"Let Cleos Frey go to King's Landing. I will do everything I can for Lord Eddard's children," Gendry said.
This envoy, Cleos, was the eldest son of Ser Emmon Frey and Genna Lannister, and one of the captives taken in the Battle of the Whispering Wood.
"That little weasel?" Lord Jason said. "The boy will do well enough. He can carry the message, at least, though those cousins are not worth much." Cleos had inherited none of the Lannister beauty, height, or golden hair and blue eyes. Instead he looked like a little weasel, slim, brown-haired, with a short chin, a gaunt face, and pale, watery, colorless eyes.
"I thank you for your generosity on behalf of Sansa and Arya," Robb Stark said, rising to offer his thanks.
Most of the lords understood perfectly well that such an exchange would never happen. Mad though Cersei Lannister might be, she was not a fool. There was no chance she would trade the main line of House Stark for a few cousins. But the talk of exchanging hostages would serve well enough as a smokescreen, hiding their plan for the Vale.
"Lady Catelyn, you are a woman I hold in high esteem. I am grateful that you are willing to make this journey to the Stormlands. Choose your guards carefully, and see to your safety," Gendry said to Catelyn. In truth, he had no real hope for either envoy. It was little more than going through the motions.
Seeing that the will of the room could not be opposed, Catelyn, though inwardly unhappy, still stepped forward and forced herself to appear gracious. She smiled with difficulty. "It... it is my honor."
Catelyn felt as though the pain in her heart was more than she could bear. She had most likely already lost her husband. If she lost her daughters as well, then it would be as though the very foundation of her life had been torn away. But with matters as they stood, if Robert's son was to become a good king, and a strong one, then he would never yield to her woman's softness. As for her own son Robb, he had already begun settling into his role with frightening speed. He was now a lord, merely a general beneath a king, and he had to put on the mask of severity and calm.
"Prince, I have one small suggestion," Robb said suddenly. "We have already sent out two envoys, one the child of Lannister and Frey, the other my lady mother. One goes to King's Landing, the other to the Stormlands. I think that if we want to harry Casterly Rock, we should contact Lord Balon and have him send out his longship fleet. We are at the Twins now, and Seagard has ships that can sail for the Iron Islands."
Gendry looked again at Theon, and there was real hope in Theon's eyes as well. Theon was known for his arrogant, swaggering nature and his careless, mocking smile. He was a handsome youth of nineteen, slender in build, with dark brown hair. Perhaps for the sake of tonight's grand feast, he was dressed like the son of some great lord. He had removed his black silk gloves embroidered with golden spiral patterns, and wore supple black leather boots, soft silver-gray wool breeches, a gold chain about his neck, and at his waist a dagger and a longsword in a black-and-gold scabbard. Altogether, it was a very fussy, flamboyant look.
"It is a good suggestion, Robb, but at a time like this, I think you need someone by your side all the more. Theon is like a brother to you. As for sending an envoy to the Iron Islands, I will write King Balon a long letter myself," Gendry said, cutting the suggestion off at once as he looked at Robb. He was still only fifteen or sixteen, after all. The fact that he trusted Balon and Theon only showed that he did not really understand either man. Balon was half-mad, and Theon was vain and rootless.
King Balon was the sort of man whose actions defied belief. His obsession with the Old Way had crossed into madness, and his wits were none too sharp either. His first rebellion had gotten his father killed. His second rebellion had gotten his two sons killed. After that, his wife had gone half-mad too.
Catelyn let out a breath inwardly. That was a proposal she would never have agreed to. Theon ought to stay with them, while anyone at all could be sent to Pyke. That madman Balon could never be trusted. His brief kingship had failed quickly enough, but a man like that would rise in rebellion again the moment he saw an opening. So long as her own family was not involved, Catelyn could still be sensible enough.
"Since you have already made up your mind, then so be it," Robb replied. In his own view, if an envoy had to be sent to the Iron Islands, then Theon would have been the easiest person to deal with Balon. Part of it was simply that Theon had lived beside Robb for so many years. Their friendship ran deep. Theon had even saved Bran from wildlings once.
Gendry saw the reluctance in Robb's eyes, and saw the light in Theon's gaze slowly dim. Still, the fact that Gendry had said Theon was like Robb's brother probably pleased him. Theon did not get along with the bastard, but with Robb, the two of them were close as could be. But sorry, for everyone's sake, it was better to keep the chameleon from taking the stage.
"I would rather stay by the direwolf's side too," Theon said with a casual smile, pretending that he could accept it all easily enough. But in his heart, Theon understood. Though Lord Eddard had raised him alongside the wolf children, he had never truly been a Stark. From Lady Catelyn down to the kitchen boys, everyone in the castle knew he was only a hostage meant to ensure his father behaved, and treated him that way. Even that gloomy bastard Jon had been treated better than he was.
Theon looked at Gendry and found himself thinking about the old hatred between the ironborn and the storm kings. In years past, House Durrandon had once expanded its kingdom into the Riverlands, until it was later overthrown by House Hoare. That was an ancient blood feud.
The Riverlands had belonged to Storm's End for more than three centuries, though in every generation there had been at least one great uprising. More than a dozen rebels from different houses had proclaimed themselves King of the Rivers or King of the Trident, swearing to break the Stormlands' hold. Some of them had even managed it, for half a month, a month, even a year. But their rule was always precarious, and in the end Storm's End would send its armies to crush them. Every would-be king ended dangling from a rope. It was not until later, when Harwyn Hardhand led the ironborn to seize their chance, landing forty leagues south of Seagard, carrying their longships overland on their shoulders, marching to the Blue Fork, and then taking to the river to begin their raids.
"Prince Gendry, Lord Robb, my lords. I... I have an awkward request," Lady Maege said, stepping forward with some embarrassment. The Lady of Bear Island was a gray-haired, short but powerfully built woman. She always wore armor, and her weapon of choice was a spiked mace.
"Please, my lady."
Maege went on, "I take this battle against Tywin to be the last fight of my life. My brother became a man of the Night's Watch because of his son Jorah, and can never return home. Before that, he told me his wish was for Jorah to join the Night's Watch as well. As his aunt, I truly wish I could see Jorah one more time, though I fear that will never happen. That is why I want my daughter Dacey to follow Prince Gendry for a while. If she can see Jorah and pass on my brother's wish, then my heart will be at peace. As for whether Jorah is willing, I no longer care."
"I regard Gendry as both my brother and my king, and Lady Maege's wish is only natural. From this day on, let Dacey guard the king's side," Robb said generously. Everyone knew the story of Jorah. He could hardly embarrass the whole room for the sake of one man, so it was better to be open-handed about it.
"Thank you for your kindness, brother."
"I am deeply grateful," Lady Maege said.
"It would be my honor," Dacey said at once, rising to her feet.
Gendry helped the woman guard up and thanked Robb. Jon and Dacey, the two he had taken from Robb's side, were both able men and women with brains and courage alike. The Young Wolf still needed guiding.
Once everyone had finished discussing the broad plan, the talk had gone on to everyone's satisfaction. This little interruption from Bear Island was a sign that the gathering should be drawing to a close. Still, a smaller drinking party remained inside the tent, and in the end only a handful stayed behind: Gendry, Ser Barristan, Anguy, Robb of the North, Bronze Yohn of the Vale, the Blackfish, Lord Jason of Seagard, and Ser Boggs of Crackclaw Point.
After the others had all withdrawn, the tent felt somewhat emptier, though fortunately the fire still kept it warm.
"Theon is a boy of Pyke. I hope you remember that," Gendry said to Robb first.
"But he..." Robb flushed red. "We grew up together. He is my friend."
"But he is not a Stark. Jon is, and Bran is. Do you think ten years in Winterfell would change his nature?" the Blackfish said, looking at Robb. "Lord Eddard often played the father before Theon, yes, but it was King Robert and Lord Eddard who brought vengeance and slaughter to Pyke. Theon has likely lived all these years beneath the shadow of your father's stern face and Ice. And as for your mother's temper, I think you know it well enough. Suspicion and distance, most like. But where Theon is concerned, perhaps you ought to listen to your mother."
Ser Barristan could not help speaking up. "Boy, it is good that you have a knight's spirit, but when it comes to the men of the Iron Islands, I do not think you can judge them as you would ordinary men. In the beginning, King Balon stirred his own father into rebellion, and it got his father killed. Balon's own rebellion then got two of his sons killed as well. There is a streak of cruelty in their very nature. Even an old man like me can see that, though young Lord Theon hides it well, he knows he is only an outsider in House Stark."
"Robb, I treat you as my own younger brother, so I hope you will remember these words," Gendry said to Robb. "A warrior who does not use his head will remain a warrior all his life, and never become a true lord. I want you to think of the Starks, Lord Cregan, Lord Torrhen."
"Yes." Robb's face reddened again. Suddenly Gendry seemed even more unfathomable to him, as though he moved through the political whirlpool of the South with perfect ease. Was that why his father had resisted the South? Its waters ran too deep. Only the strongest and the most cunning had the right to laugh in the end.
"Robb, order your men to strengthen the defenses along the western coast," Gendry said. "King Balon may not be thinking of the Westerlands at all. He may be thinking of the North."
"Quite right, Robb," Lord Jason said with a nod. "Our castle was built for one purpose, to defend against ironborn raids. They do not care which kingdom they are attacking. They only care for plunder and slaughter."
"Yes." Robb nodded, half understanding, but he could feel the weight behind their warning. After accepting their advice, he took his leave, though the others still showed no sign of dispersing. They were about to stride forward along the mountain road, and they had to be ready for anything.
"The boy is still a good boy, but my niece spoiled him. It would have been better if he had gone elsewhere as a foster son or squire. My niece has that soft green-land lady's way of thinking in her head, and sadly this is not an age for that," the Blackfish sighed. It could only be said that comparisons truly were cruel. Compared to Robb, the smith had truly been tempered by hardship. As for the Stark children, they had grown up surrounded by love and indulgence, as if they were children of summer.
"All will be well, Lord Brynden," Gendry said.
"For now, what matters most is securing the Twins and moving on the Vale," Bronze Yohn said.
"After we leave, Lord Jason will continue managing the western side of the Twins, while the Watch on the Water and the eastern side will be left to the Crabbs."
"As you command."
In this new age, everyone had to stride boldly forward.