The Lone Wolf Returns(RECONTINUED)

Chapter 7:The Bastard Knight

Arya looked over the letter with raised eyebrows. "A Targaryen? Truly?"

"I'd take him over Crow's Eye," Tom Sevenstrings said with a wry smile.

Arya shrugged. "Well, his letter's already burnt. There was one from Highgarden written in Mace Tyrell's hand, about his heir, and...what were the others?"

It was Lanna, the pretty golden-haired maid, who answered her. Not for the first time, Gendry wondered where Arya had found her. "Marlon Manderly, the cousin of Lord Wyman of White Harbour. Walder Frey, known as Black Walder"-

Arya spat. Lanna paused before timidly continuing. "Ah...Lord Rickard Ryswell, an heir to The Rills...Larence Hornwood, formerly Larence Snow, heir to Hornwood..."

"Northern lords," Arya said thoughtfully, nodding. "But how many of them declared for Bolton when he stole the North from my family?"

Lanna hesitated. "I..."

"That wasn't a question. They all did." She paused. "All have helped him ravage the North or done it themselves, even this...Crow's Eye. All but the Targaryen."

Gendry's fingers twitched. I like this not.

"Write to his...Halfmaester, was it?" That made her smile. "Tell him I'll meet the boy. On the morrow we'll resume our march. I fear we've overstayed our welcome in the Twins."

The idea of Arya obeying the invisible laws of courtesy was almost enough to make him snort.

"And where are we marching, Your Grace?" Ned Dayne inquired. "North or south? The Targaryen prince is situated in the Stormlands."

"South, for now. But we'll not leave the Riverlands. I wonder-d'you suppose Lady Smallwood misses me at all?"

X

The march to Acorn Hall was littered with hunger, brutal snows and exhaustion. Somehow, though, Arya did not seem to mind any of it; even when the cold made her skin go white and bloodless, or when Gendry noticed the bones in her face more and realised she'd not been eating well.

When they made camp one night, he came to her tent to bring her some of the hard, half-cooked sausages left over from his rations. He was surprised to see Ned Dayne was already there.

Gendry eyed the lean blonde, who was speaking in hushed tones to Arya. He noted that her two shadows had left; at least for the moment.

Arya noticed him immediately and inclined her head while Ned turned clumsily around.

"Oh. Ser Waters."

"Lord Dayne."

Ned looked embarrassed by the title. "I was only, ah..."

"It's quite alright, my lord," Arya told him mildly, waving a hand. "We'll resume our conversation on the morrow."

Ned turned to her, giving Gendry his back. He could not see the younger boy's face, but he could hear the sweetness in his voice when he told her, "If it please Your Grace...I would like for you to call me 'Ned'. Lord is just...too formal."

Gendry frowned. You didn't even recognise her, he thought jealously.

She smiled slyly. "I would like that as well. Very well, Ned, you have my leave to go."

He swept into a bow worthy of a knight from a song before departing.

"Ser Waters," Arya greeted jovially. "What's that in your hand?"

Gendry suddenly felt stupid, gripping his greasy burlap sack of leftover sausages. "I-you looked thin, Your...Your Grace." Titles, always titles. I will never be able to address her without the bloody things, no matter how high I rise. "I thought to bring you something. They're hard to chew and not the best tasting, but I thought they might serve."