The Bite of Winter

Robb

Two weeks after Tyrion's trial

The cart jolted back and forth on the dirt road. A large piebald mare pulled the cart, that was full of grain. The leather reins felt good in Robb's hands as Greywind ran ahead of the cart. 

About two weeks ago, he was finally able to help around the farm. Samwise, the man who he had first spoken to, had asked for his help around the farm until their oldest son returned from a trip to Hornvale to sell barely. Robb had agreed, although he was eager to head north. 

While laid up, he had plenty of time to consider his future. He needed to learn from his past. He had allowed himself to grow so arrogant to believe that he could not lose a battle. But wars were not always won on the field. He had ignored the most crucial part of being a king, politics. He had forsaken an alliance because he had been weak. He had placed honor above the well-being of his country because that was what his father would have done.

Although, when Robb thought about it, his father had forsaken his honor when he sired Jon. He hadn't married Jon's mother. His father had instilled this warped sense of honor into all of his children, yet he couldn't even follow its rules. 

Robb was raised believing that honor was to be placed above all else. 

"Family, Duty, Honor." His mother's voice whispered in his head. Perhaps house Tully had the correct mentality. If he had valued his duty over his honor, many of his kin and bannermen would still be alive. 

The town drew closer. It was small. There was only a brothel, smith, tavern, and merchant there. The huts were made of wood and most of the roofing was made of reeds. He halted the horse in front of the merchant's hut. All he had to do was unload the grain, as Samwise had been paid ahead of time. He started to unload the cart, the merchant watching him. 

"Where are you from, boy?" He asked, eyes narrow. 

"A small town just outside of Fairmarket," Robb answered without skipping a beat. The lie of Jon Rivers had acted as a mail for him, protecting him from unwanted questions. 

"Ahh. What are you doing all the way up here?"

"I was looking for work and stumbled upon Mr. Samwise's farm." He pulled the last bag of grain out of the wagon. 

"Be careful on your way back. Lannister men have been raiding this area. They string up anyone who gets in their way." The merchant warned as Robb climbed into the cart.

"Thank you." Robb tapped the mare's hindquarters with the whip and the cart jolted forward. 

Once the village was out of sight, Robb was on edge. If the Lannister's found him, he would be killed. He felt naked without steel on his hip. He had left his sword in his chamber in the Twins before the wedding. He still had the dagger he had taken off of Roose Bolton, but if he was attacked it would do little to help him. 

 He could see smoke in the distance. Perhaps a farmer was preparing his fields for a new crop? The fire was said to be able to make the soil more fertile. It was currently harvest season, so it couldn't be that. 

Robb clucked his tongue and the mare extended her stride into a trot. Greywind loped next to the cart, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. 

As they approached, the horse began to grow restless. The hair on Robb's arms stood up, mirroring the hair on Greywinds back. He could practically smell the blood. 

When they arrived at the hut, all that remained was ash. Robb jumped out of the cart, desperately looking for Sam and his family. The breath was knocked out of him when he saw them. Sam, his wife, and youngest son hung from a tree. Robb couldn't move. He had personally experienced the cruelty of the Lannisters, but this was different. These were innocent people who were just trying to survive. They care not for crowns or power. 

Robb's feet carried him towards the family and he used the Bolton blade to cut them down. His heart was in his throat as he approached the field to grab a shovel. He dug three graves. It took him hours to make them deep enough that the wolved would not dig them up. As he laid them to rest, Greywind whined softly. 

He looked at the three corpses in their final resting places. "I'm sorry." He whispered hoarsely before covering them with soft dirt. 

The mare, still attached to her cart had begun to graze on a patch of grass not too far from the now torched stable. The Lannister men must have taken the hunting horse that Sam had found him on along with the family's older plow horse and goats. 

He used his blade to cut the mare free from her harness, leaving just her bridle on. It was time to find Jon. He gave her ribs a tap with his heel and they began to trot north. They weren't following any particular road, gods knew what kind of trouble they would run into on the Kingsroad. They cut through streams, fields, and forests. Greywind forged ahead as if he knew exactly how to get them to his brother.