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Maester Luwin touched the chain at his throat.
“Recently, the stoneborn pirates seem to have grown increasingly bold. Could the saltworks have provoked these savages?”
Kral wore a sky-blue robe studded with sapphires and emeralds.
“Does Maester Luwin mean these savages came to steal salt?”
Luwin shrugged.
“Skagos has always been wrapped in terrible tales of cannibalism. Few captains dare trade with the stoneborn there. Winterfell imposed a sea ban on Skagos many years ago. Though the North lacks naval power to enforce a true blockade, the stoneborn rarely come to the mainland to trade, so outsiders know very little about the island. I do not know whether they lack salt.”
Smalljon Umber’s armor was stained with blood, and it looked as if he had not taken it off in many days.
He said seriously, “Old maester, the stoneborn crossed the sea by ship to steal salt? How could that be? They destroyed three of our coastal saltworks and showed no interest at all in the sea salt lying everywhere. They came to burn, kill, and carry people off.”
Ned listened quietly, anger burning hotter inside him.
He restrained himself.
Before his bannermen and family, useless rage would solve nothing.
“Did anyone take prisoners?”
The Greatjon said, “We took a few. I questioned them, but they would not talk, so I had all their heads off.”
Ned sighed.
“You were too impatient and too rash. They should have been locked away and questioned slowly.”
The Greatjon was a brave warrior, but interrogation was plainly not his strength.
Ned turned to Rickard Karstark of Karhold, a distant kinsman of House Stark of Winterfell.
“Did Karhold take any prisoners in your fighting with the stoneborn?”
According to earlier reports sent by Karhold’s maester, stoneborn pirates had not only destroyed fishing villages and saltworks along the Karstark coast, but also sailed up the Last River, killing and plundering wildly until its waters ran red.
Rickard Karstark’s face flushed with anger.
“The damned pirates fled clean away whenever they saw Karhold horsemen. We captured a few who could not reach their ships in time and locked them in Karhold’s dungeons. But those cursed savages smashed open the cell door and killed three of my guards. I led men down and slaughtered them all.”
Fortunately, Roose Bolton did not disappoint Ned.
“Lord Eddard, I took six. The damned stoneborn went raiding in the bogs near the Weeping Water and fell into the mire. That is where my favorite leeches come from. I had the six prisoners brought to my dungeons. At first, the savages spat at me and said they would rather die than accept questioning.” This chapter was taken from novelping(.)com without permission.
“Then I brought out a flayer’s little knife, a traditional craft of the Dreadfort. I gave the skin on their fingers and toes a careful trimming, beginning with the little fingers…”
Ned felt nauseous.
“Spare us the useless details.”
Roose Bolton said, “They yielded some secrets.”
Ned leaned forward.
“What secrets?”
Roose Bolton’s gaze rested on Theon Greyjoy.
“The ironborn and the stoneborn are colluding. Together, they planned the attack on the North’s eastern coast.”
For an instant, everyone in the hall looked at Theon Greyjoy: Maester Luwin, Robb, Jon Snow, Catelyn, Sansa, Bran, Arya, Winterfell’s servants, the Umbers who had come to petition, the Karstark men, the Dreadfort retainers.
All eyes fell on him.
After all, Theon was the only ironborn in the hall, and the heir to the Iron Islands besides.
Theon had been standing to the right of Ned’s throne as a guard, wearing his usual mocking expression.
The moment he heard Roose Bolton accuse the ironborn of colluding with stoneborn pirates, his smile froze.
Fury twisted his face.
“Lord Eddard, that is complete nonsense. Everyone knows the Iron Islands lie southwest of the North, while Skagos lies to the northeast. The entire northern mainland lies between them. If some ironborn pirates defied my father’s will and went raiding, they would sail straight out of Ironman’s Bay toward Cape Kraken or the Stony Shore. Why would they sail so far around to the east coast?”
“Besides, why would noble ironborn raid together with savage, lowborn stoneborn? Roose Bolton is slandering the ironborn.”
Ned raised a hand to calm him.
“Theon, do not be agitated. Lord Bolton has made an accusation. Let us hear his reasons first.”
On Ned’s other side, Domeric Bolton, heir to the Dreadfort, said, “Lord Eddard, since this concerns ironborn and stoneborn colluding to attack the North, I think Theon should withdraw first.”
The Greatjon Umber, Lord Rickard Karstark, and half the hall called for Theon to leave.
Theon glared at Domeric.
Ned clenched his hand into a fist and raised it.
The hall quieted at once. This story is hosted at g.com.
“Theon is my foster son. He has lived at Winterfell since he was ten and has not returned to the Iron Islands since. I believe that even if Balon Greyjoy planned the stoneborn attacks on the east coast, Theon had nothing to do with it. He is mine.”
Theon looked at Ned with gratitude, though he remained furious at the northerners’ attempt to drive him out.
Ned met Roose Bolton’s thin-ice eyes.
“Now tell me exactly what you learned during your questioning.”
The soft voice of the Lord of the Dreadfort echoed through Winterfell’s hall, and every person present listened closely.
“A stoneborn of the Crowl clan confessed under Dreadfort torture. He said Samro, chief of the Crowl clan, unified the nine great tribes of Skagos through force and cunning. The smaller tribes submitted one after another. Samro’s weapons and armor were all provided by the ironborn.”
Theon snorted.
“How can we trust the words of a stoneborn prisoner?”
Roose Bolton said, “His confession was confirmed by the other prisoners.”
Rickard Karstark said, “Lord Eddard, fishermen in my lands who survived the stoneborn slaughter said the ships the stoneborn used looked much like ironborn longships.”
The Greatjon nodded.
“Aye. At first, fishermen on my coast said the same. They all thought ironborn raiders had come. None expected stoneborn.”
Roose Bolton held out a hand, and a servant immediately presented an axe.
Another servant offered a broken piece of plate.
“Lord Eddard, the stoneborn sailed ironborn longships, used ironborn-forged weapons, and wore ironborn armor. Our weapons master at the Dreadfort judged this to be ironborn work. If you do not believe it, have your own Winterfell smith inspect it.”
Ned beckoned, and Mikken, Winterfell’s smith, came forward at once.
Mikken ran his fingers along the keen edge of the axe, then examined the broken plate.
“From the color of the axe, the material, and the forging work, this is indeed ironborn craft.”
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