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Lady Barbrey had angered nearly everyone.
The mountain clan chiefs, Lady Maege, the Greatjon, and others surrounded her with accusations, while Lord Ryswell of the Rills, Roose Bolton, and her brothers hurried to speak on her behalf.
Only then did the anger around her begin to settle.
Ned noticed Domeric Bolton quietly comforting Lady Barbrey.
Domeric’s mother, Lady Bethany, had been Barbrey’s elder sister.
She had died of a fever years ago.
After her husband died, Lady Barbrey Dustin took control of House Dustin and ruled much of the Barrowlands.
House Dustin was one of the strongest noble houses in the North.
Her father was Lord Ryswell of the Rills, a land famed for fine horses and strong cavalry.
Barbrey’s brother-in-law was Roose Bolton, Lord of the Dreadfort.
The Dreadfort beneath the Lonely Hills had always been one of the North’s great powers.
Thousands of years ago, when the Starks of Winterfell were still only Kings of Winter, they fought fierce wars against the First King of the Barrowlands.
After centuries of fighting, the Kings of Winter defeated him, and the First King was forced to submit to Winterfell.
House Dustin, which now ruled Barrowton, claimed descent from the First King.
Their sigil, a rusted crown above crossed battle-axes, seemed to confirm the claim.
Even after defeating the First King, House Stark had still not crowned itself King in the North.
For a long time afterward, Winterfell faced other challengers.
The strongest were the Boltons, who had once ruled a realm of their own as the Red Kings.
In those days, the lands of the Red Kings stretched from the Last River in the north to the Sheepshead Hills in the south, east to the Narrow Sea and west into the White Knife’s watershed.
The Red Kings of House Bolton and the Kings of Winter of House Stark fought their own centuries-long song of ice and blood.
During that struggle, the Starks were sometimes at a disadvantage, and more than one Red King wore a cloak sewn from the skins of Stark men.
The balance between the Kings of Winter and the Red Kings shifted again and again, until the Andal invasion changed everything.
Andal raiders crossed the Narrow Sea in fleets and harried the coastal lands of the Red Kings.
Winterfell seized the chance to bite away at Bolton territory inland.
In the end, the Red Kings could only bend the knee, give up their crown, and become vassals of the Kings of Winter.
Only then did the Starks rise from Kings of Winter to Kings in the North.
Ned looked at Lady Barbrey and saw the smoke of all that old history in her.
The old enemies of Winterfell, the First Kings, had ruled lands that roughly matched Barbrey’s Barrowlands and the Rills of her birth house.
House Bolton’s lands had shrunk greatly since the days of the Red Kings, but they still controlled the Lonely Hills and the lands along the Weeping Water.
Their strength could not be dismissed, and theirs had always been an ambitious house.
The alliance formed by marriage between House Bolton, House Ryswell, and House Dustin was enough to make Ned wary.
Years ago, Ned and Jon Arryn had married Catelyn Tully and Lysa Tully, laying the foundation for an alliance between the North, the riverlands, the Vale, and the stormlands.
Four of the Seven Kingdoms had risen at once, overthrown the Targaryen dynasty, and helped Robert take the Iron Throne.
Ned looked at Lord Ryswell.
The man had a kindly face and a healthy flush, and he looked like a rough old soldier.
Yet there was no doubt he was a lord with a political mind.
He was the one who had married his eldest daughter, Bethany, to Roose Bolton and his second daughter, Barbrey, to Lord Willam Dustin, creating an alliance between the Dreadfort, the Rills, and Barrowton.
Bethany was dead now, but she had left Lord Ryswell a grandson, Domeric Bolton, the future heir to the Dreadfort.
The alliance among the three houses remained firm.
Noble marriages were common enough.
But this…
Was this the reason Lady Barbrey had dared bring greens and turnips as a birth gift?
Powerful vassals were always a lord’s hidden danger.
The riverlands had House Frey.
The Vale had House Royce.
The Reach was ringed around Highgarden by House Hightower of Oldtown, House Redwyne of the Arbor, and House Florent of Brightwater Keep.
A liege lord had to be strong enough to hold his vassals down.
That only strengthened Ned’s resolve to build Winterfell’s power and grow its wealth.
Benjen Stark arrived almost at the last possible moment.
With him came ten rangers in black cloaks and black armor, as well as the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, “Old Bear” Jeor Mormont.
The Old Bear was broad and powerful, much like the beast that gave him his name.
Ever since his son, Ser Jorah Mormont, had sold men into slavery and fled rather than face Ned’s judgment, Jeor Mormont had believed his son had shamed their house.
He had not come to Winterfell in years.
Benjen’s arrival delighted Ned’s children.
Arya, Jon, Robb, and Sansa crowded around their uncle.
Bran wrapped his arms around Benjen’s leg, and Benjen kissed little Rickon.
Lord Eddard and Catelyn invited the northern nobles into the great hall.
Ned sat upon his seat and accepted the oaths of his vassals.
Afterward, the lords gave their blessings to young Rickon, and the feast began in earnest.
The tables groaned beneath rich food: boar meat, lemon cakes, honeyed roast duck, and pigeon pie.
The air was thick with fragrance.
Catelyn seated the nobles of higher rank in places of honor and arranged for Lady Barbrey to sit in a corner.
She then instructed Vayon Poole to send extra turnips to Barbrey’s table.
“Let the widow choke on them, if the gods are kind.”
Domeric Bolton took up a harp and stood upon the raised platform in the hall.
He began to sing a song called “The First King’s Lover,” dedicating it to his aunt, Lady Barbrey.
Ned could not tell what Barbrey thought of it, but Sansa, Jeyne Poole, and the other girls were moved to tears.
Even Septa Mordane praised the boy’s voice as heavenly.
Next, Domeric sang “The Rills and the Steeds” for his grandfather, Lord Rodrik Ryswell, and for his uncles.
The lyrics told of warriors from the Rills riding fine horses to resist the ironborn.
Ned was surprised by the beauty and force of the original song, and more than a little curious how Roose Bolton had raised a son with such musical gifts.
At last, Domeric sang “The Conquest of the North,” telling of how the Starks, Kings of Winter, defeated the First King and the Red Kings and endured the long winters.
The lyrics were stirring and grand.
Maester Luwin praised him.
“The boy has real artistic talent. The lyrics are rooted in history as well. He is not like those singers who simply invent nonsense.”
Ser Rodrik Cassel tugged at his snow-white whiskers and snorted.
“What use is singing to a boy? A boy should know sword and spear and become a warrior.”
Lady Barbrey heard him.
“Old man, do not look down on my nephew. Domeric does not merely play and sing. He knows history, and he is skilled with lance and sword. For the past three years, he served as a squire in the Vale under Lord Redfort. Many Vale nobles believe he has the makings of a tourney champion. If you doubt it, have one of the boys you trained test himself against my nephew.”
Ser Rodrik Cassel smiled.
“Lady Barbrey, we can arrange a friendly match when there is time. Robb, Jon, and Theon are all fine lads I trained myself.”
Domeric began to sing “The Bear and the Maiden Fair,” and the hall erupted in roaring delight.
Lord Wyman, Lord Cerwyn, Robett Glover, and others stepped out to invite noble ladies, young girls, and serving women to dance.
The Greatjon leaned close to Barbrey and said something.
Lady Barbrey threw the wine in her cup into his face, and the Greatjon left laughing.
Lady Barbrey Dustin held her wine cup and swayed slightly.
She had drunk too much.
In her black gown, she looked pale and beautiful, cold as frost.
Ned could see she was forcing her smile.
“Lord Eddard, I am truly sorry. My gift has become a joke. The Greatjon was mocking me just now, saying my greens and turnips were worth less than the wine I drank. You and Lady Catelyn do not mind, I hope?”
Catelyn forced down her anger and made herself smile.
“Lady Barbrey, your presence alone is enough to please me. You have always been a rare guest at Winterfell.”
Barbrey smiled.
“I cannot help that.
Barrowton has tens of thousands of people for me to govern.
I am a busy woman.
Unlike you, Lady Catelyn.
Your life is so peaceful, almost holy, and you keep giving Lord Eddard child after child.
Even in Barrowton, I have heard of your children.
The finest child in Winterfell is…
which one was it?
Ah, yes.
Jon Snow.”
Jon Snow had always been the wound Catelyn could not bear to touch.
She lost the last of her patience and looked ready to strike like a mother wolf, but Ned stopped her.
“Lady Barbrey, you are drunk. You need rest. I will have the steward take you to a guest chamber.”
Barbrey gave him a wicked smile.
“Lord Eddard, I am not drunk. Do you see my nephew? Domeric is my pride. Your old master-at-arms said he would arrange for your son Jon Snow to test himself against Domeric. I look forward to it.”
Lady Barbrey curtsied to Catelyn and left.
Catelyn said angrily, “That widow was pretending to be drunk. She came looking for a quarrel, and she meant to insult me.”
Ned answered gently, “Catelyn, she is a pitiful woman. You have given birth to five children. What does Barbrey have? Her husband died, and she has lived as a widow ever since. She envies you. Madness born of envy deserves some forgiveness.”
That eased Catelyn’s mood somewhat.
“I know Barbrey is a grieving widow, but if she keeps pushing further and further, are we supposed to keep yielding?”
Ned looked across the crowd toward Lady Barbrey.
“Who said we would only yield? I will make Lady Barbrey understand that recklessness has a price.”
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