearted. Men need revenge."
Catelyn retorted, "Lord Karstark, hand Cersei Lannister over to me and I will show you just how soft-hearted a woman can be.
I may not understand tactics and strategy, but I know what futile efforts are. We went to war to stop the Lannister army from burning, killing, and looting in the Riverlands, and to rescue Ned—who was falsely accused and imprisoned. Our aim was to protect our lands and to free my husband."
She continued, "We have now achieved one goal, while the other will never be achieved. Although I will mourn Ned until the day I die, I must first consider the living.
I hope my two daughters will return safely; they are currently in the Queen Mother's hands. If I…"
"Four Lannisters must be exchanged for two Starks. I think that is a very good bargain, and I thank the gods for it."
She turned to Robb, her eyes filled with expectation. "Robb, I wish you a peaceful life—to succeed your father as Lord of Winterfell. I wish to see you live happily, kiss girls' lips, marry and have children. I wish to end all this."
Finally she expressed her desire to all the lords present: "My lords, I long to return home and to weep for my deceased husband until my dying day."
After Catelyn finished speaking the hall fell silent.
Lord Brynden spoke up: "Peace, Catelyn—peace is certainly desirable—but the key lies in the terms. What is the point of peace if we make peace today only to be forced to take up arms again tomorrow?"
Lord Rickard Karstark questioned, "If I can only return to Karhold with my son's bones, what value is there in my Eddard's death? Can Torren's severed hand grow back?"
Lord Jonos Bracken echoed, "Gregor Clegane burned my fields and slaughtered my people. Stone Hedge is now nothing but a charred ruin. How can I face the man who sent him—to bow and scrape? If everything could be so easily forgotten, why would we have fought so hard?"
Lord Tytos Blackwood, who had always been at odds with him, expressed a similar view: "Even if we make peace with King Joffrey, will we not become traitors in King Renly's eyes? If the lion and the stag fight and the stag wins, how will we face them?"
Ser Marq Piper declared firmly, "Whatever you decide, I will never recognize a Lannister as king."
The young Darry boy echoed, "Me neither! I will never!"
The crowd erupted into noise once again.
At that moment Greatjon Umber leaped to his feet and roared, "My lords! Listen to my opinion of these two kings!"
He took a deep swig from his cup. "Renly Baratheon and Stannis are nothing to me. Why should we be ruled by those who sit their thrones in Highgarden or Dorne?
What do they know about the Wall, the Wolfswood, or the wild lands of the First Men? Even their gods are not our gods. As for the Lannisters—let the Others take them! I have had enough!"
He reached over his shoulder, drew his greatsword, and continued, "Why can't we govern ourselves as we did before? We married the daughters of dragons, but now all the dragons are dead!"
Lord Umber pointed his sword at Robb, his voice booming, "My lords, I have no problem kneeling—but I will only kneel before this one king!"
He abruptly changed the subject: "Long live the King in the North!" Then he knelt, placing his greatsword at Robb's feet.
Seeing this, Lord Rickard Karstark also declared, "In that case I agree to a truce. Let them keep the Red Keep and the Iron Throne." He drew his longsword and placed it beside Greatjon's greatsword.
"Long live the King in the North!"
With that shout Greatjon's supporters knelt beside him.
Then Maege Mormont rose and proclaimed, "Long live the King of Winter!" placing her spiked mace beside the two swords as a sign of allegiance.
At that moment the Riverlands nobles rose in unison. Although Houses Blackwood, Bracken, and Mallister had never been directly ruled by Winterfell, they stood together, drew their swords, knelt, and shouted the ancient title that had been forgotten for three hundred years: "Long live the King in the North!"
With each shout a golden crown slowly appeared above Robb's head, gleaming in the dim hall.
The cheers grew ever more fervent. For the first time since Aegon the Dragon King unified the Seven Kingdoms the title "King in the North" had been proudly reborn in the wooden hall of Riverrun, echoing in every ear.
"Long live the King in the North!"
The cheers rose and fell, resounding throughout the hall.
Amid the jubilation the council slowly came to a close.
The noble knights left the hall in twos and threes, waving their fists, filled with excitement.
Ethan wanted to leave with the others, but Robb stopped him: "Captain Ethan—please wait a moment."
Ethan halted, turned, and answered respectfully, "Yes, Your Grace."
Robb looked at him and said, "You are neither a northern noble nor a Riverlands noble. I want to hear your opinion."
Ethan was somewhat surprised and asked, "About what?"
Robb replied, "About my becoming King in the North."
Ethan frowned, looking troubled. "Your Grace, this is not a matter for me to speak on."
But Robb shook his head and insisted, "I insist on hearing your thoughts."
Ethan had no choice but to say, "Very well, Your Grace. To be honest I am not very familiar with the historical traditions of Westeros.
But in my homeland there once was a great monarch who defeated countless rivals and established the Empire of Light.
He left behind a proverb: 'Build high walls, store up plenty of grain, and delay declaring yourself king.'
The meaning is to accumulate strength and wait for the right opportunity. Becoming king is a game in which the winner takes all and the loser perishes.
In this war there can be only one victor, and once it begins there is no turning back. This will be a difficult struggle—"
Ethan's words made Robb fall into deep thought. He unconsciously gripped the hilt of his sword. After a few breaths he said dryly, "Ethan—from the moment my father was declared a traitor by the Iron Throne there was no other possibility."
The hatred for the murder of one's father is irreconcilable.
Hearing that, Ethan bowed helplessly and said, "Your Grace, I will fight for you."
Robb nodded reservedly. "Thank you for your words, Captain Ethan."
Then Ethan left the hall. It was already late at night. The council had lasted all day and the castle was unusually quiet, with only a few servants still waiting outside the hall.
Upon seeing Ethan appear one of the servants immediately stepped forward and said respectfully, "Lord Ethan, your room has been prepared. Please follow me."
Ethan followed the servant to a narrow chamber.
Castles of this era could not compare to five-star hotels of later times—especially one built at a river fork. Moisture from the ground seeped into the rooms through cracks in the stone, making Ethan—who was accustomed to the dry climate of the North—feel somewhat uncomfortable. Nevertheless he had finally fulfilled his wish to spend a night inside a proper castle.
The next morning Ethan woke and prepared to leave Riverrun to rejoin his comrades. But as soon as he reached the city gate a servant stopped him:
"My lord, Lady Catelyn invites you to breakfast in the hall."
Ethan was puzzled. He had had very little interaction with Robb's mother, Lady Catelyn, and her indifferent demeanor in the godswood the day before had left a deep impression.
Yet considering he had given her no cause to be offended he answered politely, "It would be my honor. Please lead the way."
Guided by the servant Ethan arrived at the great hall of Riverrun.
He realized that Lady Catelyn—as a daughter of House Tully—had deliberately chosen the hall rather than her private chambers for breakfast.
"Lady Catelyn," Ethan greeted her politely.
"Captain Ethan—please sit," Lady Catelyn replied, instructing a servant to prepare the same breakfast for Ethan as for herself.
This was Ethan's first close observation of Lady Catelyn. The eldest daughter of House Tully possessed auburn hair, blue eyes, and long, slender fingers. Despite being the mother of five her beauty was no less striking than that of the sharp-tongued Queen Cersei.
After the servants brought the exquisite dishes—fried mushrooms in butter, beef chops, white bread, and wine—Ethan realized that noble food was indeed far more refined than the rough fare of the Silver Hand.
"I hope you enjoy this breakfast," Lady Catelyn said.
Ethan picked up fork and knife and began to enjoy the most refined breakfast he had eaten since arriving in this world.
When he had finished he wiped his mouth with the napkin offered by a servant and asked, "Lady Catelyn, thank you very much for this meal. Is there anything I can do for you?"
Lady Catelyn drained the red wine in her goblet, then asked seriously, "Ethan—may I call you Ethan?"
"Of course, as you wish, my lady," Ethan replied.
Then Lady Catelyn said solemnly, "My father, Lord Hoster Tully, is sixty years old. The years have weighed heavily upon him, making him unable to shoulder the responsibilities of a duke. My brother and I are deeply saddened by this."
Ethan asked with a hint of uncertainty, "Is Duke Hoster still alive?"
Lady Catelyn replied sadly, "Yes—but his time is running out. Ethan, can your magic restore my father's health?"
Ethan shook his head and explained, "Aging is not a disease, nor can it be compared to external injuries—"
Seeing the disappointment on Catelyn's face Ethan quickly added, "But perhaps I can try."
Upon hearing that a spark of hope flashed in Catelyn's eyes. "Truly?"
Ethan nodded. "Let me first examine the old duke's condition."
Catelyn then instructed a servant to fetch her brother Edmure Tully and led Ethan to a room on the east side of the main castle's top floor.
This chamber was Lord Hoster's study—shaped like the triangular castle itself. There was a stone balcony on the east side, upon which lay a small bed, and on the bed lay an old man with snow-white hair and a frail body.
A weak old voice sounded: "Catelyn—is that you?"
Lady Catelyn hurried to the old man's side and took his hand. "Father, it is I."
The old man asked again, "Lysa—did she not come with you?"
Catelyn replied, "Lysa is at the Eyrie with her son."
The old man sighed. "Yes—I married her to Jon Arryn. He was a powerful warrior in his youth."
"Yes—but he passed away last year. The current Lord of the Vale is Lysa's son."
Duke Hoster noticed the unfamiliar young man in the study and asked, "Is this Robb?"
Lady Catelyn quickly explained, "No, Father—Robb is now Lord of Winterfell. He is discussing strategy with his generals. This is Brother Lewis, the healer I invited for you."
She then turned to Ethan and said, "Brother Lewis, please examine my father."
"Yes, my lady." Ethan stepped forward and said to the attending servant, "Please bring me a chair."
The servant quickly brought a stool and placed it beside Duke Hoster's bed. After Ethan sat he said to the duke, "Lord Hoster, please extend your hand."
Lord Hoster Tully glanced at Ethan with cloudy eyes, then slowly extended his hand and said, "My boy, my body—I know it well. There are no immortal kings."
To gain the trust of the patient and his family Ethan imitated the movements of the old Chinese physician who had once prescribed medicine for him in his youth. He placed his index, middle, and ring fingers together and gently rested them on the old man's wrist, closing his eyes to feel the pulse.
Although the Tully family did not understand the meaning of these gestures they could see Ethan's professionalism and care from his expression.
After a while Ethan gently returned the duke's hand beneath the covers, stood up, and said to Catelyn and Edmure, "My lady, my lord—would it be convenient for you to step aside for a moment?"
The two nodded and followed Ethan into the corridor outside the room.
Ethan began, "My lady, Duke Hoster must have suffered many injuries in his youth, correct?"
Catelyn nodded. "Yes—my father was a high-ranking officer in the kingdom when he was young and often went to war."
Ethan continued, "The heart and arms are connected by blood vessels. The flow of blood in the body carries life-force to every part, allowing one to live in health.
He pressed his right hand against the artery in his own left wrist and raised it to show her. "You see—a young heart is strong and steady, while an old heart is weak and scattered. This is a sign of aging.
At Duke Hoster's age he should not be so frail, but because he suffered too many and too severe injuries in his youth—and did not receive timely treatment—his life-force has been excessively depleted."
He sighed. "This is an irreversible process and there is very little I can do. However I can help the old man repair some of his current hidden injuries so that he may at least feel a little more comfortable."
Lady Catelyn's expression changed with Ethan's words. Although she did not fully understand she grasped the helplessness and goodwill in his tone.
So she said earnestly, "If you can, please help him."
Ethan nodded, returned to Duke Hoster's side, and said to the old duke, "My lord, please relax and embrace the sunlight."
The old man smiled and nodded, murmuring, "Sunbathing—I have always loved it…"
Ethan closed his eyes, placed his right hand lightly against Duke Hoster's chest, raised his left hand high, and exaggeratedly declared, "Light is selfless, selfless and altruistic! Please embrace this upright old man with your broad mind, grant him health and strength, and may all things in the world receive your fair grace!"
To everyone's astonishment a strong beam of light suddenly appeared, enveloping both Ethan and Duke Hoster.
The old man's expression shifted from confusion to surprise and then to ecstasy; his body trembled slightly. Until the light gradually faded the old man finally fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.
When the last ray of light dissipated on the river breeze Ethan—seemingly exhausted and drenched in sweat—slumped weakly onto the stool.
Seeing this Edmure and Catelyn immediately went to the duke's side. After a careful examination they confirmed their father was simply sleeping soundly and were relieved.
Lady Catelyn said to Ethan in a sincere tone, "Captain Ethan, thank you for everything you have done for my father. At least he can have a good night's sleep tonight."
She turned to her brother and said, "Edmure, watch over Father. I have something to say to Captain Ethan."
Then she led Ethan into the corridor and dismissed the guards and servants around them. Lady Catelyn asked seriously, "Ethan—may I call you Ethan?"
"Of course, as you wish, my lady," Ethan replied.
Then Lady Catelyn said solemnly, "My husband's bastard son, Jon Snow, is now your student and an officer in your company—is that correct?"
Ethan nodded. Most of Robb's close guards already knew this, so he was not surprised that Lady Catelyn knew. "Yes—Jon is a very good lad," he added.
But Lady Catelyn was clearly more concerned with another question. She immediately followed up, "I have also heard that the teachings of your Sun God emphasize the equality of all men. Then tell me—in the eyes of the Sun God, do legitimate sons and bastards have the same rights?".
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