The King of Winters

Chapter-133

Argella

It snowed heavily for four days after they left the banks of the White Knife. The snow hindered their speed and made the progress into a crawl. Argella knew she should have reached the position of the eastern host by now, but they were no where to be seen. Every day they marched, until finally the trees thinned and gave way to a patchwork landscape of rolling hills, meandering streams, and snowy fields, where the husks of abandoned holdfasts and villages covered in the snow.

The autumn snows were heavy that moonturn. Ella had seen it with her own eyes. The snowfall had been pleasant enough at first when she arrived to the North as a southron woman and a Queen to the lands of this distant place. She had found it magical then and had loved to riden as the snowflakes dropped down all around her. But the cold was gnawing her bones now, and her cheeks were always flushed even as she had wrapped layers of fox furs and ermine around her.

Ser Trent and Brienne endured the cold much better than she did. If they were bothered by it, they never showed. Argella hardly had the patience that they had and she had cursed the snows more than once. Once Big Bucket had heard her doing it. He had simply laughed at her and informed her that it was only the start of autumn and she was yet to see the winter which would make these ones seem as warm as kisses. She was shocked to see the casual way in which he said that. Not for the first time, she reflected on what a strange people these northerners were. Her husband had been a stranger to her. But his men were stranger still.

She had half a mind to return back to Winterfell as instructed by those who were around her. Brienne had been the foremost among them. The maid of Tarth had broken her solemn silence as Argella was taking refuge from the cold in her steaming hot bath. The hot water made her think of her home in the Stormlands, and she took strength from them throughout her time in the cold march. “Your grace,” she said as Ella was cleaning her hair and brushing it out until it sprang back in thick black curls. “Would you like to return back to Winterfell?”

Argella would have liked that in truth. Winterfell was warm even when it was snowing. Water from the hot springs was piped through the walls of the castle to warm those who resided within. And Ella had loved to bathe in the hot springs that steamed beneath the trees of the ancient godswood. She could be back in Winterfell safe and sound before long. Ser Trent would gladly escort her back should she ask for it. But she had made up her mind, long ago.

She would have a much better time living her life in Winterfell, Argella knew, but she could not leave them. They were her people now, her friends, and her followers, and if not for her they would still be safe at their homes the same way she could be in Winterfell. She brought them out for battle. If the snow or the invaders chanced to take the toll of us, I’ll will be here by their side to pay my price. I’ve commanded them for so long and I can do it longer still. I won’t let them take us; neither the cold, nor the invaders, she vowed silently, reaching back over her shoulder to touch her bow. I won’t.

Argella had simply shaken her head. “Would you like for me to send you back to Winterfell, Brienne?” she had asked instead. She had not missed the way Brienne stayed by her side throughout the march. No one spoke to her except Ella and she could see that most of the northerners didn't like her marching alongside them. For a moment she had felt bad for bringing Brienne alongside her.

That had taken Brienne aback. The tall girl had reeled back as if Ella had slapped her. “My lady-, your grace, I am yours to command. Your liege woman, or . . . whatever you would have me be. I swore to shield your back and keep your counsel and give my life for yours, if need be. I swore it by the old gods and the new. I only wish to be by your side.”

“And I am honored to have you by my side,” Ella informed the older girl.

“It's only that I thought you were cold and weary-”