Heading north

The morning air in Winterfell was bitterly cold.

The courtyard bustled with noise, the white breath of men and horses mingling in the air.

Two parties were making their final preparations to depart.

One was heading south, its banners fluttering.

They gathered around the king and his newly appointed Hand.

The other was heading north, and was far smaller.

It consisted of just over a hundred elite cavalrymen from the North, silent and grim.

Wrapped in heavy furs, Ned Stark approached Lynn.

The clamor of the courtyard seemed to fall away.

"My lord, you must remember what I told you before."

"You are the Hand of the King, but in King's Landing, you have no power of your own."

"Whose orders do the Gold Cloaks follow?"

"Whom do the nobles at court serve?"

"Investigating now would be like sticking your head into a lion's mouth and expecting it not to close its jaws."

Lynn's words were harsh, but they were the truth.

Ned hesitated for a long time before finally nodding.

"I can leave Jon's death uninvestigated for now, but what should I do? Just sit and wait?"

"Do nothing."

Lynn gave an answer Ned could not understand.

"Listen to me. Play the simple-minded, uncouth warrior they imagine you to be, a man who understands nothing but honor."

"Let them look down on you. Let them believe you pose no threat."

"The more incompetent you seem, the more absurdly you behave, the further they will lower their guard."

"That is how you survive in King's Landing."

Ned's breathing grew heavy.

Those words overturned every principle he had lived by.

Play the fool? That would be worse than death.

"Your first task is not to seek revenge. It is to stay alive."

"Lord Arryn has just been murdered. Everyone is watching you."

"If you show your hand too openly, you will make yourself everyone's target."

Lynn looked Ned straight in the eye and laid out the stakes once again.

"Only by staying alive can you protect the king and your family."

"You need time, my lord."

"Do not rush. Find the vipers hiding in King's Landing, one by one."

"Then deal with them the northern way. Cut off every last one of their heads."

Ned gripped his sword hilt tightly, veins bulging on the back of his hand.

He glanced at Sansa nearby, gazing at Prince Joffrey with longing written all over her face.

Then he looked at Arya, bouncing about beside Lynn with Needle at her waist.

For the children, then.

At last, something softened in Ned's eyes.

"I understand."

Ned spoke slowly, his voice hoarse.

"I will... be careful."

He reached out and clapped Lynn firmly on the shoulder.

"I entrust my daughter to you."

"And Jon. His birth will make him a target for many people. Please look out for him as well."

"Bring Arya back safely. Take care of them."

"I'm counting on you, Lynn!"

Lynn nodded solemnly.

"As you command, my lord."

A horn sounded.

The southbound party began to move slowly.

"Ned!"

King Robert's impatient call drifted faintly over.

Ned took one last look at Lynn and Arya.

Then he turned and strode toward the journey that would lead him to power and death.

Lynn watched the vast procession disappear into the distance.

He turned to Jon Snow, Arya Stark, Benjen Stark, and an unexpected guest behind him: the Imp, Tyrion Lannister.

"We should set off too."

Jon held the reins of his white horse.

His face betrayed little emotion as he merely nodded to Lynn.

Arya's face, meanwhile, was flushed with excitement.

She was finally leaving Winterfell, the place that had stifled her.

Lynn swung into the saddle.

The hundred northern cavalrymen mounted as one, their movements perfectly synchronized.

These were House Stark's most loyal warriors.

For the honor of House Stark, they would give everything, including their lives.

Now, they answered to Lynn alone.

"Hyah!"

Lynn shook the reins. His warhorse whinnied and led the way north.

The party took to the Kingsroad.

Vast wilderness stretched on either side, snow blanketing the ground.

The distant trees stood bare, like ranks of silent sentries.

This was clearly Arya's first journey of such length.

Riding a gentle little mare, she darted back and forth through the party, finding everything new and fascinating.

"Lynn, what's beyond the Wall?"

"Have you been there?"

"Can you take me to see it?"

Jon rode silently beside Lynn.

He glanced back at Winterfell's receding outline, conflicting emotions in his eyes.

That was the home where he had spent more than a decade of his life.

It was also a place where he would never truly belong.

"What are you thinking about?"

Lynn asked.

Jon came back to himself and shook his head.

"Nothing."

Lynn spoke to Jon.

"You went to see Bran last night, didn't you?"

"Lady Stark didn't give you a hard time, did she?"

Jon looked somewhat forlorn.

"She's always been like that."

"I'm used to it by now."

Lynn smiled and offered some reassurance.

"The Wall is a good place."

"Your birth doesn't matter there."

"The men of the Night's Watch are brothers, whether you're a bastard or not."

Jon stiffened.

He lifted his head and looked at Lynn.

But Lynn was gazing north, toward the edge of the world.

"Tyrion was right."

"Never forget what you are."

"Because the world will not."

"Arm yourself with it, and no one can use it to hurt you."

Jon pondered those words, lost in thought.

On the night of the feast, Catelyn had driven him away, leaving him unsettled.

Hearing those words again now, in a different frame of mind, he naturally understood them differently.

As he rode, Tyrion raised his cup to Lynn from a distance.

The party traveled for most of the day, and the sky gradually darkened.

Lynn ordered them to make camp beneath a hill sheltered from the wind.

The soldiers deftly built fires and pitched tents.

Before long, dozens of campfires glowed across the wilderness.

Their warm light drove back the cold and darkness.

Lynn handed Arya a piece of roasted venison.

The girl was already ravenous.

She grabbed the meat and began taking great bites.

There was nothing ladylike about her at all.

"Lynn!"

"I had no idea you were such a good cook!"

Just then, a scout rode out of the darkness.

He dismounted in front of Lynn.

"My lord."

There was a note of gravity in the scout's voice.

"We found a merchant caravan five li ahead."

"They seem to be in trouble."

Lynn raised an eyebrow.

"Trouble?"

"Yes, my lord."

The scout replied.

"Their wagon is stuck in a mud pit, and there's... a lot of blood around it."

"It looks as though they've just been through a battle."