"Yes, only one person in the world has dragons. Everyone knows that!" Rickard was stunned when Aegor admitted it so directly and took a few seconds to recover. "Then I must ask, you, a man of the Night's Watch, how did you get involved with the Mad King's daughter?"
"The Dragon Queen flew directly from the battlefield near King's Landing to the front lines of the Gift, personally riding her dragon to join the Night's Watch in pursuing the enemy who crossed the Wall. Not only did she fight alongside us and help wipe out the enemy, she also saved hundreds of Northmen from the wights — including your liege, Robb Stark. In doing so, she lost one of her three dragons and severely wounded another. Only one dragon flew over the castle just now. Did you not wonder why?"
"Maybe she only ever had one dragon, and the rest is just rumor. Or maybe there really were three, but only one came. Who knows?" the bearded son, whose age was hard to tell, spoke with open hostility. "You say this Queen abandoned King's Landing to save the North and rescued Robb Stark. Then why didn't anyone from Winterfell come with you to inform me? And how could White Walkers on the ground injure a dragon flying in the sky? Do you take us for fools, thinking you can lie to our faces so easily?"
Rickard's son stood nearly six and a half feet tall, thick with muscle, his broad frame wrapped in heavy furs and armor. Aegor had no doubt that even two of him together could barely match the man in a fight — and that was if they were unarmed. Facing such a fierce presence, it was difficult to stay calm and think clearly, but Aegor was long used to pressure.
There were no bodies left behind by White Walkers, and both the wights and the white dragon had already been burned, so Aegor had no physical evidence. Still, he stood firm, unfazed. "Whether you believe it or not, you can ask the Night's Watch, the people of the New Gift, or the mountain clans among the Northmen who returned with me. Truth cannot be faked, and lies cannot become truth. Now, the Queen's injured black dragon urgently needs a place to rest and recover. That's why it followed me north after the battle. I believed Last Hearth was unoccupied and hoped to use it temporarily. Who knew your army had arrived first? In this situation, I came on the Queen's behalf to try and persuade you, my lord, to return to Karhold and avoid unnecessary conflict."
The Night's Watch guards nearby spoke up one after another to support their Lord Commander, but their words carried little weight, and the two Karstarks ignored them entirely.
"Avoid conflict? Sounds pleasant enough! No wonder you were evasive and kept urging me to leave earlier. You wanted to trick me into giving up Last Hearth to the Mad King's daughter, letting her take her first prize in the North without a fight?" Rickard exploded once again. His temper was already prone to flaring, and the constant provocations from Aegor today sent his emotions soaring like a storm. "The land of the Northmen is not for outsiders. Even if we all die here today, turned to ash by Dragonflame, we will never allow her to set foot in this castle! You've miscalculated. Guards!"
If it had only been a dozen or so Night's Watch soldiers, they might have had a chance to force their way out in the confusion. But with the Lord of Karhold's furious shout summoning two or three dozen men, and his son already reaching for his sword with a cold smile, Aegor had no option to retreat. He could only act.
There was no time to waste. If he delayed even a moment longer, once Rickard gave the order to seize him, it would be too late.
...
"Are you Harion Karstark?" Aegor turned and addressed the bearded middle-aged man.
The man sneered. "Trying to be friendly now? Bit late for that. Be good and get ready to rot in a cell."
Aegor raised a hand to stop him. "Ser Harion, allow me a bold guess. Is your brother, Torren Karstark, also here in this castle?"
"What if he is? He has nothing to do with you."
Connection? Aegor wasn't banking on that. He was betting on something else: that people rarely change. And Rickard Karstark had a habit of bringing all his sons with him on campaign.
His youngest son, Eddard Karstark, had already been killed by Euron Greyjoy during the fighting against the Ironborn on the western coast. If both Harion and Torren were present here, then Rickard and all his male heirs were inside this one castle.
There are many who don't fear death, but when their sons are also at risk, not everyone can face it so easily. For these ancient houses, nothing mattered more than the survival of their bloodline.
"I don't know your brother. I might not even recognize him if he stood in front of me," Aegor said with a forced smile. "But tell me, my lords. Do the walls of Last Hearth look thicker and more fireproof than Harrenhal?"
With men like the Karstarks — ironborn in spirit if not in name — threatening them usually wouldn't work. But the Queen's reckless show of force left Aegor with no better choice. He had to find leverage in this desperate moment.
He had asked about Torren's presence, then immediately brought up Harrenhal. Not just because it was the most famous castle ever destroyed by Dragonflame, but also because the last Lord of Harrenhal — Black Harren Hoare, King of the Isles and the Rivers — had perished with his entire bloodline when he tried to resist the Conqueror's dragons with thick stone walls. House Hoare was wiped out in a single night. If Rickard and his last two sons were here, that story would surely flash through his mind.
"You bastard. Aren't you afraid of death?" Harion, despite the beard, was only a few years older than Aegor, in his prime and full of fire. He flew into a rage and drew his longsword with a metallic clang. "Even if the three of us — my father, brother, and I — die here today, there are still Karstarks in Karhold. My sister. My uncles. My cousins. As for you, I'd like to see how the Queen's dragon will save you from my blade."
Now it all came down to whether Rickard's love for his sons was as strong as Aegor had guessed.
Aegor didn't dare escalate things further. He stepped back, and the guards of the Night's Watch moved quickly, stepping forward to shield him. They weren't as tall or broad as Harion, but the Queen's personal guards were not chosen for weakness or cowardice. Until Rickard gave the order to act, one angry son couldn't do much.
"Harion, stand down!"
As the younger man hesitated, deciding whether to cut down the guards before him, Aegor's heart pounded. But Rickard spoke, pulling Harion back and stepping forward himself. His face was twisted in fury, and his eyes locked on Aegor.
If Aegor had been alone and foolish enough to issue threats, Rickard Karstark would have already struck him down. But this time was different. With his only two remaining sons inside the castle, no plan for dragon defense, and no proper weapons, Aegor had struck his one weakness. The Karstarks had other kin, yes, but dragons fly, and Karhold had no ballistae. If the Targaryen girl lost her temper, anything was possible.
"Well, well. A Lord Commander of the Night's Watch," Rickard spat through clenched teeth. "No promotion left at the Wall, so you found yourself a clever little escape. Nicely done. That Targaryen whore is mad enough to take in anyone just to get her Iron Throne. You're dragging the Night's Watch into her filth now? Hah. Shameless. I almost admire it. So tell me — if I throw you into the dungeon right now, how will she dare use her dragon against me?"
If he really did that, everything would collapse.
A chill raced down Aegor's spine. If he were locked up, the Gift Army would be without a leader. Daenerys wouldn't be able to command the men. With no way to negotiate, she might have no choice but to unleash her dragon and burn the castle, destroying the Karstark forces. Without him, no one had the credibility or strength to unite the Gift, the Watch, and the mountain clans against a new war with the North. The dragon transport team would fall apart. Drogon would never be moved into the castle. He would die, the Queen would be stranded, her mount would perish. Everything — the plan for King's Landing, the dream of breaking the wheel — would be lost.
"Hahaha..."
The more he was pressed, the more he had to pretend confidence. Showing fear now would seal his fate.
Aegor laughed and raised both hands in surrender. "You may kill me, Lord, or throw me into the darkest cell you have. I truly don't want to die by Dragonflame. Do you think the Queen cares about the life of a Night's Watch man like me? She's desperate to find a place for her injured dragon to heal. She made it clear: if I don't return from this castle within an hour, she'll burn it to the ground. I understand your concern about the Watch violating neutrality. But picture this story instead. Dragons and the Watch join forces to repel the White Walkers. The Karstark host didn't help, didn't fight. They attacked the Watch from behind, killed the Lord Commander who saved hundreds, and enraged the Queen who came to aid them. The result? Thousands die in flames, and the Karstark line ends — father and sons alike — in a pile of ash."
"Sounds absurd, doesn't it?" He didn't let Rickard dwell on it too long or let the fury boil up again. "Now let me offer you a better ending. One that ends with honor and peace. One the people of the Seven Kingdoms and future generations will praise."
When threatening fails, the result is disaster. Bluffing carries less risk. But with a man like Rickard, even bluffing needed a soft touch.
Cold sweat soaked through Aegor's underclothes. The situation had not yet collapsed, but it was far from stable. To make a man like Rickard Karstark back down and leave with dignity, threats alone were not enough. He needed to offer a way out — one that let him keep his pride.
(To be continued.)