Recruitment

"Theon, get up! It's time for training!"

In the Great Hall, Owen, fully dressed and full of energy, splashed a pitcher of ice-cold water in Theon's face.

"I hope your mother—"

Theon had been sprawled across the long table, dreaming of his harem. The cold water jolted him upright, and, still groggy, he blurted out a polite greeting.

"Lord Robb's already gone to the Training Ground. You know what happens if you're late! Everyone else has left. I'm the only one who came to wake you up. Shouldn't you thank me?"

Owen watched Theon hop around like a monkey, shaking water off himself. He was grinning on the inside, but kept a serious expression as he spoke.

At Owen's words, Theon glanced around the Great Hall.

He saw a crowd of servants cleaning up the enormous mess left behind in the hall. They really were the only two Winterfell officers still there.

"Thank you, Owen. Let's hurry! I don't want to do those humiliating, miserable frog jumps around the Training Ground again.

But why does my right cheek hurt so much?"

Theon hurried Owen toward the exit. As he went, he probed his aching right cheek with his tongue and asked Owen about it.

"You really don't remember anything from last night? You were so happy that you dragged Robb off to find the red-haired Rose, saying you wanted to try a group romp.

Then Lady Catelyn rewarded you by 'gently massaging' your right cheek! Pfft—hahaha!"

Owen had started out with a serious expression, but as he spoke, he remembered Theon getting slapped the night before and couldn't help bursting into laughter.

"You knew I was drunk, and she still hit me that hard?

Ow, stop laughing and let's go!"

When he learned that Catelyn had hit him, Theon rubbed his right cheek and muttered. Then he rolled his eyes, grabbed the still-laughing Owen, and headed for the Training Ground.

Winterfell's soldiers trained as usual that day, completely unaffected by the previous day's revelry.

The prisoners of war and wounded had been settled in groups by Winterfell's middle-ranking officials the day before.

The spoils, battle honors, and compensation for the fallen were still being tallied. It would probably take a few more days.

After morning training, Robb hurried straight to the Great Hall to deal with the domain's affairs that had piled up over the past half month.

"Maester Luwin, that should be enough for today. In a little while, send raven messages in my name to all the nobles in the North, asking them to come to Winterfell and claim their looted goods.

"At the same time, post a notice at Winterfell's gates. Anyone who can prove they own goods taken from their merchant caravan may come and claim them."

After spending half the day clearing the backlog, Robb gave his orders to Maester Luwin, who stood beside him.

"Very well. I'll see to it right away!"

Maester Luwin nodded, then turned and headed for the rookery.

Robb was talking with Daisy, who was still serving as his bodyguard, about whether Brandon had shown any unusual behavior recently.

Just then, a guard at the Great Hall reported that a Winterfell soldier had come to deliver news.

"Lord Robb, the Imp from House Lannister has arrived at the Winter Market. He's heading toward the red-light district.

"Lord Theon has taken some men to follow him. He asked me to find out whether you want them arrested."

A soldier in armor entered the Great Hall and immediately reported to Robb.

Robb knew what Tyrion was like, so he shook his head and said, "Tell Theon to invite them here. Uh, politely invite them!"

"As you command!"

The soldier accepted the order and left. Before long, the Imp and his three companions were brought in by Theon.

"Ha! I went to take a piss on the Wall, and when I came back, it felt like ages had passed.

"Winterfell has changed so much. Wouldn't you agree, Young Wolf Lord?"

As soon as Tyrion saw Robb, he began teasing him with a cheeky grin.

"Imp, you'd better show the lord some respect! Otherwise—"

Theon frowned at his tone and warned him.

Tyrion curled his lips into a smile and answered without the slightest fear. "Otherwise what? You'll chop me into even smaller pieces for your master?"

"You!"

"That's enough, Theon."

It had to be said: beneath Tyrion's rakish exterior, his skill at verbal sparring and mockery was fully honed.

Seeing how easily Tyrion had provoked Theon's anger, Robb raised a hand and stopped them from going any further.

"Tyrion Lannister, I found a secret letter from a powerful figure in the Westerlands while searching House Bolton's holdings.

"Would you be interested in reading it?"

"Ah, from the way you put it, I don't need to read the letter to know who wrote it. It must be my father, who loves plotting schemes everywhere.

"He probably saw that Lord Eddard had gone to King's Landing and that you'd only just taken charge of Winterfell, so he thought he could stir up House Bolton and cause you trouble.

"But who could have known you'd defeat and capture Roose Bolton outright?"

Tyrion certainly lived up to his reputation for intelligence; he understood at once. Yet he said all that openly, right in front of everyone.

Robb found Tyrion so amusing that his interest was instantly piqued. He cast aside the words he had planned to say and spoke just as bluntly. "Tyrion, your debauched behavior is only a shell you've put on to mask the discrimination you face from your family.

"Of course, you like that shell. You enjoy wearing it.

"But underneath, you're a clever man with a kind heart—a villain only in appearance!"

"Wow! Lord Robb, after that assessment, I don't even know what to say.

"I had no idea I was such a remarkable person!"

As soon as Robb finished speaking, Tyrion continued with his cheeky grin, replying in an exaggerated tone.

But the slight confusion in his eyes showed that Robb's words had affected him.

"Tyrion, join House Stark! I'll make you my right-hand man and give you all the room you need to put your talents to use.

"No one but me will be able to order you around.

"You're clever enough to tell whether I'm making this offer in earnest!"

Seeing that his words had caught Tyrion off guard, Robb pressed on, raising his voice as he addressed him.

As soon as he finished speaking, silence fell over the entire Great Hall.

No one had expected Robb and Tyrion to discuss something so important so openly, in a place like this.

Tyrion could sense the sincerity in Robb's words. For once, the usually quick-witted and eloquent man was left standing there, stunned, unable to find an answer.

Behind him, two guards in House Lannister's armor, decorated with roaring lions, silently exchanged a glance.

They felt that after hearing words like those, there was no way they'd be leaving the Great Hall alive.

But they weren't willing to surrender without a fight. They read the same resolve in each other's eyes: they would fight to the death.

Meanwhile, Yoren, the Night's Watchman known as "Raven," had been standing off to the side, all but invisible. He watched the scene unfold with an inscrutable expression.

Just as the two Lannister guards slowly reached for the hilts of their swords, Tyrion finally got his wits about him and laughed loudly. "Lord Robb, as you said, I'm just a dwarf, despised by the Lannisters.

"Whatever your purpose in doing this, I beg you not to waste so much effort on me. I'm not worth it!"

"Tyrion, remember what I told you today. When you reach the end of the road, I'll be your best choice!

"Oh, and stay in a guest room in the Main Keep tonight. The same one you used last time. Is that all right?"

"No need to trouble yourself this time. The girls outside the castle are probably missing my Silver stags—mm, and my little lion too. Ha ha!"

After Tyrion finished speaking, he bowed and took his leave. When he turned around, his face was as dark as a storm cloud.

The two Lannister guards behind him had clearly breathed a sigh of relief. They followed him toward the exit.

Yoren, the Night's Watchman, also bowed to Robb in farewell. He had not said a word the entire time. Then he turned and walked out.