Karyl Unleashed

Karyl Unleashed

The raven arrived just before dinner to Free Range Keep. Maester Markron hesitated after he read the message; Lord Karyl placed a high value upon his dinner time with his family, and little else was considered more important. A moment passed, and the maester headed down the stairs to the family chambers. Such news must be passed along as soon as possible.

Still, he held back at the doorway to the dining room, and looked at the happy family enjoying each other's company. This was the one place where Lord Karyl could relax, and his smiles came often as his lady Maga Benevola and his children chatted about their days. Lady Maga's raven-black hair bespoke of her Dornish roots, the warmth of her smile the Dornish sun. Their daughter Jayne as lovely as her mother, with her father's red hair, but missing her left hand, the result of an unfortunate riding accident. Despite that, her grace and charm and beauty had led to no shortage of suitors, and she was to be married come the spring. Their son Mychal had the look and the serious mien of his father, but he too laughed and smiled often when the family came together.

The maester felt his heart drop as he watched. The dark words he carried were most likely going to end the merriment tonight, and quite possibly for many nights to come. Gathering his courage, Maester Markron cleared his throat and quietly said, “Beg pardon, Lord Karyl. I have just received a raven of the utmost importance.”

Lord Karyl's face still held a hint of a smile as he turned to his maester. “Of course it is important if you're here at this time, Markron. After these years, I trust your judgement. Speak freely, I hide nothing from my family of our affairs.”

Markron nodded, a slight bow. “Thank you, milord. Still, this is a difficult message to bear. Stannis Baratheon and his army are at the Wall, at the behest of the late Lord Commander, Jeor Mormont, and the new Lord Commander Jon Snow. The wildlings are on the march, led by a former brother of the Night Watch, Rance Mayder. They are preparing to attack the Wall itself, and Stannis is calling for all available men to aid in the Wall's defense.”

“Grave news indeed, for all the Kingdoms. Especially with no Stark in Winterfell. At least there is a Stark or two at the Wall.”

“None but the b*****d, milord. Lord Eddard's brother Benjen was lost while out on patrol north of the Wall several months ago. I have received rumors of various ravens having come down from beyond the wall with reports of thousands of wildlings overtaking what men Mormont had available. From most accounts, the Lord Commander met his death attempting to hold off the wildlings at impossible odds.”

Lord Karyl shook his head sadly. “I care not what men have done to be sentenced to the Night Watch. They are brave men, to whom we owe much and more. Maester, please summon my master of arms to my quarters. We will muster our men and head for the Wall with all due speed. The Wall must be defended. It is all that keeps the wildlings and worse from our lands.”

Maester Markron pursed his lips. “Of course, milord. One issue, however: Stannis calls for reinforcements as the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms. Your willingness to aid in the wall's defense at his request will be seen by the Lannisters as support for his claim. Might you not consider that before you act?”

“I considered that immediately as you spoke earlier, maester, and thank you for your concern. The necessity of the moment overreaches the political. If the Night Watch and Stannis' army falls, King's Landing would be the least of our worries. Damn Robert Baratheon and his fascination with hunting! The wildlings surely heard of his death, and mean to strike while Westeros is at its weakest, with a barely weaned child in the Iron Throne. Enough. I shall attend to Ser Hugo immediately after dinner, Markron.”

Maester Markron bowed in acknowledgement. “I shall see to it, milord. We will attend you there.”

As the maester left, Lord Karyl turned back to his family, who were struck silent by the news. He smiled wryly, and said, “Let us finish our dinner. The berry pie will be cold before we can get to dessert.”

No one moved, and Lady Maga spoke. “While we have this time, let us speak our minds. With all that will need to be done, there will be no time later. You speak truth, milord, the Wall must be defended. As far north as we are, our men may well be the closest who will respond to the call. I know where your duty lies, and were there no duty involved, your honor would call you. I will aid you in gathering the stores and supplies your men will need for the march and the battle, and keep the servants to task. What would you have us do otherwise?”

Lord Karyl chuckled. “Thank the Gods we were made to marry, Maga Benevola! Many a lady in your position would be cozening me to stay by the hearth and let Stannis freeze by himself at the Wall. But you have more honor in your small finger than many a lord. I know well that you can manage our lands as well as I can, perhaps better. There is nothing in which I need instruct you.”

Jayne spoke up. “I can send a raven to my betrothed, and call him to muster his forces and join with you. And I shall not marry him before, only after you both return.”

“It is good that you wish to help as you can, Jayne. But the raven must come from me, and I daresay if he needs your call to come my service in this, then he does not deserve your hand. I bid you to observe what your mother does while I am gone, and how. If you do not understand why she does it, ask her, and learn. If you do not know it now, you will soon discover that your mother is a great lady, and wise. There is much and more that you might learn from her that will serve you well as you become a lady.”

Mychal looked his father in the eye, and with the full dignity of a ten-year-old, said, “I must ride by your side, Father, as your squire. To do otherwise would bring dishonor upon your name.”

Karyl glanced at Maga as they both suppressed a smile. “I see, milady, that we are raising an honorable lad. Mychal, nothing would please me more than to have you at my side. However, there must always be a Lord Unleashed at Free Range. As I will be away, that leaves only you to carry on in my stead at dinners and formal affairs. Your mother will need you at her right hand. Will you carry our name with honor here while I am gone?”

Mychal stood at attention. “I shall not shame you, Father. I will do as you bid.”

Lord Karyl's eyes shone, as did Lady Maga's. “Neither you nor your sister have ever shamed me, Mychal. Our name will carry the weight of respect for years to come thanks to the both of you. Now, enjoy your pie, and get you off to your chambers. Your mother and I needs must talk, and we'll be up to see you to bed later.”

With a quick embrace for their mother and father, the children left for the kitchen and their dessert. Lady Maga came to Karyl, and sat in the chair next to him. She said, “How soon before you can ride? How much time do I have to gather and prepare?”

Lord Karyl pondered. “Most of my men are within a day's ride of the keep. It will take the messengers perhaps two days at most to alert all. I can send ravens to the most distant; they all should arrive within days. We will be off by this time next week at the latest. We must hurry, for as Lord Eddard would say, winter is coming. It may well already be at the Wall to greet us with the wildlings.”

Lady Maga nodded. “Not a minute must be wasted, then. We have had a plentiful summer and a generous autumn. We have reserves aplenty, and cured pork and salted beef that will travel well. With the length of this summer, we started preparing for a long hard winter early. Glad I am that we have. This winter will be longer...and harder...than I had anticipated.”

“I will ask my banners to bring provisions as well for their own men. I pray that they and their ladies have had the foresight that you've shown.”

“No amount of foresight could have seen the wildlings come, milord. And be assured I will stall any inquiries the b***h queen Cersei Lannister may have concerning your allegiances.”

“Milady, your sentiments toward our gentle Queen Regent are quite well-known, especially by me.” Lord Karyl smiled at her. “I know you shall protect me as best you can, for you know that I have no allegiance to any one man or child, but to the Iron Throne itself. I care not whose arse is shredded by it, so long as Westeros is united and safe.”

The next seven days flew by on ravens's wings. Lord Karyl met for hours with Ser Hugo Farraway, his master of arms, and Maester Markron, and made plans for movement and transport. Each day another bannerman or two would arrive with their contingent, and soon there were five hundred men under Lord Karyl's colors. Each lord met with Lord Karyl and Ser Hugo, and were given their orders and placement.

The ride would be difficult, only because they could not take the Kingsroad, as Lord Roose Bolton and his now legitimate son Ramsay had turned cloak and allied with the Lannisters. There were many hundreds of Bolton and Frey men riding the Kingsroad on patrol, with hard questions for any group of more than a few riding in either direction. They would ride through the forests of the New Gift, until they reached the foothills of the Old Gift, take the mountain passes to the Wall, and then ride along the base until they reached Castle Black, and Stannis and Jon Snow.

Lady Maga had the staff at full boil. There was no lingering at the kitchen door, no loitering at the stable. Maga had trained her staff well, and they went about the preparations for the march with every bit the military precision of the war council. The kitchen was an inferno, with cooking fires and ovens ablaze. The stables and smithy were flooded with horses to feed and reshoe as the bannermen came in, so Maga had the field workers reaping extra hay and oats. She had her tailors and dressmakers set to making and repairing the tents of Lord Karyl's bannermen, to hold up better under the weight of the snow that was sure to come. Plus, she had to attend to the banquet to be held the night before the party left for the Wall. Lord Karyl had resisted at first, but Lady Maga held firm that the men deserved a proper meal and good mead before they headed out to war.

Then suddenly, it was the day of the banquet, and the day before the march. Lord Karyl declared that they would march at sunup, as much to spare the overtaxed kitchen staff a breakfast for five hundred as for expedience. The cooks and bakers finished the banquet foods, and gratefully headed for their mattresses for a welcome few hours of sleep.

The banquet was remarkably light-hearted and relaxed, considering what was to come in the following days. Lord Karyl's bards, and those of several bannermen, joined forces and kept the men singing along the night through. There was a fool named Cayman Whent hired for the occasion, and laughter followed around the room as he came and went. Lord Karyl and Lady Maga were in high spirits, for the taxing work of making ready was over. Lord Karyl began to feel the power that comes from the march and the battle, and was becoming anxious for the morrow to come.

Lady Maga leaned in close to Karyl. “I can feel the pulse of your blood from here. Mayhaps I should put a harness on some of that energy after the banquet.”

Lord Karyl laughed aloud. “Milady, you may try with all your skills to harness this horse, but I fear the stallion would throw you in an instant.”

A wicked smile. “Milord, I fear it has been too long since you've observed my riding abilities at close hand.”

“Too long, aye...but not so long that I've forgotten. I vow not to buck too hard.”

“As hard as you like and are able, milord.”

They smiled at each other, and returned their attention to he matters at hand. With the feast coming to an end, Lord Karyl, Ser Hugo and the bannermen had a few last-second details to review, and Lady Maga made her rounds to be assured that all was as ready as could be. A last round of ale was passed about to all the men, who then bedded down in their tents in the courtyard. Soon all was quiet but the brooms and the hushed voices of the cleaning girls in the grand hall.

Lady Maga was at her dressing table in a silken robe when Lord Karyl came in. There was a hint of her perfume still in the air as he knelt behind her, and gently kissed her neck. “You nearly make me forget my honor with your beauty, milady. How can a man possibly leave such a sight?”

She struck his hand on her shoulder lightly in jest. “Flatterer. Those words flow so nicely, you must have said them many times before.”

“That I have. But to only one woman ever.”

Lady Maga turned in her chair to face him. “I know, milord. I but tease you. It keeps my heart from breaking to know I still make you smile.” A solitary tear sparkled as a diamond on her cheek. “I know all the words a lady is to say here and now. Forgive me if I say none of them, for I believe them not. If the Gods allow your return to me, it shall pass. If they do not, I have a daughter to marry and a son to raise as the next Lord Unleashed. And forgive me my tears, milord. I shall miss you dearly until you come back to me.”

Lord Karyl wrapped her in his arms. He kissed the tear from her cheek, and said, “I shall miss you every day and every night I am gone, dear heart. I will not promise what I cannot be sure I can do. I love my life as I love you. For that love I will do all I can to live to return to you. The wildlings are fierce, but nowhere near as fierce as my passion for you, Maga. That I can promise.”

Her head dropped, and she said nothing. The silk flowed down off her shoulders, then her back, and onto the floor. She looked up into his eyes, smiled throught the last of her tears, and began to undress him.

The early morning darkness was scattered with the first light flakes of snow of late autumn. The dark green of the pines was blackness in the pre-dawn, and the oaks naked and shivering in the cold. Men were striking their tents and mounting their horses if they had them, and stowing their gear on the wagons if they did not. The fire in the center of the courtyard was being banked, and the servants were milling about loading the food and stores.

Lord Karyl came out in his armor to mount his destrier and inspect the ranks before heading out. Lady Maga, Jayne and Mychal walked him to the stable to see him off.

“Godspeed, milord,” Lady Maga said. “All will be well here upon your return.”

Karyl kissed her hand. “Keep yourself well, milady. Know that I love you.”

Jayne ran forward and hugged her father tightly. “I love you, Father. I pray that my Jonah is half so brave as you.”

He returned her embrace. “He is here, and he came before my messenger could return. It will be an honor to ride with him, Jayne. Know that I love you.”

Mychal stood shaking slightly, torn between a manly farewell and the hug a child would want. “Fa...milord, may the Warrior strengthen you, and the Crone show you wisdom.”

Karyl knelt, and held his arms out; his son ran sobbing into them. “Never be ashamed of your love for family, Mychal. Know that I love you.”

Drying his eyes, he looked his father in the eyes, and said, “Always do I love you, Father.”

Lord Karyl stood, put his hand upon Mychal's shoulder, and turned to mount his steed. He rode to the head of the mass of men as the first sun's light rose through the gently-falling snow, and struck the crystals like tiny prisms. His polished helm grew ruddy with the sunrise, as he called his bannermen to order, and gave the command to ride. Through the gate of Free Range keep they rode, then marched, the mules and wagons followed by the tail. Lady Maga and her childen joined the smallfolk in watching them all as the snow blurred, then hid them from their sight altogether.