Robb wanted a platform inside his fort.
He stood on an overturned basket, looking over the willow hurdle Tomas held upright. He could see across the cut barley as far as the mill road. He could also look down on Jon, which he was plainly enjoying.
"I could see everything they were doing."
"Until someone pushed the wall. Get down; Tomas cannot hold it all morning."
Robb stepped off reluctantly. Jon knelt to work the cord through the frame with his left hand. His right was still wrapped, and Arthur watched from the path whenever he tried to use it.
"Robb!"
Cley Cerwyn came running from the path, his red hood fallen back and crumbs on his coat. He caught Robb round the neck; Robb caught him back, and they returned to the fort shoulder to shoulder. Lord Medger's son had escaped while his father talked grain with Eddard.
"Which is ours?" Cley asked.
Robb pointed. Cley pushed through the opening and laid both hands against the wall. Tomas caught it as it leaned.
"It is not fixed yet," Jon warned.
"I can see that." Cley came back out.
Cley laid his cloak on the basket and took the loose willow rods. Tomas showed him how to turn the ends without splitting them. He had broadened through the shoulders since the choosing; his straight dark brows drew together whenever Cley bent a rod too sharply.
"Do all your household grow like that?" Cley whispered to Jon.
"They eat like it."
Theon joined them with an apple and a clean coat. Robb called him over to hold the far post, then introduced Cley when he noticed his friend studying the silver kraken. Theon offered the apple; Cley took a second bite before returning it.
"Leave me some."
Oren brought the stakes. Arthur braced the end of the wall while Tomas drove the first one, and they had it upright before Lord Medger came looking for his son. Robb set his basket inside the wall and climbed onto it. Arthur shook the upper rail; Robb grabbed it to keep his balance.
"I could brace it."
"You could fall on the stakes. Down."
Robb took the basket out himself and sat on it beside Cley. Jon joined them.
"I still want somewhere to see from."
"Stand farther back. Let the others hold the front."
"They will think I am hiding."
"You can come forward when you are needed. You need not fight every boy yourself."
Robb drank from Jon's flask without taking his eyes from the wall. Medger listened to his account of the game, then asked Arthur whether he meant to let them batter one another with real shields.
"Under Rodrik's rules. He will stop them if they forget."
"They will forget." Medger smiled at Cley and sent him to wash. His older sister Jonelle waited on the path, pointing to the cloak he had left behind. He went back for it while the men returned to their grain carts.
* * *
By the middle of the week, Poole had fitted two more tables into the hall. Bread and roasting onions scented the warm air; above the new places, men hung the Dustin banner beside the Ryswell horse. Lady Barbrey had brought Marna to Catelyn, and Sansa was trying to finish her greeting quickly enough to tell her friend something. Roderick Dustin had already escaped to Robb.
Jon sat beside his brother and reached for bread. Wylla caught his wrist. A red mark showed near the thumb of his bandage. She moved his cup to the other side and went to find Arthur.
"Does it hurt?" Robb asked.
"Only when I use it."
"You keep using it." Robb tore the bread and put the larger piece in Jon's bowl.
Across the table Benfred Tallhart was describing his horse. "He has beaten every horse I have put him against."
Hallan Hornwood leaned past Daryn, his older cousin. "Was the other rider trying?"
"Race my grey," Robb challenged him. "He will give yours a chase."
Benfred appealed to his father. Lord Helman would permit it if Hullen judged the horses fit to race together. Until then, he could eat his supper. Lady Donella passed the onions to her son Daryn, whose sleeve scarcely covered his wrist.
Roderick asked whether Tomas, the boy who had shown Cley how to weave the wall, would play.
"He is in my household," Jon said. "He and some of the others."
"He is older than us."
"So is Benfred. Rodrik will see that the numbers are fair."
Daryn asked how a boy was put out of the game. "Take the ribbon from his arm," Jon said. "He has to kneel until someone on his side ties it back on." Hallan tucked his arm close to his side to hide his.
"Above the elbow, where it can be seen," Jon told him.
"But if I stand like this—"
"Then you cannot use your shield." Daryn took the bread from his cramped hand. Hallan snatched for it, and Robb laughed so hard that Catelyn turned to look. Jon waited for her to turn away before giving Hallan another piece. "Try it in the yard tomorrow."
Arthur came to sit below Jon, bringing Willam Dustin with him. Willam kept a hand on the knight's shoulder while he bent to hear something Arthur was saying. When he straightened he was laughing, and he called to Mark Ryswell to come and deny it. Mark stayed where he was and raised his cup.
Jon watched Arthur laugh with Willam. So much of the knight's time went to Jon's lessons and ailments that it was easy to forget he had friends of his own. He was glad Willam had come.
Galbart Glover brought a hesitant boy to the bench. "Niall, my young kinsman. His father has lent him to me for the journey."
Robb made room. Niall helped himself sparingly until Willam told him the kitchen had more. Asked about his shield, he forgot to be shy; Daryn leaned across to compare grips, and soon Niall no longer looked at Galbart before answering.
Sansa and Marna came down from the dais. "Mother says you are to speak to Lady Barbrey," Sansa told Robb.
"I have spoken to her."
"She asked you a question. You ran away."
Barbrey was watching. Robb put down his bread and went, brushing his coat, with Marna delightedly following. Sansa stayed to ask about the Manderly girls.
"They have a longer road," Jon said. "You will have time with them." Sansa hurried after Marna.
Theo Wull arrived with Torren Norrey and the two nephews who had played the feather game. Beren waved across the hall to Robb, who was still beside Lady Barbrey. His elder brother, Benfred Norrey, caught his coat and sent him to bow to Eddard first.
Robb came back as Benfred Tallhart shifted along the bench to make room for the newcomers.
Theo brought another boy forward: Harl Wull, Hugo's second son, with cropped brown hair. He changed hands to greet Jon without touching the bandage.
"Are those your forts by the road?" Harl asked Robb. "Brandon would not let us stop."
Brandon Norrey, fourteen and thick-wristed, looked up from his bowl. His nose had healed crooked. "It was raining."
"We were wet already."
Edrik Flint, beside him in a damp sheepskin vest, passed the bread. "And starving. Can we pull the walls down?"
"You can try. Jon made us drive the stakes twice as deep." Robb reached for a spoon to show him the line of the fort. Niall leaned closer to see where the gaps lay.
Jon turned back to Niall's questions about the black flag. By the time Wylla checked his bowl, he had eaten it empty.
* * *
The next morning Hullen let Robb take his grey out to the riding field, provided he walked it first. Robb lasted as far as the stable door before beginning to explain why a little trot would do no harm. Theon followed with his own reins in one hand, listening with the interest of someone who meant to benefit if the argument succeeded.
Jon was waiting outside when Roose Bolton crossed the yard with Eddard. Robb stopped to greet them. The lord of the Dreadfort laid a pale hand on his shoulder and bent to hear him; Eddard looked back towards the stable and beckoned to a boy leading a bay courser.
"Your son tells me he has brought a horse to beat ours," Eddard said.
"He had better know its worth, then," Roose answered. His voice was quiet enough that Jon had to listen for it.
Robb grinned and turned to the boy. "Come and show them."
He brought him over while the men went into the keep. "Jon, this is Domeric Bolton. He has been at Redfort. Domeric, my brother Jon."
Domeric offered his hand. Jon took it with his left.
The name had brought back the story before the boy finished his greeting: the courteous heir, a sudden illness, the bastard called home to take his place. Jon had never known Domeric alive in the history he remembered. Here he stood with dust on his boots and a small horsehair caught in his sleeve, asking whether Jon meant to ride against them.
"Not with this." Jon showed the bandage. "Theon Greyjoy will, if Hullen gives him leave."
Theon gave his own greeting and went to look at the bay. Domeric moved with him, keeping a loose hold on the reins. He was long-faced, with none of his father's stillness. When the grey reached towards his horse, he drew them apart before either could bite.
"Does he always do that?"
"Only when Robb lets him," Jon said.
Robb shortened his reins. "He would not have reached."
"He meant to try." Domeric rubbed the bay's neck and asked about the course. Jon pointed out the mill road, but Robb was already describing its turns and the place where the ground began to rise. Theon listened, then asked whether anyone else had brought a horse worth racing.
"Harrion will have one," Domeric said. "He is better with a bow."
"So I hear." Theon glanced towards the lower butts. "I shall ask him for a match."
Hullen came out before Robb could mount and looked at the three horses standing nose to tail. He separated them with a word to each rider, then sent the boys to walk the course. Jon went with them. At the first turn he stepped aside while Domeric dismounted to feel the ground with his boot.
"It holds here," Domeric said. "What is it like above?"
"Drier," Jon told him. "But take the outside of the upper turn if there has been rain."
"It is farther," Robb objected.
"You can keep your pace." Jon pointed to the ruts on the inside. "There you must slow."
Domeric looked along both lines, then mounted again. He asked Robb to show him the rest. Theon let them go ahead and stayed beside Jon, leading his horse at a walk.
"Your brother has been telling everyone how he means to win."
"He has told me most often."
"I should like to see his face if that bay beats him."
Jon smiled. "Tell him that, and he will make you ride the course until dark."
The Manderly wagons had reached the gate when they returned. One had sunk beside the kerb, blocked by a barley cart. Wynafryd and her younger sister Wylla clung to the seat while men heaved at the wheel.
"Bring the girls down first," Jon called to the driver.
A guard helped them clear while Hullen held the team. Jon sent the barley cart back into the other yard. Once it had moved, the horses could turn and the men had room to lift. Cley Cerwyn joined the grooms at the rear; Robb and Theon kept the loose mounts back. The wagon came free with a lurch.
Wylla Manderly ran to Sansa and Marna. Wynafryd thanked the guard before following. Behind them came Wyman's litter, with his sons Wylis and Wendel urging the rest of the wagons through.
* * *
By the week's end the guest stables were full. Jon had given up finishing his work before Robb called him to the field and made the visitors help instead. Smalljon lifted hurdles beside Tomas while the Karstarks disputed Robb's choice of shields.
"Find one that fits you," Eddard Karstark told Torrhen. He turned to Robb. "I should like another bout when you are ready."
Jon clasped Eddard's hand and asked after the journey from Karhold. They had come down with the Umbers, though Torrhen insisted they could have arrived sooner without the wagons.
"Father meant to travel with the wagons. You heard him before we left." Harrion, the eldest and tallest, carried a bow. He had their father's long face and the same blue-grey eyes as his brothers.
Torrhen fell silent. Then Theon came across the yard with his bow, and Robb proposed the lower butts before either archer could ask. Eddard protested that they had been about to use the swords. Jon sent for Harwin and went with them. From the gallery Alys Karstark lifted a hand to Robb, her brown braid forward over one shoulder.
Harwin cleared the path behind the butts. Theon's first arrow struck close to the middle; Harrion's went higher but nearer the mark. After three shafts each, Theon had the closer group. Harrion pointed out his best shot twice on the walk to fetch them.
"Then loose three like it," Theon said, handing it to him by the shaft.
Jon had watched Theon's drawing hand return to the same place against his cheek. He asked about it while Harrion went back to the line.
"Dagmer would stand beside me and put his finger here." Theon touched the corner of his mouth. "I used to draw farther when I wanted to shoot harder. The arrows went everywhere."
He passed Jon the bow without an arrow. Jon held it in his sound hand and felt the balance, leaving the string alone.
"When the cut has closed," Theon said. "You pull with that one."
"I know." Jon gave it back. "Harrion is waiting for you."
Harwin halted the shooting for servants crossing behind the butts with bedding. Dacey Mormont followed, carrying her cloak; Alysane argued that the saddlebags belonged in their mother's room. By the stair, Jorelle and Lyra waited for Maege.
"We thought you would miss it," Robb called.
"So did Mother." Jorelle embraced him and greeted Jon. "We waited on the coast for days."
"And complained for every one." Maege pointed at the bundles. "Find your beds first."
Lyra was back soon enough to hear Robb describing Smalljon's reach. She wanted to wrestle him. Maege told her to ask Rodrik, and to take no for an answer if he gave it. Beside the stair Arya and little Lyanna Mormont had met over three wooden cups; each falling stack brought delighted laughter.
That evening Jon walked beyond the winter town palisade with Arthur. The guests' tents spread across the slope, cookfire smoke hanging over them. At the Norrey fire a place was cleared and broth offered. Jon accepted a little though he had eaten already. Theo joined them, and Jon asked about the mountain rivers. The men soon disputed the safest fords and whose mill stood below each crossing. When Arthur rose, their host made Jon promise to remember the invitation if he came that way.
At the next fire Theon called Jon into his dispute with Harrion over the third arrow.
"He says the wind took it."
"It may have. Yours were lower."
Harrion held out a hand as though that settled everything. Theon disagreed, and Cley's account of his own shooting found no more agreement. Jon sat beside Daryn, clear of the cups, while Eddard Karstark returned with Torrhen and a stool borrowed from their father's tent.
Jon returned to the keep smelling of woodsmoke. Wylla had water waiting and made him wash the soot from his neck. When she drew the brush through his hair, the white lock came forward over her hand. "Hold still, love. You have brought half a hedge home." Jon bent his head and let her work the burrs loose while he told her where Theo said the best trout could be caught.
Later, when Wylla had gone, Jon sent for Arthur. He waited until the door was closed.
"How well do you know Lord Bolton?"
"Less well than Ned does. Why?"
"I have dreamed of him."
Arthur pulled the chair away from the wall and sat. "Tell me."
"His voice. Someone calling for help. I can't see much of the place." Jon looked past him at the shutter. "It was worse when I saw him beside Robb in the yard."
"Was Robb in it?"
Jon nodded. Roose's name had been in the black book since the earlier harvest. Jon kept the wedding, the broken guest right and the deaths he remembered out of his answer. He disliked borrowing the authority of dreams with a man who had served Rhaegar.
"At the last harvest, you would hardly go near him," Arthur said at length.
"There is a name as well. Ramsay. I think he is another son."
"Roose has a bastard?"
"There is a mill beside a river. I don't know the boy by sight."
Arthur rested his forearms upon his knees. "Willam may know something of him."
"Ask quietly."
"I will." His eyes stayed on Jon's face. "What of Domeric?"
Jon had liked the older boy's easy talk with Robb, the care he took with his horse. "I don't think he is safe with them. I would rather he stayed at Redfort."
"Willam first," Arthur said. "Leave that to me. And if you dream of them again, wake me."
At noon the next day Wyman had his litter brought to the gate tower to see the clock. Pate stood beneath it with his unused bell rope coiled. As the hammer struck, a Karstark man climbed three steps in search of a hidden bellman.
"Jon made it," Robb announced.
Heads turned. Jon beckoned Mikken closer. "Mikken, Woods, Olyver and Mallon made it with me. Pate keeps it running."
"You set the teeth yourself?" Wyman asked.
"Olyver and I filed them after Mikken forged the wheels."
"So Osric wrote. I accused him of drinking before he took up his pen." Wyman laughed, his pale blue eyes almost lost in the folds about them. "I have a man to keep mine. Shall I send him here now?"
"Pate can teach him while we finish it."
Wylis rubbed his bald head. "And when something breaks? A stopped clock may wait a moon for its maker."
Mikken answered that. Wyman's smith could replace the common fittings from patterns sent with the clock; a damaged wheel would have to come back. The older lord listened, then sent Wylis to speak to Pate about the keeper. Other guests pressed closer to see through the rail.
Domeric had remained by his father. He was not staring at the clock. He was looking at Jon's hidden hand. "Did you hurt that making the clock?" he asked when Roose turned away.
"A slip at the bench. I opened it again with the sword grip."
"Then let your other hand earn its keep today." Domeric smiled.
"Come and see the forts." Robb thrust himself between them. Before Domeric could answer, a salt-stained rider entered the yard and asked Martyn for Ser Arthur. Martyn took the packet he offered. Beneath Ethan Glover's covering letter was an older one, sealed with the bat of House Whent. He looked up sharply.
Eddard took the rider's bridle himself. "Food first. Then the guest solar."
Arthur had gone still beside Jon. Willam Dustin and Mark Ryswell came from opposite sides of the yard, all three watching the old seal in Martyn's hand. Robb watched the men gather. "What did he bring?"
"A letter from Dragonstone." Eddard turned the horse towards a waiting groom. "You will hear it later, Jon. Go with Robb for now." Jon glanced at Arthur, then followed his brother towards the barley field.
* * *
Martyn shut the solar door and sent the waiting servant away. Theo Wull barred the shutters. Eddard set Ethan's letter on the table while Arthur stood opposite, with Willam Dustin and Mark Ryswell at either end. The rider sat beside a bowl of broth, fighting to keep his eyes open. "Where did Ethan find this?" Eddard asked.
"A boatman from Planky Town brought it to Dragonstone, my lord. He was there to sell a storm-damaged cog. When he heard Lord Glover knew Ser Arthur, he asked to see him alone."
Mark put out a hand. "What did he see?"
"Two knights came to the cove before the king's patrol closed that part of the coast. One old and broad, one with a bat on his clasp. The boatman rowed them out to a merchant ship. The younger gave him this for Ser Arthur, if ever he found a safe way to send it."
The rider laid the folded skin beside Ethan's letter, one edge stiff with salt. Arthur did not touch it.
"Seven years?" Willam said.
"He hid it after the patrol searched his rooms. Later he feared bringing a fugitive's letter to Lord Stark's door."
"What price?" Martyn asked.
"Safety for his son, if carrying it brought trouble. Ethan promised the boy passage to Dragonstone."
Eddard found that promise in the covering letter. "You have carried the tale far enough. Martyn, find him a bed and see that no one troubles his sleep."
Martyn took him to a servant, then returned and barred the door.
Mark turned to Arthur. "Would Oswell have worn Whent silver while hiding?"
"A bat on his clasp would be like him. He could never bring himself to wear a plain one."
Martyn smiled briefly. He had seen the clasp at the tower.
Arthur drew the packet towards him, then paused over the seal.
"Could Ethan be deceived?" Mark asked.
"Any man can." Martyn turned the skin. "Whent wax proves a ring touched it, no more."
"The nick at the edge was there at Harrenhal." Arthur showed them, then broke the seal with Eddard's leave. Oswell's untidy join of the first two letters was there too. He read on. No ship or harbour was named. Gerold meant to follow a rumour of Queen Rhaella's flight; Oswell trusted it less than he trusted Gerold. They were taking passage east before Robert's patrol made it impossible and would send word when they found ground fit to stand upon. Arthur read the last line twice.
Willam leaned over the table. "What is it?"
"He says I chose the easier road."
Theo Wull snorted. "He had not seen Winterfell with thirty lords in it." No one laughed. Theo stopped smiling.
Mark reached for the jug and stopped. "Did he always write to you that way?"
"When he wanted to be answered." Arthur folded the letter carefully. "I should have liked the chance."
"He knew you would keep the boy safe," Eddard said.
"I have tried." Arthur looked towards the closed door.
Seven years had taught Arthur winter roads, nursery fevers and the sound Jon made when a practice blow hurt more than he would admit. Eddard had seen him learning each of those things. He left the knight to read the letter again.
"If they learned where Viserys and the princess had gone," Arthur said, "they may have reached them."
"Or been sent to the wrong port," Mark replied. "The letter tells us they lived when they wrote. It does not tell us they live today."
"Rhaella never left Dragonstone," Eddard said. "Stannis sent word of her pyre. Whatever that rumour promised them, the queen died there. It is the children whose path we have lost."
Arthur flattened Oswell's letter against the table until the old folds whitened beneath his fingers. "Gerold knew what she would ask of him. Her children were still alive."
"He could not know where they had been taken."
"It was his duty to find them."
"And yours was to stay with Aemon." Eddard kept his voice low. "We divided the guard because both households needed swords."
Willam looked between them. "You speak as if the choice is finished. If Ser Gerold and Oswell live, they are still Aemon's sworn guards."
"They are also hunted men," Mark said. "If we send a ship openly from White Harbor, Robert will soon hear where she has gone."
Theo rested both fists on the table. "Then have a trader ask after them while he sells his wool. He need not tell every harbourmaster whose business he is on."
"Ask the boatman about the merchant ship," Mark said. "Her colours, her master, anything he remembers of the crew. Ethan's factors can put the questions to men who sailed those waters. There is nothing here to send Arthur after yet."
Willam pushed his chair back. "Seven years, and we send another question."
"Give me a harbour," Mark said, "and I will find you a ship."
Willam looked at the letter. Oswell had named none.
Theo reached past him for the jug. "You would enjoy the voyage until the first contrary wind. Then you would curse us for bringing you."
"I would curse you before we sailed."
"There is the Willam I remember." Theo filled his cup first. "Drink. Let Ethan's men ask about the ship."
Neither Theo nor Willam had looked at Arthur while they spoke. Willam accepted the cup and sat without drinking.
Arthur stood apart with Oswell's letter in both hands. Eddard turned to him. "Do you wish to go?"
Arthur gave no quick answer. That frightened Eddard more than anger would have done. "I want to know whether they are alive, and whether they found Rhaella's children. But this gives us nowhere to look." His fingers flattened the folded skin. "I would be leaving Jon to chase a rumour seven years old."
Eddard nodded. Outside, one of the boys shouted for Jon, and another shouted back that he had gone to the barley field.
"He will ask about the letter," Arthur said.
"Tell him old friends were alive when it was written. We are still looking for them."
Mark drew the ink towards him. Eddard dictated the answer for Ethan, keeping names out of the directions his factor would carry.
Martyn checked the passage and let Willam and Theo leave first. Mark followed with Eddard's answer. Arthur remained until the room was quiet.
When Eddard and Arthur came out, Robb and Jon stood across the yard beside a heap of uprooted turf. Both boys had mud to the knees. Robb held a red ribbon. Jon carried a stake in his left hand and watched Arthur's face. "Was it bad news?" Robb asked.
"An old letter," Eddard said.
Robb frowned at being excluded. Jon waited until Arthur had crossed the yard. "Does it call you away?"
"It was written seven years ago. We still do not know where they are," Arthur said. He touched Oswell's folded letter beneath his cloak. "Ethan continues the search. I am staying."
Jon stepped closer. "Tell me when we are alone."
"I will." Arthur put a hand upon the back of his neck, brief and firm. "Now show me which of you put a fort over a wet hollow." Robb blamed Jon before they had crossed half the yard.
* * *
That afternoon, Smalljon Umber laughed at the wrestling ring until Benfred Tallhart invited him inside it. Fresh sand covered the yard within a rope circle. Ser Rodrik allowed no fists, no fingers near eyes, and no hold that twisted a knee or neck. A boy won by putting both his opponent's shoulders to earth. Greatjon looked Benfred up and down. "You had best be quick, lad."
Smalljon stepped over the rope and bent his knees, waiting for Benfred.
Benfred went low before the Umber could close. He caught one knee, turned his shoulder against the thigh, and drove. Smalljon rocked a full step. The watching boys shouted. Harrion Karstark cried for the other leg. Lyra Mormont shouted for Benfred to hold on. Smalljon sprawled his weight, caught Benfred around the middle, and lifted him clear of the sand. The Tallhart kicked once in empty air. "Put me down."
"Yield, then."
"No," Benfred said. Smalljon grinned. He could have thrown the boy. Instead he lowered Benfred until his heels touched, shifted his grip, and tried for a proper fall. Benfred used the instant of care to hook a foot behind Smalljon's ankle. They went down together. Sand burst beneath them. Benfred sat upon the larger boy's chest for half a heartbeat. Surprise made him slow. Smalljon bridged, rolled, and pressed both Benfred's shoulders flat. Rodrik slapped the sand twice. Greatjon's approval startled pigeons from the broken tower.
Benfred came up rubbing one ear. Smalljon offered a hand. "You nearly had me."
"I did have you."
"Nearly." They clasped wrists. Smalljon bent to look at the ear Benfred kept rubbing, then called for water. Jon watched him with a pang. He had remembered the Umber dying behind an overturned table. This boy kept asking his opponent whether the ringing had stopped.
While Smalljon rested, Eddard Karstark threw Daryn, then gave him another bout. Alys called her brother's name; Wynafryd urged Daryn on, and Jonelle Cerwyn kept the younger girls clear of the rope. Then Rodrik called Smalljon back.
"Me." Robb ducked into the ring despite Catelyn calling his full name from the gallery.
"He is twice your size," Cley warned.
"Only if he catches me." Robb darted in and out until Smalljon caught his tunic and lifted him. He seized the larger boy's wrist, dropped and dragged him to one knee. The yard roared. Smalljon rolled him beneath a shoulder, but Robb came up coughing and delighted.
Smalljon crooked a finger at Jon. "Black next."
The cut at the base of Jon's thumb pulled when he closed his hand. Arthur stood by the rope and said nothing. Every visiting boy looked from the famous knight to the small lord under his guard. "When it heals," Jon said.
Theon clicked his tongue. "Lord Black declines battle because his nurse tied a cloth around him."
Jon held up the wrap, already spotted from the morning's sword grip. "And I mean to have the use of it tomorrow."
Smalljon bent to look at the bloodied linen. "I can wait."
"You could beat him with one hand," Robb said.
Jon elbowed his brother with his sound arm. Domeric smiled.
Maege gave Lyra leave to try next. Twice she slipped beneath Smalljon's arm. On the third attempt he caught her around the middle, but she hooked both heels behind his knee and took him down with her. He landed above her and rose red-faced, uncertain whether he had won or been tricked.
"Nearly," Lyra said, spitting sand.
Alysane made her rinse her mouth before drinking. "You made him work," Dacey told her.
They ate oatcakes and curds beside the riding field. Cley drenched his cake in honey despite Alys's warning; the middle broke onto his boot. Smalljon shared his fourth cake with Jon while Benfred Tallhart and Lyra disputed which of them had come nearer to beating him. When Lyra reached for an apple, Smalljon drew his knees beneath the bench. Cley saw him and began laughing.
Domeric gave Cley a clean cloth for his boot. Before the baskets were empty, Hullen's horn called the race heats. The course crossed the western pasture, turned between white posts, climbed the mill road and came down to a rope before the east gate. Hullen allowed garrons and small coursers, with neither spurs nor whips.
Benfred had lost his heat to Robb and stayed by the rope to watch the final. Robb, Domeric, Harrion and Lyra Mormont brought their horses to the start. Lyra's shaggy black mare tried to bite the near post. Harrion's chestnut mouthed its bit. Robb bounced upon his grey until Jon caught the bridle.
"You are telling him to start before the horn."
"I am settling him."
"With your backside?" Domeric asked. Robb went still.
Jon released the bridle and stepped clear. He had hoped his hand would be fit for the race; instead Hullen gave him the light horn and went to place the judges at the finish. Arthur waited beside him.
"Ready?" Jon called.
Robb crouched over his grey's neck. Domeric settled his feet in the stirrups.
At the horn Lyra's mare took a length. Robb drove inside before the first turn; Harrion went wide. Domeric let them spend themselves over the wet ground, then crossed behind Harrion into the open track. He entered the turn last and left it second. Robb looked back.
"Eyes ahead!" Jon shouted.
Domeric drew level upon the mill road. At the second post he yielded the inner path to Robb, kept the bay balanced on the wider curve and came downhill with speed still under him. Lyra passed Harrion behind. Alys ran along the rope calling for her brother; Sansa clasped both hands beneath her chin while Marna kept saying the bay was gaining. Robb's grey began to close, but Domeric crossed half a neck ahead. Greatjon struck the rail in approval. Once all three judges had agreed, Jon raised a hand towards the winning bay.
"Domeric!"
Robb slid down, breathing hard. Mud freckled his cheeks. "You were behind at the first post."
"I had room to pass on the hill," Domeric said.
"You gave me the inside."
"Your grey had to slow for it. I could keep my pace on the outside."
Robb looked back up the road. Irritation left as soon as he saw the choice. "Again tomorrow."
"After the forts."
"After the forts, then." They clasped arms. Roose raised one finger from the rail, summoning his son. Domeric loosened the bay's girth and told a stable boy the animal had shortened its stride on the last turn before answering the summons. Jon returned the horn to Hullen.
Domeric stopped beside Jon on his way to Roose. "You may race us next year."
"I mean to." Jon held out his left hand, and Domeric clasped it.
The smile left the older boy's face when he joined his father. Roose bent his head to speak; Jon could not hear the words. Arthur came up beside him and offered an apple quarter. Jon took it. Hullen's men were already pulling the course ropes down.
* * *
The next morning, the reaped barley field held two forts made from willow hurdles. Red cloth hung above the western wall, black above the east. A strip of sedge between them hid low, wet ground. Oren pushed a stick through the dry crust and brought it up black with mud. "Water lies here after hard rain," he told Jon. "The ditch is blocked."
Ser Rodrik stepped beside him and tried the ground with his heel. "The surface has dried over it."
"Not beneath," Jon said. "Move our fort three paces east. Rope off the wet ground so no one runs into it. Leave the dry path through the stubble clear."
Arthur paced the dry path between the wet ground and the fort. "They will have to come through here to reach you."
"A few at a time," Jon said.
Tomas took one end of the first hurdle. Jon raised his voice before visiting heirs could mistake a patched coat for a servant sent to carry. "Tomas commands my household. He will hold our left side in the game. If he warns you about the ground, listen to him."
Tomas beckoned two of the castle boys to help him. Torrhen Karstark took the far end as they lifted it. Jon left Oren beside the wet ground to keep boys away while the wall was moved.
Rodrik gathered both companies and gave the rules: no blows above the shoulder, no striking from behind. A boy who lost his arm ribbon knelt until a comrade retied it. Carry the enemy's banner through your own gate to win. Either horn ended the game.
Catelyn brought the girls up the slope while the boys collected ribbons. Arya escaped her nurse as soon as she saw Robb and was caught at the hurdle.
"Me!" She reached for his red cloth.
"You are too little." Robb crouched beside her, and she seized his sleeve. Catelyn took her before she could pull him into the field. Jon offered a scrap of black, which she gripped fiercely without ceasing to point.
"You can cheer for us," he told her. "Stay where I can see you."
Jonelle spread her cloak on the dry slope for the younger children. Sansa brought Jeyne to sit with Marna and the Manderly girls; Alys stayed on her feet to watch her brothers. Alysane and Jorelle settled beside Jonelle. Jorelle asked which part of Smalljon Lyra meant to lift.
"All of him," Lyra said.
Little Lyanna's nurse set her beside Arya. The two began folding and unfolding the black ribbon while Marna announced that Roderick wanted Jon's side.
"Then you must cheer for him," Sansa said. "I shall cheer for Robb."
"And Cley," Jonelle added.
Sansa considered. "You can cheer for Cley. But he must help Robb."
Jonelle agreed, laughing. Jon returned to the boys as Arya called Robb's name until he waved.
"Jon takes black," Robb said. "He moved the fort. I take red."
"Do you?" Jon nudged his shoulder with his sound arm. Robb nudged back. By the time Rodrik had gathered the others, boys upon the rise were already asking for colours. Cley tied red because Robb was his friend. Theon took the next strip. Harrion and Eddard Karstark joined them, while Torrhen chose black and grinned across at his brothers.
Domeric waited until both sides had nearly formed, then wound red cloth about his arm.
"You are joining Robb?" Jon asked.
Domeric tightened the red strip. "He asked me first."
Dacey had been listening behind them. Now she held out a hand for one of the padded swords. "I should like a place, if there is one."
Jon offered her a black ribbon. "Oren needs another shield beside the lane."
Rodrik looked along the two companies, then nodded and found her a shield. Dacey tightened the belt over her riding coat and went to Oren, who showed her the ground they were to hold. From the slope, Jorelle called to ask which side she had chosen. Dacey lifted her arm to show the black cloth.
Smalljon took red last. Jon expected Robb to save the strongest boy for a charge once the rest of the fighting had begun. Robb looked up at the enormous boy and said, "You wait behind our fort."
Smalljon's face fell. "Until when?"
"Until they forget you." The disappointment became a grin.
Robb pulled Domeric towards their fort. "What does he expect?"
"Smalljon first. He wants us over one hurdle where the boys behind the next can reach us."
"Then Theon and Cley lose loudly there. Harrion and Ned keep Tomas busy. Domeric comes with me around the right." Robb turned to Daryn and Hallan. "You keep the banner until I call."
Theon frowned. "You want us to walk into his trap?"
"If they chase you, run."
"And if they don't?" Cley asked.
Robb looked up at Smalljon. "Then we teach him why he should have."
Domeric counted three boys behind Jon's wall. Robb had left three of his own; Smalljon grinned and promised to hold anyone who came.
Jon looked for Smalljon and found no sign of him at the red fort's front. He warned Tomas to expect a charge. Tomas held their left behind two low hurdles set one behind the other; Oren guarded the narrow dry path to the fort. Niall Glover and Roderick Dustin stayed by the banner. Jon kept Edden and two castle boys inside the wall, ready to help wherever they were needed. Edden had a narrow face and a blue patch upon one elbow. Jon knew how quickly he could cross the yard; he had not yet asked where the boy slept.
Tomas crouched beside the black hurdle. "Harrion keeps looking at this end, my lord."
"Let him take the outer hurdle. Change the front pair when they tire, but do not chase him away from the fort." Jon looked along Tomas's boys. "The same goes for Theon. Let him shout."
Tomas nodded and went to place his boys. Oren stood at the mouth of the lane through the stubble, testing its edge with his heel. Jon sent Torrhen to help Tomas.
Lords and ladies covered the rise. Eddard and Catelyn stood beneath the direwolf, Wyman seated to their right. Roose Bolton remained pale and still beyond him. Greatjon, Rickard and Maege found places at the front. Arthur held the east horn, Martyn the west.
Rodrik lifted his staff. "When either horn sounds, every hand opens. Strike after the call, and you spend tomorrow moving both forts alone."
The staff fell. Red came shouting through the stubble, with Sansa and Jeyne calling for Robb and Alys for all three of her brothers. Harrion attacked black's left; Theon and Cley took the middle while Robb and Domeric went round the right.
Jon yielded the first hurdle. Theon followed Cley over it and caught Tomas's padded sword on his own, but Torrhen drove Cley aside and tore Theon's ribbon free. He knelt at once.
"You gave us that ground."
"You accepted," Tomas said. Cley retied the strip and hauled Theon up.
Robb called Harrion towards Oren's lane. Oren retreated along the dry stubble, drawing the attackers into a narrow line, but Robb and Domeric reached the fort. Niall caught Robb at the wall. Domeric passed him and met Jon beneath the banner.
He offered his left shoulder. Jon followed it and saw the rear foot go right too late. Domeric slipped past and tore the black ribbon from his arm. Jon knelt, hot-faced. He had watched the Bolton judge the ground at the race, then let a shoulder feint deceive him.
"Roderick, the banner. Niall, hold Robb."
Roderick lost his ribbon trying to take Domeric's, but bought time for Niall to retie Jon's strip. Edden and the two castle boys closed their shields beneath the banner. Jon rose while Niall bent to retie Roderick's ribbon. Domeric withdrew before he could be surrounded.
"Once," Jon called.
"Once was sufficient."
Neither side broke through for the next quarter of an hour. Theon and Cley worked along the hurdles, drawing Tomas's boys after them. Benfred Tallhart lost a boot, which Lyra found and offered back for a copper. When Jon ordered his left forward, Tomas changed the tired front pair and sent Torrhen to reinforce Oren. Robb called Daryn away from red's banner to meet him. Beside Oren, Dacey drove Harrion back far enough for the younger boys to close the gap. Jorelle cheered.
Jon checked a needless order. Tomas had already made the change.
Robb climbed onto the wall of his own fort and shouted, "Run!"
Theon stared up at him. "Where?"
"Away from them." Robb leapt down the western side and fled. Cley laughed first. Theon called his captain a coward loudly enough for Jon's boys to hear. Two of Tomas's boys chased before he could stop them. Torrhen would not be left behind by boys from Winter Town and ran after them, leaving a gap in Jon's defence.
Robb turned. "Smalljon!" The waiting Umber came over the red wall, arms spread. Boys scattered before him. Dacey held her place beside Oren; Harrion and Eddard were pressing them too closely for her to leave the path. Robb, Domeric and Theon stopped running and joined Smalljon's attack. Hallan ran after them, leaving the red banner unguarded. Jon looked from the gap in his own defence to Robb's empty fort.
"Tomas, keep the left," Jon called. "Oren, hold the lane. Roderick, draw Smalljon away."
Roderick swallowed. "With what?"
"Past that hurdle, then turn." Roderick ran across Smalljon's front and ducked beneath his reaching hand. Oren dropped a loose hurdle across their path, forcing Smalljon to go round. Jon took Edden and Niall through the stubble towards red's fort. Roderick doubled back and ran after them.
Cley shouted. Domeric turned back, but Edden had reached the cloth. He pulled it loose and ran with Niall at his left. Cley caught the trailing end. The cloth snapped taut; Edden stumbled, and Jon caught the banner beside him with his left hand.
"Keep your feet," Jon told Edden. He bunched the loose cloth clear of the boy's legs.
For three strides he and Edden carried it together. Cley clung until Roderick struck his ribbon away. Niall kept between the flag-bearers and the boys following them from red's fort. At Jon's fort, Robb was tugging at the cord that held the black banner. It held. "Theon, the knot!"
Theon surged from the straw and caught it with both hands. Jon and Edden crossed their own gate. Arthur's horn sounded. Martyn answered before the note died. Every boy stopped, or tried. Smalljon ran into the hurdle because he was watching the banners. The wattle collapsed beneath him. He sat amid broken willow with such betrayed dignity that Robb began laughing. A scrape marked Smalljon's knee, but he was laughing too. Black had won. Noise filled the field. Cley claimed his long grip upon the red banner made its capture unlawful. Theon insisted the black knot had been loose before the horn and invited Rodrik to admire the marks upon his palms. Rodrik examined the cord. "Still tied."
"Loosened."
"Still tied," Rodrik repeated. Greatjon was asking Robb about Smalljon's charge and interrupting every answer. Rickard watched Tomas gather his boys. Wyman leaned towards Wylis and asked who had brought the banner in.
Robb came across to the black fort. Edden held up the captured red cloth, and Robb raised one corner with him. "Black won. Jon led them, and Edden brought our banner in." Wyman repeated the boy's name to Wylis. Roose looked once at Edden, then returned his attention to Domeric. Black cheered. After a moment, red joined them.
Marna sprang up beside Sansa. "Roderick helped! Did you see?"
Sansa had seen. She watched Robb holding the corner of Jon's captured banner, then began clapping with the others. Wylla Manderly took up Edden's name when Robb called it, and Jorelle joined her. Jonelle called Cley over to look at a scrape on his cheek; he insisted on telling her how nearly he had held the banner until she turned his face towards the light.
Arya struggled to be put down when Jon reached the slope. Catelyn kept hold of her until the boys had stopped running past, then let her toddle the last few paces to him. Lyanna came too, with one hand in Arya's. Arya held out the crumpled black ribbon. Jon bent to take it, and she snatched it back against her chest. He laughed and let her keep it. The little girls went back together to show it to Lyanna's nurse.
When Jon returned to the field, Edden came to stand beside him, still breathing hard. "Can we play again tomorrow, my lord?"
"The forts come down tomorrow."
"Could we have one more game first?"
"You can ask Rodrik."
Domeric clasped Jon's wrist, and Robb followed with straw in his hair.
"I had your knot," Robb said.
"You should have brought it with you."
Theon held out his scraped palms. "Next time untie your own."
"Next time I shall cut it," Robb said.
"Wooden swords," Domeric reminded him.
Robb looked at the ash blade in his hand and began to laugh again. Across the field Smalljon and Oren tried to lift the collapsed hurdle. It broke in the middle. Rodrik called the nearest boys over to help.
* * *
That evening, the great hall smelled of roast mutton, hot bread, damp wool, and honey glaze burning upon three trays of carrots. Banners covered the stone from the dais to the doors. Sansa's late flowers floated in bowls between salt and trenchers. Wylla Manderly had persuaded Lord Wyman to wear one white bloom in his beard.
Jon waited by the wall while servants passed with platters. Lady Donella greeted Wyman with both hands extended; he kissed his cousin's cheek without losing the flower, though a petal fell into his wine. At the mountain table a Norrey cleared a place for a late kinsman, a Flint cut bread for the old man beside him, and Theo's preferred brown ale filled the cups. Eddard stopped to listen there on his way to the dais.
Cley had found Galbart and Medger discussing his race. His father, who had lost sight of him at the first turn, held his sleeve until Galbart had finished the version Cley meant to improve.
Catelyn caught Robb before he reached his place and rubbed a smear from his cheek with her thumb. "You have washed everywhere but your face." She straightened his collar, then turned Sansa's sleeve to look for the missing ribbon. Jon waited beside them, his bad hand tucked beneath his arm.
"Your place is beside Ser Arthur this evening," she told him.
"Of course, my lady."
She turned back to Robb before Jon had moved away. At the lower tables Tomas and Oren sat among grooms and craftsmen's sons. Edden had found a place within sight of the dais.
Wylla caught Jon by the back of his collar before he sat. She worked a stiff barley awn out of the wool where it had been scratching his neck all afternoon. "You might have asked."
"I forgot it was there."
"So I see." Wylla smoothed his hair and set beef broth beside him. "Eat this while I cut your meat."
Arthur sat one place below Jon. Across from him, Martyn loosened his belt after the long afternoon at the field rope. Willam leaned over his shoulder.
"Will you eat before giving judgement on the race?"
"I have given it twice."
"Roderick has found a reason to hear it again."
Roderick was explaining something to Barbrey with two spoons. She returned the second to its starting place, and Willam sat before he could be called as a witness. Arthur offered Jon the browned edge of his mutton. He held out his trencher, hungry now that the game was over, and rested his aching hand beneath the table. The broth warmed him through.
Theo came down from the mountain table with news of a singer who knew a verse Greatjon had been demanding all evening. He asked Martyn to judge which version he remembered. By the time the serving women returned, the three men were arguing over a name in the second verse, and Arthur had been drawn into it. Jon ate while they tried the tune in low voices and failed to agree.
At the lower table Cley Cerwyn had brought his stool opposite Tomas. Theon joined them to dispute the taking of his ribbon.
"Torrhen took it. I was watching your sword."
"He was beside me." Tomas broke his bread and passed the loaf. "You came over where both of us could reach you."
"Cley was meant to have him."
"Cley was busy being shoved." He gave Theon the larger piece of bread.
Torrhen came down with his brothers, eager to hear his part again. Eddard Karstark wanted to know why Hallan had left the banner.
"Everyone was running." Hallan moved his cup before they could use it for another battle. Daryn shifted along the bench to make room.
Domeric opened his harp case after the meat. Jon heard the first strings while a serving woman cleared their platters. The air came from the Vale, slower than the songs Theo had been remembering. Conversation continued at the far end of the hall, but those nearest turned to listen. Barbrey rested one elbow on the table and watched her nephew's hands.
His second air was northern. Greatjon knew the words and began them in a voice which carried to the doors. Others joined him at the refrain. He sang well, with more care for the tune than Jon had expected from a man who had spent dinner shouting over it. One of the Norreys took the next verse while Greatjon drank.
Rickard Ryswell called for a quicker song before Domeric had finished. Maege told him to let the boy play. Domeric bowed to both and began a reel. Dacey rose from beside her mother, shaking the folds of her gown clear of the bench. Maege passed her the ribbon she had left on the table and returned to her cup.
When the reel ended, Domeric came to Jon's table. Robb had come over from his own place and was sitting beside Jon. He leaned across to make room. "Who taught you the Vale song?"
"Lord Redfort's harper," Domeric said. "He said I played it like a burial."
"It sounded well," Robb said.
Domeric laid the harp carefully beside his stool.
"Will you go back?" Jon asked.
"Aye. My service remains at Redfort. Father wanted me here for the gathering." He glanced towards Roose, then tested a string with one finger.
"Do you like it there?" Robb asked.
"Very much. Lord Redfort's sons have made me welcome. There is always someone to ride with." Domeric ran his thumb along the polished edge of the harp. "The Dreadfort will seem quiet when I go home."
"Come here, then. Father would let you." Robb glanced towards the dais. "I can ask him."
"I must go home sometime." Domeric smiled at him. "They have their brothers at Redfort. You have Jon. I shall miss having someone to quarrel with over breakfast."
"Come for the next gathering, at least," Robb said. "We can ride every day."
"I should like that."
Domeric went back to tuning his harp. Redfort kept Domeric far from the boy at the mill, but his service there would end. Jon had thought about keeping Ramsay away from him. Listening to Domeric now, he could see why the young heir might go looking for a brother himself. Jon would write to him; he wanted to know before Domeric returned north. "Was there a stone in your bay's foot?" he asked.
Domeric looked up from the strings. "A loose shoe. Hullen set it before supper. You watched after all."
"I saw you speaking to the groom."
"You shall ride against him next year." At the lower table, Edden slid a heel of bread under his tunic. A kitchen boy caught the motion and reached for his sleeve. Edden went white.
Jon rose and went to their table. "Leave the bread."
"Steward said clear the tables, my lord," the kitchen boy replied.
Poole had already seen. "Clear the spoiled trenchers. A sound heel may go where it is needed."
Jon wrapped the bread in a clean corner of linen and put it beside Edden. "Keep it. Meet me in the side passage at first bell, before breakfast. Bring your mother if she is here."
Edden nodded. When Jon returned, Robb leaned close. "Benfred Tallhart says he sleeps above the cooper."
"Then I know where to find him." Jon looked down the hall once more. Edden was eating the bread now, holding the cloth beneath it to catch the crumbs.
Sansa came from the dais carrying a white flower, Marna beside her and the Manderly girls following. Candlelight caught the loose auburn curls beside her cheeks. She pushed the stem through the black cord fastening Jon's cloak.
"You must dance when they clear the tables. We are to stand beside Wynafryd. She knows when to turn."
"I know," Marna objected.
"You turned twice when we practised."
"Only because Wylla pulled me."
Wylla Manderly had gone to ask Cley whether he meant to dance in his muddy boots. Sansa inspected Jon's, appeared satisfied and fetched Robb.
They joined the line with Cley and Alys. Daryn offered Wynafryd his hand; Jorelle drew Hallan beside her. Domeric passed his harp to a Winterfell player. Jon watched the first figure and followed it on the repeat, until Smalljon trod on his cloak. His grave apology made Lyra laugh. Robb turned the wrong way, Cley collided with Domeric, and Sansa tried to follow Wynafryd while Wylla pulled her elsewhere. Jon brought the line round before his brother could spoil the next turn.
When they paused, Arthur took Jon's hot cloak and sent him back. Jon's wife in his first life had liked a room full of music. He had spent too many evenings pleading work before learning how much he missed by it. Tonight the drawings were locked away.
Theon joined a Flint girl who had been watching with her sisters. He brought her through the crossing neatly. Afterwards Robb caught him by the sleeve and demanded to know how.
"I watched Wynafryd. You were looking at your feet." He showed Robb twice beside the wall. At the next tune Robb returned to Alys; Theon went back to the Flint sisters.
Eddard led Catelyn onto the floor. Sansa watched her mother and raised her chin, the likeness between them plain as they turned. Marna copied Sansa. Jon caught Robb looking at them and had to turn away before he laughed again.
At the end of the tune, Wyman Manderly gave Lady Donella his arm. Men moved a bench to clear their way. For all his size, he placed his feet neatly and brought his cousin through the turn without troubling the couple beside them. Jon watched until Robb tugged him towards the cups. He was thirsty enough to drink the watered wine without tasting it.
Wylla waited near the passage with his cloak. She let him finish the next tune before calling him over. The others were still arguing about their best moments in the game as he followed her upstairs. Music reached them even after the hall doors had closed. Jon sat on the bed while she pulled off his boots, then lay back, one stocking still on, and listened to the beat growing faint beneath the floor.
The next morning Ser Rodrik sent every boy back to the barley field with spades, brushes and coiled rope. The forts were to come down before the guests left. Theon began arguing about the knot as soon as he saw it.
"I said you won, didn't I?" he said.
"Wind the boundary rope," Rodrik told him. The boys began taking the forts down. Tomas counted tools and gave them out. Smalljon and the Karstarks carried hurdles. Cley received the narrow spade he had left caked in mud.
He looked at Tomas's patched coat. "Give that to one of the field boys."
Tomas met his gaze. "You dirtied it, my lord." Lord Medger's wagons waited in the yard. By noon Cley would be a lord's son upon the road, while Tomas returned to work beneath a plain black banner most Cerwyn men had never seen.
Cley fetched the brush. "If I clean it, you admit red nearly won."
Tomas let him scrape the blade without conceding the point.
At the first bell Jon waited in the side passage while Poole's men set out breakfast for the boys who had worked the forts. He waited until the last of them went in to eat. Edden had not come.
He went to find Robb. "Edden is not here. Do you know the cooper Benfred Tallhart meant?"
Robb put down his spoon. Arthur came with them to the room above the cooper's shed where Edden sometimes slept with his mother. Wet staves scented the stair. The door had no lock, only a leather loop. One rolled pallet rested against the wall. Two pegs stood bare. A cracked cup remained upon the sill. Ash had been swept from the hearth; the rushes had been gathered as though the room were being left for a landlord who might charge for dirt. The old trencher basket stood beside the door. No bread remained beneath its cloth. The cooper said the mother washed linen when work could be found and followed harvest camps when it could not. A neighbour had heard them before dawn and thought they were joining a wagon.
"Which road?" Jon asked.
The woman spread red, swollen hands. "Twenty wagons passed in the dark, my lord. Half went north and half south."
"Which wagons did you see?" Jon asked.
"One southbound cart squealed fit to wake the dead. A wagon with a green canvas cover went north. I saw no more."
"Did she owe rent?"
"A fortnight," the cooper said. "I would have waited."
"Did she know that?" Robb asked. The man looked at the swept hearth and had no answer.
Jon left the basket beside the door. Back at the castle, he and Robb went straight to Eddard's solar, where Poole's clerk was sorting the morning's letters. Jon told Eddard of the missed meeting and the room left empty before dawn. Robb added the bare pegs and described Edden taking the banner as if that should make the rest impossible.
"He was hungry," Robb said. "We had six kinds of meat."
Eddard opened the door and called Jory. "One rider north and one south. Ask after the green-covered wagon and the squealing wheel first, then the last camps. Find the boy and his mother if you can. Do not ride at them like thieves. Take food for them. His mother may need persuading to return."
Jory ran. "If they find him, he can stay," Robb said.
"His mother washes linen," Jon said. "My household has work for her. We can employ him too."
Eddard turned to Poole's clerk. "Ask at the washhouse for her name. Give it to the riders."
Robb rubbed at the dried mud on his cuff. "He told Benfred where he slept. I could have asked him."
"So could I."
Eddard drew the inkpot clear of Robb's muddy sleeve.
Eddard waited until the clerk had gone. "The riders will bring them back if they can be found. I will have the gate clerk send for you if either comes here."
Arthur glanced at the mud on Robb's sleeves. "Rodrik is waiting for you."
"Three hurdles," Robb said with a sigh.
"Four," Jon told him. "We still have Smalljon's to carry." They went down to the gate before returning to the field. The two riders passed the last guest wagons and divided beyond it, one north and one south.