Game of Thrones : Winter Lord

Storm's End

"Finally, we're off the ship."

The Mill Liberty had sailed through the waves for a day and a night before docking on the coast of Storm's End around noon, when the sun stood high in the sky.

After dropping anchor, they used a small boat to reach the shore.

Cole couldn't sleep well on deck or in the cabin like the Onion Knight. He was often awakened by the ship's rocking—sailing remained a risky venture. If a storm arose, human efforts became useless against nature's fury.

During the Battle of the Blackwater, the Royal Fleet had encountered a storm that destroyed many ships.

"Lord Cole." Ser Camillo greeted him on the shore, accompanied by dozens of knights.

Cole shook his cloak, and the flaming white direwolf with gray-black edges had absorbed much seawater, splashing droplets as he shook it twice.

"You look well, Ser Camillo." Cole patted the knight's breastplate.

Camillo had chosen a silver pomfret as his emblem, while Ser Davos had chosen a sword.

Cole had provided each knight with complete armor, from the leather padding and chain mail beneath to the outer plate. Camillo now stood before him in full regalia.

He grinned. "My lord, I bathed to welcome you. I even used the perfume Maester Gilbert gave me."

"Bathing is a good habit. Frequent bathing can prevent illness." Cole knew bathing was rare for most. Even prostitutes who sold their beauty might not bathe several times a year.

A servant brought Cole's horse—a gentle-tempered mount carefully selected by the stable master.

Camillo walked beside him as the horse slowly carried Cole toward Storm's End. "Has anything happened at the castle during my absence?" Cole asked.

"The Cotoin and Leville families from the Riverlands sent envoys to ransom their knights. Ser Farin received them in the hall, but we dared not make any decisions without your approval."

Cole calculated mentally. "How much did they offer?"

The Riverlands occupied fertile southern territories and were historically wealthy. He could demand a high price—though truthfully, it might be better if the knights remained prisoners. Once ransomed, they could become enemies on future battlefields.

"We captured two knights from House Cotoin. They're willing to pay 600 gold dragons for the men and 100 for their armor. House Leville offers only 100 gold dragons for their knights."

"House Leville's knights are worth only 100 dragons? I believe they'd be more valuable served at a feast."

The salty coastal wind whistled around them, making even Cole feel the chill. "How proceeds the tax collection?" During his absence, the castle had been gathering agricultural taxes from the surrounding lands. "You didn't collect from the tax-exempt villages, did you?"

"Ser Farin has overseen all that. My lord, as you know, Ser Davos and I can't recognize a single letter, let alone understand those numbers." Camillo's expression turned slightly bitter.

"Beyond honing your combat skills, you should learn to read." Cole felt helpless that his two most loyal knights remained illiterate.

Storm's End's gatehouse remained tightly closed, its drawbridge raised high. The ancient, mottled stone walls still bore the scars of war—bloodstains absorbed into the stone, alongside scorch marks from fire.

Stonemasons had repaired many damaged sections. Cole had also ordered the moat widened and wooden spikes placed in the area connecting to the drawbridge.

The banners of the crowned stag and his own flaming white direwolf fluttered above the battlements and towers.

By law, he now held the right to rule this castle. After marrying Shireen, they would jointly govern the territory and its vassals.

Simultaneously, he held authority from Summerhall to Greenstone. Should Shireen die before him, he would hold both titles: Duke of Storm's End and Marquis of Summerhall.

Of course, this assumed Stannis could be crowned king in King's Landing. Currently, beyond Dragonstone and Storm's End, no one recognized Stannis's claim—or even Cole's knighthood.

The War of the Five Kings had reached a lull. The Lannisters, Tyrells, and Dorne had declared an alliance, jointly supporting Joffrey as king.

The Riverlands lay in chaos, the North fought to expel the Ironborn, and the Vale had closed the Bloody Gate, standing apart like a fortress untouched.

The fighting appeared temporarily paused—the calm before the storm.

But this peace couldn't last. The worst was yet to come.

Ser Davos stood guard on the wall, his longsword and banner placed beside the flaming white direwolf.

As the drawbridge slowly lowered, Davos and Gilbert led dozens of spearmen to greet them.

"I hope you're not busy wearing armor instead of preparing my meal," Cole joked. "I've eaten nothing but fish for two days aboard ship. I urgently need apple pie, bacon, and of course, wine."

"Lord Snow, the castle has prepared a feast," Gilbert said with a bright smile. "The ravens brought news of your arrival, so we've dressed properly to welcome you."

"Let's go then. I'm eager to see what surprise you've arranged." Cole walked ahead.

The betrothal ceremony on Dragonstone had been extremely simple—a bonfire lit on the shore, the marriage contract announced under the witness of the Lord of Light, R'hllor.

Cole grew slightly drunk in Storm's End's great hall. Later, he returned to his chamber at the top of the tower and asked servants to bring water to splash on his face and sober himself.

He sat quietly before a wooden table scattered with parchment scrolls—the place where he typically handled correspondence delivered by ravens.

Taking up a quill, he dipped it in ink and wrote a letter. He lit a candle, dripped wax onto the sealed envelope, and pressed his emblem—the fire-breathing white direwolf—into the hot wax.

Afterward, he walked to the maester's tower. No one lived there now; usually only two servants responsible for feeding the ravens visited.

In the raven cages, more than a dozen birds hopped about. Most flew to Dragonstone. Before the war, hundreds of ravens had resided here, but few remained now.

The servant named Hagen had previously assisted Storm's End's maester. He knew these birds well.

Cole took the meat barrel from him, lifted minced meat with tongs, and tossed it into the cages. The ravens immediately fluttered over, fighting for the food.

After feeding them awhile, Cole returned the barrel to Hagen. "Are there any birds here that know the way to the Wall?"

"Wall! Wall!" a raven called out, mimicking his words.

"Yes, my lord. Two ravens know the path to the Wall." The servant pointed toward two birds.

To Cole, they all looked identical. Though he had cared for ravens briefly in the past, his duties had involved only feeding them.

Cole caught the birds, placed them in separate cages, and carried them back to his chamber.

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