A ballad of blood - A tale from the song of Ice and Fire. Part two

Somewhere in a cave sat a young girl. She felt her stomach pang as she sat by the campfire. She had been hungry before, it was the cold that had started to bother her. She clutched at the wool blanket around her shoulders which were slender and bony to the touch. She was shorter than most of the girls that were her age. She used to envy the long legs of some of her fellow girls in the village. Not so much now as she folded them beneath her.

Her skin was unnaturally pale but this was not what made her different from the rest. Only her mother had known her secret before she was forced to leave. Now there were others too, and right now they were arguing about what to do with her.

They would send her away she was sure of it. Just like her mother had done not too long ago. She did not know who her father was, and her mother would never speak of him. There were whispers and tales of raiders that had made it over the great wall and fell upon her village. The soil was rich and land was relatively cheap. Cheap enough to lure families from the south to relocate and start afresh. Being so close to the wall meant the occasional raid from the wild folk. They called the area just south of Queenscrown, the ‘gift’. The villagers soon learned that cheap gifts bore the steepest cost.

A sparrow flew into the cave and deftly landed on the girls knee. The others were too caught up in their spat to notice. The tiny bird chirped to gain her attention. She smiled as she recognised him. From beneath her blanket she slowly extended her hand, inviting him to jump onto her palm.

“So little one, what news do you have for me?” She asked softly. 

The sparrow cocked his head as she cupped him and brought him closer to her face.

She had always felt more comfortable around animals, even as a small child. Whilst the other children would play and scuffle and taunt each other, she would find herself drifting towards the livestock. When she got a little older she would spend the better part of an afternoon wandering the giftwood. She would close her eyes and listen to birds as they sang to each other. The more she watched the more she felt she could understand them. She would return home late in the evening, covered in dirt and shivering. Only to be chastised by her parents.

“She’s been in those bloody woods again, Lyra.” Her stepfather would call out to her mother as soon as she walked through the front door.

Not that he had to call too loudly for the lodge they lived in was small, with no rooms to speak of. He would not even look at her as he continued about his business, typically repairing something that should have been purchased anew long ago.

 “It’s any wonder that the wolves haven’t gotten her yet. Would save us a mouth to feed if they did.” Was how he typically finished scolding her.

Her mother would try her best to clean her wayward daughter with a cold wet cloth and check her over for cuts and bruises with hands that fretted. The young girl tried her best to explain that the animals were her friends. Once she made a mistake of mentioning a pack of wolves she came across. For this her mother cuffed her across the cheek.

“Now listen here young lady, I’ll have no more of this nonsense. Do you hear me?” Her mother warned her in frustration between despairing sobs.

The young girl would nod, despite not believing the words she heard. She could barely contain her own frustration at not being believed. Her younger half brothers gave her a wide berth at their father’s insistence. They had loved her stories at first and one of them had once followed into the giftwood. It was when she first realised a gift of her own, one that came with its own cost.

Yells within the cave brought her back to cold damp present. She turned her head away from the sparrow to watch the commotion. The little bird chirped and fluttered in annoyance at being disturbed.

“I say we ditch this hell hole and make our way back to the hideout. My balls are freezing and my gut can’t take no more of this offal stew. Nor can my nostrils for that matter. To hell with Kurt’s orders.” One of them called out above the others.

He was the oldest and tallest of them all but none were more than a few years older than her. The grown ones had left already.  This one had a birthmark above his eyebrow and a pox mark on his chin. Fuzzy light brown hair grew in patches around his lower face but did little to cover it. He had a long sharp face, gaunt almost. Dark patches circled his narrow eyes, due to lack of sleep since being abandoned. That was three nights ago. She knew why. Their sideways glances at her gave it away.

“Kurt said to stay put and guard her so that’s what we ought to do. Not that she needs guarding. She’s more than willing to put up with your company and the smell. Not many lasses can say the same.” One of the others shot back.

This one she liked. He was younger than the other as best as she could judge. Though shorter and younger he stood taller in character. His shoulders were broader and his short hair was so black and shiny that it appeared to be permanently damp. His face was a little too round to be considered handsome but his eyes were a warm brown. He was quick to smile even when in the middle of an argument. It was he that had found her out in the woods.

The caravan her mother had paid to transport her did not make it to Highgarden where the sept awaited. Her mother had hoped that the priest and sisters could cure her afflicted daughter. She had hugged her daughter at the village entrance and waved farewell until the last wagon passed from sight. The rest were made up of families looking for warmer havens before winter arrived. They all knew something was queer about the girl and would bristle if she got too close. Unfortunately in times of war caravans became easy prey.

They had made it past moat Coatlin and had not long entered the Riverlands when she sensed something was amiss. Animals had a keen sense for danger that their human counterparts had either lost or ignored. The horses began to neigh and the birds scattered from the tree line into the sky. She tried to warn the woman she was travelling with. When she was shooed away she turned to the caravan master.

“Somebody get this girl away from me, she’s unsettling the horses. I knew I should have refused yer mother. Some coin is just more hassle than it’s worth.” He had called out without so much as a glance at her.

The driver’s wide girth was nearly enough to fill both seats at the head of the wagon. His hair was grey which made him ancient in the young girl’s eyes. It would also be his last day alive.

Annoyed, the girl had jumped down with her pack in hand and left them to their fate. Nobody fretted about her absence as best as she could tell. As soon as she was among the wildlife and shrubbery and heather she began to calm. It was not long before cries could be heard and black smoke could be seen filling the sky. She felt bad for the children and hoped that they were unharmed. But she had little patience for people. In her view they were too often cruel and woefully ignorant.

How long she stayed in the woods, she could not say. She would spend her days wandering and foraging.  She gave up eating meat long ago, save for fish which she had developed a knack of catching when she happened upon a river or stream. She would sit and listen to the animals speak to each other. She particularly liked to hear the birds sing. Then without realising it she would find herself joining in. Only the sound did not come from her own lips.

She had learned how to meld her own consciousness with certain animals before leaving her home in the north. Small mammals and birds were the easiest. She would close her eyes and radiate warmth from her body. Then when she found one that was compatible she would flow her consciousness towards it.

The days went on like this, some she experienced in her own body, others she did not. She could only maintain the melding for so long and for such a distance. If she pushed too much she would awaken in her own body, typically with bleeding from the nose and a throbbing ache in her head. She would also find herself famished. 

Soon enough the days began to get colder and shorter and the birds sang less frequently. This saddened her. Then the soldiers came. And the bird songs disappeared entirely. This angered her.

She would hide when they came marching through the woods. She would watch as they shot down whatever they saw. Deer, rabbits, birds that were large enough, and even squirrels. She dared not move or set a fire for fear of being caught. She remembered feeling alone and reached out in vain. Each attempt became increasingly shorter as hunger swamped her. She remembered lying down in despair, not sure if she was going to see the next sun rise. That was when he found her.

“Oh what’s this then?” A voice had caused her eyes to flicker open.

Above her she could make out little more than a shadowy figure. The sun blocked most of her vision but she saw more than enough for alarm to spread to her limbs.

“It is not a good idea for you to be out here by yourself. Come on, let’s get you some place warm.”

The voice reminded her of the adolescence youths of her village. They would spend their day tormenting her if she made the mistake of happening upon them. Thankfully they would not follow her too far into the woods before giving up and turning home.

 She remembered a hand grabbing her by the arm. She had kicked out with a strength that she had thought had deserted her. She heard him groan as she scrambled away from him in panic, not once taking her eyes of her assailant.

He remained bent over, one hand on his knee and the other on his crotch. His face was red and his breathing laboured. It must have been some kick. She too became breathless as it was hard going travelling on her buttocks, with only her hands and arms to drag her backward.

 Her head began to swim preventing her from rising. Not that she could have sprinted far. Thankfully he had made no move to approach. She began to calm as she realised how young he was.

“Did you have to kick me in my knackers?” He had shot at her.

He was still hunched over but the redness in his face began to diminish. She remembered seeing no anger in his eyes or mistrust. In some ways it was more unsettling after being used to it half her life.

“Well, did you have to grab me?” She shot back defiantly, finding her voice at last.

“I thought you needed help, that’s all.” He returned, as if her response stung as much as the kick.

“Why? Because I am just a poor girl in the woods and can’t take care of myself?” She countered, annoyed at his assumption.

“No, because you looked half dead on the ground. Plus night will soon be here. But you’re right, I shouldn’t have grabbed you. I should have kept on strolling by. Now I shall be limping back to camp for my troubles.”

 He winced once more, although this was more theatrical than anything else.

She could not help but giggle as she pictured it. She thought it would make him angry so she covered her mouth. But he just stood there and laughed along with her. Driven by hunger and loneliness she decided to accompany him. She would starve soon enough anyway. Besides, her instincts told her she could trust him.

It was a long time since she had felt that way about anyone.

“I am Dash by the way. Short for Dashel. Never did like the name much.” He introduced himself after they had covered some distance.

She paused before giving her own name. She was awkward at introductions at the best of times. Animals had a purer way of forming bonds that did not require needless small talk. In that moment she also elected to abandon her real name.

“You can call me Robyn.”

What he said ended up being true enough. He did limp back, for the first part of the journey at least. He failed to mention that there would be others there also. These ones she did not like quite so much. One in particular got her goat, and he was currently arguing the case to desert her here. Which was fine by her, she did not need anyone.

‘I’m the oldest here that makes me in charge. And I say we go.’ He prodded his thumb into his own chest to emphasise the point.

‘Oh? I thought it was because you were the ugliest.’ Dash countered. She could see that he was also getting worked up and both began to lose what little composure they had.

Sure enough they began to scuffle. It was always the same with boys, turning to fists and tussling when words failed. One of the others tried to break it up to no avail. He was dark of skin and shorter than both. It was clear that he was not from these parts.

Her attention was brought back to the bird as she felt its beak nip at her thumb. It chirped at her again as it began to flutter once more. She fed it some crumbs as she had promised as a reward. She watched as it quickly pecked at the smaller crumbs before taking a sizeable part of crust in its beak and taking flight out of the cave. It was then that she spoke up.

"They are safe."

She informed them as she began to stare back at the fire, adding the last piece of wood and stoking it with a nearby stick.

Nobody seemed to hear her as they were all caught up in the fight. The dark skinned one tried his best to come between them. The others, four in total were whooping and cheering their testy friends on. They were clearly enjoying the spectacle. Not that it was a clash of highly skilled titans by any means. They both had their arms around each other’s necks. Their faces were red from exertion as they forced one another to their knees. Still they hung on, not willing to concede. For all their bravado they were still just boys.

With a sigh she stood slowly and began to walk over. She pointed her finger at them. Shadows from the fire streaked across her face giving her an eery appearance. True enough, the spectators spotted her first.  The cheering soon stopped as they recoiled. One even tripped over himself as he backed away. Nobody laughed at this as they backed up against the cave wall.

With the sudden change in the air, the two squabbling combatants released each other. The dark skinned one remained statue still. The pox marked one still on the flat of his cheeks, inched his hand towards his dagger belt, stopping only when his peacekeeping friend clinched his shoulder. Dash looked unperturbed as he caught his breath and rubbed his neck.

She stopped at arm’s reach, her finger still pointing in their direction. Then she dropped it and smiled mischievously.

“They are safe.” She said once more before turning on her heel and making her way back to the campfire.

“I told you she could help us Finn.” Dash shot his foe a dark look. Clearly still upset at their battle but buoyed by being proven right.

“Hmpf, I ll believe it when I see it. And the only way to do that is to abandon this rat nest.” Finn asserted as he composed himself. He braved her a dark look of his own now that she had retreated.

The other one that remained interjected, anxious of another fight breaking out.

“The bird, what else did it see?” He asked her tentatively.

She looked at him. His eyes though dark, had a light of intelligence that the others did not. She closed her eyes and relived the sparrow’s memories. It was difficult at first as birds do not see quite the same way humans do. Everything was from above and curved making it hard for her to judge distances and sizes.

She saw again the older ones following the sparrow as it directed them safely.

The army that caused them to hide here marched onward, like a large grey snake. Their scouts and hunting parties were fanned out in all directions. She felt the bird’s frustration at having to travel slowly as it glided from branch to branch, having to wait for the humans to catch up. This she pushed through, she had seen this already.

There were other memories also. At the head was a group of men on horseback and a large banner that caught her attention. Though the memory was brief she never forgot the image of a man being flayed. She knew who it belonged to of course. Everyone from the north did. The north always remembered.

This she relayed back to them.

“The flayed man? That will be Bolton’s lot.” One of the others piped up. He blushed as everyone turned to face him. All except for Dash who’s face went dark suddenly.

“That means the Whitehills will be with ‘em. A step behind like the loyal lapdogs they are. I’ll bet you a hot pie that there was a banner sporting a white peak with a star at its crown.”

She was not used to seeing Dash this way. He had been hot blooded with Finn, but this was more of a cold rage. It was unsettling to see.

‘Yes, but which way are they heading?’ The dark skinned one pressed her. Of them all he had the keenest ear for details.

After thinking for a moment trying to get her bearings from memories that were not her own, she spoke.

‘South or there abouts.’ She nodded to herself as she said it.

‘Towards Kingslanding most like. The whole damn war is centered around the Iron throne. It’s caused nothing but misery as best as I can tell.’ Dash commentated, the shadow still upon his face.

‘Hmm not likely. I did not hear mention of the Stark banner. I think their target is closer to home.’ The smarter one interjected.

‘What makes you say that Toby? You re going by the word of this... this’ Finn stopped then as he pointed in her direction. He was not so brave as to insult her directly.

“Believe your own eyes then, for we all saw them. Kingslanding maybe their target but they’ll have a hell of a time taking it without the port at Duskendale first.” Toby shot back, annoyed that his logic had been questioned.

“Duskendale... Aren’t some of our boys locked up there?” Dash asked, turning to Finn for confirmation.

“What of it? Rykker has them locked up good and proper. I’d wager they’re a lot more warmer than we are here.” He replied sullenly.

Dash paused for a moment and appeared to be thinking something over. It was clear that he was concerned. But Robyn did not know what or who they were referring to. She was not well versed in these parts or anywhere south of the giftwood for that matter.

“We need to get down there and warn them.” He exclaimed suddenly.

“Oh, so now you want to leave? Talking with animals, what a crock of cow dung.” Finn spat out his disdain.

“Aye, I’ll be taking my leave of you. Stay here and wait for Kirk to return. It matters not to me. Our boys are in trouble if the Boltons get hold of em.” He exclaimed as he made to put on his belt.

“You’re going alone?’ Finn asked nonplussed. The others looked at each other nervously. Not even the grown ones would dare go ranging so far alone.

“If needs be. You recited the words when joining, same as me.” Dash puffed out his chest as he replied.

Robyn could not help but admire him in that moment. Nobody in her village would have braved such a dangerous mission. She doubted anyone would even have looked for her had she got herself lost. Maybe all humans were not so bad after all.

Before Dash finished packing Toby spoke up.

“Aye, I spoke them too. Besides, you’ll need someone with the brains to get you there and back in one piece.” He smiled as he said it, though his eyes remained unsure of the words he spoke.

“I’ll go too.” She found herself saying, surprising herself.

She did not care much for humans or their conflicts. This quest, whatever it was, meant little to her. Something about Dash told her it was probably best to stick with him then to stay here with the others. She could always strike out on her own again if it got too dangerous, she reasoned with herself.

“You’ll need me to get your message through. Unless you can walk through walls or fade from sight.” She said as Dash made to challenge her.

After it dawned on him that they would need her gift he relented with a nod. She walked to one of the packs near where the others stood, silent and huddled together. The closer she got the younger they seemed. Too young for war but too old for the world to take care of them she realised.

“They will have to learn.” A voice spoke in her mind.

She promptly donned the small pack that did not belong to her. She needed it more than them. Besides they were too scared to challenge her. Or perhaps they respected what she and the others were about to undertake. She did not know, nor did she care. She was hungry and she was tired and she longed to be rid of the smell of foul stew and bad company.

It did not take long for the three of them to start out for they travelled light. Dash had a determined face as they left the relative safety of the cave behind. He took the lead. Toby followed a step behind but looked on edge as was alert to every sound. She on the other hand felt at home.

Once they left the rocky entrance it did not take long before they spotted trampled grass and mud. Broken bits of kit and used torches littered the makeshift pathway made by thousands of boots.

“A blind man could follow this trail.” Dash observed as he adjusted his sword belt.

Robyn wondered then if had ever used it before.

After a moment’s pause they continued onward. She made to follow until a voice called out from behind. They all froze at first until they realised who it was.

“You guys will march right up their backside if you continue on this track.” She recognised Finn’s voice.

“What are you doing out here?”

Dash asked half annoyed, half surprised as Tomas loped up to them. His long lanky legs made short work of the distance between them.

“Well, somebody has got to make sure you don’t get lost or killed. I don’t relish explaining why I let the young’uns out of my sight. Besides I can’t let you hog all the glory now.”

 It was Finn’s turn to puff his chest out despite being slightly breathless. Robyn thought they were going to argue again but Dash consented, much to Toby’s relief. She on the other hand, did not relish the idea of travelling with him. Then again, all sorts of mishaps can happen in the woods she consoled herself.

With that on her mind and a sinister smile upon her face she also began to tread on.