Chapter 17 2 страница

Leaning back, Ned gave the kneeling man a hard look. " Very well. Lord Royce, your verdict. "

" Guilty, Lord Stark, " the lord from the Vale answered without hesitation.

" Ser Brynden Tully. Your verdict. "

" Guilty! " The uncle to the late Lady Stark responded almost before Ned could even finish speaking.

" And I, Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell, Warden of the North, do hereby find you six guilty of attempted sedition and assassination of no less than two noble houses of Westeros. The penalty is death, to be carried out tomorrow at sundown. Guards, take them away and bring forth the next of the accused. "

The guards immediately stepped forward and grabbed each of the kneeling former Lords and Lady by their bound arms before forcing them to their feet and then marching them out of the hall. Once the first round of prisoners was gone, the guards started forcing the rest of the prisoners forward and to stand, or kneel, before the three Lords to receive their judgement. While Nox could appreciate the need for Ned to uphold the law, the entire process was incredibly tedious and Nox found his attention wandering further and further as the process dragged on for several hours. More than a few of those that'd been captured had tried to beg for their lives by pleading either ignorance of their actions or by trying to giving some sob story about how they were 'forced' to participate due to their Lord ordering them to do so. Some even tried to buy their freedom by offering that their Houses, or those they were sworn too, would pay a ransom for their return.

Their pleas, sob stories, or offers of ransom might have worked on a few Lords or Ladies, but the Starks were not amongst those that could be so easily swayed. Ned did let each man say his peace, but the result was always the same. The prisoners were given the choice between one of two outcomes. The Black or the block. Unsurprisingly, almost all took the block with only a few exceptions amongst those that were not originally of Westeros.

As the trials began to stretch beyond midday, Nox had pretty much completely stopped paying attention. 'Force…This was so much easier back in the Empire. If someone had tried to pull some shit like this back then, I could simply kill everyone and leave either Imperial Intelligence or someone else to clean up the bodies or deal with the paperwork. I miss that simplicity. '

Hearing a commotion from the crowd, Nox finally started paying attention to the proceedings once more as three young men were dragged into the hall and forced to their knees before Lord Stark. 'Oh? This should be interesting, ' Nox thought as he saw through the Force that all three were barely even able to keep themselves upright even a full day after Nox was done questioning them. Unlike many others who bent almost immediately to his questioning, these three held strong in their conviction that they had not truly committed a crime, but rather a service to the North.

" Roger Ryswell. Rickard Ryswell. Roose Ryswell, sons of Rodrik Ryswell, you three have been brought before us today accused of crimes against the North, " Ned said loudly and clearly, letting the entirety of the hall know just who was kneeling before him. " Under questioning by Lord Nox, you three have admitted to the rape and murder of Septa Mordane as well as the destruction of the Sept that had been constructed for Lady Stark's personal use. Do you three have anything to say in your defense before you are judged here today? "

" Crimes against the North? " the eldest son, Roger Ryswell, growled as he spat upon the floor. " The only one here who has committed crimes against the North here is you, Stark! For thousands of years, we have repelled the Andals and their false gods from the North! We kept to the true gods of Westeros! Yet, you, a man who has never even been fully of the North, spat upon our people and your own ancestors when you ordered the creation of that accursed Sept in the middle of Winterfell! The heart of the North and seat of the true gods! All because you didn't want to upset your cunt of a southern wife! "

Jumping out of his seat, the Blackfish glared down at the three kneeling men. " Have a care how you speak! That is – was – my niece and the Lady Stark you are disrespecting! "

" Doesn't change the fact she was a cunt that couldn't accept the ways of the North! " Rickard shouted back, coming to his brother's defenses. " Just ask any of the ladies here! They were under constant pressure from 'Lady Stark' to abandon our millennia of tradition and bring Septas into the North to 'properly' raise our daughters! She never gave two shits about even trying to learn the ways of the North and instead expected us to match her! And our weak-willed southern-raised new Lord Stark bent over backwards like a pathetic cuckold to his bitch of a wife! "

The hall exploded in an avalanche of noise as people either came to the defense of Lady Stark or voiced their agreements with what the young Ryswell lad had said. Though, the latter was being drowned out by the former by a wide margin and largely went almost completely unheard save for by Nox who could just barely pick them up with his Force enhanced hearing.

" Silence! " Ned finally yelled at the top of his lungs after several failed attempts to bring order back to the room. Once the noise finally died back down, Ned brought his attention back to the three kneeling before him. " Religious differences do not justify rape and murder. Regardless of whether you believe your actions were in service to the North, or your feelings towards myself and the way I have acted as Lord and Warden of the North. The fact the remains that you brutalized and burned a woman to death in the home of another after receiving guest rites. You have confessed to your crimes both under questioning and here today. Should you have anything else to say, say it. Otherwise, we will hand down our verdict. "

" Verdict, ha! " Roger Ryswell laughed. " We all know what you will say. This whole 'trial' is just a farce. And I will not be subject to your whims any longer! I will put my fate in my own hands and demand a trial by combat as is my right by the laws of the gods! "

If he were being honest, Nox was more than a little surprised that it had taken this long for anyone to try and use such a method to escape Ned's judgement. Considering that the perpetrators had literally been caught with the daggers in their hands, it was pretty much the only hope they had of escaping without punishment. Of course, it was akin to a snowball's chance on Tatooine. But it was still a chance. Though, Nox was more than a little curious as just how Ned would proceed from this point.

" That is your right, " Ned agreed, his face set. " Will you champion yourself, or name one? "

Roger scoffed, " I'm a true Northerner, Stark! I will champion myself! And we all know just who you will choose as your champion. So, prove your cowardice before the entirety of the North as you name your pet as your champion! "

'So that's his angle, ' Nox thought, derisively. 'Even now with his head all but on the block, he's trying to prove to the North that Ned is incapable of ruling these lands like a 'true northerner'. It could've been a good ploy, but at this point it is far too little too late. If they truly wanted to discredit and erode Stark's hold on the North through this route, they should've started years ago by using expendable assets that would fall into this situation. It could've worked. But still, far too little and far too late now to try and convince these people that Ned is not the man for the job of ruling the North. '

Standing just before his seat, Ned stared down at the kneeling prisoners. His aura fluctuating wildly between a barely contained fury and a righteous rage. " Very well, " Ned said calmly, despite the war of emotions battling within him.

" Lord Stark! " The Greatjon shouted, rising to his feet. " There is no need for the Sorcerer to stain his hands with this filth! I'll deal with him myself! "

" You can't even grab your cock correctly yet, Umber, let alone your sword, " Maege Mormont laughed, rising to her feet as well, her one good eye turning towards Ned. " I will stand as champion for the North. "

One by one, the Lords and even some of the Ladies of the North stood up and voiced their wish to represent the North in the trial by combat. Even Robb and Jon attempted to throw their lot in with the rest of them. Attempted being the keyword of course, as Nox had forcibly pulled both boys back down to their asses the moment they began to rise. It wasn't that he didn't believe that either boy could take the Ryswell lad, he knew that both would be able to firmly hand the young man his ass on a platter. But now was neither the time nor the place for them to show off their abilities. A challenge had been laid down. And while Nox, and even the other loyal Northern Lords and Ladies, knew that Ned had nothing to prove to them, Nox knew that his friend's sense of honor would demand that he meet the challenge head on.

After a moment of holding up his hand, Ned silenced the crowd. " Your offers of championship have been noted and are appreciated. But a man of the North does not ask of others that which he is unwilling to do himself. " Reaching up to his neckline, the great hall stayed completely silent as Ned began to loosen the ties and undo the buttons on his doublet. " You wish to fight as a man of the North? Then that is exactly what we will do. As men, in the old ways of the North. No weapons. No armor. No magic. Man to man. Guards, unbind him. The trial by combat of Roger Ryswell will begin now. "

Tossing his doublet and under shirt aside, Ned calmly stepped down from the dais bare-chested and waited as Roger was hoisted up to his feet by two Stark guards and set free of his bindings. Beside him, Nox could sense the spikes of fear coming from the Stark children. Though, he did note that the only ones who were truly afraid were Sansa and Bran. Jon and Robb were both confident in the outcome but still concerned nonetheless. Only Arya lacked any fear. If anything, her aura was screaming excitement for what was about to transpire before them.

Walking to the center of the room, Ned waited as the younger man by at least a decade was stripped down to his pants only, leaving him bare-chested just like the Warden of the North. Once both were confirmed to be unarmed, a ring of men circled around the two, separating them from the rest of the crowd.

" I'm actually surprised, Stark, " Roger said, cracking his knuckles and rolling his shoulders. " Didn't think a want-to-be southerner like yourself would have the balls to stand up like this. But it won't do you any good…old man! "

Launching at forward, Ryswell cocked his arm back and launched a wild haymaker towards Stark. But Stark merely sidestepped the wild attack and pushed it aside with his right hand before following up with a quick jab from the left right into Ryswell's floating ribs. Just as Nox had shown him how to do countless times before. While certainly not a master of the art, Ned had taken to the Sith style of unarmed combat almost naturally.

" Fuck! " Ryswell cried out, backing off and holding onto the spot where Stark's fist had landed. " Not bad for an old man! "

The fight, if it could even be called that, proceeded exactly as Nox had anticipated it to. The Ryswell lad had obviously thought that because he was at least ten years Lord Stark's junior and very physically fit meant that he would be able to easily beat Ned in a straight on fight. But the Warden of the North was quickly and thoroughly disproving that. Every move that the younger man launched, Ned calmly countered with a parry or grapple before hitting back with an attack of his own. Within ten minutes of the start of their fight, Ned was still standing tall and calm, his breath only slightly labored. Roger, on the other hand, was bent over gasping desperately for breath while trickles of blood ran from the corners of his mouth and down from his nose.

" Fucking summer bastard! " Ryswell shouted, throwing another haymaker only to have Ned deflect the attack and retaliate with another fist to the side of the head.

" This fight is over, boy, " Ned said coldly as he stared down at the kneeling Ryswell. " You've lost. "

Spitting out a wad of blood, Roger slowly rose to his full height, his aura screaming with a murderous intent. " Like hell it's over, bastard! This fight will only be over after I bash your fucking skull in! Then I'll take your daughters and do to them exactly what we did to that fucking bit—! "

Ned moved so fast that Nox doubted many even saw him do so before he struck, his fist colliding with the young fool right at the base of his throat. Roger staggered back, clutching at his throat and coughing as he tried to regain his breath and recover, but Ned didn't give him the chance. His friend's aura had shifted completely into a rage that he had rarely, if ever, seen him in. Rushing forward, Ned put his shoulder into the younger man's gut and tackled him to the ground. Now straddling the young Ryswell, Ned raised his fist and brought it down with a bone breaking force right into the young man's face.

Then he brought it down again. And again. And again. Within a few hard strikes, Roger had stopped even trying to defend as his body reached its limit and all he could do was lay there and receive the beating that was being rained down upon him by Lord Stark. After several moments of continuous punching, Ned grabbed the lad by the hair and picked his head up before slamming it down hard against the stone floor. Then he did it again. Then again until finally the back of Rogers head gave out and painted the floor beneath him in blood and gore.

With the bloodlusting rage finally leaving him, Nox watched along with the rest of those assembled as Lord Stark climbed off the now nearly headless corpse he'd been straddling. While Nox couldn't see in the conventional sense, he knew that his friend's face and chest was covered in blood spittle from the Ryswell lad. All in all, it was quite the statement and showing from his normally reserved friend. And one that he full heartedly approved of.

Without a word spoken, Ned then stepped over the freshly-made-corpse and stood before the remaining two Ryswell brothers. " You two have two choices, " he said, his voice low and steady and as the torrent of rage within him began to settle. " Gelding and the Black. Or the block. Decide. Now. "

What little courage the two brothers had left had disappeared along with their elder brother. Even the one who had spoken so brazenly was now a single harsh word away from pissing himself. " The – The Black, " the elder of the two remaining stammered, which was echoed shortly thereafter by the younger.

" Very well. Guards! " Ned shouted, prompting two of the awestruck guards to snap to attention. " Bring these two back down the cells. They're to be gelded before they head North with my brother to take the Black. "

The two guards quickly nodded and grabbed the two remaining Ryswell boys by the arms and half-lead half-dragged the two out of the hall. Turning his back on their departure, Ned almost made it back to where he'd left his clothes when he finally seemed to realize just what state he was in.

" We will be breaking for the midday meal, " he called out to the hall while gathering his clothes and holding him in his arms. " Someone see to it that Roger Ryswell's body is removed and disposed of. Dismissed. " And without even waiting to see if his orders were being carried out, Ned walked out of the great hall towards with his clothes in his hands and his head held high.

" Gods, " Robb breathed as the various people of the North began to disperse from the hall as two guards picked up Roger Ryswell's body. " I – I never thought I'd see father in such a rage. "

Gripping Nyra's hand tightly, Nox turned his attention towards the Stark children. All of whom were in varying degrees of shock. " Everyone has their breaking point, Robb, " he explained, rising to his feet and helping Nyra to hers. " And when that fool threatened your sisters with a fate similar to the one that'd fallen upon Septa Mordane, your father reached that point. "

" Wh – What can we do? " Sansa asked, the young girl clearly shaken up by the brutality that she'd just witnessed.

" Go to your father, children, " Nyra answered before he could, his wife making sure to meet each of the Stark children's eyes as she did. " He may not seem like it, but he needs you now. "

The children didn't need much more convincing as Sansa pretty much all but dragged her brothers and sister out of the great hall after their father. Even Jon had been dragged along as well as Sansa had taken the time to grab him by his arm and pull him along with the rest of them, which only seemed to deepen his slightly shocked state of this happening.

" Well, " Nyra breathed, seemingly lighter now in both her physical appearance and her aura. " At least that's over now. "

" No, " Nox replied, shaking his head and taking her hand. " It has only just begun, my love. "

Settling back into the routine of the ongoing trials was rough for Ned, especially after spending the midday meal with his children. To many, this simple event would've been trivial at best. But for him, and especially now given the tragedy they'd suffered only a few days past and what'd just transpired with the Ryswell lad, the meal with his children was a waterskin of ice given to a man dying of thirst amidst the sands of Dorne. He hadn't wanted to return to the great hall to conclude the trials. But, again, as Lord and Warden of the North, he was not allowed such luxury. He'd been forced to end his time with his children far sooner than he would've liked and returned to his duties of dispensing justice upon those who'd wronged the North.

Mercifully enough, after the trial by combat and the display he'd put on, everyone who was brought before him admitted their guilt and volunteered to take the Black without hesitation. Which in turn lifted the burden of having to decide their fates off his, Lord Royce, and Ser Tully's shoulders. Within no time at all, the last of the perpetrators, Gryff Whitehill, was brought before the three of them. And just like all the others that'd been presented, the youngest son of House Whitehill immediately dropped to his knees, admitted his guilt, and all but begged to take the Black. But despite the trials of those who'd been caught in the act being over, Ned knew that his day was just truly beginning. And unfortunately, he could no longer count on the aid of Lord Royce or Ser Tully for what needed to occur now.

After Gryff Whitehill was removed from the great hall, Ned stood up and raised his voice for all to hear. " The North thanks Lord Yohn Royce and Ser Brynden Tully for their aid in dispensing justice this day. Your aid and services to the North shall be remembered, my Lords. But now that we must deal with matters pertaining only to the North, I ask that you join your men in the hall. "

Lord Royce and Ser Brynden both nodded and with nary a word between the two of them got up and left him alone upon the dais. Hardening himself, Ned made sure he had the attention of everyone in the hall. " The fate of those who betrayed the North with their actions has been decided. But now we must deal with the fallout of those who remain. I call for the last remaining child of Ludd Whitehill, Lady Gwyn Whitehill, to stand before me now. "

A young woman, perhaps only five years or so older than his son Robb, rose to her feet from the stands and made her way before him. The girl showed spirit, he would give her that much. Despite the heated looks being sent at her, she held herself with the composure of a seasoned Lady with her head held high and her back straight without an inkling of fear on her face. A true northern woman. Arriving before him, the only daughter of Ludd Whitehill dropped into a deep curtsey, her eyes never leaving his own, " Lord Stark. I am Lady Gwyn Whitehill. "

" Lady Whitehill, " Ned returned the greeting. " Your father conspired against myself, House Stark, and the North to violate the laws of gods and men in an attempt to elevate his position. Your brothers were part of this plot as well. Yet during the questioning of your father and after listening to the testimony of those who were with you during the attack, I am inclined to believe that you had no knowledge of your father's intent. Yet still, I must ask, and I do so only once. Did you, Lady Gwyn Whitehill, have any knowledge of your father's and your House's involvement in the plot that sought to put an end to House Stark and several other Northern Houses? "

Gwyn did not falter as she stood tall before him. " No, Lord Stark. I had no knowledge of my father's or my brother's intentions when we set out for Winterfell. Nor did I know of their actions until the morning after their failed attempt on your life and the lives of so many here today. And I can only thank the gods old and new that they failed. "

" Fucking horse shit, " the Greatjon spat from his spot near the front of the hall. " Your father, your brothers, and your fucking bannermen all knew what was going on, yet you say you don't? A fucking lie if I ever heard one. "

A glint of steel appeared in the young woman's eyes as she turned and faced down the large Lord of Last Hearth. " Believe what you will, Lord Umber. But I speak only the truth. Due to…recent events, my father did not trust me to sew his tunic, let alone provide knowledge of an attempt against the lives of Lord Stark, Lord Nox, and their families. "

As she spoke, Ned listened carefully to every word that left her and paid close attention to her faint presence in the Force. She didn't hesitate and neither did her voice or her presence waver in the slightest as she spoke. Every word was she spoke was the truth.

" We do not place the sins of the parent on their children, Lord Umber, " Ned said, clearly surprising nearly everyone present. " I believe you, Lady Whitehill. And I find you personally not responsible for the actions of your father or your House. Yet, the question remains: what shall be done now? "

Taking a breath, Lady Gwyn faced him full on, her face once again set in stone. " With your blessing and aid, Lord Stark, I would return to Highpoint and see it set to rights. I would find any and all who had any knowledge of my father's actions and have them brought to justice. I would seek to right the wrongs my House has committed against House Stark, House Nox, and the North. And I will spend the rest of my days showing that your faith in me was not misplaced. "

It was a monumental task, and one that he did not think would be accomplished in his lifetime or in his children's. And judging by the look in her eye, she knew that what she'd just laid out before him was an impossible task as well. The name Whitehill would be forever more cursed by those of the North. Just as the name Bolton, Ryswell, Dustin and Stout would be. But she was determined to walk the road, regardless. And yet…perhaps there was another way. Not to recover what House Whitehill had lost, but rather to be reborn anew. " I heard tell that some moons ago that you had an affair with a son of House Forrester, Asher if I am not mistaken. Is this true, Lady Gwyn? "

The sudden change in topic clearly unsettled the young lady. " Aye, Lord Stark. Asher and I – we – "

" There is no need to go into details, Lady Gwyn, " Ned said, raising a hand to halt her from revealing too much. " When your affair became known, your father demanded retribution. Which resulted in Asher being exiled from the North, is that correct? "

Again, Lady Gwyn looked clearly unsettled and embarrassed. " Aye, my Lord. You have the right of it. "

" Lord Forrester, " Ned called out, turning his attention to where he knew the few Forresters that had come to Winterfell were gathered.

" Aye, Lord Stark? " Gregor Forrester, the Lord of Ironrath, said rising to his feet.

" Have you had any contact with your son since he was sent into exile? " Ned asked.

Gregor shuffled in place, clearly uneasy with the topic of conversation. " No, Lord Stark. Once his affair with Lady Gwyn became widely known and Ludd demanded blood, I – I ordered Asher into exile in Essos to stop the bloodshed. But I have yet to hear from him since he left the North. "

" Then you two have quite the task before you then, " Ned stated before turning his attention back to Gwyn. " I admire your strength, my lady, and your desire to bring your House back from this. But I fear that such a feat will be impossible. And you know that as well. But while House Whitehill will never return to its status, there is a chance for a new House to be born here today. I am hereby lifting Asher Forrester's exile, effective immediately. Lady Gwyn Whitehill, Lord Gregor Forrester. I am charging the two of you with finding Asher and returning him to the North. Upon his return, he and the Lady Gwyn will marry. And from their union a new House shall be formed, neither Forrester nor Whitehill. Do either of you have any objections to this union? "

Gregor, his wife Elissa, and their eldest son Rodrik all seemed elated by the decision. And though she hid it well, Ned could sense the joy emanating from Gwyn Whitehill as well. " I – I have no objections, Lord Stark, " Gregor stammered after receiving a discreet elbow in the side from his Lady wife.

" Neither do I, Lord Stark, " Gwyn added quickly.

" Then the matter is settled, " Ned said with a note of finality. " Lady Gwyn, Lord Gregor. Once you two have returned Asher Forrester to the North, he shall wed Lady Gwyn and the two shall create a new House which shall hold Highpoint as their seat. "

" Thank you, Lord Stark, " Lady Gwyn said, curtseying low and lowering her eyes. " I promise you: you shall not regret this mercy and faith you have shown today. "

With that matter settled, Ned dismissed the girl while mentally preparing himself for who he was about to see next. " Domeric of House Bolton. Step forth. "

When the young lad, only a few years older than his sons, stepped forth it was all Ned could do not to leap out of his seat and attack the boy. He looked exactly like Roose had when the two had fought together during Robert's Rebellion. He had the same pale eyes and pale skin. Hells, they both even wore their hair in the exact same manner.

" Lord Stark, " the young Bolton heir said as he went to a knee before him, his head bowed in submission.

Ned knew that this was perhaps going to be the most difficult of his decisions today. He knew what he wanted to do. Gods knew what he wanted to do to the boy who so resembled the man that was at least partially responsible for the death of his wife and son. But he knew that while he might gain a moment of satisfaction, and hells it might be the safest of options to take, it was simply not right. He could not and would not hold the sins of the father against the son. If he did…then he would be honor bound to end Jon's life here and now. And that was definitely something that he would not do.

Folding his hands under his chin, Ned carefully observed the young man kneeling before him. Nox had informed him that Roose had purposefully left his son in ignorance as a failsafe incase things went wrong. The Leech Lord was counting on Ned giving the heir to the Dreadfort a simple slap on the wrist and send him on his way, as the Starks had done in the past. Unfortunately for Bolton's plans, Ned was also a student of history. This was not the first, nor the second, nor even the third time the former Red Kings had tried to overthrow the Starks from their position. In the past, the only reason the Starks had allowed the line to continue was to make sure that the ruling Starks never grew too complacent. But Ned was not his ancestors. And he would not be making the same mistake as them.

" Domeric Bolton, " Ned began at long last. " While under questioning, your father admitted that he kept you in ignorance of his plans. There were those present at the feast that spoke of the way you jumped in to fight against the assassins that your father and his allies brought into Winterfell. And as I did with Lady Gwyn, I will now do the same with you and ask you a single time: did you have any knowledge of your father's plot against myself and mine? "

The young heir to the Dreadfort raised his head as pale eyes met the eyes of a wolf. " No, Lord Stark. I knew nothing of what my father intended to do until the moment the attack began. "

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