Chapter 156: Blood of Kings
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Chapter 156: Blood of Kings
POV Lady Barbrey
In the Bite, Sisterton Town, a disused manor belonging to House Borell.
Two months before the Never Winter Bank was opened...
"No means 'No', Lady Barbrey...
Understand us, my lady, the Company of the Rose appreciates and welcomes demonstrations of friendship from House Dustin, Tallhart, and every other household in the North. We desire no friction with our kinsmen and brother First Men. Nevertheless, we will no longer fight for the North...
We can, at best, guarantee a 'partial' collaboration with the Never Winter Bank. We will accept any protection assignments and punitive expeditions to safeguard and secure trade between the North and IB." Promulgated Commander Cregan with nods of approval from his Vice-Commander and the two Captains.
"... Could I at least know the 'Why' of this refusal, my lords?
The North has already reached a consolidated agreement with the Ibbenese Council.
IB and New IB will not be without protection, and House Stark is ready to welcome back every drop of its blood and its people at any time.
All officers up to the rank of Vice-Captain will have fertile lands and manors of their own. In addition, every family of every Company member will be guaranteed a home and a subsidiary allowance, in addition to dozens of other benefits already listed many times over...
So, Commander... Why not?" Barbrey asked with polite disappointment.
Vice-Commander Dikard replied after a series of surrendered glances with the Commander.
"It's not just a matter of benefits and sincerity of reconciliation, my lady...
Both myself and Commander Cregan, and hundreds... perhaps thousands of our fellow soldiers share a few drops of Willem and Beris Stark blood."
"A well-known fact, Vice-Commander..." Barbrey spurred him on.
"Well known, of course... But only the highest ranking figures in the Company are aware of the 'Pledge of Willem and Beris'. A promise tied to a Blood Oath...
A sort of 'Curse', if we can call it that." Dikard.
"A curse? ...Do you by any chance allude to the matter of the Northern Crown?" Barbrey.
"Precisely, my lady... It is not just a past rumour, or a burden of honour and pride passed down.
Beris and Willem Stark swore an oath to the King-Who-Bent-the-Knee, and in the presence of the Old Gods, that never again would the branch of their lineage set foot in the North nor fight for a First Man without a Crown. An oath sealed not just by vain words but by magic... Ancient Magic.
The first to experience the consequences of this broken oath was Beris' second son, Elmud Stark... Decades later, many others attempted to return to their homeland.
I will not go into details and harbour sailor tales, Lady Barbrey. Suffice it to say that none of those poor devils survived long enough to leave White Arbor intact and that the entire direct descendant branch of the transgressors withered away in disease and grisly doom at the same time..." Barbrey did not fail to notice the sceptical and confused looks of the two captains on either side of the Commander and his Vice. As if the Vice-Commander had told a cheap fib.
But then Cregan Winter also spoke just as firmly in support of Dikard.
"The members of the Rose Company already risk a great deal in fulfilling the agreements offered to them, my lady.
We do not know precisely what might happen if we shed blood for a House or Northern institution loyal to House Stark... Therefore, for the sake of my brethren and their families, this is and will remain our final offer."
"... What you are telling me is true?
Is this the only obstacle between the Never Winter Bank and the Company of the Rose?" Barbrey asked with a slight tone of scepticism.
Neither she, Bloody Snow, nor The Spider Queen knew anything about this curse...
The scepticism was more than legitimate to her ears.
Cregan Winter disapproved at the subtle accusation she had just made.
"Forgive me. It was not my intention to offend your honour..."
"But?" Cregan.
"But... I have access to an extensive network of spies and 'powerful friends' who are adept at gathering information. I have spent much money, time and favours to prepare for this meeting adequately... for example:
Vice-Commander Dikard, I know you have two beautiful, healthy children aged eight and five, but your eldest son, Eggard, is not really your son." Dikard paled, freezing on the spot. Cregan maintained an unreadable stone face, but the captains did not. The two trusted comrades did not seem aware of such a secret...
"You took the fatherless babe in swaddling clothes under your care, passing him off as your own immediately after the tragic death of your friend-companion Willem. A most thoughtful gesture, my lord...
Captain Shag, I'm afraid Lieutenant Hammot's post-battle trauma has not yet been overcome.
Your younger brother's drinking and gambling problems are still out of control, and his debts have grown out of all proportion in the last three years... Might I suggest you pay particular attention to the little gang called the Six Rings? Those despicable slum loan sharks have a bad reputation in the southeastern district of New Ibbis.
One word, my lord, I could pay off that debt in no time or perpetually weed out some weeds from IB Nor, if you prefer..." Captain Shag was unable to blink or close his mouth...
"Commander, Cregan... A genuinely exemplary past, my lord. Hardly any vices, no weaknesses and no particular attachments... If not one.
You owe much to that old Ibbenese armourer from the mountain of Balish, do you not? I am pleased to inform you that his grandaughter Berina's bronchitis is almost completely cured. Merit to the dedication and hard work of those competent and exacting eight healers and herbalists you hired from every corner of IB and IB Sar..." Cregan's immovable face cracked for the first time after four hours of heated negotiation. This chapter is updated by nov(e)(l)biin.com
The Commander seemed to want to react somehow, but Barbrey did not give him time, moving on to her latest favourite victim.
"Many of our ancestors believed that Beris and Willem chose to seal their oath with magic to suppress their desire to return home sooner than they should have... A choice similar to the one Nymeria made seven centuries earlier when she ordered ships to be burned after finding new land for her people.
Winterfell is not just a pile of stone and wood, Lady Barbrey. Many ancient manors of the First Men were forged from mortar, stone and magic. And Winterfell has a profound connection to the dynasty of the Kings of Winter. The very name of the Household has an Ancient Power dormant within...A power different but equally as fearsome as magic." Cregan was anticipated.
"During the Age of Dawn, the world was inhabited by the Sons of the Gods, magical beings capable of sprouting forests, raising mountains from the earth, plaguing sunlight and stars, and dominating seas. The earth was bathed in the sap of the Divine Blood. A true Golden Age of Magic... Then came the Long Night, and the magic began to abandon the lands of the Gods... Many magical peoples fell generation after generation.
Of the many peoples who tried to resist the world's greatest calamity, those who fought with the most valour and heroism were the descendants of the First Man... Individuals not blessed with the gifts of the Gods. Multitudes of weak, semi-magical beings settled their differences and united under deserving leaders, fighting side by side as one against the common enemy.
The actions of those individuals ignited the spark of the period that is now remembered as the Age of Heroes...
Legend has it that the Three Chosen Guardians of the inheritance of the Great Gods Progenitors rewarded the deserving Heroic races, Not-Blessed-By-Divine Blood, blessing them with a different power...Something that could be passed down generation after generation for eternity through blood and guarded by a Name...{The Dynasty of Kings.}" Barbrey explained, eliciting an almost imperceptible semblance of awe and respect from Cregan Winter's stone gaze.
"I see you are well-informed, my lady... Yes, the North is sprinkled with the Blood of the Kings of our forefathers, and, like a perpetual, unquenchable beacon on the horizon, the homeland will always attempt to call forth its own blood. Sooner or later, a Stark of Winterfell will feel the pressing need to return to his home... That is one of the reasons my Great-Grand-Father chose to replace his name with Winter." Cregan.
"I understand, my lord. But who aided your ancestors in this blood ritual? And why allow only two descendants to know the truth behind it?" Barbrey.
"... We do not know precisely why. My predecessor believed that there were truths that could not be divulged... Personally, I believe that Beris and Willem did not want the enemies of their Household to think that the First Men had been weakened by such a split... At the time, thousands of families from all over the North chose to follow the rebellious Starks to Essos. Had supposedly adverse forces to the First Men known that those swords could never return to aid House Stark, perhaps the North would have suffered...
As for the Sorcerer who sealed the ritual, we do not know his name. All we know is that he was an Ancient and Mighty Priest of the Old Gods and that the pact was sealed at the time on the Isle of a Thousand Faces." Cregan concluded.
Barbrey's eyes widened with visible irritation... Once again, she felt deeply mocked.
The woman, who had been tricked repeatedly by the same diabolical individual in recent years, pinched her nose, asking her eyes and sighing.
'No... Think clearly, Barbrey. This is simply a mere coincidence... He couldn't have known... No one could!' after trying unsuccessfully to calm her thoughts, Barbrey blurted out laughing:
"Tsz... Pff... Mh, Mh, Mh... Damn you, boy."
"My Lady... ? Who are you talking about? What boy?" Dikard asked, confused.
"Oh, no one, Vice Commander... I was just reminded of a scene passed a few moons ago...
So, If I understand correctly, everything I have previously offered you would be futile until, in the eyes of the Old Gods, a Stark sits once more upon the Northern Throne. Am I right?" The two commanders-in-chief scrutinised each other briefly as they tried to interpret the strange tone and look given by the Widow of Barrowton.
"Correct, my lady." Vice-Commander Dikard replied.
"Mh! Mh! Mh!... Ahah... Ahahaha!" The three men, for a moment, did not know how to react to that bizarre and unexpected outburst of hilarity.
After a few seconds, Cregan was on the verge of getting up and truncating once and for all that inappropriate guffawing farce.
"Oh, forgive my manners, my lords...
It's just that we could have saved time, misunderstandings and energy if only we had started the negotiations from this 'important detail'.
I also have one last offer to make to you..." Barbrey resumed his usual severe and respectful look, and the officers of the Rose Company chose to take the bait one last time.
"... You have our attention, my lady," said the Commander in a still wary and cold tone. The man probably still wasn't sure if Barbrey was teasing them...
'Oh, the proposal will come very soon, Commander. You have my word. Nevertheless, I must ask you, gallant gendarmes, to postpone this meeting." Barbrey rose, and Dikard sprang to his feet, warning, "Wait, my lady! If you turn away from us now-" the man anticipated. "Fear not, my lords... I doubt I shall forget this pleasant conversation."
"You will, my lady. The fact that you do not heed our warnings alone proves your lack of seriousness towards our words!" Roared Cregan, rising in turn.
Barbrey scrutinised the two men for a moment and, bowing her head in apology, said:
"It was not my intention to make you allude to that, Commander... I have only faith in my convictions." Barbrey turned back to the one man still too incredulous to speak. "Captain Shag." The man awoke from his thoughts. "Y-yes, my lady?"
"I need your cooperation for a small demonstration test, my lord... Could you please move more than three paces away from your superiors? By at least five paces to be on the safer side." Barbrey asked.
After a few moments of uncertainty and an approving nod from Cregan, the man nodded as he stood up.
One step... two... three... four... and then came the fifth.
"Do you remember anything about magical pacts and curses, Captain?" Barbrey asked with a friendly smile.
"I... I remember, my lady... The curse of Beris and Willem Stark, the power of the Dynasty of Kings... I remember everything." Cregan Stark's impassive face crumbled after a visible shock.
"...This is not possible!" thundered Dikard, equally shocked.
"And yet it is, Vice Commander...
My lords, it has been a long night. With your permission, I here take my leave for the night. If it is not a problem for you to wait, I would postpone this profitable interview until the day after tomorrow.
Just enough time to send and receive a few ravens..." Barbrey's footsteps echoed in the room, and immediately past the boundary distance from the two commanders, the woman turned, concluding with:
"I require the approval of a Council and a King."
******
End Chapter.
----------------------
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Chapter 156: Blood of Kings
POV Lady Barbrey
In the Bite, Sisterton Town, a disused manor belonging to House Borell.
Two months before the Never Winter Bank was opened...
"No means 'No', Lady Barbrey...
Understand us, my lady, the Company of the Rose appreciates and welcomes demonstrations of friendship from House Dustin, Tallhart, and every other household in the North. We desire no friction with our kinsmen and brother First Men. Nevertheless, we will no longer fight for the North...
We can, at best, guarantee a 'partial' collaboration with the Never Winter Bank. We will accept any protection assignments and punitive expeditions to safeguard and secure trade between the North and IB." Promulgated Commander Cregan with nods of approval from his Vice-Commander and the two Captains.
"... Could I at least know the 'Why' of this refusal, my lords?
The North has already reached a consolidated agreement with the Ibbenese Council.
IB and New IB will not be without protection, and House Stark is ready to welcome back every drop of its blood and its people at any time.
All officers up to the rank of Vice-Captain will have fertile lands and manors of their own. In addition, every family of every Company member will be guaranteed a home and a subsidiary allowance, in addition to dozens of other benefits already listed many times over...
So, Commander... Why not?" Barbrey asked with polite disappointment.
Vice-Commander Dikard replied after a series of surrendered glances with the Commander.
"It's not just a matter of benefits and sincerity of reconciliation, my lady...
Both myself and Commander Cregan, and hundreds... perhaps thousands of our fellow soldiers share a few drops of Willem and Beris Stark blood."
"A well-known fact, Vice-Commander..." Barbrey spurred him on.
"Well known, of course... But only the highest ranking figures in the Company are aware of the 'Pledge of Willem and Beris'. A promise tied to a Blood Oath...
A sort of 'Curse', if we can call it that." Dikard.
"A curse? ...Do you by any chance allude to the matter of the Northern Crown?" Barbrey.
"Precisely, my lady... It is not just a past rumour, or a burden of honour and pride passed down.
Beris and Willem Stark swore an oath to the King-Who-Bent-the-Knee, and in the presence of the Old Gods, that never again would the branch of their lineage set foot in the North nor fight for a First Man without a Crown. An oath sealed not just by vain words but by magic... Ancient Magic.
The first to experience the consequences of this broken oath was Beris' second son, Elmud Stark... Decades later, many others attempted to return to their homeland.
I will not go into details and harbour sailor tales, Lady Barbrey. Suffice it to say that none of those poor devils survived long enough to leave White Arbor intact and that the entire direct descendant branch of the transgressors withered away in disease and grisly doom at the same time..." Barbrey did not fail to notice the sceptical and confused looks of the two captains on either side of the Commander and his Vice. As if the Vice-Commander had told a cheap fib.
But then Cregan Winter also spoke just as firmly in support of Dikard.
"The members of the Rose Company already risk a great deal in fulfilling the agreements offered to them, my lady.
We do not know precisely what might happen if we shed blood for a House or Northern institution loyal to House Stark... Therefore, for the sake of my brethren and their families, this is and will remain our final offer."
"... What you are telling me is true?
Is this the only obstacle between the Never Winter Bank and the Company of the Rose?" Barbrey asked with a slight tone of scepticism.
Neither she, Bloody Snow, nor The Spider Queen knew anything about this curse...
The scepticism was more than legitimate to her ears.
Cregan Winter disapproved at the subtle accusation she had just made.
"Forgive me. It was not my intention to offend your honour..."
"But?" Cregan.
"But... I have access to an extensive network of spies and 'powerful friends' who are adept at gathering information. I have spent much money, time and favours to prepare for this meeting adequately... for example:
Vice-Commander Dikard, I know you have two beautiful, healthy children aged eight and five, but your eldest son, Eggard, is not really your son." Dikard paled, freezing on the spot. Cregan maintained an unreadable stone face, but the captains did not. The two trusted comrades did not seem aware of such a secret...
"You took the fatherless babe in swaddling clothes under your care, passing him off as your own immediately after the tragic death of your friend-companion Willem. A most thoughtful gesture, my lord...
Captain Shag, I'm afraid Lieutenant Hammot's post-battle trauma has not yet been overcome.
Your younger brother's drinking and gambling problems are still out of control, and his debts have grown out of all proportion in the last three years... Might I suggest you pay particular attention to the little gang called the Six Rings? Those despicable slum loan sharks have a bad reputation in the southeastern district of New Ibbis.
One word, my lord, I could pay off that debt in no time or perpetually weed out some weeds from IB Nor, if you prefer..." Captain Shag was unable to blink or close his mouth...
"Commander, Cregan... A genuinely exemplary past, my lord. Hardly any vices, no weaknesses and no particular attachments... If not one.
You owe much to that old Ibbenese armourer from the mountain of Balish, do you not? I am pleased to inform you that his grandaughter Berina's bronchitis is almost completely cured. Merit to the dedication and hard work of those competent and exacting eight healers and herbalists you hired from every corner of IB and IB Sar..." Cregan's immovable face cracked for the first time after four hours of heated negotiation. This chapter is updated by nov(e)(l)biin.com
The Commander seemed to want to react somehow, but Barbrey did not give him time, moving on to her latest favourite victim.
"Many of our ancestors believed that Beris and Willem chose to seal their oath with magic to suppress their desire to return home sooner than they should have... A choice similar to the one Nymeria made seven centuries earlier when she ordered ships to be burned after finding new land for her people.
Winterfell is not just a pile of stone and wood, Lady Barbrey. Many ancient manors of the First Men were forged from mortar, stone and magic. And Winterfell has a profound connection to the dynasty of the Kings of Winter. The very name of the Household has an Ancient Power dormant within...A power different but equally as fearsome as magic." Cregan was anticipated.
"During the Age of Dawn, the world was inhabited by the Sons of the Gods, magical beings capable of sprouting forests, raising mountains from the earth, plaguing sunlight and stars, and dominating seas. The earth was bathed in the sap of the Divine Blood. A true Golden Age of Magic... Then came the Long Night, and the magic began to abandon the lands of the Gods... Many magical peoples fell generation after generation.
Of the many peoples who tried to resist the world's greatest calamity, those who fought with the most valour and heroism were the descendants of the First Man... Individuals not blessed with the gifts of the Gods. Multitudes of weak, semi-magical beings settled their differences and united under deserving leaders, fighting side by side as one against the common enemy.
The actions of those individuals ignited the spark of the period that is now remembered as the Age of Heroes...
Legend has it that the Three Chosen Guardians of the inheritance of the Great Gods Progenitors rewarded the deserving Heroic races, Not-Blessed-By-Divine Blood, blessing them with a different power...Something that could be passed down generation after generation for eternity through blood and guarded by a Name...{The Dynasty of Kings.}" Barbrey explained, eliciting an almost imperceptible semblance of awe and respect from Cregan Winter's stone gaze.
"I see you are well-informed, my lady... Yes, the North is sprinkled with the Blood of the Kings of our forefathers, and, like a perpetual, unquenchable beacon on the horizon, the homeland will always attempt to call forth its own blood. Sooner or later, a Stark of Winterfell will feel the pressing need to return to his home... That is one of the reasons my Great-Grand-Father chose to replace his name with Winter." Cregan.
"I understand, my lord. But who aided your ancestors in this blood ritual? And why allow only two descendants to know the truth behind it?" Barbrey.
"... We do not know precisely why. My predecessor believed that there were truths that could not be divulged... Personally, I believe that Beris and Willem did not want the enemies of their Household to think that the First Men had been weakened by such a split... At the time, thousands of families from all over the North chose to follow the rebellious Starks to Essos. Had supposedly adverse forces to the First Men known that those swords could never return to aid House Stark, perhaps the North would have suffered...
As for the Sorcerer who sealed the ritual, we do not know his name. All we know is that he was an Ancient and Mighty Priest of the Old Gods and that the pact was sealed at the time on the Isle of a Thousand Faces." Cregan concluded.
Barbrey's eyes widened with visible irritation... Once again, she felt deeply mocked.
The woman, who had been tricked repeatedly by the same diabolical individual in recent years, pinched her nose, asking her eyes and sighing.
'No... Think clearly, Barbrey. This is simply a mere coincidence... He couldn't have known... No one could!' after trying unsuccessfully to calm her thoughts, Barbrey blurted out laughing:
"Tsz... Pff... Mh, Mh, Mh... Damn you, boy."
"My Lady... ? Who are you talking about? What boy?" Dikard asked, confused.
"Oh, no one, Vice Commander... I was just reminded of a scene passed a few moons ago...
So, If I understand correctly, everything I have previously offered you would be futile until, in the eyes of the Old Gods, a Stark sits once more upon the Northern Throne. Am I right?" The two commanders-in-chief scrutinised each other briefly as they tried to interpret the strange tone and look given by the Widow of Barrowton.
"Correct, my lady." Vice-Commander Dikard replied.
"Mh! Mh! Mh!... Ahah... Ahahaha!" The three men, for a moment, did not know how to react to that bizarre and unexpected outburst of hilarity.
After a few seconds, Cregan was on the verge of getting up and truncating once and for all that inappropriate guffawing farce.
"Oh, forgive my manners, my lords...
It's just that we could have saved time, misunderstandings and energy if only we had started the negotiations from this 'important detail'.
I also have one last offer to make to you..." Barbrey resumed his usual severe and respectful look, and the officers of the Rose Company chose to take the bait one last time.
"... You have our attention, my lady," said the Commander in a still wary and cold tone. The man probably still wasn't sure if Barbrey was teasing them...
'Oh, the proposal will come very soon, Commander. You have my word. Nevertheless, I must ask you, gallant gendarmes, to postpone this meeting." Barbrey rose, and Dikard sprang to his feet, warning, "Wait, my lady! If you turn away from us now-" the man anticipated. "Fear not, my lords... I doubt I shall forget this pleasant conversation."
"You will, my lady. The fact that you do not heed our warnings alone proves your lack of seriousness towards our words!" Roared Cregan, rising in turn.
Barbrey scrutinised the two men for a moment and, bowing her head in apology, said:
"It was not my intention to make you allude to that, Commander... I have only faith in my convictions." Barbrey turned back to the one man still too incredulous to speak. "Captain Shag." The man awoke from his thoughts. "Y-yes, my lady?"
"I need your cooperation for a small demonstration test, my lord... Could you please move more than three paces away from your superiors? By at least five paces to be on the safer side." Barbrey asked.
After a few moments of uncertainty and an approving nod from Cregan, the man nodded as he stood up.
One step... two... three... four... and then came the fifth.
"Do you remember anything about magical pacts and curses, Captain?" Barbrey asked with a friendly smile.
"I... I remember, my lady... The curse of Beris and Willem Stark, the power of the Dynasty of Kings... I remember everything." Cregan Stark's impassive face crumbled after a visible shock.
"...This is not possible!" thundered Dikard, equally shocked.
"And yet it is, Vice Commander...
My lords, it has been a long night. With your permission, I here take my leave for the night. If it is not a problem for you to wait, I would postpone this profitable interview until the day after tomorrow.
Just enough time to send and receive a few ravens..." Barbrey's footsteps echoed in the room, and immediately past the boundary distance from the two commanders, the woman turned, concluding with:
"I require the approval of a Council and a King."
******
End Chapter.
----------------------
Chapter 156: Blood of KingsPOV Lady Barbrey In the Bite, Sisterton Town, a disused manor belonging to House Borell. Two months before the Never Winter Bank was opened... "No means 'No', Lady Barbrey... Understand us, my lady, the Company of the Rose appreciates and welcomes demonstrations of friendship from House Dustin, Tallhart, and every other household in the North. We desire no friction with our kinsmen and brother First Men. Nevertheless, we will no longer fight for the North... We can, at best, guarantee a 'partial' collaboration with the Never Winter Bank. We will accept any protection assignments and punitive expeditions to safeguard and secure trade between the North and IB." Promulgated Commander Cregan with nods of approval from his Vice-Commander and the two Captains. "... Could I at least know the 'Why' of this refusal, my lords? The North has already reached a consolidated agreement with the Ibbenese Council. IB and New IB will not be without protection, and House Stark is ready to welcome back every drop of its blood and its people at any time. All officers up to the rank of Vice-Captain will have fertile lands and manors of their own. In addition, every family of every Company member will be guaranteed a home and a subsidiary allowance, in addition to dozens of other benefits already listed many times over... So, Commander... Why not?" Barbrey asked with polite disappointment. Vice-Commander Dikard replied after a series of surrendered glances with the Commander. "It's not just a matter of benefits and sincerity of reconciliation, my lady... Both myself and Commander Cregan, and hundreds... perhaps thousands of our fellow soldiers share a few drops of Willem and Beris Stark blood." "A well-known fact, Vice-Commander..." Barbrey spurred him on. "Well known, of course... But only the highest ranking figures in the Company are aware of the 'Pledge of Willem and Beris'. A promise tied to a Blood Oath... A sort of 'Curse', if we can call it that." Dikard. "A curse? ...Do you by any chance allude to the matter of the Northern Crown?" Barbrey. "Precisely, my lady... It is not just a past rumour, or a burden of honour and pride passed down. Beris and Willem Stark swore an oath to the King-Who-Bent-the-Knee, and in the presence of the Old Gods, that never again would the branch of their lineage set foot in the North nor fight for a First Man without a Crown. An oath sealed not just by vain words but by magic... Ancient Magic. The first to experience the consequences of this broken oath was Beris' second son, Elmud Stark... Decades later, many others attempted to return to their homeland. I will not go into details and harbour sailor tales, Lady Barbrey. Suffice it to say that none of those poor devils survived long enough to leave White Arbor intact and that the entire direct descendant branch of the transgressors withered away in disease and grisly doom at the same time..." Barbrey did not fail to notice the sceptical and confused looks of the two captains on either side of the Commander and his Vice. As if the Vice-Commander had told a cheap fib. But then Cregan Winter also spoke just as firmly in support of Dikard. "The members of the Rose Company already risk a great deal in fulfilling the agreements offered to them, my lady. We do not know precisely what might happen if we shed blood for a House or Northern institution loyal to House Stark... Therefore, for the sake of my brethren and their families, this is and will remain our final offer." "... What you are telling me is true? Is this the only obstacle between the Never Winter Bank and the Company of the Rose?" Barbrey asked with a slight tone of scepticism. Neither she, Bloody Snow, nor The Spider Queen knew anything about this curse... The scepticism was more than legitimate to her ears. Cregan Winter disapproved at the subtle accusation she had just made. "Forgive me. It was not my intention to offend your honour..." "But?" Cregan. "But... I have access to an extensive network of spies and 'powerful friends' who are adept at gathering information. I have spent much money, time and favours to prepare for this meeting adequately... for example: Vice-Commander Dikard, I know you have two beautiful, healthy children aged eight and five, but your eldest son, Eggard, is not really your son." Dikard paled, freezing on the spot. Cregan maintained an unreadable stone face, but the captains did not. The two trusted comrades did not seem aware of such a secret... "You took the fatherless babe in swaddling clothes under your care, passing him off as your own immediately after the tragic death of your friend-companion Willem. A most thoughtful gesture, my lord... Captain Shag, I'm afraid Lieutenant Hammot's post-battle trauma has not yet been overcome. Your younger brother's drinking and gambling problems are still out of control, and his debts have grown out of all proportion in the last three years... Might I suggest you pay particular attention to the little gang called the Six Rings? Those despicable slum loan sharks have a bad reputation in the southeastern district of New Ibbis. One word, my lord, I could pay off that debt in no time or perpetually weed out some weeds from IB Nor, if you prefer..." Captain Shag was unable to blink or close his mouth... "Commander, Cregan... A genuinely exemplary past, my lord. Hardly any vices, no weaknesses and no particular attachments... If not one. You owe much to that old Ibbenese armourer from the mountain of Balish, do you not? I am pleased to inform you that his grandaughter Berina's bronchitis is almost completely cured. Merit to the dedication and hard work of those competent and exacting eight healers and herbalists you hired from every corner of IB and IB Sar..." Cregan's immovable face cracked for the first time after four hours of heated negotiation. This chapter is updated by novelbiin.comThe Commander seemed to want to react somehow, but Barbrey did not give him time, moving on to her latest favourite victim. "Many of our ancestors believed that Beris and Willem chose to seal their oath with magic to suppress their desire to return home sooner than they should have... A choice similar to the one Nymeria made seven centuries earlier when she ordered ships to be burned after finding new land for her people. Winterfell is not just a pile of stone and wood, Lady Barbrey. Many ancient manors of the First Men were forged from mortar, stone and magic. And Winterfell has a profound connection to the dynasty of the Kings of Winter. The very name of the Household has an Ancient Power dormant within...A power different but equally as fearsome as magic." Cregan was anticipated. "During the Age of Dawn, the world was inhabited by the Sons of the Gods, magical beings capable of sprouting forests, raising mountains from the earth, plaguing sunlight and stars, and dominating seas. The earth was bathed in the sap of the Divine Blood. A true Golden Age of Magic... Then came the Long Night, and the magic began to abandon the lands of the Gods... Many magical peoples fell generation after generation. Of the many peoples who tried to resist the world's greatest calamity, those who fought with the most valour and heroism were the descendants of the First Man... Individuals not blessed with the gifts of the Gods. Multitudes of weak, semi-magical beings settled their differences and united under deserving leaders, fighting side by side as one against the common enemy. The actions of those individuals ignited the spark of the period that is now remembered as the Age of Heroes... Legend has it that the Three Chosen Guardians of the inheritance of the Great Gods Progenitors rewarded the deserving Heroic races, Not-Blessed-By-Divine Blood, blessing them with a different power...Something that could be passed down generation after generation for eternity through blood and guarded by a Name...{The Dynasty of Kings.}" Barbrey explained, eliciting an almost imperceptible semblance of awe and respect from Cregan Winter's stone gaze. "I see you are well-informed, my lady... Yes, the North is sprinkled with the Blood of the Kings of our forefathers, and, like a perpetual, unquenchable beacon on the horizon, the homeland will always attempt to call forth its own blood. Sooner or later, a Stark of Winterfell will feel the pressing need to return to his home... That is one of the reasons my Great-Grand-Father chose to replace his name with Winter." Cregan. "I understand, my lord. But who aided your ancestors in this blood ritual? And why allow only two descendants to know the truth behind it?" Barbrey. "... We do not know precisely why. My predecessor believed that there were truths that could not be divulged... Personally, I believe that Beris and Willem did not want the enemies of their Household to think that the First Men had been weakened by such a split... At the time, thousands of families from all over the North chose to follow the rebellious Starks to Essos. Had supposedly adverse forces to the First Men known that those swords could never return to aid House Stark, perhaps the North would have suffered... As for the Sorcerer who sealed the ritual, we do not know his name. All we know is that he was an Ancient and Mighty Priest of the Old Gods and that the pact was sealed at the time on the Isle of a Thousand Faces." Cregan concluded. Barbrey's eyes widened with visible irritation... Once again, she felt deeply mocked. The woman, who had been tricked repeatedly by the same diabolical individual in recent years, pinched her nose, asking her eyes and sighing. 'No... Think clearly, Barbrey. This is simply a mere coincidence... He couldn't have known... No one could!' after trying unsuccessfully to calm her thoughts, Barbrey blurted out laughing: "Tsz... Pff... Mh, Mh, Mh... Damn you, boy." "My Lady... ? Who are you talking about? What boy?" Dikard asked, confused. "Oh, no one, Vice Commander... I was just reminded of a scene passed a few moons ago... So, If I understand correctly, everything I have previously offered you would be futile until, in the eyes of the Old Gods, a Stark sits once more upon the Northern Throne. Am I right?" The two commanders-in-chief scrutinised each other briefly as they tried to interpret the strange tone and look given by the Widow of Barrowton. "Correct, my lady." Vice-Commander Dikard replied. "Mh! Mh! Mh!... Ahah... Ahahaha!" The three men, for a moment, did not know how to react to that bizarre and unexpected outburst of hilarity. After a few seconds, Cregan was on the verge of getting up and truncating once and for all that inappropriate guffawing farce. "Oh, forgive my manners, my lords... It's just that we could have saved time, misunderstandings and energy if only we had started the negotiations from this 'important detail'. I also have one last offer to make to you..." Barbrey resumed his usual severe and respectful look, and the officers of the Rose Company chose to take the bait one last time. "... You have our attention, my lady," said the Commander in a still wary and cold tone. The man probably still wasn't sure if Barbrey was teasing them... 'Oh, the proposal will come very soon, Commander. You have my word. Nevertheless, I must ask you, gallant gendarmes, to postpone this meeting." Barbrey rose, and Dikard sprang to his feet, warning, "Wait, my lady! If you turn away from us now-" the man anticipated. "Fear not, my lords... I doubt I shall forget this pleasant conversation." "You will, my lady. The fact that you do not heed our warnings alone proves your lack of seriousness towards our words!" Roared Cregan, rising in turn. Barbrey scrutinised the two men for a moment and, bowing her head in apology, said: "It was not my intention to make you allude to that, Commander... I have only faith in my convictions." Barbrey turned back to the one man still too incredulous to speak. "Captain Shag." The man awoke from his thoughts. "Y-yes, my lady?" "I need your cooperation for a small demonstration test, my lord... Could you please move more than three paces away from your superiors? By at least five paces to be on the safer side." Barbrey asked. After a few moments of uncertainty and an approving nod from Cregan, the man nodded as he stood up. One step... two... three... four... and then came the fifth. "Do you remember anything about magical pacts and curses, Captain?" Barbrey asked with a friendly smile. "I... I remember, my lady... The curse of Beris and Willem Stark, the power of the Dynasty of Kings... I remember everything." Cregan Stark's impassive face crumbled after a visible shock. "...This is not possible!" thundered Dikard, equally shocked. "And yet it is, Vice Commander... My lords, it has been a long night. With your permission, I here take my leave for the night. If it is not a problem for you to wait, I would postpone this profitable interview until the day after tomorrow. Just enough time to send and receive a few ravens..." Barbrey's footsteps echoed in the room, and immediately past the boundary distance from the two commanders, the woman turned, concluding with: "I require the approval of a Council and a King." ****** End Chapter. ----------------------
