Chapter 16 4 страница

Ceasing his pacing, Nox turned and walked closer until the two were but a hands width from one another. " You know what you are asking right? " Nox asked, though going by his tone Ned knew that his friends mind was already set on this course of action. He was merely giving him one last chance to keep his name out of what was to come. " Once I start down this path, I will not stop. They took my son from me. They nearly took my wife from me. And they will learn just what it means to try and take something precious from a Lord of the Sith. Anyone who took part in this. Anyone who know about this. Anyone who stood to profit from this. I'm going to kill them all. And make no mistake Lord Stark. We will get bloody during this. And innocents will get caught in the middle. Can you handle that? "

War. This would lead to war. With whom he didn't know. But he knew that it would lead them to war. The honorable part of him, the part that baulked at even the thought of an innocent being hurt tried to make its voice heard within him. But it was vastly overwhelmed by another part within him. An aspect of himself that he tried to deny. An aspect that had truly not made itself known since the day he had learned of the deaths of his father and brother at the hands the Mad King. Only this time, there was no Jon Arryn to calm him down. And he would not be calmed down this time. Turning his back on Nox, he made his way to leave the room. " Vigils will be held tonight for the dead, " he said, placing his hand on the latch, " the funerals will be held tomorrow. After that…do whatever you deem necessary to find out who else had a hand in this. And we will deal with them accordingly. Together. "

" Good, " Nox replied. " Oh, and one last thing Ned. The one who killed my son and who almost killed my wife. "

" Ser Lyn Corbray. " Ned answered the unasked question.

" He is mine to deal with. "

" What do you plan to do with him? " He asked, not entirely sure he wanted to know or not.

" Does it matter? " Nox asked, " he will die. But before he does, I will make sure that he becomes a lesson that will spread across the land about what it means to cross a Sith Lord. "

Given what honor and Northern law demanded to happen to the traitors Lords, Ned found that he didn't have any reason to deny Nox's request. " Very well. He is yours to deal with as you see fit. "

Two days after the attack that'd shaken Winterfell to its core, Nox found himself standing outside the gates of Winterfell beside his wife, a bundle of cloth tucked tightly in her arms, while around them nearly the entirety of Winterfell and Winter Town gathered as the sun just barely started to crest the horizon. Not a single voice was heard as the denizens of Winterfell stared out at the scene before them. Dozens of funeral pyres that'd been assembled over the course of the previous day and night. And each, save for the four closest to those assembled were laden with dozens fallen men and women of the North. Without a word spoken, the crowd parted, giving way to men half a dozen men wearing the sigil of House Karstark. Between them, they carried the body of the former Lord of Karhold, Rickard Karstark. Just behind the men carrying their fallen Lord were his children; the new Lord Harrion, Eddard, Torrhen and Alys. Reaching the nearest pyre, the men lifted the former Lord onto the pyre. After setting the fallen Lord down upon the logs, the men of House Karstark gave the fallen man one last bow of respect before backing away so that his children could take their turns saying goodbye before walking back and standing in line with the rest.

The process was repeated with the fallen Lord Medger Cerwyn, who was proceeded by his son Clay and daughter Jonelle. Once they'd taken their places, the crowd parted again. This time allowing a procession led by Jory Cassel, who was acting as honor guard for Vayon Poole. The only family left to the man was his daughter Jeyne, who was openly weeping and had to be almost forcibly led away by Jory after the former steward of Winterfell had been placed on his pyre. Once they were clear, a delegation from the Vale led by Lord Royce and accompanied by his two surviving sons, both of whom were leaning heavily on others to keep them upright, led a procession for the eldest son of House Royce, Andor Royce. The old man kept his face completely passive, but Nox could feel the pain of the man as clear as a midday sun as his eldest was laid upon the funeral pyre.

Feeling Nyra stiffen beside him, Nox took her hand in his own, trying his best to give her what strength he could. Together, the two walked forward to the nearest pyre. And as one, they carefully set down the small bundle that Nyra had been carrying. With a shaking hand, Nyra smoothed out the cloth surrounding their son as if smoothing out the sheets on a bed before leaning down and placing a light kiss upon their dead son's brow. " Goodbye Khem, " Nyra's voice was so full of pain and sorrow that Nox felt his own self-control slipping quickly from his grasp. " I love you my son. Rest now with the gods and our ancestors. And one day, we will meet again. "

As Nyra pulled back, Nox reached out and let his fingers gently caress his son's face. A son that had been robbed of his chance at life before he could even start to live it. " The Force is with you my son. And now, you are with the Force. " Pulling back Nyra all but collapsed into his chest and started sobbing loudly as the two made their way away from the pyre and back to their place in line.

Hearing the crowd shuffle and move, Nox turned his attention towards the gates of Winterfell as a large contingent of Stark men-at-arms led by Ser Bryden Tully marched out with the Stark family close behind along with the direwolves that'd bonded to the Stark family. Hoisted up on the men's shoulders was a boat that'd been hastily constructed. Reaching the last remaining pyre, the men-at-arms lowered the boat to the ground. Within the boat were the bodies of Catelyn Stark, Rickon Stark and the boy's wolf pup. One by one, the children of House Stark and their wolves took their turns approaching the boat and saying their last farewells to their lost mother and brother. Robb had tried to stay impassive, but Nox could feel the pain in the boy no matter how well he masked it. Sansa, her voice mostly healed from her Force Scream, openly wailed as she tucked her mother's hair behind an ear. Arya had perhaps the most subdued farewell, but there was no mistaking the tears running down her face. And Bran could hardly say anything as he started weeping uncontrollably, only to be led away by Robb.

With the children's farewells done, Ned stepped forward and knelt beside his wife and son. His words of goodbye hardly more than a slight mumbling as he caressed his wife and son's face one last time. Rising, Ned nodded to the men at arms, who immediately hoisted the makeshift boat up onto the last pyre and moved back to stand with his children. With all the pyres now filled, several guards carrying torches made their way to the front of the assembled crowd and began handing them off to various Lords and Ladies who's loved ones now rested upon the pyres. Taking a torch that a guard had held out for him, Nox let go of Nyra and built a wall around his heart for what was about to happen.

The distance between the pyre holding his son and himself was only a few meters at best, but it was without a doubt the hardest few meters he had ever crossed in his entire life. Once everyone was in position, Lord Stark held his torch high, letting everyone seeing the burning flame before throwing it onto the pyre holding his wife. Taking their cue, each man or woman holding a torch proceeded to light the pyres of the dead. " Goodbye Khem, my son, " he said, reaching out and caressing his son one last time through the Force before letting the torch fall and igniting the pyre holding his infant son.

As soon as he was back with Nyra, his wife all but threw herself into his arms. And together they stood side by side, drawing what comfort they could from one another as they watched the flames rise around their son.

All of Winterfell was silent, the only noise the sound of fire burning as the funeral pyres burned. But as the fires burned, a calm woman's voice, Nox didn't know whose, started singing softly before gaining in strength until she could easily be heard by all present.

" Shadowns fall. And hope has fled. Steel your heart, the dawn will come. The night is long, and the path is dark. Look to the sky for one day soon. The dawn will come. "

Beside him, Nyra stiffened and sniffed loudly as the song settled over the crowd. Tilting her head back, Nyra's soft soprano voice joined in as the song continued. " The shepherd's lost, and his home is far. Keep to the stars, the dawn will come. "

Down the line, Sansa's young voice joined in as well as the eldest daughter of House Stark held tightly onto the hand of her friend Jeyne. " The night is long, and the path is dark. Look to the sky for one day soon. The dawn will come. "

Like a wave from the sea, the song quickly spread across the crowd standing before the burning pyres till nearly every voice, from Lord and Lady to peasant, joined in. " Bare your blade and raise it high. Stand your ground, the dawn will come. The night is long, and the path is dark. Look to the sky, for one day soon. The dawn will come. The night is long, and the path is dark. Look to the sky, for one day soon. The dawn will come. "

The song launched into a refrain, and as it did Nox began to sing as well. But while many were seemingly drawing strength and hope from the song, and he could understand why, Nox was drawing only anger as he watched through the Force as the fire ate away at his son. And as his anger grew, he restated the promise he'd made to Ned just the night before. 'Anyone who stood to profit from this. Anyone who had a hand in the planning of this. Anyone who had even a passing knowledge of this…they will all learn just what it means to take something precious from a Sith Lord. There will be no negotiation. And there will be no mercy. I swear it on the Force. '

Resting with his back against the cold stone wall of his cell, Lord Ludd Whitehill sat in contemplative silence as he stared out from the bars of his cell. While many would've been regretting their decisions that landed them in such state, he was not one of them. He knew full well what he was doing when he agreed to betray the Starks. And he knew full well the consequences of failure. And if he had the chance to go back and do it all over again, he would still make the same decision as he had all those years ago when he'd first been approached about the idea of ending the Stark line and installing a new Warden of the North.

'How? ' He thought, letting his head fall forward. 'How did it all go wrong? Our plan was flawless. And everything was going perfectly…so how? How did it come to this? '

While he was not part of the initial parties that gave birth to the plan to overthrow the Starks, when it'd been presented to him, he could find no fault in it. The plan already had the backing of House Bolton, House Ryswell, House Dustin, House Stout and House Corbray of the Vale. Though how the Vale House had been convinced to through their lot in he had no idea. Perhaps Lyn Corbray simply wanted the prestige of taking down the Northern Sorcerer, a man that many considered to be invincible on the field of battle after the very brief Greyjoy Rebellion. But while the reasoning behind House Corbray's participation was a mystery to him, he fully understood the Northern Houses motivation. The Bolton's were descendants of the 'Red Kings' of old. The greatest rival to the Starks ever since both Houses were first formed. And it was an open secret in the North that the Bolton's were waiting for the first moment of weakness to show in the Starks. And that the moment it did, they would pounce and remove their longtime rival.

House Dustin's participation was expected. Afterall, Lady Barbrey Dustin had once been said to have had quite the dalliance with the former heir of Winterfell, Brandon Stark. And there were even rumors that the two were to wed. But then Lord Rickard Stark ended those rumors as he announced his son and heir's engagement to Catelyn Tully of the Riverlands. Barbrey was then married off to Lord William Dustin, who had been a loyal vassal to House Stark for centuries. But Eddard's actions in retrieving his sister's corpse resulted in William's death, leaving Barbrey a widow. A very angry widow. House Stark had given her a taste of what she could have, and then taken it all away. And as the old saying went, 'hells hath no fury like a woman scorned'. And Barbrey was very much a scorned woman twice over. And with House Dustin's participation, House Stout, a knightly house that was a direct vassal to House Dustin, was expected to go along. And seeing as how Lady Dustin had come from House Ryswell and that Lord Roose's deceased wife was from House Ryswell and Lady Dustin's sister, their participation was expected as well.

The number of Houses that'd agreed to the removal of the Starks was impressive. But having a strong showing of support was not enough to convince Ludd to throw his lot in. No, that decision had been made after every detail of the plan had been laid out before him. The plan was to launch the coup during Robb Starks three-and-ten nameday celebration. A celebration that almost every House in the North would be obliged to attend. They would substitute the bards that would be in attendance with assassins and spend the days leading up to the celebration putting their own men and assassins in key areas around Winterfell to ensure there were no survivors. A special poison had even been provided to them, which they'd been assured would put the wolf's pet sorcerer out of commission for good. And once all witness and leadership in the North was eliminated, those that were in on the plan would send a message throughout the realm that the sorcerer and the wolf's bastard had launched a surprise attack and tried to kill the Starks. Given the general view on bastards and on the sorcerer, it would've been easy to place the blame on them. Especially with no one around to counter the claims. And they'd even had insurances that the King would believe their tale. Then Sansa Stark would then be wed to Roose Bolton's heir, ensuring the loyalty of those that had not attended the celebration. The Red Kings would have finally had their revenge against the Starks and take the place as Warden of the North, Lady Barbrey would've gotten her revenge, Ser Corbray would've gained even more prestige for his part in taking down the sorcerer. And as for himself, he'd been guaranteed the lands of House Forrester as well as the banishment or extinction of the wretched family as well! The rewards had been worth the risks.

But as the time for action drew closer, faults began forming in their seemingly perfect plan. The first true fault in the plan showed itself a year ago when it was announced across the land that the sorcerer would be taking the newest Northern ship and several heirs and spares on a voyage to raid Valyria. The timing was atrocious. If the sorcerer and the bastard were not around during Robb's nameday celebration, then they couldn't kill them or place the blame at their feet. Personally, he'd wanted to delay the coup. But Roose had cautioned patience. They had nearly a year to reach Valyria and return. And considering the already significant amount of coin and effort that had gone into procuring several needed assets, it wasn't easy to just simply delay the attempt until the next opportunity.

But the gods seemed to smile on their plot as, with less two months until the set date, word arrived that the sorcerer had returned to Westeros soil and was making his way back North. Then after Starks announcement of the wedding of the sorcerer to that upstart serving girl, they knew that they would never have a better opportunity. The sorcerer was a man that was well known to be cautious. But even the most cautious of men let down their guard during their own wedding celebration. So, with less than a few days before Robb's nameday, the decision was made to move the attack to the sorcerer's wedding celebration.

And things had started off perfectly to plan. The sorcerer was clearly enamored with his new bride and had let down his guard. The servants, many of whom idolized the whore because of her upbringing, had also let loose enough so that they didn't notice the subtle change of guards or the switching of wine. And throughout the celebration, Ludd and his son Torrhen had kept to their parts by making sure that those who were most loyal to the Starks; namely the Karstarks, Umbers, Mormonts and Manderly's were supplied with enough drink to ensure that they would not be able to interfere with what was about to happen.

Then it happened. The sorcerer downed the wine with the poison and true to their benefactor's words it had taken effect almost immediately. He could still feel the rush of glee that'd surged within him when the sorcerer had been bent over, clawing at his throat and gut while desperately trying to breathe. But that had been the end of their good fortune. In order to ensure that sorcerer was indeed put down, Roose had selected two of the best marksmen amongst the assassins and had given them the task of putting a pair of crossbow bolts through the sorcerer's and his little whore's hearts. But the first assassin had missed. And instead of piercing the sorcerer's heart, the bolt had instead buried itself into the man's shoulder. Then, gods only knew how, the sorcerer had managed to get his arm out to shield his little whore from the second bolt, thereby saving her life.

Even with the immediate failure to end the sorcerer, there'd still been hope. The hall had descended into chaos as the attack began and the sorcerer was unable to use his magic. After watching the sorcerer stumble and two close allies of Stark fall, Ludd had thought that they'd salvaged the coup. Then it all went to shite. His eldest son Torrhen and his master-at-arms Harys had descended upon the unsuspecting sorcerer with their daggers, ready to end his life. The sorcerer reached out and grabbed both his son and Harys by the throats. He had no words for what happened next, but the sorcerer had turned both his son and Harys into little more than lifeless husks. And in doing so he seemingly cured himself of the poison as if their very lives were the antidotes to the poison.

Ludd had known then and there that it was over. Even more so after he watched the sorcerer turn a man to dust with that strange magic of his. Seeing that, he knew there was no hope. The tides of the fight within the hall immediately turned as the sellswords and assassins started throwing down their arms and surrendering, no doubt hoping for some form of mercy. But those of the North knew better. There would be no mercy. Not for this. So Ludd had launched himself at the sorcerer, hoping to either kill the man who'd taken his son from him or to be killed. Before he could even reach him, something had struck him across the back of his head. And he was just barely able to make out the image of his attacker as one of the bards he knew wasn't part of the plot before the man's fist met his face. Then he woke up here, chained like an animal waiting for its turn to be slaughtered.

" Seven protect us. May the Mother grant her mercy upon us. May the Father grant us his strength. M –"

" Shut your fucking mouth Andal shite! It's bad enough just sitting here in our shite, I don't want to listen to your shite as well! "

Cracking open an eye, Ludd peered through bars into the dimly lit dungeon. No doubt one of the squires that had accompanied the knights of the Vale. The little shit had been rambling non-stop for mercy and protection for the past day. And it appeared that Lord Ryswell had finally ran out of patience with the boy. Even Ludd, who's House was one of the few Northern Houses that followed the Seven, had run out with patience with the boy's endless groveling and praying for mercy and protection. The Seven had no power, not here in the heart of the North were the hold gods were at the height of their power. If they had, then their plan would've worked like it'd supposed to have.

Already knowing another argument was about to take place over matters of faith or blame, Ludd closed his eyes once more and did his best to block out the arguing. They were scared. At least the younger lads were, and their fear was making them irrational. What they didn't realize though was that there was no point in worrying about what was about to happen. To an extent, their fear was understandable. They had just tried to assassinate the Warden of the North and his entire family. Their lives were forfeit. Unless you were smart and had a contingency plan in place to buy your freedom. Which Ludd had. He doubted that he would be able to keep his place as of Lord of Highpoint, but at the very least he would be able to buy his freedom and live out the rest of his days in Essos. He would be an exile, but he would still be alive. And he knew just the angle to use on Lord Stark. The man was known for his impeccable honor and his distaste for the great game. Which also made him quite a fool in Ludd's opinion. He would play the foolish Lord Stark like a fiddle and ensure his head stayed firmly attached to his shoulders and be across the Narrow Sea in a moon's turn or two at most.

He'd been so engrossed in his own planning, that he hadn't even noticed that all the arguing outside of his cell had ceased. Nor had he noticed that the air had grown steadily colder until it was at the point where he started shivering. 'Cold? ' He shivered, holding out his hands and breathing into them, yet failing to see his own breath in the dim light. 'No. It's…it's not cold in here yet…yet why am I so cold? What…what is this? '

Footsteps. Slow methodical footsteps were the only answer he was given as the cold seemed to press down on his very soul. 'Not cold. Fear. What…who can cause such. No…gods please no. ' His entire being shaking like a leaf in the wind, Ludd slowly inched towards the bars of his cell, trying to see who was coming. Yet in his heart, he already knew. There was only one who could cause this cold. This fear. He read about this countless times. Yet never in his wildest dreams had he ever imagined it would be like this. 'Don't be alone. Don't be alone. Don't be alone. Seven, don't let him be alone! '

But as he feared, the Seven could not hear his prayers. And as he stared down the darkened line of cells, he felt his stomach drop as the shadows almost seemed to move as perhaps the one individual he never wanted to see again emerged from the darkness into the dim light of the torches. His black cloak and black clothes almost making him seem like one with the darkness behind him. Shrinking back from the bards, Ludd grasped his hands together tightly to cease their shaking as the Sorcerer slowly made his way down the line of cells before stopping and the end and making his way back towards the beginning.

" Please my lord! " The young praying boy, who Ludd now recognized as Ser Corbray's squire Mychel Redfort, cried out as the sorcerer passed him by. " Please! I had nothing to do with whatever happened! Please sir! I – I didn't know or do – ahh! "

Ludd winced as the boy was lifted off the ground and slammed into the bars of his cell with an invisible power. " You are the squire to Lyn Corbray, " the sorcerer stated, his voice cold and without emotion. " You were in the hall during the feast and were seen encouraging the younger boys to drink as much as they could. "

The squire was visible shaking as he was held in the air against the bars of his cell. A dark spot forming in pants gave testament to just how weak willed the boy truly was. " Ser Corbray told me to make sure the younger boys enjoyed the celebration! And told me the best way to do that was to see how much they could all drink! That – that was all! I – I didn't kno-"

" Shut the hell up Redfort! " A man from the Vale, this one situated directly across from Ludd yet one he didn't recognize, shouted at the struggling squire. " Be a fucking man you coward and keep your mouth shut! "

Mychel dropped to the floor with a grunt as the boy was released from whatever had a hold on him. Turning, the sorcerer made his way until he was standing before the Vale man that'd just spoken. " What? " The Vale man shouted as Nox stood between the two of them, just his mere presence enough to make Ludd start to shutter once more. " Do you…think I'm scared of you? A heathen bastard? A walking talking affront to the Seven-Who-Are-One? I'm not! The Seven are my shield against your foul magic! "

The sorcerer merely tilted his head as if observing some oddity. " Then you are a fool. " Nox stated in the same plain manner before turning and walking back down the line of cells. " There is a chance that some of you, like this boy here, might just be able to survive what is to come. A slim chance. But still a chance. But for the rest of you, your deaths are all assured. The only choice you have right now is how much pain you are willing to put yourselves and your loved ones through before you meet your end. "

" Pain? " He heard the voice of Lady Dustin scoff, he hadn't even been aware that she was in the cells with the rest of them, though he should have. " Stark does not have the strength for such methods. The south made him soft. At worst, he'll smack us on the head and send us to bed without supper. "

" You'd be surprised, " Nox remarked back, " just what a person is willing to do to protect or avenge their family Lady Dustin. But I promise you, you will learn in time. Now, I give you all this one chance. Your guilt is unquestionable. But there is one thing that we will learn from you before you meet your end. And that is who was aiding you. And don't even try and deny it. None of you here have the brains nor resources to put together a plot this elaborate on your own. So, does anyone wish to speak now before we begin. "

Ludd felt his heart drop. They knew. They knew that there was another involved in the planning. And while he'd been hoping to use the information to shock Stark into giving him favorable terms, the situation was still salvageable. Perhaps even better as he was not only willing to give out said information, but because he had proof of their involvement. Something that he knew for a fac the others did not considering just how well their benefactors covered their tracks. " Hey sorcerer! " The Vale knight across from Ludd shouted before he could gain the man's attention, " how's the wife and kid? "

Ludd swore the temperature dropped significantly as the shadows created by the torch light almost seemed to dance around them in some odd macabre spectacle that sent shivers of fear down his spine. Yet, the sorcerer just stood there with his back turned to the Vale knight seemingly completely calm in the center of the cells as the man laughed and continued his taunt. " It's too bad, that woman was a fine piece of ass. Too bad she couldn't have enjoyed a real cock for once in her life before s – ahh! "

The sorcerer didn't move from his spot, yet the knight lurched forward and pressed himself against the bars. Much in the same manner as the young squire had. But unlike the squire, who was simply held there, the knight kept getting pressed hard and harder into the bars of the cell. " Trying to taunt me into making a mistake and quickly killing you. A move that would perhaps work on an amateur. But I am no amateur. " The knight started to scream, an unholy sound that Ludd hadn't even known was possible for a grown man to make as head was pressed through the narrow spaces of the bars, followed by his shoulders. " But your idiocy will only serve to prove my point as to what is to come. "

Ludd watched in horrid fascination as the knight was squeezed through the spacing between the bars of his cell that couldn't be more than a hands width apart at best. His bones cracked and broke as his body was molded to fit through the space. Yet despite the seemingly fatal injuries he was receiving, the man didn't die. He just, kept screaming. Even after all his ribs broke and even as blood started flowing freely from his mouth he kept screaming as he was slowly dragged through the bars. 'This – this isn't possible! ' Ludd wanted to cry out as he watched the man's hips fold and break, the knight unable to keep thrashing about and instead just moaning loudly in agony. 'He – he should be dead! His – his bones should've pierced his heart! No one can survive this! But – but how? How is this…'

" As you can see, " the sorcerer continued in the same almost bored tone as the knight was dragged completely through the bars, only to be dropped into a bloody limp heap on the ground, the knight still moaning in agony, " your definitions of pain and suffering and mere child's play when compared to mine. Unlike your pathetic excuse for tortures, I can twist and manipulate the Force to keep an individual alive even after I've ruptured every organ and broken every bone in your body. "

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