Deal

At the Dreadfort's Training Ground, a group of Winterfell soldiers checked the identities of the surrendering soldiers and other prisoners one by one.

Once their identities were confirmed, the prisoners were assigned to teams guarded by other Winterfell soldiers, clearing away the bodies and wreckage left by the battle.

Robb sat in the back of an emptied cart while a medic tended to the sword wound on his left arm.

Beside him, two other medics were helping Blood Wind, who lay lazily on the ground, by pulling out arrows and cleaning his wounds.

Blood Wind certainly didn't want strangers approaching and touching him. If Robb hadn't been calming him in his thoughts the whole time, the two men's painful arrow-pulling would have been enough to turn them into snacks.

"Have you found Roose Bolton?"

Watching Eddard oversee the counting of the prisoners on the Training Ground, Robb turned to ask Little Jon beside him.

"Not yet. We've already sent out search parties to look for him... Lord Robb, look over there!"

Little Jon, clad in full plate armor, spoke in a muffled voice. As he answered Robb, he suddenly pointed to the right.

At that, Robb immediately looked in the direction Little Jon was pointing. Beneath the wall on the right, a hidden door had opened.

With a dagger held to his neck and his hands bound behind his back, Roose was being marched toward Robb, his face livid.

The one holding the dagger to Roose's neck was his bastard son, Ramsay.

With his trademark smile on his face, Ramsay spotted Robb looking his way and waved with his free left hand.

As the distance between them shrank, Ramsay looked at Robb's bloodstained face, and the scene of their last meeting flashed through his mind.

In a dilapidated house in Hornwood.

"Honored Young Wolf Lord, your loyal Hound greets you.

Is there something you would like me to do?"

Robb, his face hidden beneath the hood of a cloak, heard Ramsay's affected words.

He pulled off his hood and gave a soft laugh. "Heh. Ramsay, I might know you better than your father does. Drop the act. Let's talk normally."

"Lord Robb, your Hound doesn't quite understand what you mean."

"Your brother, Lord Roose's eldest son, Domeric Bolton—you poisoned him!"

At Robb's sudden accusation, Ramsay's smile froze.

The air in the dilapidated house fell silent. The two stared at each other without speaking for a long while.

The smile gradually faded from Ramsay's face. At last, he spoke first, expressionless. "I don't know where you heard that absurd rumor. But I'd like to know why Lord Robb is so interested in me."

"Fine. If you say it's a rumor, then it's a rumor. I'll get straight to the point. Let's make a deal."

Hearing Ramsay deny it, Robb shrugged, unconcerned. Rather than answer his question, he got right to the point.

"What deal?"

When Robb came to the heart of the matter, Ramsay dropped the subject and asked.

Robb suddenly stood up, braced both hands on the battered wooden table, and leaned forward. In a low voice, he said, "Help me destroy most of the Dreadfort's army and kill Roose Bolton. I'll make you Count of Dreadfort, Ramsay Bolton."

"Hahaha! I'm my father's only son. I'm bound to inherit the Dreadfort one day. Young Wolf Lord, do you take me for a child? You're offering to trade me something that's already mine."

Ramsay didn't vehemently object or refuse when Robb spoke of destroying House Bolton's army and killing his father.

Instead, he was deeply dissatisfied with the reward Robb had offered.

"Is that so? Lord Roose is in the prime of his life. Never mind whether he'll live to seventy or eighty. If one day he gets in the mood and sires another ten or eight sons, like that old stallion of House Frey, are you sure he'll pass the title on to you?

"Hmm? Lord Ramsay Snow?"

Seeing how certain Ramsay seemed that the Dreadfort would be his, Robb shook his head with a smile and spoke lightly.

Those words seemed to strike home. Ramsay didn't answer right away, but sat in silence for a moment before asking, "House Bolton is the foundation of my power. You want me to destroy most of its army.

"Once the Dreadfort is in your hands, you could change your mind and kill me just like that, couldn't you, Lord Robb?"

"Ramsay, do you think I'm a fool?"

Robb immediately shot back.

"Of course not. I think you're wiser than the rumors say."

Robb's question caught Ramsay off guard. He shook his head at once.

"Heh. Don't call me wise. I don't like that word.

"But back to the point: as long as I'm not a fool, and as long as I still want to rule the North as its lord, I wouldn't do that.

"Breaking an oath and murdering one's own loyal man would stain House Stark's thousand-year honor. My father, Eddard, would never allow me to do such a thing."

Hearing Ramsay call him wise, Robb instinctively frowned, then continued with a smile,

"Once you've betrayed your family and your father, I'll be the only one you can rely on.

"If I'm not worried that you'll betray me, and you're a man of great ability, why would I want to kill you?

"I think we'll become the closest of partners. I swear it by the Old and New Gods!"

Robb began with a smile, but grew more serious as he spoke. By the end, he had raised his hand to swear an oath.

Whether it was the sincerity of Robb's words or the weight of Eddard's name and the Old and New Gods, Ramsay smiled at Robb after hearing him out, then dropped to one knee.

"You are my lord. From this day until death, I am yours!"

Moved by Ramsay's oath, Robb walked around the battered table and pulled him to his feet. "From now on, we'll be like the king and my father: both lord and vassal, and brothers!"

"Yes. What would you have me do this time?"

"I hear you have many spies and far-reaching connections.

"I want you to use your special channels to find some Wildfire, then put it in custom-made wine casks. The sooner and more discreetly, the better. As for the Gold dragons to buy the Wildfire, I'll send a trusted retainer with them."

"That won't be a problem. With Gold dragons, anything can be arranged."

"Also, I want you to inform your father that I plan to raid..."

"Ramsay, well done! I'll reward you handsomely for your service."

Seeing Ramsay approach, momentarily distracted, Robb spoke first with delight.

"Lord Robb, you're too kind. Everything was thanks to you."

Coming back to himself, Ramsay answered with a respectful expression.

Robb didn't argue over who deserved the credit. He stepped forward and gave Ramsay an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

Then he turned to Roose, whom Ramsay was holding captive, and smiled. "The Seven Kingdoms have always thought House Stark's words, 'Winter is Coming,' were just a warning or a threat.

"But now... winter has come, Lord Roose!"

Thank you to Arbitration Authority for the 1,000 coins, and to the Transcendent Man for the monthly pass. Thanks as well to all the readers who voted and followed along.

P.S. Starting today, I'll update two chapters at a time.