I'm Theon Greyjoy

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***

A day after Robb's army had encamped in the Ditch of Cailin, detachments of Dustins and Riswells arrived. Banners with horse heads and crossed axes fluttered over the troops approaching the fortress. But they were somehow... small?

-A couple of thousand infantry and five hundred cavalry - is that all that two weak houses can field? - Robb asked irritably, looking at the few troops coming from the west.

- Lady Dustin doesn't like House Stark very much. - Theon said. - And she's a native Risswell.

- I've never been to Barrowton. Simply because father never travelled to the place. Perhaps that's the reason. - Robb agreed, looking through the gatehouse window. He could see the camp outside the walls of the stronghold.

It had changed a lot since Brandon's death. Gone was the smiling boy who made jokes, gone was the grim and unsociable man. Greyjoy had heard what the soldiers and servants now called Robb.

The Grim Wolf.

'What happened in the Wolfswood to you and Brandon? Do you blame yourself for his death?'

-A messenger came from the Riverlands this morning, from my uncle Edmure Tully. - After a few moments of silence, Robb broke the silence. - The Lannisters have invaded Trident. Tywin Lannister leads at least thirty-five thousand swords.

- That's a lot. A great many. - Theon frowned, sitting at a large table in the round room of the tower. - How many forces do we have?

- Seventeen thousand mounted and foot at the moment. But the Manderly and Flint units haven't arrived yet. - Robb broke away from his scrutiny of the camp and returned to the table, taking a seat on a fur-covered chair with a back and armrests. - If the Risswells and the Dustins would send more men....

- We can't change anything, Robb. - Stark's companion shrugged. - We have a war to fight, and we can't be distracted by punishing negligent bannermen.

- If Father were here, they'd send more.

- Perhaps. But your father's in King's Landing and you're here. And you have a large army to command, not your father.

-Yes, you're right, Theon. - Robb put his hands on the table and looked round. His wandering gaze roamed the stone walls of the tower, the newly made furniture and the standard of his house hanging at the entrance.

-You've done an excellent job, Theon. - Stark said casually. - Maester Luwin was right.

- Maester Luwin was right? - Theon interjected in a dangerous voice. - Was he the one who told you to send me here?

His friend, who didn't understand Theon's tone, nodded and answered in the affirmative:

-Yes, the maester thought highly of you. When I was deciding who to send, you were the one he recommended to me

'So the old man knew something. That's for sure. It's amazing how much power Maesters have in lords' castles and they don't realise it...'

-We'll wait for Manderly and the Flints to arrive and head straight across the Isthmus. - Robb continued. - Is there a problem?

-No, Robb, no. I hope you will take me with you and not leave me to waste my youth in this fortress.

Stark smiled suddenly, pushing the grim expression away from his face.

-Of course not. I could use a fighter in the war who can take Jon and me to the ground together in a duel.

-Glad to hear it.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''"'

Exactly a week later, the Manderly and Flint units of the Widow's Watch approached Cailin's Moat.

In three rows, the column of Knights of White Harbour entered the already settled camp of the northern army. Most of the knights were clad in lats, and the surcoats were embroidered with watermen on a green background. They were followed by lesser nobles - free riders, sword knights and infantry.

There was no more loyal vassal to the Starks than the Manderlys. They were not the original inhabitants of this region - exiles from the Outlands, fleeing the wrath of the Gardener kings, descendants of Garth of Greenhand.

Reading the stories of Manderly and the founding of White Harbour, Theon saw it as another clever calculation by the Winter Kings, who were not only consolidating their power in the North by force.

They needed a house that could match the power of the rebellious Boltons, but one that was loyal and would never dare encroach on the throne of the North. The solution was quite logical and simple - the Winter Kings accepted the outsiders from the Outlands and allowed them to rise.

The Manderlys could never become the dominant force in the North - the Starks simply wouldn't allow it. Nor will the other northern houses. But they have become the third, if not the second most powerful house in the North - mostly because of their wealth.

The Manderly troops were followed by the Flints of the Widow's Watch. Their army was smaller than Manderly's, and they had no knights, and the free riders looked 'poorer' in equipment. There were very few warriors in the North with the prefix 'sire' to their name. The only exception to this is White Harbour.

This house in general has branches in different parts of the Northern Kingdom - the First Flints in the northern mountains that are near the Wall, there are also Flints from Silicon Finger that is on Cape Kraken.

The Manderlys are led by the Manderly brothers, Willis and Wendell, sons of Lord Manderly and Robin Flint, heir to the Widow's Watch.

Robb had already allocated a place for the Manderlys and Flints in the camp, so they settled in without any trouble, though not for long....

Lady Catelyn arrived with them, accompanied by Ser Rodrik, but without Tyrion Lannister. Greyjoy felt sorry for the woman - to learn that your husband had been captured and one of your sons killed by savages at the same moment is quite a blow that few can take. Lady Stark could not--

- No... no... my sweet Bran...' Robb's mother snuggled into his shoulder, dropping tears of grief. Theon and Ser Rodrik left the room, leaving son and mother alone.

She left the room half an hour later, with dark circles under her eyes and looking as if she had aged.... A few hours later she left Moat Cailin, travelling to Winterfell, accompanied by Ser Rodrik and fifty guardsmen. Stark sent her home, and Lady Catelyn could not resist her son's will. She was devastated and deep in her worries, not even attempting to object....

As far as Greyjoy knew, the Maester and the Castle Steward were now running things in Winterfell under Rickon's name. With Lady Catelyn back, Robb could rest easy.

'There must always be a Stark in Winterfell.'

And that same day, the entire North's army rolled up camp and began their march. The road ahead was hard - the Isthmus was difficult and dangerous for large armies. But the bogmen would help their suzerain to pass through the swamp lands in peace....

The first to pass through the Cailin Moat were the Stark troops. The troops of Dreadfort, White Harbour, Barrowton, the Last Hearth, Carhold, and many others followed.

Theon saw the Highlanders, tall men clad in iron armour of various kinds, wielding mostly two-handed weapons and looking extremely dangerous. They were marching haphazardly, but that didn't stop them from looking more formidable than the even ranks of the rest of the troop.

Theon walked beside Robb, who was leading the army. He had decided to make him his bodyguard, and now Greyjoy followed Stark everywhere, like his direwolf.

Cicero was always at his side, the parrot clearly afraid to fly in the woods and marshes, as if afraid of something. Perhaps poisonous snakes lurking in the tree crowns?

Robb, before the last of the bannermen arrived, had assembled a council and put forward a plan that many had approved. Even Theon saw it as simple and yet ingenious... though he was not a general, not one to judge. At least, he had never commanded an army....

All that remains is to cross the Isthmus and the Twins. Which, I wonder, will be more difficult?

'''''''''''''''''''''''''"'

Carefully travelling on horseback along the path ridiculously called the Kingsroad, Robb surveyed his surroundings with his eyes. The vast marshes of the Isthmus inspired reflexive apprehension and fear. The venomous snakes and lion-eaters lurking in the swamps did not add to the pleasant atmosphere, but made him want to stay away from the place.

Stark would have done so if he hadn't had to lead a huge army through these lands.

- An unpleasant place. - Without a shadow of emotion, someone next to Robb said. Stark looked round.

In front of him was a medium-sized man with an unremarkable face. His pale, almost colourless eyes seemed to look into his very soul, and that would repel anyone from such a man. Robb was no exception, but he dared not show his dislike for one of his father's strongest bannermen. Education.

It was Robb himself, however, who had initiated Bolton's arrival.

'I think you should be more in touch with your vassals, Robb.' - Theon once told him, before the northern army set off for the Riverlands - 'It's going to be a long journey, and you can make the most of it. Talk to one of your vassals every day. Communication gives you a pretty good idea of a man's character.'

Robb found Greyjoy's advice quite useful. He took it immediately.

It was the third day they had travelled through countless marshes, and it was time to speak to Lord Bolton.

Father had always been wary of the Boltons, and there was never much warmth, not even indifference, in his words when it came to the great standard-bearer of House Stark. They had once been the mighty Red Kings, the only ones capable of challenging the Winter Kings' right to rule the North.

They bent their knees. But their oaths had not prevented them from rebelling against their suzerains on several occasions.

The horse Robb sat on snorted unhappily as the direwolf, Grey Wind, ran beside him. Calming his four-legged friend with a touch, Stark noticed another wary look Lord Bolton cast at the direwolf.

'You are not as cold as you wish to appear,' the sighting brought grim satisfaction. He had not liked Ruse Bolton at first sight-something about him repelled him, made him always tense.

From behind him he could hear the loud roar of Amber and Theon's indifferent voice. After the council held in Kailin's Moat, Amber had become friendly with Theon.

Robb smiled as he remembered how Cicero had flown into the round room, flying over the map of Westeros on the table and 'accidentally' shitting on the lion carved from wood.

Seeing such iniquity, Amber laughed openly and said:

- My lords, this is clearly a sign of the Old Gods! We will drag the lion by the beard and bathe him in shit!

Many of the lords Robb had allowed into the council laughed, or just smiled, holding back their laughter. But Robb was not amused - he had never laughed since Brandon's death.

Thinking of Brandon almost made Stark mope. His mind began to drift back to the memories that disgusted his mind, and his heart was filled with hatred for the wildlings, hatred for the Night's Watch... hatred for himself.

Foolishly, Brandon's throat had been slit by one of the wildlings right in front of him, grinning mockingly. It was the last thing the bastard had time to do - the distraught Leto had torn him apart in a few moments, as well as the rest of the wildlings and deserters.

He didn't remember how long he stood over his brother's body and wept. He was echoed by the direwolves howling over the forest and the cawing of the crows circling above them.

Robb Stark changed then. The young wolf died, and someone else was born.....

He forced the memories away, into the back of his mind. He couldn't grieve now. He must free his father and sisters. At any cost.

- Lord Bolton. - he turned to Bolton, finally calmed down. - What do you think of restoring Cailin's Moat to its final form?

- Finalised? - Bolton seemed surprised. He asked quietly, as if in a whisper. - You mean in its full form back at the time of the Andal invasion?

- Yes, Lord Bolton. In its final form. - Robb confirmed.

-It will cost a great deal and take a long time. -Yes, Lord Bolton. - Ruse Bolton began to say.

'Thrifty.'

When Robb asked Lord Last Hearth and Lord Carhold about it, he got stormy words from the former that it was long overdue, and from the latter that it was time for the Southerners to be reminded what Moat Cailin was all about. But neither of them ever said anything about the great expense.

- I think it is worth asking your lord father's opinion. - Bolton finished.

'Also thinks I'm a brat for referring to my father,' was not surprising to Robb. There were still Northern lords who, even after Grey Wind had nearly bitten Amber's hand off, remained sceptical of Robb and his ability to command men.

And Roose Bolton is one of them.

Ahead loomed the squads of bogmen who had joined his army immediately on the first day Stark entered the lands of the Isthmus. Lord Reed had sent few men, only seven hundred foot soldiers. But his father had told him that the bogmen were excellent scouts and skilful archers. But his father forgot to tell him that swamp dwellers are not afraid to smear poison on their arrows ...

Their progress was quite rapid, even though the road was difficult. And soon enough they would reach Gemini, the fiefdom of House Frey.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''"'

The Northmen's vanguard halted at the Twins and saw before them closed gates, high walls, behind the crenellations of which stood Frey's heavily armed lancers, catapults and scorpions ready. They were clearly not welcome.

- I thought the Freys had sent help to Lord Edmure against the Lannisters. - Robb frowned, looking round the castle. Or rather, half of it, perched on one side of the Green Ridge.

-Freys are cowardly dogs. - Amber said loudly. - You'd expect nothing less from them.

- That doesn't mean the path through the Twins is closed. - Ser Wendell Manderley, who had a bald head and a rather large moustache, frowned. Like all Manderlys, he was as fat as a chubby barrel.

- Let's take the Twins by storm! - Lord Amber was clearly on a roll today.

He wants a fight, Greyjoy thought. Looking around the Twins, Theon realised that even if they took one part of the castle and lost a lot of men and time, there was a second part that would be even harder to take. The Frey estate was indeed impregnable.

-It's a castle you can't take in a hurry. - Bolton said quietly.

- Perhaps we should try to negotiate with Lord Frey. - Greyjoy said quietly to Stark beside him. Stark looked at him and nodded.

- Would you be able to send them a message?

- No problem.

Camped in front of the Twins, Robb scribbled a note and attached it to an arrow. The accurate Greyjoy sent the arrow with the note right over the castle walls without fear of accidentally killing anyone.

A few hours later, the gates opened, revealing a small column of a couple of dozen Frey lancers and one of them, apparently.

They rode a considerable distance from the castle and halted, thus inviting Robb in. And Robb, taking with him an equal number of footmen, set off to meet them.

It is not known what they talked about, but after ten minutes they went off in different directions. When Robb returned, he was even more gloomy. The conversation had not brought him warmth or joy.

-They want me to marry one of Lord Walder's granddaughters.

There were cries of indignation among the northern lords.

-"And I agreed. - Robb continued. - We have no choice, my lords. We cannot sit beneath the walls of the Twins while the Lannisters ravage the Riverlands and my father and sisters are held captive.

The Northerners weren't happy, but they accepted Robb's decision, realising there was little choice. We'd have to play by the Freys' rules.