Carliene Stark

II Chapter 71

Rosby was to Highgarden what a shed was compared to a sept. It as small and simple, a few grey building surrounded by an armed wall. Whatever colours and sigil House Rosby may have decorated it with once, now the three-headed dragon if Targaryen flew above its walls. The thatch-roofed host that surrounded the walls in the form a tiny village were in turn surrounded by the largest war camp I had ever seen. I dare say it must have been the larges host anyone had ever seen. The tens formed a colourful sea of linen, silk and wool. Sigils form seemingly all over the lands were gathered there, making it seem almost like a festival had gathered in the bleak grey of the winter lands.

It had snowed throughout the night and for most of the day. And although the sun still melted most of it away whenever it peeked through the thick clouds, in the shadows and places it didn't reach, the white blankets and snowdrifts remained. As Lord Tyrion's generals guided the soldiers to find an open space to erect their own tent, I took a moment to take in the sight. My eyes travelling across the masses. How many men did Queen Daenerys have by now? A hundred thousand? Two hundred? Tyrion was right: this was history in the making.

I followed Lord Tyrion towards the castle, Lord Swyft and Grey Worm were at his side, while I followed next to Ser Heatherspoon. Behind us trailed Ser Gerold Dayne, who I had discovered was a very silent traveling companion, especially compared to Tyrion. 

"What a mad time to be alive" the old knight next to me shook his head, his sand coloured warhorse snorting silently. I studied him, waiting for him to continue. "To think, I would still get a chance to see the world made anew at my age" he gave a dry chuckle. 

I chewed on my lip, only a small raw spot remained from the crack that once split it. "Do you think that is what we are doing?" I pondered thoughtfully, my gaze traveling to the people around us as we passed through what I imagined was the Dothraki army.

I did not answer for a while, probably as distracted as I was to watch these strange people from a distant land. They looked different. spoke different and they even smelled different. I studied men with long hair, with braids at their back that were decorated with colourful cloth and small ornaments, some even had bells in them. They wore skins and boiled leather and undyed wool. Many of them were closely huddled around smoking fires and it made me wonder if they were even used to such weather. Did it even snow east of the narrow sea? It seemed like a silly thing not to know, but I truly had no idea. 

What will happen to these people when the true winter comes?

"Everything is changing" Ser Heatherspoon pointed out. "It did so once before when Robert Baratheon succeeded in that rebellion of his. And now everything is changing again. Dragons are back and it is snowing in the Crownlands"

I frowned at him. "Surely snow isn't such a rare thing here" I objected. Not as rare as dragons at least. 

The old man raised his eyes to the sky. "Still.." he mumbled thoughtfully. "It feels like a bad omen"

My throat tightened. I knew exactly what he was talking about. Worse yet, I was burdened with the knowledge of what was truly to come with this winter. I took a deep breath and straightened in my saddle, looking at the path ahead and the castle in front of us. With such a large host we may even have a chance against whatever there is to face up north.

The only thing great about the great hall of the small castle was the silver haired Targaryen queen sitting in the high seat of honour. She wore a completely black dress, which made her hair shine even brighter. By her side stood Lord Varys and Lady Missandei, each of them with their hands neatly folded in front of them.

"Your grace" Tyrion bowed his head, while his Lords and the Unsullied fell to one knee. I quickly followed them, joining in the formal greeting.