Chapter 2
Droman
𐤊𐤍𐤏𐤍
Chapter 2: Departure
"We cannot let the west be denuded of fighting men."
I had uttered variations of this for half an hour on end, as the lords and lordlings of the North debated on how soon to march south, to face the Lannisters in the Riverlands. I, on the other hand, was trying to make them see reason.
"House Mormont, House Glover, House Fisher, House Ryswell, House Dustin," I counted off, reciting the western most lords and bannermen to House Stark "These lords must keep the greater proportion of their men at home. If need be, draw from the Hornwood, from the White Harbour, the Neck."
"You seem most insistent on this matter, Bolton. And yet I hear no concern in your voice for myself or Umber, having come down so far from home. Or do the wildlings not matter?"
Karstark. He'd come the day prior with a few thousand pike, all but instigating a fighting for command and honour within the army as all the principal powers were in attendance.
"There is the Wall and the Night's Watch," I said carefully, trying to control my irritation "Whereas we have Lannister and Greyjoy ships to the west, more than able to harry our coastline and raid deep within. Deepwood Motte, Barrowtown, Moat Cailin, these are keeps vulnerable to attack by sea."
"You need not worry about the Greyjoys," offered Robb with a look to his foster-brother "Theon is our guest, and Lord Balon will not endanger his son?"
"His son?" I asked quizzically, leaping on the opportunity he had provided me "Lord Balon's sons died in his rebellion. He has no sons. He has a daughter, I am told. The pride of the Iron Fleet, the same Iron Fleet commanded by his brother. And of course, there is the Crow's Eye of somewhere in Essos. And whatever accounts for cadet branches in the Iron Isles."
"You forget me, leech." Theon said imperiously "I am his last remaining son, his heir, the future Lord of the Iron Islands."
"You are nothing to him," I said dismissively as anger flashed in his eyes "You think you're still his son? He gave you over to Ned Stark and Robert Baratheon without a thought. You are nothing than a greenlander bastard he has cast away. If Balon Greyjoy decides to make war on the North, then your presence will not dissuade him from it."
"Lord Bolton-"
"Face it boy," I said, pressing the Greyjoy heir "You're a Stark bred, a Stark raised. For all your iron blood, it's Ned Stark who's your father. Your brothers are in this keep. Your sisters are at King's Landing. You are nothing to the Iron Islands, nothing but a threat to those who covet Lord Balon's lands and rights."
"Lord Bolton," said Robb as he silenced Theon from continuing the conversation "This is not helpful. We cannot weaken our army so strongly before marching south against the Lannisters."
"I do not disagree," I responded, with more weariness in my voice than before "But we cannot demand more from those who should not give it. Should I be proven wrong, should Balon Greyjoy's ships seek softer targets, then we would have ourselves a reserve of fighting men. to summon south at need or send north to support the Night's Watch."
"You clearly have something of a plan," noted Galbert Glover "So share it."
"We've twelve thousand men here," I began "Drawn from Glover, Mormont, Bolton, Hornwood, Cerwyn, Umber and Karstark. Send back half the Glover and Mormont men, to better garrison their lands and a little of the Umber and Karstark men to keep the fields tilled. Send word to the Mountain Clans for more men to be sent south after us to replenish our early losses. Tell the Ryswells and Dustins to keep most of their men at home. Write to the Lords Manderly, Locke, Reed, Woolfield and whoever has yet to join us to provide more men en route, that Lord Manderly has permission to raise up a larger fleet to protect the eastern coast. If we lose three thousand men to demobilization, but replace them with another nine thousand, we will still have our original numbers."
"And the end result of this swapping about?"
"The west will be fortified, the south still protected by the Neck and the Manderly fleet, while any attack upon the eastern coastlines too difficult to execute considering the distances involved, the various fortified settlements available to delay an army as well as the ability to raise an army from the aforementioned levies. It leaves enough men to respond to a wildling incursion if need be, without leaving us completely up shit creek should the worst come to pass."
"I've got to admit," said Maege Mormont suddenly "That's not the worst idea I've heard said today."
"Aye," said Rickard Karstark with a nod "There's a certain sense to it."
"Lord Robb?" I asked, drawing attention back to him "Does this have your blessings?"
"... Aye. I'll accept it. Send the orders out my lords, Maester Luwin. I'd rather not spend one more day bottled up at Winterfell if I can."
--
"Greyjoy," I said to the Ironborn lordling as those present at the war council began exiting to issue orders to their own men "A word privately."
Standing with Robb, he hesitated for a moment before he joined me at my side, walking sullenly next to me as we went down the hallway.
"I must apologize," I began patiently "For my rudeness earlier. My words were unkind."
He shrugged at that, as if letting the words pass through him.
"You've said your peace, Bolton, I-"
"I am not finished, Theon."
At that, he shut up, pulling away slightly at the coldness of my voice.
"I was a father once, Theon. Two sons, Domeric and Ramsay. Domeric... Domeric was born to rule, to lead, to be a lord. I sent him to live with his aunt when he was a boy, to be a page in her household. I sent him later to House Redfort in the Vale, my mother's kin. He grew up with my cousin's children, four sons amongst them. Every letter he wrote back to me, he spoke of them, of how he wished for brothers such as them. When he came home a few years prior, he'd found out I'd fathered a bastard, Ramsay. He demanded to see him. I denied him. And he went anyway."
"And what happened?" he asked, drawn into my- Roose's story.
"He died. My maester claimed it was a sickness of the bowels, but ... But I knew in my heart that Ramsay had poisoned him. His mother died soon afterwards, and I was left with a kinslaying bastard for a son. What could I do, Theon? Kill him myself? Send him to the Night's Watch? I had no other heirs, no brothers or sisters to carry on my name. I took him in. And the little monster only made me regret it, regret it from the day I fathered him till the day he died."
"He's dead?"
"The fool thought he could hunt wolves," I said with as much contempt as I could manage "And found himself mauled for it. He died quickly."
"I - why are you telling me this any of this, Lord Bolton?"
"Because I want you to understand," I said, looking at him intently "Family isn't only blood, or who you're related to. Domeric was more a brother to the Redforts than to Ramsay, as you are more a brother to Robb, Brann or Rickard. Domeric placed more importance on Ramsay, and suffered for it. Take care that you do not cast aside your brothers for kin who barely know the man you've become. Remember who you're fighting for."
"Why are you so invested in this?" he asks as he pulls away from me "You don't know me, or Robb. Who are you to say these things?"
"Who am I?" I echoed with a quiet laugh "I am Roose Bolton, boy. I am the Lord of the Dreadfort, a lord of the North taking my men south to die for a man they've never met, for girls they might very well never meet. All on the honouring of an oath. Why do I say these things? Because war is a purifier, Greyjoy. It breaks the weak and hones the strong, purges love and replaces it with despair, ruins families and homes as much as anything does. Take care that it does not break you, Theon. What is dead may very well never die, but a broken man often dies the slowest."
--
Author's Note: In which I try and force some sense into Theon as bluntly as all hell. I imagine Robb might have a word with me about that.
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Still, this looks like it will be quite interesting.
