Chapter 17 3 страница

" And tell me, Domeric, " Ned pressed. " Had you known of your father's plot, would you have informed myself or Lord Nox of the attempt in order to prevent the attack? "

At this, the young man froze. " Lord Stark, I am a son of House Bolton and yet you ask if I would betray my father. So, let me ask you, my Lord: would you have betrayed your father in a such a manner? "

'Answering without actually answering, but the meaning is clear. Even if it does not sit well with my bannermen. ' " Your honestly is appreciated, Domeric, " Ned replied, not bothering to answer as they both knew what it would be. " I have said many times here today that I will not hold the sins of the father against his children. But I fear that the history of House Bolton and House Stark make that decision difficult. House Bolton has revolted against House Stark more than once since House Stark claimed lordship of the North. Each time, my ancestors allowed yours to retain their seat only for House Bolton to immediately return to plotting the fall of House Stark. I cannot and will not allow this pattern to continue. I, Lord Eddard Stark, Warden of the North, do hereby banish House Bolton forever more from the lands of the North on pain of death. Domeric Bolton, you will be allowed to return to the Dreadfort under guard and collect whatever you can carry. You will then be escorted to White Harbor and placed upon the first ship out of port to live out the rest of your days as you see fit. Or, if you so choose, you may take the Black. But, from this day forth, House Bolton will no longer be of the North, nor welcome in the North. "

The simplest option would have been to either have Domeric executed or to have him serve out the rest of his life at the Wall, but that would put him on the same grouping as Tywin Lannister. And while he was forcing five Northern Houses into extinction in the North, he would not stoop so low as to kill those who did not deserve it.

" I – I will take exile, Lord Stark. " Domeric said after a long, drawn out silence. " And I will find new fortune in Essos. "

" So be it, " Ned nodded, motioning towards some of his guards to stand beside Domeric. " On the morrow, you will be escorted to the Dreadfort to collect whatever you can carry and then you will be escorted to White Harbor until a ship is ready to sail. "

Not saying a word, the young Bolton nodded his acceptance of his fate before disappearing once more into the crowed with his two Stark guard escorts. " Lastly, I would hear from Mychel Redfort of House Redfort and squire to the false knight, Lyn Corbray. "

The youngest son of Lord Horton Redfort of the Vale was pushed out from the crowd and made to stand before Ned. The boy, for that was what he was as he couldn't have been more than year older than his own sons, was visibly shaking before him. " Y–Yes, Lord Stark. "

Leaning forward, Ned fixed the boy with a hard look. " During the night of the attack, you were seen to have been encouraging the younger guards, heirs, and even my sons to drink as much as they could. Because of your actions, those who perhaps could have aided when the attack began were unable to do so. During your questioning by Lord Nox, you admitted that you did so under the direction of Lyn Corbray. Yet claim that, despite your actions, you knew nothing of the attack before it began. I want you to look me in the eyes, boy, and answer me honestly. Do you swear on the old gods and the new, and on your family honor, that you knew nothing of what your master had planned? "

The young squire all but collapsed to the ground in a heap as he lowered his face to the point where he was near kissing the stones beneath his feet. " I – I swear, Lord Stark, " Mychal began before pausing as he seemed to remember what Ned had demanded of him as he raised his face so he could look the boy in the eye. " I swear on the gods old and new, and upon my family honor, Lord Stark, I knew nothing of what Se – the false knight had planned. Please, my Lord… Please have mercy. "

The boy was petrified. Yet there was no lie in him. He truly did not know of the attack before it happened.

" Lord Stark? " Domeric Bolton called out from his spot near the back of the crowd. " While I am no longer a man of the North, I would ask that you allow myself to speak on young Mychal's behalf. "

Leaning back, Ned nodded towards Domeric. " Speak. "

" Thank you, Lord Stark, " Domeric nodded before stepping out from the crowd. " My Lords, I speak now not as a son of House Bolton, but rather as the squire for Lord Horton Redfort, father of young Mychal here. I've known young Mychal here for several years, well before he entered the service of Corbray. He is a good lad, kind and faithful to the laws of gods and men. I truly believe that, had he had any inkling as to the true intention of his master or the others involved in the attack, he would've done everything he could to inform yourself beforehand. Even if it cost him his life. "

It was a powerful testimony, only hampered by the fact that it was Domeric who'd delivered it. " Thank you, Domeric, " Ned said, motioning for the former heir of House Bolton to step back. " Are there any others who would speak in young Mychel's defense? "

" I would speak on his behalf, Lord Stark, " Lord Royce spoke, moving quickly to extract himself from the crowd and step out into the middle of the great hall. " I may not know young Mychel here, Lord Stark. But I know his father and I know his elder brothers. And I agree with young Domeric Bolton. Had Mychel had any inclination of the plan to assassinate yourself, Lord Nox, and your families, I believe he would have done everything he could to inform you of the plot well before it could take place. I have no hesitation in vouching for his innocence, my Lord. And I will take responsibility for any actions he might commit during his remaining time here in the North. "

" Very well, " Ned nodded, turning his attention away from Lord Royce and back to the still-shaking squire. " Mychel Redfort, I hereby find you innocent of the crimes of attempted assassination and sedition against House Stark and House Nox. However, you are hereby prohibited from ever stepping foot onto Northern soil again. Is that understood? "

Mychel nearly collapsed as his relief shown through on his face. " Yes, my Lord – Thank you, my Lord! I swear, I will do whatever I can to make this up to House Stark and House Nox! "

As the young squire was dismissed, Ned felt a great burden being lifted from him as he realized that that was the last of the trials to be held. Yet with that release came a new burden. The fact that he would now be tasked with carrying out his sentences. Rising to his feet, Ned waited as the rest of the Lords and Ladies present in the hall rose with him.

" The court of Winterfell is hereby adjourned for the day, " he announced. " At sundown, the execution of the traitors to the North shall commence. Until then, you are all dismissed. "

Sitting perfectly still atop the child-sized stone he'd spent every spare moment of the past few days working on within a small garden situated next to the Sorcerer's Tower in Winterfell, Nox waited in a meditative trance as the sun slowly began to descend towards the horizon. It was nearly time for the moment he'd been waiting for ever since the attempted coup a few days prior. The moment when he would have his first true taste of vengeance against those who'd tried, and failed, to take everything from him once more. He would've preferred to extract his vengeance upon every one of the conspirators, but he knew that was simply not possible. Well, it was. But he wasn't about to deprive the man he truly considered a friend his own vengeance. Plus, there was going to be quite a bit more bloodletting soon. Soon, all would learn just what it meant to try and take that which a Sith holds near and dear to themselves.

Sensing the soothing presence of his wife entering the small garden, Nox pulled himself out of his trance just as his wife and light reached his side. " Alim, " she called out gently.

Getting up and moving over to her, he brought one of her hands up to his lips and kissed the back of her hand. " You don't need to be here for this love. "

Her normally cool aura spiked with anger. " Yes, I do, " she responded, her voice as iron as her will and as cold as the Wall. " These bastards took our son away from us and would've done far worse had their plan not failed. I don't know just what you are planning to do to him. But there is no way that I am missing the chance to see the life leave his eyes as you send him to the hells where he belongs. "

It was moments like these, when Nyra's passion and her resolve shown like a beacon in the Force, that she reminded him so much of Ashara. " Don't worry love, " he said, giving her a half grin as he felt two large groups of people emerging from the dungeons and the main keep before combining and making their way towards the Sorcerer's Tower. " You will get your wish and more. After tonight, people will volunteer for the Wall just for thinking of doing anything to us. I promise you that. "

" Good, " Nyra smile, raising on her toes and pressing her lips to his quickly before breaking off and taking her spot by his side as the group of people came close enough for her to notice them.

Ned was leading the procession with Robb and Jon flanking him on either side and just behind them it seemed as if the entirety of Winterfell had come out in mass to watch what was about to transpire. The only ones that Nox noted were not present were those who would be deemed too young watch the spectacle.

" Lord Nox, Lady Nox. " Ned greeted the two of them before turning and standing beside them.

Once the Lord of Winterfell had taken his place before the mass of people, the six prisoners that were to be executed were brought forth. Though only one of them would meet their fate right now. Signaling to his guards, the two that were holding onto Lyn Corbray pushed the man forward and forced him to his knees before Stark and Nox.

" Ser Lyn Corbray of House Corbray of the Vale, " Nox said out loud so that all could hear him. Normally Ned would be doing this, but as Nox would be the one to 'swing the sword', as it were, Northern tradition demanded that he be the one to pass the sentence. " You have been tried and found guilty of attempted sedition of the North. Of the attempted murder of my wife, Lady Nyra Nox, and for causing the death of our unborn child. For these crimes, in the name of King Robert Baratheon the First, I, Lord Alim Nox, a Lord of the North, do hereby sentence you to die. If you have words to say, say them now. "

From his kneeling position on the ground, Corbray glared menacingly at the three of them before spitting at the ground next to their feet. " I may die here today, but I die knowing that I will be embraced by the Seven-Who-Are-One for doing their work in removing the hellspawn that'd been growing in that whorish heretic's womb. But while I will be embraced by the Seven, you will rot in the Seven hells for your blasphemy! So, take my head, but know that in the end, I will have the last laugh! "

Shaking his head, Nox stepped forward until he was right in front of Corbray and squatted down. " I never took you for a devote and a theologist, Corbray. Especially with your preference towards young boys rather than women in your bed. "

That little tidbit, which he'd plucked from Corbray's mind during his interrogation, drew quite a bit of murmuring as Corbray's aura spiked in anger. " Fuck you heretic hellspawn! "

Ignoring him, Nox began talking while motioning with his hands. " You see, I find myself quite the scholar of theology myself. Or rather the theology and beliefs across differing cultures. It's really a fascinating subject if you investigate it. Especially with how consistent they are with one another with some of their beliefs even as they decry each other for not being the 'correct' belief. And one of these reoccurring themes throughout most theologies is the idea of a hell, or a place for those who have done wrong in life and deserve punishment. Now the specifics might change, but the general idea of hell seems to be repetition. Having the same thing happen to you repeatedly for eternity. Usually some sort of torture, be it physical or mental. "

" Is this how you plan on executing me, sorcerer? Lecturing me to death? " Corbray scoffed.

Smiling, Nox patted the man atop his head as if he were nothing but a pet. " Keep that bravado going, Corbray. You're going to need it. " Rising, Nox lifted his hand and summoned the stone he'd been sitting on just before Nyra came to him. Setting the stone down before him, Nox rested his hand atop the waist high obelisk. " You won't die from my lecture, Corbray. In fact, you won't be 'dying' for some time yet. Death is quick. Final. And you…you made the grave mistake of taking away something that I loved. My son. Thus, you won't be dying until you fully learn just what it means to anger a Dark Lord of the Sith. "

Motioning away the guards, Nox walked around Corbray so that he was behind the kneeling man as he rested his hands on his shoulders. " You see, this right here is what is known as a Rakatan Mind Prison. It took quite a bit of work on my part, mostly because I've never made one before and I was doing it completely from memory of the one that I saw before. What's going to happen is that I'm going to take your mind, your essence, your soul if you will, and transfer it into this obelisk here. You'll be kept alive and conscious of everything going on around you, yet you will be unable to interact with it at all. I've also modified it slightly to do a certain task. And that is too make your worst nightmares into a reality. Your reality. And one that you will repeat over and over again over the course of a thousand or perhaps even several hundred thousand years, pending on my rune work. I'm afraid I was in a bit of a rush to complete it, so I can't be entirely sure on my arithmetic. "

Leaning over, Nox could almost smell the fear coming off Corbray as the man fought a clearly losing battle to keep his composure. " You see, I don't know if your Seven would send you to what you consider hell or not. And I am not one for taking chances, so I decided to build a hell for you to suffer in. Interesting, isn't it? "

" You're bluffing, " Corbray hissed, trying and failing to keep his fear from getting the better of him.

Smiling, Nox patted the man on the shoulder one last time. " I don't bluff. Something that I assure you, you will have plenty of time to learn after I rip your soul out of your body and lock you into your new home. "

Moving around so that he was once more standing between Corbray and the obelisk, Nox let his anger, his hatred for the piece of filth before him, to run rampant through his being. Holding his hands before him like he was holding a sphere, he drew heavily on the dark side of the force in preparation for ripping the man's consciousness out of his body and transferring it into the Mind Prison. Small wisps of manifested Force energy began forming between his hands as small arcs of Force lightning ran across his fingers and arms.

" Lord Stark! " Corbray yelled as his composure fled as he tried to move but found himself unable to do so as Nox held him in place with the Force. " You – You can't allow this! The block! Give me the block! Take my head! Don't–! You can't! Lord Royce! You can't just – no! No! Nnnnoooo! "

Corbray's voice broke into an unintelligible wail of agony as Nox pushed his hands forward. The tendrils of dark Force energy spread out from his hands and encompassed the condemned man. Gritting his teeth, Nox began breaking the man's very being away from his physical form.

It wasn't just the breaking away that was difficult. It was making sure that his consciousness couldn't slip away from him, which was like trying to hold onto a wet eel with his bare hands. If he'd had more time, there were rituals he could've performed to make this process easier. But that would've required not only delaying the execution by several weeks, but he would also have to find a spot that was secure and infrequently traveled to properly prepare just as his former Master Zash had done, or had planned to do, to him. But, while this particular method he was using was more difficult, it had the added benefit of being far more painful for the one whose mind was being removed.

Feeling the last feeble grasp on Corbray's mortal coil give way, Nox immediately shifted his feet and moved his hands. A sphere that had formed over Corbray and which now contained everything he was floated across the small distance. It collided with the obelisk and dissipated the moment the two touched as it was absorbed into the stone. Releasing his hold, Nox let the now lifeless body that'd once been Lyn Corbray fall face first to the ground.

The entire yard was silent as Nox approached the obelisk and rested his hand on the cold the stone. He could feel Corbray's spirit within the obelisk, and even though he had only just been condemned, he could sense the despair and agony coming from within the Mind Prison. " And so ends Lyn Corbray, the fool who thought he could bring harm to the loved ones of a Sith Lord and live to tell tale. "

Leading the procession from the Sorcerer's Tower to the godswood, Ned found himself in a stupor as he tried to fully wrap his mind around what he'd just witnessed. His friend was many things; powerful, caring to those he loved, a teacher, a mentor, a scholar, and a man that routinely made the impossible seem possible. But as many positive qualities Ned knew that his friend possessed, he was not ignorant enough to overlook his friend's faults. He could be arrogant at times, condescending. But he had more than those, he could also be incredibly ruthless and vindictive to those who dared to cross him. Ned just never truly realized just how ruthless Nox could truly be until tonight. Creating a literal hell for an individual and then ripping their soul out of their body and trapping them in said hell. Even after all he'd seen and learned from Nox up until tonight, he would've thought such a thing impossible. But that was exactly what had happened here tonight. And it was a fate that did not sit easily with Ned.

But as unnatural as the execution was, Ned would not and could not fault his friend for what he'd done. Especially considering what Ned himself was about to do to the treasonous nobles. Executions were not just about simply killing. No. They were about making a statement to everyone else about the consequences of certain actions. And Nox had just made a very, very powerful statement. Just as he was about to do.

Coming into the clearing before the weirwood, Ned's heart began to beat wildly as he saw that his orders had been carried out. Five stakes, each taller than a man, had been erected in the godswood before the reflecting pool opposite of the weirwood. 'Father. Brother. Sister. Ancestors… Give me strength to do what must be done here tonight, ' he prayed as he made to stand before the reflecting pool in front of the five stakes.

As he turned around, he saw that those who'd gathered to watch the execution had all begun spreading out, the light from their newly lit torches the only source of light in the godswood as the guards roughly positioned each of the five prisoners before a stake. Everyone, from his sons to the Lords and Ladies to even Nox knew what was about to happen here. And by the look on at least two of the condemned Lords faces, they were obviously not expecting to meet their end this way. And if he were being truthful with himself, this was perhaps the last thing Ned wanted to do. But his wants did not matter. The laws of the North were old and unforgiving. And this was the cost of betraying the North and breaking the laws of gods and men.

" Roose Bolton. Barbrey Dustin. Ludd Whitehill. Rodrik Ryswell. Harwood Stout. " He began, making sure to meet each of them in the eye before moving on. " You five have been found guilty of attempted sedition and assassination. In the name of King Robert Baratheon the First I, Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell, Warden of the North, do hereby sentence you to die by the Traitors Death. If you have any last words, speak them now for all to hear. For while you will meet with the gods tonight, you will not stand with them nor will you be able to reach for them. You will be with the gods, yet you will not hear them, see them, nor speak to them. And until the end of time, all will know of your transgressions against the laws of gods and men. "

" Please, my Lord…I beg mercy! " Harwood Stout whimpered, his body shaking like a leaf in the wind. " I – I didn't mean…I was forced –! "

" Had our roles been reversed as you and your cohorts intended, Stout, would you have granted my family and I such mercy as you are asking for now?! " Ned demanded of the man, making him whimper further and fold in on himself.

Next, Ludd Whitehill met his eyes, but his fear betrayed him as he took shook with fear of what was to come. " My family will live on…through my traitorous daughter…but they will live on. And one day, this will be revisited upon you a hundred-fold. "

Ned didn't bother gracing the man with a response as he turned his attention to Rodrik Ryswell. " You killed my eldest son. Unmanned my two younger sons. Widowed my eldest daughter before she could ever have children of her own. My only regret standing here today, is that I did not get the chance to gut you like your fish of a wife before I died. "

Glaring, Ned forced himself away from Rodrik and onto the next in line; Barbrey Dustin. The dowager Lady of Barrow Town was standing tall and looking at him with something that he had never seen from her before. Something almost akin to respect. " I didn't think you would have the strength to go through with this, Stark. But I can see that you have finally decided to shed those antlers and feathers and become a wolf once more. " Barbrey said with a definite edge to her voice. " Too bad it took all this death for you to actually become a wolf of the north instead of a southern pretender wolf. "

" I have always been a man of the North and a wolf, Barbrey, " he countered, meeting her gaze head on. " Your hatred of me merely blinded you to that fact. "

Moving over to the last of the condemned, Ned met the cold grey eyes of Roose Bolton for the last time. " You think you have won just because we failed? You are a fool Ned Stark. This is not the end. Merely the beginning of the end for the Starks. "

" Perhaps, or perhaps not. " Ned replied, forcing himself to remain calm. " As I have often been told by a friend, the only thing certain about the future is uncertainty. The time of the Starks may end in my time or perhaps a hundred lifetimes from now. But you, Roose, you will not be there to see it happen. Bind them. "

Stepping back, Ned watched with a racing heart as his guards stripped the five condemned of their shirts, leaving the men bare chested and Barbrey in only her chest bindings. Without a single word spoken the men of Winterfell then forced each of them against a stake and raised their hands above their heads before tying them off onto a hook at the top. With their arms secured a second roped was then wound tightly around their chest to make sure that they could not move away from the stake. Not that they would be able to do so soon enough. Finished with their task, the men of Winterfell stepped away as Jory approached. A large two-handed war maul in his hands.

Taking the maul from his captain, Ned stepped forward once more. " Not since before the time of the dragons has any dared to violate the laws of gods and men in such a manner. " He said loudly and clearly so that all could hear him. " The North is old and harsh. But we are a people who stand united. We were one while the rest of the southern kingdoms were still squabbling for control of one another. And for those who would seek to destroy that which we have built upon centuries of blood, there is only one fate awaiting them. May the gods have mercy on you. For I cannot and shall not. "

Gripping the handle of the maul tightly, Ned made his way towards the end of the line of stakes and stood before Harwood Stout as the rest of those in the godswood remained completely silent. The man was shaking violently, and the front of his pants were soaked with his own piss. " My lord…" Stout moaned, " please…mer—AHH! "

Swinging the maul around his head, Ned brought the heavy blunt instrument down hard onto Stout's left knee. The former Lord from Barrow Town cried out in agony as the bones in his knee shattered under the weight of the maul. Part of Ned wanted to stop then and there. But he couldn't. The law wouldn't let him. And a much larger part, the part that remembered holding Cat's and Rickon's bloody bodies, was actually enjoying the sight of the man's suffering. Reversing his swing, Ned quickly brough the maul back around and struck down on his other knee, shattering it just the first before delivering two follow up swings to each of his arms. With his arms and legs broken, Stout went limp, the rope around his middle and the rope securing his arms above his head the only things keeping him upright.

Forcing himself to ignore the wailing of Stout, Ned pushed himself onto the next and went to stand before Ludd Whitehill. The former Lord had his eyes close and was shaking nearly as bad as Stout had been. Not giving himself time to think about what he was doing; Ned brought the maul down hard onto each of the man's knees and both of his arms. The man's bones shattered like they were nothing more than dry kindling. He repeated the process with Rodrik Ryswell, the only difference there being the Lord of the Rills didn't shake nor piss himself. He merely stared at Ned with hatred even as Ned shattered his legs and arms.

When he came to Barbrey, he involuntarily found himself pausing. She was a woman. Doing this to a woman was just… It was different than a man. Yet still, she had committed the same crime as the others. Her punishment had to be the same. So, with a heavy heart and forcibly blanked mind, Ned methodically brought the maul down on her legs and arms just as he had the others.

Lastly, Ned stood before Roose Bolton. The man who was the leader of the attempted insurrection. Pale eyes met the eyes of the wolf, yet despite staring his very death in the face the Leech Lord had no fear. Nor acceptance. He just stayed there, emotionless as if this were just another day for him. And that, more than anything, infuriated the Warden of the North more than anything else. The apathy Roose showed towards Ned's family, his own family, and his fellow conspirators. His anger fueling him, Ned swung the maul around with far more strength than he had the others. Roose's knees and arms didn't simply break under the force of the maul, they shattered. Each blow wrenching screams of pain from the Leech Lord that only served to make Ned want to hit him harder.

Dropping the maul, Ned held out his hand. Wordlessly, Jory deposited a dagger into his waiting hand. Forcing Roose's head to the side, he grabbed hold of the man's ear and placed the flat of the dagger against the side of his head. Pulling on his ear, he brought the dagger down and removed Roose's ear with a single swipe. Dropping the bloody appendage on the ground, he forced Roose's head the other direction and repeated the action to remove his other ear. The task done, he moved down the line removing the conspirator's ears one at a time without hesitation or mercy. By the time he'd finished with Stout, the five prisoners were hanging limply by the rope around their chest as the pain from their broken bones and severed ears kept them conscious and in constant agony.

Handing the dagger back off to Jory, Ned kept his mind empty as he was handed a metal poker with the end heated to the point where the metal glowed brightly. Without him needing to say so, his men moved up so that there were two next to each of the condemned and forced their eyes open. Leveling the poker at Stout's eyes, Ned didn't give himself time to think of the pleading look in the man's eye before he pressed the searing metal into first his right eye and then his left. Within mere moments, Ned had made his way down the line of the prisoners and each were blinded much in the same manner his friend had been when he was still but a child.

Handing the poker back off, he took the dagger back from Jory as his men worked with wedges of wood and tongs to force the prisoners' mouths open and pull their tongue out past their teeth. Ned's mind was completely devoid as he methodically removed the tongues of each prisoners, not caring as their blood got on his hands and clothes. Only after removing Stout's tongue did he allow himself a moment to collect himself. The five prisoners were little more than a collection of broken, bloodied bodies that were barely hanging onto life and consciousness. But their ordeal was not yet over. Pressing the edge of the dagger against Stout's stomach Ned drew the blade quickly across the man's middle. This cut was just deep enough to render the flesh and muscle, opening his stomach and allowing his guts to fall freely from his body onto the ground below. Then, just like he had done with the bones, ears, eyes and tongue, Ned walked down the line slicing each prisoners' stomachs open just enough to spill their guts out onto the ground.

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