Outside Winterfell, the snow on the Kingsroad had begun to thaw, leaving the road thick with mud.
Robb Stark personally escorted Lynn a long way.
He said little, merely ordering his men to load a dozen heavy purses into Lynn's carriage.
"The North isn't rich, but this is everything we can spare."
Robb's voice left no room for refusal.
"You'll have plenty of expenses on the road. Don't scrimp."
The purses weighed heavily in Lynn's hands, filled entirely with gold dragons.
This was more than money. It was an investment in him by Robb and the entire North, as well as a token of their goodwill.
"All right. I'll take it!"
Lynn did not refuse. He simply met Robb's eyes solemnly.
"I'll be waiting for you to come back safely."
Robb nodded firmly, his eyes full of trust.
Without another word, Lynn turned his horse and set off south with his hundred guards.
The hoofbeats grew fainter until they vanished at the end of the road.
Once they passed beyond the North's snow line, the chill in the air faded day by day.
When the company entered the Neck, warm, damp air washed over them. This was the Neck's domain, a land of sprawling marshes and towering ancient trees, where the road appeared and disappeared in the thick mist.
Most of the native northerners in the company had never seen anything like it, and they seemed uneasy.
Lynn, however, remained calm.
With his keen senses, he could even detect the small figures hidden deep in the marshes, watching them warily with poisoned blowdarts at the ready.
They were Crannogmen.
Lynn paid them no heed, merely keeping his men in line and moving swiftly through without looking around.
These mysterious vassals of House Stark would not trouble a company flying