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(Continued from Godwyn Explores Marshend)

Meanwhile, Anniketta's welcoming smile when a customer entered the inn glowed into something warmer when she saw that it was Gabriel.

Gabriel paused and whistled before entering the inn; Mist trotted in from around a nearby building, and he scratched her behind the ears while she closed her mouth around his forearm. He wasn't worried about the reaction from townsfolk, or even the Giants, as most of them knew Mist was his.

The soldiers were another matter, however, and Gabriel kept his hand firmly tangled in the ruff around the direwolf's neck. He spoke a few calming words to Mist, realized that he was grinning like an idiot in response to Anniketta's smile, and tried to behave.

Just past the performer's ear was a shelf, and if he remembered, a dusty jug... he reached with his other hand to pull it down, pulled the cork out with his teeth, and found two nearby mugs to fill. One finger for him, one... no, three for Anniketta; he raised his mug and said, "So... is it congratulations? I hear you've inherited an inn." The smile returned. "Me, I've just been running about town, thinking about how to rebuild... and strangely, wondering how you were."

Anniketta's smile glowed; Davin grabbed another tray of beers and shuffled out again.

"This isn't your old inn," she began. "But ... perhaps ... if the Giants work on it - you might be able to take it for your own. The townspeople want you here, you know." And then her eyes lowered before his.

"I... guess they do," Gabriel said. "At least, they can't seem to make any decisions when I'm not around. That worries me. The Giants got them organized and interested, and for that, I am grateful." He leaned in a little closer and dropped his voice. "But you're leaving, aren't you? Not tomorrow, maybe, not a week from now, but eventually."

Her smile faded a little.

"Gabriel - it's our way," she said softly. "Could you see me as a settled village woman with a shawl over my head and patterns on my feet, shuffling through the mud and snow?"

He smiled, in spite of himself.

Her hand reached out towards him. "Teach your villagers to fight for themselves, and come with us. Let's fly south before the winter. There's good living to be had in the south ... "

Gabriel took her hand in his, then looked in her eyes. "You make it sound really tempting," he said. "And I'll wager I've been a mummer as long as most of the Giants. In today's farce, I play a man who knows what he's doing."

He finished the last of his drink; it burned all the way down. Still, silently, he thanked the old ex-maester that had shown him the secret of brewing drink from corn and wheat. "The young lord tells me that Hardy had not been supporting the increase in taxes," he said. "Now that they've finally decided to pay attention to this village, there will be order. And a lot more soldiers. Finally, perhaps, they won't need me the way they have." He raised an eyebrow. "You've helped us out this far... it's time you should know a little more of the story. How well can you keep a secret?"

Her smile was a little twisted. "I can only prove that by telling something of what lies near to my heart," she said. "I can be trusted, Gabriel. And I have been before now."

She spoke with simple conviction.

"All right," Gabriel said, but still hesitated. "Look- you've seen Marshend. They've been swamped with duties and taxes from two different Houses. Even with the lake and road traffic, no one but the wealthy could afford something like that." He took a breath. "There's been someone helping them out. When people needed it the most, they've had a friend. Someone who would leave the tax money with them. Of course, being so... helpful... would bankrupt even the wealthy. So the money, that would have to come from nefarious means. Smuggling, of course." He smiled. "The best part, that is. Robbing the Lords' excise taxes in order to pay the Lords' property taxes. You'd need someone with a certain cunning to keep that up for years and years."

"A certain cunning," agreed Anniketta, her eyes sparkling. "Yes. Indeed. And with a talent for leadership. To keep people working together ... secretly."

"I suppose he would," Gabriel said. "Or she... but from what I've heard, it's a 'he'. Suprising, isn't it, that he'd inspire that kind of loyalty from his people, considering the reprehensible business they seem to be in. But it's not your typical band of smugglers, is it? It would be people who were trying to save their homes, who cared about their neighbors and the village they lived in." He paused. "But who knows... now that Hardy is finally paying attention, perhaps that's all done with. Perhaps that friend of ours, he can retire, knowing that he at least made a difference."

"Perhaps," agreed Anniketta. "But life here in Marshend might prove a little ... dull for such a man, don't you think? If he decided to retire." Her eyes lowered. "Or perhaps he has other ties to hold him here," she added softly.

"No," Gabriel said, "I don't believe he does." He gave her a crooked little smile. "Though if he does leave Marshend, he might have to do a thing or three before he would feel ready to look after his own... wants."

Her head tilted a little to one side as she regarded him. "But of course," she said. "And it might help ... if he had ... friends? Resourceful friends?"

"Friends are always helpful," Gabriel replied. "Resourceful is even better. But, of course, they might be tired of helping him out already."

Anniketta smiled. "No," she said. "No, I don't think. "Not if he has excited the ... interest of the Giants of Pentos." She glanced down at the hands working busily on polshing tankards as she stood at the rudimentary bar. "Perhaps ... in some cases ... the warm interest ... "

Gabriel reached out to take one of Anniketta's hands in his. He was fast enough to keep the tankard from dropping.

"Then I'd say he was a lucky man indeed," he said.

She looked up at him, and her smile widened. "So ... how long will it take for ... this man to resolve all his arrangments? And how can we help?"

"That's a tough question," Gabriel said. "Not knowing the man, of course... but I'd say he may need to take a little trip. Long enough that he may have to catch up with the Giants in another town."

The door of the inn opened, and Godwyn Hardy walked in. He looked around, and then headed with a determined stride for Gabriel and Anniketta.

"Your pardon," he said to Anniketta, "But could you remind me of what you were saying earlier about there being a Snow in Marshend?"

Anniketta looked up, startled, at Gabriel, and then busied herself with polishing the tankard again.

Gabriel blinked. "Did you, now?" he said, and turned. "A Snow? Here? Marshend isn't usually on the top of a lord's visiting list. Ah, my Lord."

Godwyn nodded. "I heard a story about a girl called Rosathorn," he said. "Who had a babe. Then I remembered Anniketta telling me about a Snow here in the village. I'd assumed he was a Draupaud, or maybe even a Bolton, of course, and I didn't pay as much attention as I should. But old Jenny, she was pretty definite about it being a Hardy. That makes it different."

"Old Jenny," Gabriel continued dryly, "is also pretty definite that there's untold treasure buried all over the fens. Someone must have gotten her drunk."

Anniketta's head was still bent over the tankard - but her lips quivered a little.

"Treasure?" Godwyn asked, momentarily distracted. "There's treasure in the fens?" Then he shook his head, and returned to the topic at hand. "About the Snow, though, I remembered Aniketta mentioning him to me. So it's not just Old Jenny. There's more to it. And the boy said that she did have a daughter as died, this Rosathorn girl." He shook his head again. "If there is a b@stard son of the Hardy line here, then we have a responsibility to him. And I need to find out who he is. And..." he paused, then bulled ahead. "And who his father is."

"A respon-" Gabriel cut himself off, and suddenly looked very, very wary. "I think M'lord may be a bit... er... optimistic. Aye, we've all heard about a Rose, but after she died Old Jenny has been a little unhinged, if you know what I mean. All we have is her word about what happened to her daughter."

He turned and leaned a little heavily on the makeshift bar. Pouring another shot and downing it was automatic. "But I see that you're intent on this, my Lord. So let's suppose there is a Snow in Marshend. Somewhere. Let's even go so far as to say it's a Hardy. How does that change anything? No Hardy's going to be happy to admit a b@stard. Think a few moves ahead in the game. Think of the repercussions. And this Snow, whoever it is, he or she's had a whole lifetime in Marshend to see the tender mercies of the Hardys and the Draupauds and the Boltons. Could be they'd prefer to be left alone."

Godwyn looked stubborn, an expression that came naturally to his face. "Hardy doesn't shirk its responsibilites," he said. "And if he does want to be left alone..." he thought a moment, then said, "Well, I suppose I can understand that. Hardy hasn't done its duty by Marshend, that's true. Mayhap I can even see why some argue it should be Draupaud land, if it was like this when Stark created the new fellow as Draupaud." He frowned. "Be that as it may, this is Hardy land, and a man with Hardy blood in his veins has a claim to some recognition from the family. I wouldn't want to go to the Wall knowing there was an injustice left behind that I had heard of, and done nothing to repair."

Anniketta started slightly at this, and looked up. "They're sending you to the Wall?" she said, shocked. "What have you done?"

Gabriel, too, looked up and to Godwyn with raised eyebrows.

Godwyn laughed at her expression. "I can see how that must seem strange to a Southerner," he said. "But the Hardys have always led by example. We believe in the Wall, what it stands for, what it defends us against. There has always been a Hardy on the Wall, and there will always be one." He shook his head. "It shouldn't be that only criminals and unwanted sons go there. Men should go from a sense of duty. Some must sacrifice, that all may live." He shrugged, "As for why me, well, I'm a second son. I have two uncles, neither of whom had sons of their own. One serves on the wall now. So for my generation, I am the one marked for the Wall. I've known that for most of my life."

His smile grew gentle, and he said in a kindly voice, "Don't think I am being forced to this. It is a duty I will accept willingly, when it is time."

"It is an admirable sentiment, my Lord," Gabriel said. "A pity that so much of that old valor has been lost, and the Wall has picked up such a foul connotation." His eyebrows raised again, as if he had suddenly thought of something.

"It does beg the question, however... if you did unearth a Snow in Marshend, and it did turn out to be a Hardy... if Lord Hardy wished to keep you around instead of this new unwanted b@stard, isn't it possible he might force this Snow to go to the Wall in your place?"

"Ha!" Godwyn answered. "Now that would send a pretty message to the rest of the North about how serious to take the Wall, wouldn't it? Use it as a dumping ground for the misdeeds of your youth." He shook his head yet again. "No, just as my brother won't wait till our younger half-brother grows up and send him in my place, so we won't send this Snow, if there is any such person."

He glanced around then, to make sure no one else was close enough to hear, and then leaned closer to the two of them and spoke in a lower voice. "Truth be told, I'm hoping there is such a man, and that I find he can be trusted. Snows are usually not trustworthy people, born out of lust and secrecy as they are, but I hope the Hardy blood will overcome that. My father is dreadful ill, and..." he paused, and a look of sadness crossed his face before it was replaced by a look of determination, and he continued, "...and his recovery may be long in coming. My brother has been fostered in the South, and is newly returned to find many problems at Holdfast, and he is going to need aid. And now, with this traitorous Bolton causing problems for us, well, it becomes political." There was venom in his voice at the word. "I'm no good with that sort of thing. Hardy needs all its sons now."

"Politics is a weapon, my Lord," Gabriel said. "You have to learn to use it, just like a sword. It is far more common than baring steel, for every time you have more than two people together, there will be politics." He smiled, and glanced at Anniketta.

There was a faint smile on Anniketta's face, as she nodded at Gabriel's words.

"And you should be sure that this Snow you seek can deal with such affairs," she said. "As a Snow, he will probably be rough and quarrelsome, unused to the ways of nobles. A man like that might hinder the Hardy cause far more than he could help it."

Godwyn chuckled. "Heh," he said, "He'd have go a far ways to be more hardheaded than I. But you're right, I should learn that. It's why I'm asking you two about him. You, Anniketta, you told me about him, so I thought you might know more. And you, innkeeper, everyone says you're the man everyone in town looks to. So I thought if anyone knows who the Snow is, and what sort of man he is, it would be you."

Gabriel hesitated. "I can tell you that this Snow, if there is one, probably won't come to you. After a lifetime of being left alone, they'd be... wary."

"Huh," Godwyn answered. He looked around the tavern then, as though expecting to see an obvious Hardy sitting at one of the tables. "Aye," he said finally. "I can see the sense of what you say. But I don't see what I can do. Even if I do find him, if what you say about his wariness is true, he'd be like to run if I tried to talk to him."

He shook his head once again. It seemed to be something he did often. "My brother would know what to do," he said mournfully.

"Which brother?" said Anniketta, almost gently. "Your noble brother, or this Snow? For it seems to me ... if this Snow is truly your brother ... he'll know what to do, too - once he knows you seek him."

She glanced up at Gabriel. "Isn't that the truth of it?"

Gabriel frowned. "He'll know what to do," he said. "A chance to really make a difference here in Marshend, too... if he abandons everything else that matters." His eyes met hers, for a long moment, and then he suddenly looked at Godwyn. "If memory serves, your brother is Kenrith? The one fostered with the Tullys?"

"Aye," Godwyn answered. "He came back just now. 'Cause of our Da's..." he seemed to search for the right words. "...His not being well," he finished. "But he was even worse when Kenrith got here. Ser Kenrith now," he snorted. Then looked abashed. "Not that I'm not proud of his being knighted," he added. "It shows they honoured him down South. And my father and my uncle, they're both knights as well.

 Stark says it's good for our nobles to be knights, makes the South

respect us more." He snorted again. "As though that means anything."

He looked puzzled then, and said, "But we weren't talking about knights, were we? We were talking about this Snow." He looked at Anniketta, and said. "Wait. My brother, you said? You really think it was my father, not one of my uncles? I was thinking it would be a cousin."

Anniketta gazed down at her hands and frowned, as though they had done something unexpected.

"Your father was here," she said. "In the village, when he was a young man. The townspeople speak of it still, as a good time. Those who remember those days, that is. The older ones."

"Well, aye, that's so," Godwyn said. "But my uncles have visited Marshend from time to time. Even I was here once or twice, when I was very young. And when my father was sent here by my grandfather, well, that was long ago. Back before he was married." His expression suddenly changed, as he realized what he said. "Aye," he said slowly. "When my father lived here, it was when he was a young man. Before he married."

Gabriel didn't miss a beat, but had produced another mug and poured another shot for all three of them.

He took another drink without flinching.

"It doesn't matter, now does it?" he asked. "Lord Hardy would have to legitimize the Snow for any of that to matter. All these years, and he didn't." He smiled slightly, looking ahead at nothing. "If there was a b@stard."

Godwyn shrugged, and his face took on a distant look. He took a large drink from the mug and nodded his thanks to Gabriel. "I wonder..." he said, then stopped. He shrugged again, and looked uncomfortable.

Gabriel's eyebrows rose. "Yes, m'Lord?"

Anniketta looked at Godwyn with polite interest, although she said nothing.

Godwyn looked uncomfortable, then finally blurted out, "Do you know whether the babe's mother died in childbirth? It sounded from what Jenny said that she might have. She said she gave the babe to the Septon. My own mother, she died when I was born. My father took it hard."

Gabriel sighed. "Rose died suddenly, 'tis said," he replied. "It broke old Jenny. She's had... people... to care for her, ever since. The baby would have been an orphan. Hardy gone, Rose dead, Jenny insane, no one would be left to take it hard. No one to ask questions, either. So your b@stard Hardy would have grown up taking care of himself. Whatever he has, he's built it up from nothing. Which is all his father left with him." He blinked, glanced at his cup, and mumbled, "this stuff gets strong with age."

Godwyn drained his own cup, then stared at it, trying to remember how many he'd had this morning. He shrugged and looked at Gabriel. "One son left to fend for himself, another sent off to the South because his arm was crippled by the summer fever, and a third he'd barely talk to, because he killed his own mother in coming into the world. Da was a piece of work, all right. There are times I hardly care if he recovers." He blinked, and looked startled at what he'd just said.

Anniketta reached out a hand towards him as though in sympathy, and then hesitated.

"Not many children were orphans back then," Gabriel said. "Not in Marshend, anyway. Not around that time."

"Huh?" Godwyn came out of his reverie, and looked at Gabriel blankly. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Anniketta was silent.

"You appear to be resourceful. You'll eventually find out," Gabriel said. "The question is, how much trouble will you cause before you get there? Let me save you, and the townspeople, that trouble. There were orphaned children about that time. All, save one, had their parents accounted for."

"Uh, bide a moment," Godwyn said, looked confused. "If they found their parents, then they weren't orphans, were they?"

"Whether the parents were dead or missing... at least they knew who the children were," Gabriel said.

"Ah," Godwyn said, something related to understanding in his voice. "So then this one babe that no one know who its parents were, that would have been the Hardy Snow, then." He nodded. "This is like one of Maester Sewell's logic puzzles. You don't have to be really smart to figure it out, just determined enough."

He looked at Gabriel. "You know who he is, don't you?"

Once more, Anniketta was silent. This time, her eyes were lowered, not even looking at Gabriel or Godwyn.

"This one child, he took up with an ex-maester named Kenneth," Gabriel said by way of an answer. "When he was old enough, of course. Worked in the bazaar, learned to use the scales and watch over transactions and review accounting books, that sort of thing."

"Huh," Godwyn said. He thought about that a moment, then said, "Becoming a maester's not a bad fate for a Snow, I suppose. 'Tis not something a Hardy would usually do."

"I didn't think so," Gabriel replied. "He didn't like it. He went on to do other things. But his quality came through. For instance, he's the only other man to tame Mist besides myself." Gabriel snapped his fingers, and the direwolf stood up from where she was resting and came over to get her ears scratched.

He looked steadily at Anniketta as he said, "His name is Keary. He works for me."

Anniketta gave a faint nod, her face grave.

Godwyn was staring down at Mist, a big grin on his face. "She's gorgeous," he said, clearly diverted from the topic at hand for the moment. "Does she allow strangers to greet her?'

Anniketta glanced up at Gabriel, and smiled.

Gabriel hesitated, which made Mist's ears perk up, but he nodded. "Mist, sit. Good girl. Plant." The huge wolf sat on her haunches, tongue lolling out.

Godwyn knelt and held out a hand, palm down, about a foot away from Mist. "Well met, Mist," he said in a low, soothing voice. "Who is a beautiful, dangerous girl, then, hmm? You are, aren't you? Yes, you are."

Mist panted, looking between Godwyn and Gabriel. "That's it," he said, "come on. Kiss." Godwyn's hand was suddenly wet from a huge snuffling nose, then a quick lick from a rasping tongue, then Mist sat back. Gabriel gave a relieved sigh.

"What a good girl," Godwyn crooned. He stood slowly, still smiling and looking at her. "She must be a wonder to hunt with," he said. Then he looked back at Gabriel. "So, Keary? Is that his name? He works for you?"

Anniketta continued to watch.

Gabriel nodded. "Keary is the one you want to talk to," he said. "When you can find him. But he came to find me... he should still be around. Somewhere."

"Right, then," Godwyn said firmly. Then he thought about it for a moment, and continued, more tentatively, "Look, I understand what you said about him mayhaps not wanting anything to do with the family, having been left on his own and making his own way so long. But he should know that we will find a place for him." He barked out a short laugh. "Gods, with all that going on, another sword arm would not go amiss. And that maester's training, that could come in useful as well."

He chewed his lip, then said, "What about this? He works for you, you should see him soon, right? You can tell him that I'm here." Godwyn said this with no hint of irony, clearly it simply hadn't occurred to him that it was unlikely in the extreme that anyone in the village would not be aware of the presence of a Hardy in town. Perhaps he was not used to the gossip of the small folk. Or perhaps he simply didn't think these things through.

"Let him know I'm here," Godwyn repeated. "And let him know that I'd like to talk to him. If he truly wants nothing to do with us, well, then, I'll not force him."

"In the mean-time," said Anniketta, "did you not send to Gabriel so that he could speak to the villagers for you?"

"Indeed," Gabriel said. "What is it that they need to hear?"

"Aye," Godwyn answered. "That's more important than the other right now. We need to be ready for when these outlaws return. I was thinking it would be best of we can have the men hidden somehow, lure the bandits in, then attack them, perhaps leaving an escape for them into the marsh. Those that we don't kill, we can let the marsh have."

"But I need more information about them. How many, how they're armed, what people heard them say. Such like as that. And I've watched my father and uncle, and our captain of the guard, with the small folk, and one thing I've seen is that people feel better if they think they've been allowed their say. So I want to give everyone a chance to speak. But I need someone who can bring order to this, so it isn't just shouting and arguing. Everyone seems to respect you, and it seems to me that you're the man to see that everyone gets a chance to talk, but without there being any waste of time. And mayhap you can help me understand what it is I'm hearing from the people, since you know the village better than I?"

"I can facilitate, if it will speed things along," Gabriel said. "Ah... where will your soldiers be staying? You're suggesting that they stay in the village, if I hear this right. It will be difficult to convince everyone to keep a soldier or two in their homes..."

"Difficult, mayhap, but necessary," Godwyn answered. "Where else would we stay? If it's obvious we're here, the outlaws will merely wait until we leave before they return. And if we camp somewhere far enough away that they won't spot us, then how are we to return quickly enough to stop them when they return?" He shook his head. "Not that I want to fight them fair in any case. Better we can fall upon them by surprise, when they think themselves facing nothing but frightened villagers."

"Would have put them up myself, but..." Gabriel let that go. "Well. We'll see how it plays out."

"Let's go and hear their stories, find out what we can about these outlaws," Godwyn said. "Once I know enough to make a plan, I'll know what I need from your neighbors. I hope you can help me with them, I know there may be some hard feelings about the long neglect from Holdfast. And whoever has been collecting taxes in our name." He shook his head, then stepped away from the bar. "Come on," he said. "We've spent enough time talking."

Gabriel had a slight, mysterious smile. "Lead on," he said.

Hours later, Gabriel upended the last of the jug into glasses for the three of them. "That," he said in a hoarse voice, "wasn't easy. But they'll go for it."

Godwyn shook his head and took a long swallow. "My uncle and Ser Anders make it look so easy," he complained. "They tell the smallfolk what to do, and they bloody well do it."

He set the glass back down and looked at Gabriel. "Thank you," he said. "Without your aid I would have lost my temper with these good people. And they don't deserve that, not after what they've been through."

Gabriel nodded, then looked away. "Somehow, I can't really explain it, I feel... that I've betrayed them." His shoulders hunched a moment. "Even though I know I've helped them. We'll see how things go, I suppose."

"Huh?" Godwyn looked confused. "What do you mean?" he asked. "You're just helping me to protect them. I don't understand."

"Everyone here is very... independent," Gabriel continued. "That's all. They're used to handling things themselves. Like me... my inn is burned to the ground, and it's only natural that I handle the problem on my own."

"I understand that," Godwyn said with a nod. "But look what happened when they were attacked by bandits, and a Hardy came riding in. It was, 'Help us, my lord,' right off. Let's say that all the noble families decided hands off Marshend, we're not going to tax them, we're not going to demand their loyalty, and we're not going to protect them. All fine and good for the smallfolk while summer lasts, and as long as no bandits show up. But when outlaws learn that no nobles will come to aid the village when they're attacked, what then? When winter comes, and the wildings sneak over the wall and come south in force, what then?" He shook his head. "The north is a hard place, Gabriel, you know that. There's a reason folk have lords."

Gabriel looked as if he were about to respond, but swallowed something internally and nodded instead. "As you say, my Lord."

He reached for Anniketta's hand, said, "Tomorrow, I'll help arrange the details of the deal struck tonight. Point Keary in your direction if I see him... then continue with what I was doing for my inn." He smiled. "But all that will be tomorrow."

"Aye," Godwyn said with a nod. "I should walk the rounds, talk with the guards we've set to be certain we aren't surprised tonight. And remind all the men to behave themselves." He stood. "Thank you, Gabriel, you've been a great aid." He held out his hand to the man.

"A pleasure, my Lord," Gabriel said automatically, taking the hand. "Good luck to you. To all of us."

"Aye," Godwyn said again. He released Gabriel's hand and nodded to Anniketta. "Mistress," he said warmly. "It was a pleasure to meet you." Then he looked down at Mist. "And who's a good girl?" he asked. "Who's just the best, most dangerous girl there is? Who? Why it's Mist, isn't it? She is. Yes, she is!"

He smiled at Gabriel and Aniketta once, more, then headed out the door to check on his men, and the village, before seeking his own bed on a rooftop that gave a good view of the surrounding territory in all directions.

(Continued in Morning Inside Marshend)