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Lord Wyman Manderly had been heaving his huge body upward, trying to rise and leave.
The moment he heard Ned call him, he sat back down.
“Lord Eddard, what are your commands?”
By then the other nobles had gone.
Only Ned and Lord Wyman remained in the hall.
“Lord Wyman, you are the Lord of White Harbor. Every day, White Harbor deals with ships and sailors from all over the world. Among my bannermen, you understand ships best.”
Ever since Brandon the Burner, House Stark had shown little interest in sailing.
Hearing Ned ask about ships now, Lord Wyman looked surprised.
“Lord Eddard, do you wish to build a ship?”
“No. I wish to build a fleet.”
Lord Wyman rubbed his great chin.
“A fleet? Lord Eddard, that will cost a mountain of coin.”
Ned folded his hands.
“Which shipyards produce the best ships?”
Lord Wyman thought for a moment.
“Braavos. Their shipyards can build a galley in a day. Of course, the Arbor and King’s Landing have fine yards as well. And do not forget the Iron Islands. An ironborn longship can stand against almost any warship. Wherever you buy, ships are expensive.”
Ned said, “That is why I intend to build them myself. We will build ships, raise a fleet, and create a northern navy. The Wolfswood has no shortage of timber. What we lack are shipwrights.”
Most northern smallfolk were descendants of the First Men.
The First Men had not been sailors.
When they came to Westeros, they crossed by the Arm of Dorne.
On land, they were fierce warriors.
At sea, they were nothing of the sort.
The North had a long coastline, and Ned needed a strong navy to guard his home and protect his people.
If Robert or Jon Arryn ran into trouble in the south, and the North had a fleet at White Harbor, Ned could send two forces.
One army could march down the kingsroad, while a naval force sailed from White Harbor through the Bite, down the narrow sea, and straight toward King’s Landing.
The plan excited Lord Wyman.
“Lord Eddard, House Manderly’s sigil is a merman with a trident. Who understands the sea better than a merman? Leave the shipbuilding to me. White Harbor sees ships from across the narrow sea every day. I can help you find excellent shipwrights.”
After Lord Wyman left, Robb hurried into the hall.
“Father, Theon is angry. Please go see him. He is in the godswood.”
It had been a cruel day for Theon.
During the council, he had watched northern nobles discuss how to deal with the ironborn.
Some had even said he should be killed as a warning to Balon Greyjoy.
In the godswood, Theon stood with Domeric Bolton.
In just a short time, the heir to the Dreadfort seemed to have made a friend of the heir to the Iron Islands.
Domeric was quietly comforting him.
Domeric knelt to Ned, then left.
Only Ned and Theon remained beneath the trees.
Ned looked at the pale weirwood.
The red eyes carved into its face seemed to weep blood as they watched the two of them.
“You came to the godswood seeking comfort from the old gods.”
Theon gave a soft snort.
“Lord Eddard, this strange tree is not my god. It never was. Just as those northern lords said in your council, I am a damned ironborn. I am not a northman. But here I cannot hear the sea or smell the salt. The Drowned God has no power in this place. Where else am I supposed to go? The Seven are strangers to me, and in the sept, Septa Mordane and Septon Chayle only drone on and on.”
Only then did Ned notice the blood on the weirwood.
Theon’s fingers were bloody.
“You struck the weirwood with your fists? You are hurt. Go find Maester Luwin.”
Ned reached for Theon’s hand, but Theon pulled it away.
“Lord Eddard, I am sorry for raising my fists against the old gods. Will those northern lords execute me for that as well?”
Ned sighed.
“Theon, I am sorry for what happened in the council. Before it began, I deliberately sent you to Jory. I assigned you to help the guards keep order in Winter Town because I feared you would hear ugly words. I did not expect you to return.”
Theon said with contempt, “I am glad I did. Now I know how false and bloody-minded those noble lords can be.”
Ned said, “Theon, you cannot blame all of them. Their people have suffered ironborn slaughter. They have wrongly turned their anger toward you. Words are wind. Lords wear public masks in council, especially when so many of them sit together.”
“Those nobles scheme against one another. Some have feuds that go back generations. Some despise one another. Some use one another. But when they sit in that room, they all feel they must offer an opinion. Many who shouted for your death were only echoing the others, like parrots. Their words should not be treated as vows.”
Ned set a hand on Theon’s shoulder.
“That does not mean I excuse them. They discussed murdering my foster son in my own council and demanded that my foster son pay for crimes that were never his. I do not accept that. I rebuked them sharply.” Follow the newest chapters on novelping.com.
Theon looked uncertain.
“But today a rider from Barrowton mocked me. He said that as soon as my father dared anger the North or the Iron Throne, you would use Ice, House Stark’s Valyrian greatsword, to cut off my head. Foster sons are meant to guarantee a family’s loyalty. Once my father’s loyalty is questioned, I die.”
Ned answered honestly.
“When I took you in, it was indeed partly to ensure your father Balon did not rebel again. That is true. I once worried that if your father raised his banners again without regard for your life, I might not have the courage to harm an innocent child. When you first came to Winterfell, you were a hostage. Now, you are not.”
“You came to my home at ten years old. Every day you ate with my wife, my children, and my bastard son. You shared our hearth and our hall. You trained under Ser Rodrik Cassel and studied with Luwin beside my children. You know everyone in Winterfell, whether it is Hodor, Farlen, Old Nan, Gage in the kitchens, Mikken at the forge, or Hullen in the stables.”
“Theon, you grew up in Winterfell. That is fact. You are a kraken, but you are also a wolf cub. I do not know what you think, but in my heart, I have always regarded you almost as an eldest son. You are Robb’s older brother. You have taught him many things, and one day you may help me protect Bran and Rickon.”
Theon was deeply moved.
“Lord Eddard, I did not know. I thought…”
Ned said, “Robert and I were fostered with Jon Arryn. There were men in the Vale who said we were hostages as well. When the Mad King Aerys demanded that Jon Arryn hand Robert and me over, what did Jon do? He raised his banners. For two foster sons with no blood tie to him, he wagered his own fate and the fate of his house.”
Theon murmured, “Yes. That war brought down the dragon dynasty.”
Ned leaned closer.
“I will be honest with you. I have discussed shipbuilding with Lord Wyman, and I mean to build a northern fleet. Theon, you are ironborn. Who is better suited to train a navy and command ships than you? In my plans, you hold a place no one else can fill.”
A smile broke over Theon’s face.
“Lord Eddard, when I inherit the Iron Islands, House Greyjoy and the ironborn fleet will be at your command.”
Then doubt overtook him.
“I will inherit, will I not? I am my father’s only living son.”
Ned said, “What have you heard?”
Theon said, “In Winter Town, a fisherman from Sea Dragon Point said my father means for my sister Asha to inherit the Iron Islands. But the captains seem more willing to support my uncles, Euron Crow’s Eye and Victarion Greyjoy.”
Ned smiled.
“Theon, inheriting the Iron Islands is your right. If your family and the ironborn do not respect that right, I will help you win the Seastone Chair.”
“With the strength of the entire North.”
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