Magic, Power and Glory (Game of Thrones)

Nothing Is Fair

After getting angry with Theon last night, I had felt guilty, but I also felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. He knew how I felt, and maybe it was not the best way to tell him, but at least he could not get confused as to what I mean. I could have been nicer, but it is too late now.

Originally I was going to apologize, but he was sitting with the bard and his women. I just did not want to have to speak to Mance Rayder, as I was worried that I would accidentally call him Mance and not Abel. That, and he would not hear me apologize.

Now I was sitting between Wyman Manderly and Barbrey Dustin. I was listening to Barbrey speak to her father, Rickard Ryswell, about the last winter. Apparently neither of them had experienced a winter this bad since Barbrey was three, although Rickard thinks this winter will be worse.

Wyman was busy eating sausages and was almost finished eating all of the ones on his plate, and did not seem to be full yet. I had eaten one, but I was not hungry. He finished and called for more food, and I honestly wasn't surprised.

Ramsay and Roose Bolton were arguing, but I could not hear them, as they were both incredibly quiet. Judging from the fearful look on Walda Frey's face, it was nothing good. Both of them were angry, and Ramsay had entered in a foul mood in the first place because of the warhorns that were blown all last night.

Everyone thinks that Stannis is near, but I doubt it. He will not wait for a siege. In fact, it might just be the Umber army that did not join up with Roose. That would make a lot more sense, as Stannis has to come from Deepwood Motte.

I looked up when the doors to the Great Hall were kicked open. Most people watched as Hosteen Frey strode down the hall with a body in his arms. If they did not watch him, they turned to look at the body and then watched him.

A dozen Frey men came with him, including Big Walder Frey. Ser Hosteen's arms and cloak were covered in blood. The body in his arms was covered in a pink frost, meaning his blood had frozen out in the cold.

"My brother Merrett's son," Hosteen stated, placing the body on the floor in front of the dais. "He was butchered and shoved beneath a snow bank. He was just a boy. Little Walder, his name was."

Ramsay rose from his seat and walked over to the body. He showed no emotion, but I knew he would pretend to care. Roose slowly rose from his seat, his eyes glued to the boy with a slight look of shock on his face.

"This was foul work," Roose said, his voice carrying across the hall for once. "Where did you find the body?"

"Under that ruined keep, my lord," replied Big Walder, who was only named that because he was a moon and a half older then the now-dead Little Walder. "The one with the old gargoyles." He was found near the First Keep then. "He went to get money owed to him and I told him not to go alone, but he did not listen."

"What man?" Ramsay asked, demanding to know. "Give me his name or point him out. I will make you a cloak of his skin."

"He never said, my lord," Big Walder stated. "Only that he won the coin at dice." The little boy hesitated, which would be suspicious in any other situation. "It was White Harbour men who taught dice. I do not know which ones, but it was them."

That was odd. He knew it was White Harbour men, but not which ones. How did he even know that they were from White Harbour then? I decided not to think on this, as his cousin has just died and he was probably upset.

"My lord, we know the man who did this!" Ser Stupid insisted, his voice booming through the hall. "Not by his own hand, no. He is too fat and craven for that, but by his word." He turned to Wyman Manderly, who I do not think would do this. "Do you deny it?"