The many ravens sent from Winterfell soon reached the keeps of the North's nobles, completing their task of delivering the messages.
White Harbor, House Manderly, New Castle study,
Count Wyman stared at the letter in his hands, so shocked that his broad mouth and double chin stayed agape for a long while.
"Scholar Theomer, is this letter real? Lord Robb not only destroyed most of House Bolton's forces, but also captured the Dreadfort, which had never been taken before?"
At his lord's question, Scholar Theomer gave a wry smile and replied, "Lord Wyman, I reacted just like you when I saw the letter.
But for some time now, all kinds of rumors have been circulating. Some claimed to be deserters from House Bolton, chased by Stark cavalry.
Others said that House Stark had occupied Ironstone Town, which belonged to House Bolton. There were even reports that the Dreadfort was ablaze."
The aging Scholar Theomer paused to catch his breath, then continued,
"With all these rumors, plus a letter bearing the lord's seal, I believe this must be true!"
"Unbelievable! Lord Robb is incredible! As expected, a wolf's cub could never be a docile dog."
Count Wyman was visibly excited. His hands fidgeted as he spoke, and then he seemed to remember something and continued questioning Scholar Theomer,
"Is that shipment of Myrish Ointment almost here?"
"Yes. Judging by the schedule, it should arrive in White Harbor within the next couple of days."
"Good. Weren't some of our White Harbor merchants robbed? As it happens, I'll personally take this shipment of Myrish Ointment to Winterfell."
"Lord Wyman, I'll make the arrangements for your journey at once."
"Mm. While I'm away, have Wylis take care of matters in White Harbor. Sorry for the trouble, but please teach him as much as you can."
"Of course!"
Communication in the North was difficult and news traveled slowly. Messages were carried almost entirely by raven.
So when they first received the raven letter from Winterfell, most noble houses in the North couldn't believe its contents.
However, the letter bore House Stark's lordly seal. Though most houses remained skeptical, they either set out themselves or sent representatives, all heading for Winterfell.
The Westerlands, Casterly Rock.
Casterly Rock was a towering, magnificent stone castle on the western coast of Westeros, overlooking bustling Lannisport and the vast Sunset Sea beyond.
The castle had been carved from a massive rock. Its walls and other structures made its defenses even stronger.
Of course, the castle's solid stone construction made disposing of human waste extremely difficult.
But after the clever Tyrion redesigned the system, a well-planned network carried waste straight to the sea, sparing the Lannisters years of trouble.
Like the Dreadfort in the North, Casterly Rock had never been taken by force, according to the histories.
At that moment, in the castle's stone garden, Tywin Lannister, Warden of the West, sat comfortably in his chair, savoring golden Arbor wine and admiring the beautiful sunset.
Kevan Lannister, in his fifties and dressed in fine gold clothes embroidered with the Lion sigil, hurried toward him with a raven letter in hand.
"What is it this time? More bad news?"
Tywin knew his younger brother well. One look at his expression, and he asked outright.
"Our spies report that the wolf pup in the North has captured the Dreadfort and taken Roose Bolton prisoner to Winterfell.
He plans to install Roose's bastard, Ramsay Snow, as the new Count of Dreadfort."
Having served as his brother's right hand for many years, Kevan knew what mattered. He delivered the crucial news right away.
"What? How long has it been? Roose Bolton was defeated just like that? Taken prisoner by a boy who hasn't even grown his first beard?"
At the news, Tywin straightened in his chair. The sudden movement sent a good deal of the expensive wine sloshing from his cup.
"Yes. We underestimated the wolf pup. Our spy says he saw right through Roose's battle plan and anticipated his every move."
"Damn. The North will now be united as a single, solid block. It'll be much harder to meddle there."
"Those barbarians in the North rarely come south. Why worry about them?"
Hearing Tywin's sigh, Kevan asked in confusion.
"House Stark is a staunch supporter of Baratheon. If, in the future..."
Tywin set down his wine cup and gazed at the sun sinking below the horizon, speaking quietly.
"If what?"
"Nothing. You'll understand someday."
"Mm."
Kevan had always admired his brother. Whenever Tywin didn't want to speak about something, Kevan never pressed him.
Remembering the question he'd had when he saw the raven letter, he changed the subject.
"Hadn't that spy we painstakingly planted been rooted out by the wolf pup? Where did these detailed reports come from?"
"Cersei and Jaime visited Winterfell with the king before. They were behind this spy. He's been quite useful and has reported many secrets from Winterfell."
Speaking of his children, Tywin smiled faintly. He was clearly very pleased with their work placing the spy.
"Our excellent Lannister twins, as expected!
"By the way, the spy's letter mentioned that the wolf pup tried to recruit Tyrion at Winterfell. Tyrion refused, but gave him a design for a set of riding gear."
Kevan praised them casually, then continued his report.
"Recruit him? Does the wolf pup want to drive a wedge into House Lannister?
"Tyrion would never agree. I've never considered him a Lannister, but I have to admit he has a Lannister's clever mind."
"What should we do next?"
"Send more people to the North's nobles and feel them out. Count Wyman of White Harbor is a shrewd businessman. I think we can do business with him.
"Then send a letter to Cersei and tell her to teach Joffrey more. She should get control of the eldest Stark girl soon."
In King's Landing, the Small Council had just ended, and several ministers bowed to Eddard at the head of the table before taking their leave.
As Eddard rose to leave, Grand Maester Pycelle, the last to remain, called out to him.
"L-Lord Eddard, I almost forgot. There's a raven letter from Winterfell for you."
The elderly Grand Maester finished haltingly, then tremblingly pulled a letter from his robes.
"Thank you, Maester Pycelle."
Eddard thanked him, took the letter, and unfolded it. The more he read, the more deeply his brow furrowed.
"Lord Eddard, your son is a brave warrior. Congratulations!"
Grand Maester Pycelle had clearly read the letter beforehand. He offered Eddard a compliment.
At his words, Eddard put away the raven letter and turned to look north. Shaking his head, he said something meaningful: "In a pack of wolves, the one to attack first is indeed the bravest, but also the one most likely to die."
Sam, round-bellied and comical in the way he walked, made his way through Black Castle with a smile.
When he spotted Jon cleaning with a cold expression, he immediately said, "Jon, a raven letter says your brother led an army to capture the Dreadfort and take Count Roose prisoner."
"Robb won a battle? What else did the letter say?"
Jon's face lit up at Sam's words, and he immediately asked.
"Nothing else, really. It just said Black Castle should strengthen its defenses. There's a Wildling army gathering beyond the Wall."
After relaying the letter's contents, Sam asked Jon with an earnest, awkward expression,
"Jon, I heard your brother is called the Young Wolf Lord. Tell me what he's like!"
At Sam's question, Jon thought of Robb as he'd been when Jon left Winterfell. "Honestly, I don't know what kind of person he's become now. But to me, he's a good brother who would protect his family and his home!"
Before you continue