Game of Thrones: Winter's Fire

Daeron Stark

It was raining lightly outside, it always seemed to be raining at the Twins, even the last time he had been here there had only been one clear day, and that too had been the day he had burnt Daeron the Good's banner. Some of the lords joked that it was a sign from the old gods, that they were raining on Aerys Targaryen's reign as king, and that soon Aemon would sit the Iron Throne, Daeron was not entirely convinced himself, for one thing more rain would mean that the Green Fork was liable to flooding, and that in itself could delay their progress, no they could not afford more rain. He was looking outside the window of what had once been Lord Petyr Frey's solar, the man who had been Lord of the Crossing when Daemon had rebelled, had not been so willing to allow them to pass, a bunch of savage northmen and traitors he had called them. He supposed that was only right, for Frey at least, Aegor and one of the man's many daughters had been betrothed, a betrothal that had been broken after Daemon had died and his battles with him. Now that daughter was more than likely married to that oaf Butterwell, in a much poorer castle. It mattered not Petyr Frey was rotting in the ground now, when the fool had refused to allow Daeron and his men to cross, he had left Daeron with no choice, the Twins had been sacked. His guardsmen killed, his soldiers either killed or fled, now the Twins were Daeron's by conquest and Petyr Frey's eight year old son Walder was Lord of the Crossing.

He turned away from the window; it would not do to get lost in his thoughts now. He still had a war to plan, they held the Twins, Lord Tully was a prisoner in Moat Cailin but the man's uncle was amassing a host at Riverrun last they had heard, and the man was not like to hand the castle over to Daeron, not like last time. There would be more battles fought, and more blood spilt before they could seat Aemon on the Iron Throne, he only hoped that if Bloodraven were to march the gods would be so kind as to pit the kinslayer against him, oh how he would love that, to kill that red eyed bastard once and for all. He walked to the door of the solar opened it and then turning to Edrick Strongaxe a member of his Winter's Guard who stood on guard outside, Daeron said "Send for Maester Walys, Prince Aemon and Lords Umber, Dreadstark and her Grace." The man bowed, and then Daeron turned to his brother Theon and said "Theon come in, we have much to speak of and I wish to speak to you of some of it before Lords Umber and Karstark and our brother begin firing questions at me." He saw his brother smirk at that, but as he walked in Theon became very somber, he had been wont to do that a lot as of late, ever since he and Jeyne had stopped being whatever they had been before, it was starting to get on Daeron's nerves.

His brother sat down in the chair opposite Daeron's and once Daeron himself was seated, he waited a moment and then said. "I have received news from Aegor at Winterfell," Theon leaned forward expectantly. "It seems my son received a raven from Dagon, the Iron Islands are free from the Lannisters, but Meryn Redwyne has landed his fleet at Lannisport and his men are fighting Torrhen Dustin and the Blackfyre Westermen. We shall need to decide soon what must be done. And if we are to make young Lord Walder our ally in the future, we must seal it with an alliance. Loath as I am to marry my daughter to a southerner now, perhaps Eleana would be the best bet."

Theon was silent for a moment before he said "I do not think Eleana will wish to marry him Your Grace. No offense Your Grace, but I do not think Eleana wishes to marry anyone at all, whatever gift it is that those direwolves of your children gave them, she seems to be the most affected, and marrying her to a boy like Walder Frey could only harm her more."

Daeron sighed. It would be just like his brother to tell him the truth directly, he knew it would be true, still he had to find out exactly what his daughter wanted, she would do her duty to her kingdom and her family if it meant ending the needless bloodshed that occurred everytime they marched south toward the Twins. He was about to say as much when a knock on the door heralded the arrivals of Lord Hothar Umber, Lord Domeric Karstark, Lord Jon Royce, his brother Cregan Dreadstark, Lord Jonnel Manderly and Daeron's wife Dacey and his nephew the one they were all fighting for Aemon Blackfyre. All had fought hard at the Neck and in taking the Twins, and he knew they were confident that this could be the battle that saw Aemon on the throne. Aemon himself wanted it to be the war that saw him on the throne, he knew his nephew was impatient to win and to be crowned, that he no longer wanted his family to have to live off the hand outs that he thought Daeron was giving him, Daeron worried that his nephew's impatience to be crowned would get him killed, but as such he refrained from saying so, for the time being.

"I thank you for coming at this early hour my lords, my lady. As you know Lord Tully rots in a cell in Moat Cailin under Edwyle's supervision, the Mormonts have also arrived with their strength in Winterfell to help defend it should any southerner get past Lord Beron at White Harbour. My son has sent word from Winterfell, the Iron Islands are completely free of Lannister control, and Tybolt Lannister fled back to Fair Isle with his tail between his legs." At that there was much cheering, no one in the north liked the Lannisters not after the Old Lion had betrayed his friend's memory and sided with the Dornish. "However, he writes that Mern Redwyne has brought the Fleet of the Arbor to dock at Lannisport and his men, numbering some 3,000 are helping Lord Lefford deal with Torrhen Dustin and the northmen under his command as well as the Westerlords loyal to Aemon. I would have your thoughts on what our course of action should be. Shall we head straight to aid our brethren in the Westerlands or take Riverrun and plan from there?" Daeron already knew what he was going to do, what was crucial for their plans, but he wished to see what the others would say, especially Aemon.

There was silence for a moment before Hothar Umber, the loud and proud lord of Last Hearth boomed. "Well Your Grace, personally I would lead the men down from this bunghole and across the Pendric Hills and smash Lord Lefford's host from behind and then send the Redwyne lad scampering back to the sea with his breeches down around his ankles."

There was much laughing at that and Daeron could not help but smile as well. Aemon though was more serious when he said "We must march immediately for the Golden Tooth, send a force of men to take it and Lord Lefford will come scampering back to defend his precious gold. That's when the rest of the men can kill Lord Redwyne and his men. We have to defend our men no matter the cost."

There it was, that spark, that sense of fighting till the last breath for the men who had sworn their lives to him, Daeron felt a tickle of pride for his nephew, this man who seemed in some ways less like Daemon and more like his mother, the woman Daeron had never met but had heard much about. Daemon would never have let a man die blindly whilst he hid in a castle, Daeron knew that, and it had cost his brother his life, and spared Ser Gwayne Corbray his. He would not allow his nephew to make the same mistake. It seemed Cregan shared the same view. "That is all well and good. But this is not a song, this is war proper, and as such we must take Riverrun. Take Riverrun and the kinslayer sitting on the Iron Throne will listen, he will take us seriously, then we can destroy him and King's Landing will be free. Torrhen is a smart man, he knows when to fight and when not to. I assume Your Grace has sent orders for Dagon and Steffon to fight to his aid yes?" Daeron nodded. "Good then I believe we take Riverrun."

Daeron saw Aemon was about to protest, so he spoke up quickly. "I agree with you Lord Cregan, there is no point in allowing our men to bleed needlessly in the West. Torrhen Dustin is smart he will know when to fall back. It is Riverrun we must take, take that and the kingdoms will shake. We march for Riverrun at first light." With that he dismissed them all, though Dacey stayed behind after. "What is it?" Daeron asked, removing the crown from his head, and ruffling his hair.

"Why did you summon us all here if you had already made your mind up my love?" She asked as she put her arms around his chest.

Daeron stared out of the window, and watched as Aemon stalked off to gods alone knew where. He sighed "Because I did not wish to hear what Aemon would say if I simply told him we were to march for Riverrun. He is so like Daemon, I fear it will be the end of him."

Dacey bit his earlobe and he could feel his control beginning to slip. She murmured into his ear "But is it not he we are fighting for? This son of your beloved brother, to seat on that Iron Chair? Why not give him command of the forces next time?"

Dacey was nibbling more insistently on his earlobe, demanding he turn round and kiss her, and so he relented and did just that, but he did more, he pushed her onto the table, and began removing the various items of clothing that separated them. Kissing each new part of skin that was exposed to him he answered her, his voice sounding rough to his own ears "I will, but I will make sure he does not try anything that could get him killed." After that there was nothing more to Daeron than making love to his wife.

Later that day, just before dinner was served Daeron was in the godswood of the Twins sitting near the rather small and pitiful heart tree cleaning Ice, when he heard a twig snap somewhere close by. Turning to see what had caused the twig to snap he found himself looking at the seven year old Lord of the Crossing, Walder Frey. The boy looked terrified when he realised that Daeron had seen him, and looked as if he was about to flee, smiling slightly Daeron stopped cleaning Ice and said "You can stay you know. You don't have to leave, just because I've seen you."

Walder Frey nervously edged forward to sit on a stump of a tree in front of Daeron. The boy truly was small, smaller than Aegor had been at that age, smaller than even Jorah and Brandon were; he looked exactly like his father as well, with that weasly appearance and the defining weak chin of House Frey. "What is it you wish to ask of me, that had you hovering there like some scared deer?" Daeron asked lightly.

"I, I wondered what it's like to be king. Your Grace." Walder Frey stammered.

Daeron looked at the boy and then jokingly said "Why are you considering breaking free of the Iron Throne and forming your own kingdom?" The boy looked mortified and seemed as if he was going to run away. Sighing Daeron put down the whetstone and stood up and sheathed Ice, before sitting back down again. "Being King, you wish to know what being king is like? I shall tell you know young Walder it is not something that anyone should wish for themselves. Oh yes, everyone thinks being king is something wonderful and joyous, and it can be truly it can be, when your crops are growing and your people have food in their belly, more food than they know what to do with, and there is peace and happiness in the land. That is when being King is what the songs make it out to be. However, during times like now, when there is war, or when there is a famine or a drought, that is when there is the true test of being king, of being a lord even." The boy's eyes seemed as wide as saucers when Daeron looked at him. He continued. "A king and a lord's primary duty is to ensure that the land and the people he rules over are properly provided for. That they have enough food to eat during the long winters and the summers. That they have the tools to ensure that they can properly harvest their crops and produce the goods needed to sustain them. It is a King's duty to ensure that his people feel safe and secure in their homes, for how can a man claim to be king if he cannot ensure that his people feel protected in their own lands.

"But what if one's duty to one's family and the people one rules over conflict. Then what does one do?" Walder Frey asked with all the seriousness a seven year old could muster.

Daeron looks the boy straight in the eye when he replies. "One's people must always come first, without the peasants and the lords who pledge you their allegiance; you would have no land to rule over. It is a lord's duty to ensure that those people are provided for as best as possible, that they have the tools to ensure their prosperity. A lord and a king must then make sure that one's family is provided for, for with the people of the land provided for, there will be more for the family to have and care for. Only then once your people and your family have been provided for should you consider the outside world. For the outside will not care if one of yours lives or dies, but you will, as their lord and guardian you will. Furthermore, Walder, when you grow to an adult you will wed and have children, many children if the gods are kind. You must never leave any of your children or any of your family out in the cold, to fend for them. For if you have the means to provide for them, then provide for them you should. No man is less liked or thought well off than the man who leaves his family off to rot. Remember this Walder, Provide for your people and your family, and they will be loyal to you unto death."

With that he gets up and walks with Walder Frey back into the Twins ready for the war that is come. They leave the Twins the next day, as soon as the first rays of the sun have begun to creep into the sky, they send out scouting patrols regularly and just as they are stopping their march to eat lunch on their fourth day out from the Twins, a rider comes back bearing news of an army massing at Oldstones. "Who commands this army?" Daeron questions.

The rider near breathless manages to pant that the host is commanded by Lords Piper, Vance and Mallister and that they are assembling at Oldstones, when questioned as to how many men this host has, the man says he counted 6,000 before he had break and flee before being spotted. This news leads to much excited murmuring amongst the various lords and soldiers gathered, and Daeron calls a war council to get the thoughts of his lords bannermen. "6,000 men. Only 6,000 men? We have three times their number what with the soldiers that Frey gave use and the men that joined us from the Three Sisters. We can easily destroy them." Lord Hothar booms.

"It could be a trap Your Grace. We know Ser Matthew Tully is not a stupid man, he might have assembled a much larger host somewhere else, perhaps in the Whispering Wood, in the hopes that we bleed ourselves at Oldstones and then he can attack us and capture yourself or Prince Aemon." Lord Domeric cautions.

"Well if it is that you are worried about Lord Karstark then why not sit here and wait whilst the real men get the glory." Borros Flint, the heir to the Mountain clans taunts.

"Enough. I will not have us bickering now my lords. We shall not go to Oldstones, not we shall wait at Hag's Mire for Lords Piper, Vance and Mallister and their 6,000. Borros since you are so eager for battle you shall lead 3,000 men and harass the Vance host, if I know these men, Vance will be leading the left, lead him away from the main body, and kills his men but I want Vance alive. Aemon, you shall take the van, but Beric Dustin and Jeyne Mormont shall be there as your protectors. Dacey shall be in the van as well, Piper will most likely lead the van, he is old and experienced and a skilled warrior." Daeron said.

"And will you take the right uncle?" Aemon asked.

Daeron looked at his nephew then and said in a voice filled with iron. "Aye, and Lord Mallister will never make it back to Seagard alive."

With that the council meeting broke up and they continued their march to Hag's Mire, where Daeron ordered that no tents be set up "We want no word of our presence reaching the lords until Borros has led Vance away, Piper and Mallister will follow." And so on the seventh day after they marched from the Twins Borros Flint set out with 3,000 men to harass Lord Vance and his men, Daeron sat atop his horse, dressed from head to toe in armour, dark blue with the sigil of House Stark of Winterfell on it- a white dragon and grey direwolf combatant on a field of grey- beside him Theon was moving nervously around on his horse, nervous perhaps about whether or not Jeyne would survive, Daeron said nothing though, he would not offer false promises. Though he did breathe a sigh of relief when a man bearing arms of House Norrey came and told them "Borros Flint has captured Lord Vance Your Grace. Lords Mallister and Piper are hot on his trail." Daeron nodded, and then raised Ice high into the air, and the battle of Hag's Mire began properly.

Hacking and slashing, a cut to the left, a slash to the right, raising Ice to defend himself against the blows men sent his way. Hacking, slashing and ducking, dodging, hacking again. On and on it went, this dance he knew so well now, he was killing men left, right and centre, burying his sword in them and sending them to their graves or watching as their bodies were swallowed by the marshes and the mud and rain. It was far too easy, his sword was wet and red with the blood of the men he had slain, beside him he could hear the roar of the battle raging on, men crying and dying, or pleading for their mothers, crying out for relief, relief that other men were more than happy to give them.

Eventually he had managed to cut his way through to Lord Mallister, a young man no older than Aegor perhaps. He even had some of Aegor's cockiness. "Ah well if it isn't the wolf traitor. Come to march to your death have you Lord Stark?" Mallister taunted.

Daeron was unimpressed by the young man's taunting, he remembered the boy's father, now that was a warrior to be admired. This green boy? Not so much. He said nothing but spurred his horse on and in one swift blow had disarmed Lord Mallister, with his sword pointed at the boy's throat he said "Give me one reason why I should not take you hostage? A valuable hostage to go alongside your liege lord. Your father would be disappointed in you Mallister."

"My father hated you Stark. You're nothing but a traitor, the spawn of a savage and a whore. And your nephew will never sit the throne. Not once Bloodraven comes from King's Landing." Mallister spat.

Daeron felt the rage build inside of him, but calmly said "Bloodraven will be dead by the time my nephew sits the throne. As will you." And with one sure stroke, just as he had disarmed the man, Daeron lopped his head off. The battle was won, it seemed his men stopped fighting the minute they saw him ride past them with Lord Mallister's head in one of his hand's, Ice strapped to his back. Mallister's soldiers were all dead by this point, as were Lord Piper's. It had been a rout, and there was a celebratory feeling amongst the northmen that night, they had won three battles on the trot, and most of the Riverlands strength was either lying dead in the Mire, or had turned to fight for Aemon. Daeron however, had something else to occupy his mind, Dacey had fought Lord Piper, and though she had killed the man she had been deeply wounded, and so instead of celebrating with his men, Daeron was sat by his wife's bedside waiting for the maester to finish with her.

That was how Aemon found him, his nephew smelt of beer and fire, but he would not begrudge him that. "How is she doing uncle?" his nephew asked.

"Well, the maester says she shall be fine. She took some serious blows but she will be fine. She won't be able to ride for two or three weeks though nor will she be able to fight in that time." Daeron replied tiredly.

He expected his nephew to protest, he did not expect his nephew to say what he said next. "That's fine uncle. You must stay with her. This war is being fought to seat me on the throne, I must lead these men so that they know what sort of a man and commander I can be. So that I will have their respect when I sit the throne. I cannot hide behind the shadows any longer uncle. I shall lead the men when we march on Riverrun. You stay and look after Aunt Dacey."

Daeron looked at his nephew and saw the conviction in his eyes, so he merely said "Make sure you keep Theon and Jeyne close by you always. Beric and Edrick shall stay here. The rest may ride with you."

"Of course uncle." Aemon said before he bowed and left the tent.

Three days later, Daeron watched as his men and his nephew rode off further south to take Riverrun. He walked back into the tent and sat beside Dacey who was still asleep due to the milk of the poppy the maester had given her and he prayed to the old gods that she would be better, and that they could win. They needed to win.

It took Dacey three weeks to fully recover, in which time Daeron received reports through ravens and from riders on how Aemon and the rest of the campaign were doing. He learnt that Dagon and Steffon had landed at Fair Isle and had captured the castle there, that they had landed at the Crag and taken it and were slowly working their way inland. He learnt that the Riverlords who had declared for Aemon were being led by one Lord Jasper Goodbrook, and were slowly converging on Riverrun to meet with Aemon, who had managed to take the castle with no bloodshed, what with the castle being held by a garrison of only 400 men.

When Daeron, Dacey and the 500 northmen who had been left with them at Hag's mire arrived at Riverrun they found it decorated with the black three headed dragon of House Blackfyre, Aemon sitting in attendance in the Great Hall as Lords Goodbrook, Darry, Ryger and Mooton all declared fealty to him. Adding some 2,000 men to their cause. Later that day as they sat at council discussing the developments in the west, the castle's maester brought them a letter from King's Landing signed in Bloodraven's hand obviously intended for the castellan of Riverrun to send on to Lord Brynden Tully's uncle. "Tully is assembling a host at the Stoney Sept with help from Lord Tarly, Lord Tyrell is marching from Highgarden to join them. They plan on meeting with Bloodraven and his host at Rushing Falls. We shall need to separate the two hosts. That my nephew is where you shall win your crown." Daeron said.

Addam Osgrey

"I have to go Rohanne. I can't just sit here and do nothing. Aemon needs me, he needs the strength that we can offer him!" Addam said for what felt like the thousandth time since the damnable letter came from King's Landing, stating that they were going to war.

"Why? Why should you have to fight another man's battles Addam? Look what happened when your father fought for Daemon Blackfyre at Redgrass, he lost most of his land and he lost his wife and daughter, and his two eldest sons. You lost most of your family because of the black dragons. Why must you fight?!" His wife protested.

"Because Aemon is my friend, and I swore to him that I would see him on the throne. He has the true claim, not that bastard Aerys, nor the kinslayer who controls him! The Targaryens are not the rightful kings, Aemon is, he bears the sword. The sword that all Targaryen kings from the conqueror down to Aemon's grandfather wielded." Addam argued.

"Yes but he only lives because of his uncle's help and only stands a chance of winning so long as his uncle continue to supports him. He only has one kingdom supporting him Addam, Aerys Targaryen has Bloodraven and the rest of Westeros supporting him. Including the Tyrells. I and the children can't afford to lose you, not now, not now that we have a family." Rohanne said, her eyes beginning to swell with tears, and immediately Addam felt guilty. He had loved his wife since he was a little boy, he had married her after Redgrass and they had been happily married for thirteen years now, but god damn it he owed his friend his life, he would have to fight for him somehow.

"It's not just that Rohanne. I owe Aemon my life. When his brother and father fell, he came for me, he killed that pox nosed bastard who was trying to kill me, the bastard who killed my brothers, and he saved me. I owe him my life, his uncle as well. I cannot turn my back on them, not now. Not when they could win." Addam said, pleading with his wife to understand him.

"Very well then my love, but please for the children's sake if not for mine, please remain neutral until we see how the war goes for either side." Rohanne asked of him, with those great big eyes of hers, he could never say not to her, and so he found himself agreeing, and when she smiled at him then and they made love, later on he realised he had been ensnared by his wife, the red spider as some were calling her.

Every day for the next few months, Addam would wait patiently for Maester Samwell to bring him the letters that were coming from his friends in the Riverlands and the Westerlands and even in the Reach itself, bringing news about the war, and how Aemon was doing. That was how he learnt that Lord Brynden Tully and his host of 7,000 men made up of men from the Riverlands and the Vale had been defeated in the swamps of the neck, Tully captured, the rest of his men killed, it was how he heard of Blackfyre loyalists victories in the Iron Islands the repelling of Tybolt Lannister and the killing of Gerion Lannister, it was how he heard of the capturing of the Twins and the taking of Riverrun, and how he heard of the Battle of the Uplands and the fleeing of the rebel reacherlords. When that news came to him at Coldmoat, he was watching Rohanne play with their children, their two daughters Sophia and Alysanne and their two sons Robert and Denys, he read the letter and felt a pool of dread coil in his stomach as he read his instructions from Garth Tyrell the man who was his liege. He would have to hunt down those he had fought alongside at Redgrass and bring them to the King's Justice.

He put down the letter and spoke with Rohanne once the children had been taken inside. "It appears I must march for war now my love." He says as calmly as he can.

Rohanne brushes part of her hair behind her and looks at him with piercing eyes. "On whose command?" she asks.

"My liege lord," he replies and sees the shock register in her eyes. "It appears that Lords Fossoway, Beesbury, Varner, Appleton and Caswell have forgotten how to hold their own in a fight. They fled before Garth Tyrell could have them all executed, he writes that they shall be passing by Coldmoat soon enough. I am tasked with capturing them and then executing them."

"And will you?" he hears his wife ask.

He sighs, "I must, you know I must my love. It would not do well to refuse to do this when I have already refused to join that idiot Garth on his march against them. To do so would bring the wrath of the crown down upon us, and I do not wish to be thrown in a black cell for killing a kinslayer who serves as hand. I must go and do my duty, but I will not kill all of them. I cannot kill all of them."

"What will you do then, with the lords you do not kill?" Rohanne asks.

"Allow them to flee. We have allies on the coast, ships will take them across the narrow sea to Bittersteel and the Golden Company. It is the least I can do." He whispers softly.

"And who will you kill then?" Rohanne asks.

He closes his eyes briefly to hide the pain that he knows saying the name will cause. "Raymun."

He feels his wife take his hand and only then does he realise that it is shaking. He opens his eyes and sees his wife looking at him sympathetically. "Are you sure that is necessary, why not bring them the heads of Beesbury or Caswell? Why Raymun?"

"Because that is the only way to prove to the Targaryens that I will not fight for Aemon." He replies his voice shaking. "By killing Raymun, it means I, I don't hold to old allegiances."

His wife merely holds his hand tighter and for that he is grateful. The next day after having said goodbye to Rohanne and their children he mounts his horse and rides off with the men from Standfast and Coldmoat, numbering some 1500 men in total, along the way they are joined by men from House Rowan bolstering their number to 3000. They ride in silence most of the way but when they stop near the Old Man's Town, Ser Wendell Webber Rohanne's cousin sits down next to him at the fire that night and questions him. "How do you know that this is where the traitors will go Osgrey? How do you know that they will head towards Fishermen's Point?"

Osgrey does not answer for a moment, his wife's cousin has always been ambitious and grasping and he knows for a fact that Webber once spoke with Rohanne's father about perhaps marrying Rohanne to himself instead of Addam. So he chooses his words carefully when he replies. "I know because it will be Ser Raymun leading them, not Beesbury or Caswell, and they will try and flee across the narrow sea to Tyrosh and Bittersteel."

"And you will not let them do that is that it? Trying to prove your loyalty to the crown and remove the taint your fool of a father left on my house is that it Osgrey?" Webber taunts.

Addam merely grits his teeth and says tightly "No, I am doing the duty asked of me by my liege lord Webber, but I guess you are too stupid to understand what duty is aren't you. Now if you have nothing interesting to say I am going to bed."

Three days later they arrive at Fishermen's Point and find the tents of Lord Beesbury, Varner, Appleton and Fossoway along with their banners and their men. The vast number of men that House Caswell could provide are lacking, must have bent the knee or been captured. Addam rides out to greet Mace Beesbury and Raymun by himself. No one amongst the Standfast or Coldmoat men raise a protest and the men commanded by Ser Alyn Flowers bastard uncle of the boy lord of House Rowan knows Addam as a trustworthy man to know not to question him. "My lords it has been too long." Addam greets them with forced cheerfulness.

"Aye it has Addam." Raymun replies.

"Have you come to kill us then Addam? To seal the final nail in your father's coffin. Betraying his former allies." Beesbury says in his waspish tone.

Addam nods and says sadly "Aye my lord I have. I have a duty to my family and to my liege lord, and you lot rebelled before the time was ripe, before Aemon held more of Westeros. I must do this duty if I wish to spare my family from the kinslayer's wrath."

He hears Raymun sigh then. "Very well, get on with it then and decide which one of us you shall take back as a head with you to appease that bastard kinslayer and old Garth."

Addam swallows, "I will need to be bloodied first, so that they do not suspect I allowed one of you to get away."

"Only one?" Beesbury asks, his eyebrows rising high on his head.

"One who will escape the pain of torture and Bittersteel." Addam says and they all laugh at that, before drawing their swords.

Beesbury swings at him first, Addam blocks the man's swing and then gives a swing of his own which connects with the man's throat and slits it, killing the old lord of Beesbury in an instant. Raymun is much harder to fight, much more the skilled opponent, and they duel. Swinging their swords back and forth, cutting, hacking and slashing at each other, until they are both bleeding from a dozen different minor wounds. Addam swings once, and then again, and then again until his friend his on his knees his helm dented so badly that Addam doubts he would recognise him even if he tried to. "Do it Addam, clean and true. Do not hesitate now, like Ser Maron said. Never hesitate. Oh and protect Eve and the children."

"I will." Addam says tears filling his eyes and choking his voice. He brings the sword down in one quick arc, and watches as his friend's head rolls to the floor. He picks it up and then shouts loudly "Flee you bastards, flee and join Bittersteel across the water, and come back stronger, and remember me. Remember me and run."

Later he will throw the head of Raymun at the feet of Garth Tyrell, and he will tell them "I have killed him, as a sign of my fealty to Aerys Targaryen and the Iron Throne. I have captured Lords Caswell and Appleton, Beesbury is dead, and I know not where Varner is. Ask no more of me."

He can see that Tyrell wishes to dismiss him, but instead the man says "We march for Rushing Falls to fight Aemon Blackfyre and his northmen, you shall come with us. Kill Blackfyre or Stark and I will forget that you ever arrived late to answer the summons."