While Lancelot and the others were discussing the White Walkers, Mance Rayder sat comfortably in his chair, drinking wine, eating meat, and humming a little tune.
To outsiders, he looked incredibly happy!
Mance Rayder's attitude infuriated Robert.
"A mere savage, acting so arrogant! Where is Ilyn Payne?" King Robert shouted.
Ilyn Payne was the King's Justice, the royal executioner responsible for killing on the King's behalf.
He was a tall, bald man who never spoke.
Twenty years ago, he had served as Tywin's Captain of the Guard, but the Mad King Aerys had ripped his tongue out with hot pincers.
Ilyn Payne strode up to King Robert, knelt on one knee, and awaited his command.
Robert pointed at Mance Rayder, about to utter the words "Kill him."
But Mance Rayder spoke first.
"I have eaten bread and salt in Winterfell, the castle of House Stark. I have drunk ale and eaten onions. I enjoy the protection of Lord Eddard Stark. This is the ancient and sacred Guest Right, which neither Kings nor Gods may violate."
Hearing this, King Robert's face turned ugly. He turned to look at Eddard Stark.
Eddard Stark looked equally helpless.
"Your Grace, we cannot kill him. Guest Right is sacred, ancient, and inviolable."
"So we can do nothing? We just watch the King-Beyond-the-Wall gloat in front of us, and we can't touch him?" Robert asked furiously.
"For the moment, yes," Eddard Stark said resignedly.
King Robert sighed and turned to Lancelot.
"Lancelot, you've always been clever, much smarter than Joffrey. Do you have any way to deal with Mance Rayder?"
Lancelot looked at Mance Rayder, who was tearing into a chicken leg, and replied:
"Your Grace, Guest Right is not the only sacred and inviolable right. There are others, such as the right to Trial by Combat."
"Mance Rayder is, after all, a deserter of the Night's Watch. According to the laws of the Watch, the penalty is death."
"And since he is now in Winterfell, according to the laws of the North, a Night's Watch deserter must also die, and the sentence must be carried out by the Lord of Winterfell himself."
"Therefore, we can have Lord Eddard sentence him to a Trial by Combat. As long as Eddard Stark kills him in single combat, he dies by trial, and his death is justified," Lancelot explained.
King Robert nodded, listening.
"Ned, do you think you can defeat him?"
Eddard Stark frowned. Although Lancelot's logic was sound—using the right of Trial by Combat to cancel out Guest Right—he, Eddard Stark, was not a man of supreme swordsmanship or spearmanship.
Mance Rayder was once a Ranger of the Shadow Tower and had survived beyond the Wall for over a decade. Ned feared he might not be able to beat him.
"Well, Your Grace... I have been a Lord for many years, and my martial skills have grown rusty! However, my brother Benjen Stark is the First Ranger of the Night's Watch. It would be most fitting for him to clean house."
Benjen Stark immediately agreed. He stood up and faced Mance Rayder.
"Mance Rayder, I accuse you of desertion. As a brother of the Night's Watch, you defected to the wildlings. Now, I, Benjen of House Stark, First Ranger of Castle Black, challenge you to a Trial by Combat. You may not refuse."
"I accept your challenge. Come then, Benjen Stark. Let the gods witness my innocence!" Mance Rayder did not refuse the trial.
"However, it is already night. Why don't we hold the trial tomorrow morning?" Mance asked.
"Then enjoy the last night of your life! Mance Rayder," Benjen Stark said.
The feast continued all night. No one slept until dawn the next day.
Bleary-eyed but awake, everyone gathered in the Godswood of Winterfell. In this Godswood stood the largest Heart Tree, a weirwood with a face carved by the Children of the Forest—lifelike and terrifying.
Benjen Stark and Mance Rayder were ready. They mounted their horses and donned their armor.
To ensure fairness, Eddard Stark gave his own armor, warhorse, and lance to Mance Rayder to use.
Lancelot lent his Valyrian steel spear to Benjen Stark.
Eddard Stark stepped forward and shouted to the crowd.
"Under the witness of the Old Gods, today we hold a trial. Benjen of House Stark, First Ranger of the Night's Watch, will pass judgment on the deserter and King-Beyond-the-Wall: Mance Rayder."
Eddard Stark spoke the opening words because he, Benjen, and Mance all followed the Old Gods. A Maester or Septon couldn't officiate, as Maesters held no faith and Septons served the Seven.
Just as the two were about to clash, a cry for help echoed from the weirwood forest.
Lancelot listened closely—it was Joffrey's voice. He hadn't returned since leaving with Robb Stark the previous night, and everyone had forgotten about them.
"Help! Father, help! Lancelot, come save me!"
Joffrey was pinned to the ground by a wildling, his hands and feet bound. As he screamed, he swallowed mouthfuls of dirt.
Beside him lay Robb Stark, also bound hand and foot, but motionless on the ground, unconscious.
"Joffrey!"
Lancelot rode the white lion, Hrakkar, charging into the Godswood. following the sound, he found a group of wildlings, about a dozen of them, holding Joffrey and Robb captive.
"Joff!" Robert arrived as well, along with Eddard Stark, Jaime, and the others.
"Robb!" Eddard Stark looked at his son with worry. Robb lay motionless, and Ned feared he might already be dead.
"Wildlings! Are you here to save Mance Rayder?" Robert demanded.
"That's right. Release Mance Rayder, or the Crown Prince and the heir to the North will have their throats slit."
A man wearing a giant skull mask spoke. He was adorned with numerous bone ornaments that clattered whenever he moved. The wildlings called him "Rattleshirt," or the Lord of Bones.
"Damn it! Let them go!" King Robert punched a weirwood tree in frustration.
But with his son in wildling hands, and Ned's son captured too, it seemed they had no choice but to compromise.
Just as Robert was about to agree to the exchange, Eddard Stark spoke up.
"Is my son still alive?"
"Alive. He fought too hard last night, so we knocked him out. Truly a Stark with wolf's blood in his veins. Unlike this Crown Prince—flowing with docile stag blood, so easy to capture."
"Hahaha! Hahaha!"
"The wolf cub is fierce, but the stag fawn is useless! Hahaha!" The wildlings laughed uproariously.
While the wildlings were laughing, Lancelot had been quietly repositioning. Using the trees for cover, he had circled behind them.
Then, Lancelot and Hrakkar launched a coordinated attack.
Hrakkar charged without roaring, so by the time the wildlings noticed him at close range, it was too late.
With a massive swipe of his paw, the lion sent one man flying, then plunged into the group, tearing through them.
Lancelot grabbed Joffrey with one hand and Robb Stark with the other, sprinting toward safety.
However, a female wildling loosed a cold arrow at Lancelot's retreating back.
Thwack!
The arrow struck Lancelot in the center of his back, sending him crashing to the ground. Both captives were thrown from his grip.
Joffrey was lucky, landing in a pile of leaves. Robb was less fortunate—he flew headfirst into the trunk of a weirwood tree.