297 AC
"Look at her, bold as brass," one of her half-sisters muttered as she passed, probably a Walda. Walda was usually a safe bet.
"Fat cow."
"Braavosi bitch."
"Her betrothed already has a bastard, I hear. Poor girl."
Whispers and gossip followed Alyx Frey wherever she went. It was easy to be hated, as long as you always had the latest handbag, which she did.
Today, Alyx carried one of rare and wonderful design, customized just for her. One side was silver leather with a blue tower stitched into it, and the other Braavosi purple with a titan in bronze thread: two sides for her two parents, Frey and Braavosi colors, respectively. The letter from Ser Domeric's aunt said it was one of the very first of the 298 designs to be assembled at her workhouse on the Barrow River. Alyx received it on her name day. There were other gifts as well: a sweet palfrey to ride, a bolt of silk, Myrish lace, and a goodly box of jewels. Rubies and pink diamonds in chief, Bolton colors. She wore them proudly, even now.
Say what you want about Domeric Bolton; he was heir to an ancient house with a large castle and vast lands. He was wealthy and strong with a sweet singing voice. Her brother Alesander had nothing but good things to say about him. Every time they stopped at a castle, Al sent a bird. She read every one, keeping them in last year's bag. Most girls didn't even have one. This was her third! Those chattering hens would be lucky to wed household knights, even hedge knights. So what if you were descended from Grandfather's first wife or even the second? It wouldn't help you make a match. At the Twins, the only people you could trust were those with the same mother and father. With Al away, and Father busy in the Northern trade, that meant just Mother and little Bradamar, her youngest brother.
As soon as the betrothal agreement was finalized, Mother told her she didn't have to attend divine service at the sept anymore. In fact, it was forbidden. Her future lord and husband held to the old gods of the North, and so would she. Every seventh day, when the rest of the girls were crowded into that marble prison, listening to Septon Harold drone on, she could do as she liked. From what Alyx had been told, the old gods did not have many lengthy ceremonies. A wedding before a heart tree took no time at all, nothing like the seven vows and seven oils and seven everything. Piss on all that.
So she rode her palfrey. She hawked. She read. She went over accounts with Mother and practiced the Valyrian dialects of the Free Cities. She dressed finer than her half-sisters and listened to them seethe.
Alyx had always been a big-boned girl, tall for her age, with broad shoulders. The teasing was especially bad when she was little. But who was laughing now? Just as Mother promised, after she flowered, her breasts grew heavy, and her hips flared generously. Betharios of Braavos was a shapely woman, and Alyx's grandmother had been a Crakehall. It was only to be expected. Her beauty would please her husband, and she would give him many trueborn children. She could picture it all quite clearly: their sweet babes playing in the Dreadfort or Barrow Hall, listening to their father's music. Whenever she returned to the Twins, it would be as an honored guest, and these harridans would not be so free with their tongues.
Some girls made mock of her because her betrothed kept a concubine, but Mother explained they were just jealous, and that was how things were done in Braavos. As Lady Bolton, overseeing the mercantile interests of her family would number among her duties, so the household would be better construed after Braavosi fashion. Lady Mordaena was terribly kind in any case and would never seek to supplant her. They would be friends, and their children would play together. It wasn't as if Ser Domeric couldn't afford to keep them both in finery.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
The last bird reported he'd easily won another tourney. With every entry into the lists, his fortune grew, and Ser Domeric was always generous with her and her family. Father was high in favor with Lord Walder, earning coin by trade, and Alesander would make a knight, mayhaps a landed knight sworn to the Dreadfort. Her brother grew prodigiously, seeming taller and more heavily muscled every time they stopped off at the Twins. He could already best some knights and men grown, she heard, aye, and sing sweetly. Perhaps not as sweetly as Ser Domeric, but what of it?
"Sweetling, will you come here?" Mother appeared at the base of the tower where they stayed. She, too, was dressed finer than usual. It was beginning to draw comments.
"Yes, Mother?"
She took Alyx by the hand and led her into the bedchamber she shared with Alyx's father. Once the door was closed, Mother handed her another roll of parchment. The seal was already broken. "Read."
Alyx obeyed. It was an order. Ser Domeric wanted two hundred ringmail hauberks, swords, spears, and sheaves of arrows. He meant to raise a force and war in the Mountains of the Moon against the wildlings. "This is for the smithies of Fairmarket."
"Just so, my daughter. A shipment of coin with some Northern soldiers is heading down the Neck. Your father was able to arrange credit, so we don't need to wait for the coin to pick up the supplies. I would have you take a party of guards and load up the iron on wayns. Bring it back here, and thence down the Kingsroad. Bring your betrothed his war supplies in person. I will handle the money once it gets here."
Oh, this would be exciting! "I should like to see him, and be of help to him. Why do you suppose he's doing this now?"
Mother shrugged. "Who can say? Mayhaps he was troubled by bandits on the road and means to have an end to it. Lord Nestor Royce, who holds the Vale for the Hand, has given Ser Domeric leave. I have relations in Gulltown, and there is talk of Ser Domeric scouring the mountains once and for all. Your future husband is about to make a mighty name for himself, and I would have you play a part in it, if you may."
She could do it. She would!
***
Under ideal conditions, Fairmarket is only a day's ride from the Twins, and it had been fair. High summer sunshine troubled them not at all. Alyx, her guards, and a few maidservants made good time. Loading the carts took a day, and returning took two more, heavily laden as they were.
There was not much to say about the journey down the Kingsroad. The Green Fork was to their right, and Alyx slept in inns of varying quality. When they turned east and started climbing the High Road, Alyx met a familiar face.
"Sister!"
Alyx dismounted her palfrey and rushed into the arms of her brother. The strapping lad was clad in black oiled ringmail and boiled leather, looking hard and sharp. To his side was a skinny slip of a girl, also armed. "Lady Bolton," she curtsied with a skirt that wasn't there. The girl didn't look particularly comfortable with courtesies.
Alesander snorted. "She's not married to Ser yet, Elia. We've been watching the road for you, Alyx. Our camp is on the high ground up ahead. Ser has set the Shadowscalps to training."
"Shadowscalps?" Alyx questioned.
"Some wild men who swore to Ser Domeric after he defeated them in battle," the girl, Elia, explained. Alyx recognized her look and accent as Dornish.
They heard the clack clack clacking of wooden swords before they came on the camp. The place smelled of sweat and leather and bacon crisping. "No, not like that!"
Ser Domeric paced about, shouting corrections. Fifty-odd pairs of men and boys were swatting at each other. They moved gracefully, but Alyx had seen enough knights training in the yard to know their technique left something to be desired.
"Ser, Alyx is here!" Alesander called out.
Her betrothed looked in their direction and smiled. It was a very handsome smile. He swallowed the last bite of a biscuit he'd been nibbling on and walked up to her, graceful as a dancer. "My lady, you do me honor."
Alyx couldn't keep the stupid lovestruck smile off her face. "Will you wear my favor when you go to war, my lord?"
"Of course," he answered instantly. "Once this lot is armed, we can begin. They're raw, I'll grant you, but they know these mountains well. With them for scouts and guides, there is nowhere the other clans can hide from us."
"And after that?" Alyx asked. She handed him the list of equipment the armorer's guild at Fairmarket provided her. He studied it closely, then nodded.
"After that? If there's enough of them left, I'll have my man Conn bend the knee to Lord Arryn, then we'll see if there is good mining in those mountains behind us."
Alyx almost squealed! Glory and fortune were one with her betrothed!
Alyx Frey