CHP 11: The Northern Way (Patreon)

Helman Tallhart was a good fellow, a bit too blunt and stand-offish sure, but his attitude went from confrontational to... accommodating in the blink of an eye as soon as he realised just who he was dealing with.

I suppose that went to show how loyal he was to his Lord Liege, Eddard Stark.

"I bet you're all talk."

Unfortunately, I couldn't say the same for his son, Benfred Tallhart.

The brat was tall, with shaggy blonde hair and a thick neck that would put a boar to shame... Most of all, he was extremely annoying and abrupt.

I put the book I'd found on the North down on the table, put a hand over it, and looked up at the boy, "What makes you think that, Benford?"

I'd been in the middle of a well deserved break at one of the towers of Moat Cailin... The Children's Tower it was called, not all that homey and honestly ominous. But a table, a chair, a candle and a book I could read made it comfortable for me... even if it was in the middle of a room carved with odd symbols.

"It's Benfred." He quipped with thick furrowed brows, "How many times have I told you that, 'Karl'?"

I smiled, "Right, Benfred, what makes you think that?"

He paused at that, pursing his lips in thought, "You're just big."

"Same as you then... The only difference being I don't need my dad to take me everywhere." My smile widened with amusement at the way his face turned slightly red at my words, "If you don't want anything, I was busy."

He clenched his fist, making his armour rustle from the movement, "You don't even have a sword with you. How is anyone supposed to believe you led the Starks through two Kingdoms?"

"I dropped it?" I offered curiously, crossing one leg over the other.

I didn't really get why he had to make such a big deal out of this, was he upset about me talking back to his father... or was he annoyed that it wasn't him in my place?

"No warrior would drop his sword." He grunted, "That just proves you're a rat."

"My boy..." I started calmly, "Insulting others for no reason can go wrong, way too quick. What did I even do to... annoy you?"

I was too old to be bothered by harmless insults from someone who didn't know better, but he'd end up encountering someone who WOULD be bothered and possibly get his throat slit... At the same time, it was slightly annoying to hear his tone.

He was tall and buff, but I was taller.

Was he intimidated or something?

He hesitated, averting his gaze, "I...It's nothing."

What the fuck was all this even about then?

"How did you... get here so easily?" He asked quietly.

"It's not all that hard." I smiled wryly, kids could be something, "I doubt you'd have much trouble in my place."

"Really?"

"Mhm." I nodded with closed eyes, picking up my book again.

According to it, Starks were originally called the Winter Kings of the North and honestly... that title was metal as all hell.

But at the same time, it told me something really interesting.

These so-called Winter Kings were brought to heel by Dragon Riders.

There was no such thing in the Lands Between, the Dragons were near the top of the hierarchy in terms of powers and legend, sentient and advanced creatures that were worshipped as Gods at a time... They were too prideful and powerful to have riders.

At the same time, a lone dragon could probably have destroyed the Seven Kingdoms whole without much struggle so I believe that the dragons of this world and my own were completely different in nature.

...But I hadn't encountered a single one yet.

I spoke up just as the boy opened the door to leave, "Say Benjen, is there any chance I see a dragon?"

"Benford... it's BENFORD." He spoke through gritted teeth, "And no..." He tilted his head, confused, "The dragons died out a long time ago. Is this some kind of joke?"

Oh... well, that was disappointing.

I was rather looking forward to meeting my mortal enemies... no, my kin.

"Yeah." I laughed his question off, scratching my cheek, "I was just wondering if one was still around."

-

"Ser Karl, I have readied the men that will accompany you to Winterfell."

This time, my reading session was interrupted by Helman himself, who barged into the room like he owned the place, which he did, "My son will ride with you as well... The boy seems adamant."

Oh, joy.

Well... I did say I'd welcome any company.

"He's somewhat dull but he has a good heart." Helman smiled amusedly at my expression, holding the door open with one hand while fixing the purple sash hanging from his shoulder pauldron with the other, "Though, I will ask you to forgive his disrespect. The North owes you a debt for your actions."

I waved my hand in dismissal, "No debt, I was just doing my job."

"Be that as it may, you could've easily gone for the reward offered by the crown for their retrieval." He scratched his bushy grey moustache, "That stands for something, in my eyes at least."

What?

"There... was a reward?" I looked up from my book, scratching the rather uncomfortable fabric of the brown padded tunic they gave me, "How much?"

"I don't think it should matter?" Helman chortled slightly.

He was right, it didn't... I completed my missions with discretion, mostly because any reward or bribe was mostly inconsequential when I factored in my lifespan.

"Well said." I shrugged, standing up, "Are the ladies ready to go?"

He nodded and backed away, "You should reach Winterfell within the day at full gallop... or perhaps it'd take two. I trust you shall keep them safe as you have so far."

I cast a glance at the rising Sun from the tower's missing window before nodding.

One final stretch before I go my own way.

-

It was the next day after we left Moat Cailin when a massive castle I presumed to be Winterfell came into view.

We didn't have much trouble on the ride there, turned out even the bravest bandits tended to steer clear of a convoy composed solely of fully armoured soldiers carrying the banners of the Rulers of the North.

Which was smart, a lot smarter than some of the folks I'd encountered on the way to Moat Cailin.

Arya's pale face lit up with excitement at the site of her home while Sansa was more subdued, but still excited if my skill at reading mannerisms hadn't gotten any shoddier.

The younger sister tugged at my sleeve, "There's a lot to see here. I can show you! Much better than that overcrowded King's Landing. You'll like it here, I think."

I just smiled and nodded my head, refraining from telling her that I had no intention of staying long.

Castles and me didn't blend well, with the situations ending up devolving because some Lord took offense to me not showing them the proper respect or something along those lines.

But enough with my gripes, Winterfell was... in a word, ancient, but imposing all the same.

It didn't have the visible signs of disrepair most of the castles we'd passed till now had, no, the tall granite walls expertly concealed all beyond them, save for the massive towers of the keep with rounded pathways and were fully manned by soldiers bearing the Direwolf sigil of House Stark.

Under the keep sprawled a neat little town, with proper paths, and small houses built from logs and undressed stone... admittedly, the architecture was much better than I'd been expecting.

I studied Winterfell with half-shut eyes, curious about how it'd handle a siege.

The passers-by cast confused glances at us as we passed, glances that soon changed to relief when they noticed just who we were escorting. The guards at the main keep didn't make much of a scene either, immediately ushering us in with relieved and happy faces.

"The Starks are well-loved it seems." I commented off-handedly, noting the expressions of the guards.

"Yes." Benfred nodded with a small smile, chest swelling with pride, "The Starks are the Lords Paramount of the North, and they've done right by us since before many of us were but babes. They deserve our loyalty."

I hummed, accepting his words, "You changed your attitude quick, huh? What did it?"

He'd gone from being a doubtful brat to a curious kid during the journey.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He smiled obliviously as the massive main gates were shut behind us along with the drawbridge that allowed us to pass the great moat behind the first wall of the keep.

I chuckled at the kid, "Fine be like that."

I took one last glance at the multitude of soldiers within and around the keep.

This... wasn't normal, was it?

The town outside the gates was also bustling with life, but common folk were few and far, eclipsed by the sheer number of soldiers bearing various sigils... I even saw one that was the same as Helman Tallhart's.

Marika, did the idiot Joffrey really do what I think he did?

It didn't take long before we were off our mounts, mounts that were led away by servants along with Sansa and Arya, who seemed to forget me in the moment, as I looked around curiously, "Say Bennyson, is this place normally this crowded?"

There were men of all sizes talking to each other, a certain... anger... to their mannerisms.

"It's Benf-... How did you even get to Bennyson?" Benford groaned before letting out a deep sigh and wiping his face with his hand, "It doesn't matter... To answer your question, no... It seems like- By the Gods."

The teenager pointed to a tall man, one half a foot taller than even me, bellowing with some men.

His tabard had a roaring giant in chains sewn into it and to be honest... he didn't look much different from the image.

He was extremely wide, but not fat, bulging with massive muscles, with long dark hair and a bushy beard that stopped just above his chest.

"That's Greatjon Umber... why would he be here?"

"Well, my boy..." I put a hand on his shoulder, "It looks like the King's gone and done something none of you will like."

"What could he possibly have done?" He questioned nervously, scratching the back of his head.

Marika may have blessed me because this was one of the most entertaining things I could conceive.

Well... time to earn some fame, the proper Northern way.

Flashing Benford a grin, I pointed at the so-called Greatjon, "Is that the biggest guy here?"

"Yes but what... wait, no, you're not thinking what I think you're thinking, are you?"

I just silently nodded my head and sauntered over to the giant, interrupting his conversation, "Are you Greatjon?"

"Yes...?" He tilted his head, stuck mid grin, as he tried to but failed at recognising me, "What the fuck do you want?"

I just cracked my knuckles, "What do you say we get down and dirty? Get some of this annoyance out our bodies?"

A few moments passed in awkward silence, silence that was cut short by a man whistling and everyone else bursting out cackling.

"Is he mad?!"

"The lad's lost his damn mind!"

"Are you serious?" Greatjon asked plainly.

"Yep."

His expression instantly morphed into an excited grin, before he bellowed, paying homage to his House sigil, "I've been itching to bash some skulls in! Let's fucking go! Don't disappoint me boy!"

He then held out his hand.

"Fuck yeah." I met his grin with one of my own, grabbing his hand, "My man."

The Northerners are simple men from what I've noticed so far, something like this would be right up their alley.

-

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