The next morning, he ate whatever Old Gran gave him and told her he was leaving. When he offered to buy her old axe for a few coppers, she lectured him for minutes about the folly of youth, but in the end, she handed him the axe without a single copper in exchange.
When she asked where he was going, he replied, "Barrow Hall. Best I go myself, they will come for me sooner or later anyway."
She had nodded with simple, "Clever lad. Be on your way then. Come back to me if you change ya' mind. Serie was like a third daughter of mine that I never had."
He knew how good the relationship was between his mother and Old Gran. Orston thanked her for everything, grabbed the axe, a little bundle of food she gave, and a fur cloak, and started walking. Answering the same thing whenever asked by anyone on the way.
It wasn't a lie. He planned to go to Barrow Hall, but not to see Lady Dustin. He will continue north till he reaches his real destination.
Walking. He had underestimated how this simple thing might not be as simple as they describe in the books. The sun had set by the time he reached Burrow Town. Stone houses. Mud streets. Barrow mounds outside town — ancient First Men graves, according to books. Orston expected people to act roughly, as northerners were described, but the few people he met on the dirt path smiled at him as they passed and even chatted a little.
Orston chose an inn in the small town and asked the innkeeper if he could sleep in the stables for the night. The plus-sized lady stared at his muddy clothes for a while, but ultimately replied with,
"A copper. And you better stay away from ma' kitchen,"
Renting a room was too costly. He only had one silver, which wouldn't be enough for even one night. Orston ate what little was left of Old Gran's gift and tried his best to fall asleep. The stable smelled like horse dung, fleas buzzing around, and horses making noises at times. But he forced himself to sleep.
The next morning, Orston washed his face from the well water and got to work. First, he searched for a merchant selling a water skin. After much haggling, the man finally gave it up in 8 copper pennies. Then Orston ate a salted fish for breakfast and filled his little sack with as much long-lasting food as he could buy with 20 copper pennies.
In the end, when he started his journey north to Torhhen's Square, only 42 copper pennies had remained on him. He asked around, and people said the Square was at least two weeks' walk away. So he bought enough food for that. Hard bread, salted fish, cheese, etc.
When the first night arrived after a day-long walk through green lands and muddy roads, Orston realized something very crucial. He didn't know how to light a fire!
Fortunately, the occasional farms and small houses were still visible at this distance, and he could take shelter in a barn. But he wasn't so fortunate every night. Some nights, he had to sleep under the stars with only his cloak to keep him warm. It was cold, bone-chilling cold.
A few more days, and Orston had somewhat accepted his situation and gotten used to sleeping in the weirdest places and on hard, cold ground. His body was much more resilient than he gave it credit for. His mind still thought like an Earth boy, but the people of Westeros were tougher and more suitable for living in this world.
The only fear he had was of stray animals. The nights were filled with weird noises. His axe remained in his hands as he slept. Other than scaring away some dogs he saw one evening, nothing had come across his path yet.
When Torhhen's Square neared, the dwindling farm lands and barns started appearing again, and Orston thanked the gods for it. His nose no longer complained about the smell of sheep and dung. The straw and hay somehow became more comfortable than ever.
The hold had thirty-foot-high stone walls with square towers at each corner. Much larger than he had imagined in his mind. The seat belongs to House Tallhart.
Orston had half a mind to go to Tallhart and reveal himself; he was just that tired. But he knew nothing good could come of it, so he endured. Unlike Barrow Hall, he did not see any godswood here; other than that, it was mostly the same, just smaller. He was a stranger and had no desire to remain among people who looked at him with suspicion, so after a day's rest in another stable, he was on his way.
Once again, 25 copper pennies had cost him the food supplies. The water was easy to get from the villages.
However, three days into his travel to Cerwyn, the stop before Winterfell, Orston noticed something odd. Every night when he stopped to rest, he could see a distant fire burning behind him. Every night, it came closer and closer.
On day six, Orston could see a distant rider slowly following behind him. Many a horse rider had ridden past him these past few weeks, but none spared him a single glance. Tallhart, Cerwyn, and even Stark men.
Orston usually tried to hide behind hills or stones when he noticed the riders, but not always. But this one rider was deliberately going too slow and was always in his line of sight.
Who could it be? And why was he travelling so slowly despite being on a horse? Was he following him?