The Lannister Wolf Series

Chapter Six

"We may never see each other again," Nanteza pointed out as she and Evelyn walked toward the stables where the hands had brought out their two horses.

Evelyn nodded as she took the reins of her furry brown horse while Nanteza was handed the reigns of a lovely white stallion.

"That is how life is isn't it? You meet someone but then you never see them again," Evelyn sighed. "One of the reasons why I hate traveling because I meet new people but when I return home, I never see them again."

"Writing is also hard because I live in Dorne and you in Winterfell," Nanteza sighed, gathering the reins of her horse and lifting herself on with the grace of a dancer.

Evelyn smiled as she lifted herself up, a little less graceful than the slender Dornish girl before turning to Nanteza. "It is just like what you told me last night when we slept in Maya's room. If fate sees it fit that we meet again, we will run into each other."

Nanteza smiled, "I truly hope so. You, Maya and Lillia are the best friends I have ever had... not many people want to be friends with a bastard."

Reaching over, Evelyn patted Nanteza's tanned hand, their difference in skin tones contrasting before Evelyn reached into her saddle bag and drew out something.

"Here, I want you to have this." She said, holding something small out to Nanteza.

When the girl looked at the cold metal object in her palm, she saw that it was an arrowhead. Long and slender, not bold and large like a hunting arrow nor incredibly slender and cylinder shaped like a warrior's arrow but unique and elegant, the two-pointed barbs swirled around the arrow shaft like spiral stairs before disappearing into the end of the arrow where it would attach to the wooden shaft.

"It's beautiful," Nanteza whispered, running her fingers over the razor-sharp tip.

"My brother Jon is teaching me how to work with metal and I wanted to design my own arrowheads so when I grow up, my arrowheads are completely different from everyone else's. Sort of like my trademark!" Evelyn explained. "This is my favorite design. I want you to have it."

Nanteza smiled, her cheeks heating up at the mention of Jon before she tucked the arrowhead into her pant pocket, "Thank you Eve. I'll always keep it with me."

"Hey Warlock," Brienne whispered, snapping Evelyn out of her thoughts. "We're here."

Evelyn lifted her eyes to see that she had been riding on Chance next to Jaime and Brienne who were both hand bound to two separate horses, Jaime flopping forward from exhaustion. Turning to look at where they were headed, she saw that they were riding through the gates of Harrenhal. Good. As they pulled into the muddy, soiled town and Jaime and Brienne were brought from their horses. A man with short greying hair approached them and Locke spoke loudly.

"Lord Bolton, I give you the Kingslayer!" he said, moving to kick Jaime forward but suddenly felt his foot swinging out from under him, the wrong way and he splattered in the mud.

Several of his men tried to hold back their chuckles but when the townspeople laughed, everyone else joined in. Lord Bolton lifted his eyes to see the petite, but intimidating figure move from around the fallen Locke to stand directly behind Jaime and Brienne who were both bound. He had been planning on paying Locke and throwing the two prisoners in the dungeon but when the figure placed a gloved hand firmly on both Brienne and Jaime's shoulders to offer them support, he reconsidered his actions.

"Who is this?" he asked Locke as the man climbed to his feet, coated in mud.

"Don't know my lord," Locke admitted, wiping mud from his face as he glared at the back of Evelyn's head, "Just came on us in the woods. Threatened to kill us all if we did not bring the prisoners here to be treated for their wounds."