was carried off to Winterfell a hostage, and so far as Lady Alannys was concerned he would always be ten years old, it seemed. 'Theon could not come,' Asha had to tell her. 'Father sent him reaving along the Stony Stone.' Lady Alannys had naught to say to that. She only nodded slowly, yet it was plain to see how deep her daughter's words had cut her.
And now I must tell her that Theon is dead, and drive yet another dagger through her heart. There were two knives buried there already. On the blades were writ the words Rodrik and Maron, and many a time they twisted cruelly in the night. / will see her on the morrow, Asha vowed to herself. Her journey had been long and wearisome, she could not face her mother now.
'I must speak with Lord Rodrik,' she told Three-Tooth. 'See to my crew, once they're done unloading Black Wind. They'll bring captives. I want them to have warm beds and a hot meal.'
'There's cold beef in the kitchens. And mustard in a big stone jar, from Oldtown.' The thought of that mustard made the old woman smile. A single long brown tooth poked from her gums.
'That will not serve. We had a rough crossing. I want something hot in their bellies.' Asha hooked a thumb through the studded belt about her hips. 'Lady Glover and the children should not want for wood nor warmth. Put them in some tower, not the dungeons. The babe is sick.'
'Babes are often sick. Most die, and folks are sorry. I shall ask my lord where to put these wolf folk.'
She caught the woman's nose between thumb and forefinger, and pinched. 'You will do as I say. And if this babe dies, no one will be sorrier than you.' Three-Tooth squealed and promised to obey, till Asha let her loose and went to find her uncle.
It was good to walk these halls again. Ten Towers had always felt like home to Asha, much more so than Pyke. Not one castle, ten castles squashed together, she had thought, the first time she had seen it. She remembered breathless races up and down the steps and along waflwalks and covered bridges, fishing off the Long Stone Quay, days and nights lost amongst her uncle's wealth of books. His grandfather's grandfather had raised the castle, the newest on the isles. Lord Theomore Harlaw had lost three sons in the cradle and laid the blame upon the flooded cellars, damp stones, and festering nitre of ancient Harlaw Hall. Ten Towers was airier, more comfortable, better sited.. . but Lord Theomore was a changeable man, as any of his wives might have testified. He'd had six of those, as dissimilar as his ten towers.
TheBookTowerwas the fattest of the ten, octagonal in shape and made with great blocks of hewn stone. The stair was built within the thickness of the walls. Asha climbed quickly, to the fifth storey and the room where her uncle read. Not that there are any rooms where he does not read. Lord Rodrik was seldom seen without a bool in hand, be it in the privy, on the deck of his Sea Song, or whilst holding audience. Asha had oft seen him reading on his high seat beneath the silver scythes. He would listen to each case as it was laid before him, pronounce his judgement… and read a bit whilst his captain-of-guards went to bring in the next supplicant.
She found him hunched over a table by a window, surrounded by parchment scrolls that might have come from Valyria before its Doom and heavy leather-bound books with bronze and iron hasps. Beeswax candles as thick and tall as a man's arm burned on either side of where he sat, on ornate iron holders. Lord Rodrik Harlaw was neither fat nor slim; neither tall nor short; neither ugly nor handsome. His hair was brown, as were his eyes, though the short, neat beard he favored had gone grey. All in all, he was an ordinary man, distinguished only by his love of written words, which so many ironborn found unmanly and perverse.
'Nuncle.' She closed the door behind her. 'What reading was so urgent that you leave your guests without a host?'
'Archmaester Marwyn's Book of Lost Books.' He lifted his gaze from the page to study her. 'Hotho brought me a copy from Oldtown. He has a daughter he would have me wed.' Lord Rodrik tapped the book with a long nail. 'See here? Marwyn claims to have found three pages of Signs and Portents, visions written down by the maiden daughter of Aenar Targaryen before the Doom came to Valryia. Does Lanny know that you are here?'
'Not as yet.' Lanny was his pet name for her mother; only the Reader called her that. 'Let her rest.' Asha moved a stack of books off a stool, and seated herself. 'Three-Tooth seems to have lost two more of her teeth. Do you call her One-Tooth now?'
'I seldom call her at all. The woman frightens me. What hour is it?' Lord Rodrik glanced out the window, at the moonlit sea. 'Dark, so soon? I had not noticed. You come late. We looked for you some days ago.'
'The winds were against us, and I had captives to concern me. Robett Glover's wife and children. The youngest is still at the breast, and Lady Glover's milk dried up during our crossing. I had no choice but to beach Black Wind upon theStonyShoreand send my men out to find a wet nurse. They found a goat instead. The girl does not thrive. Is there a nursing mother in the village? Deepwood is important to my plans.'
'Your plans must change. You come too late.'
'Late and hungry.' She stretched her long legs out beneath the table, and turned the pages of the nearest book, a septon's discourse on Maegor the Gruel's war against the Poor Fellows. 'Oh, and thirsty too. A horn of ale would go down well, nuncle.'
Lord Rodrik pursed his lips. 'You know I do not permit food nor drink in my library. The books-'
'-might suffer harm.' Asha laughed.
Her uncle frowned. 'You do like to provoke me.'
'Oh, don't look so aggrieved. I have never met a man I didn't provoke, you should know that well enough by now. But enough of me. You are well?'
He shrugged. 'Well enough. My eyes grow weaker. I have sent to Myr for a lens to help me read.'
'And how fares my aunt?'
Lord Rodrik sighed. 'Still seven years my elder, and convinced Ten Towers should be hers. Gwynesse grows forgetful, but that she does not forget. She mourns for her dead husband as deeply as she did the day he died, though she cannot always recall his name.'
'I am not certain she ever knew his name.' Asha closed the septon's book with a thump. 'Was my father murdered?'
'So your mother believes'
There were times when she would gladly have murdered him herself, she thought. 'And what does my nuncle believe?'
'Balon fell to his death when a rope bridge broke beneath him. A storm was rising, and the bridge was swaying and twisting with each gust of wind.' Rodrik shrugged. 'Or so we are told. Your mother had a bird from Maester Wendamyr.'
Asha slid her dirk out of its sheath, and began to clean the dirt from beneath her fingernails. 'Three years away, and the Crow's Eye returns the very day my father dies.'
'The day after, we had heard. Silence was still out to sea when Balon died, or so it is claimed. Even so, I will agree that Euron's return was… timely, shall we say?'
'That is not how I would say it.' Asha slammed the point of the dirk into the table. 'Where are my ships? I countedtwo scorelongships moored below, not near enough to throw the Crow's Eye off my father's chair.'
'I sent the summons. In your name, for the love I bear you and your mother. House Harlaw has gathered. Stonetree as well, and Volmark, Some Myres…'
'All from the isle of Harlaw… one isle, out of seven. I saw one lonely Botley banner in the hall, from Pyke. Where are the ships from Saltcliffe, from Orkwood, from the Wyks?'
'Baelor Blacktyde came from Blacktyde to consult with me, and just as soon set sail again.' Lord Rodrik closed The Book of Lost Books. 'He is on Old Wyk by now.'
'Old Wyk?' Asha had feared he was about to say that they all gone to Pyke, to do homage to the Crow's Eye. 'Why Old Wyk?'
'I thought you would have heard. Aeron Damphair has called a kingsmoot.'
Asha threw back her head and laughed. 'The Drowned God must have shoved a pricklefish up Uncle Aeron's arse. A kingsmoot?! s this some jape, or does he mean it truly?'
'The Damphair has not japed since he was drowned. And the other priests have taken up the call. Blind Beron Blacktyde, Tarle the Thrice-Drowned,.. even the Old Grey Gull has left that rock he lives on, to preach this kingsmoot all across Harlaw. The captains are gathering on Old Wyk as we speak.'
Asha was astonished. 'Has the Crow's Eye agreed to attend this holy farce and abide by its decision?'
'The Crow's Eye does not confide in me. Since he summoned me to Pyke to do him homage, I have had no word from Euron.'
