A Game of Thrones - Winter Chills | AGameOfThrones-WinterChills / Holdfast Summer Fair: Feeding the Bears browse

Syndra did not have to be told twice. "Perhaps we'll see the bear after all," she said to Trey as she hustled him to his feet. Taking Trey's hand firmly, she stepped in next to Rhys. Gavrin could be embarrassed all he wanted - she was staying with the older boys until they were away from the brutal knight.

"Bears!" said Trey in delight, and began to attempt to drag Syndra forward in a hopefully bearward direction.

Gavrin hesitated, shooting a look at his mentor, Godwyn. If Godwyn wanted to stay, then that was what Gavrin would do as well.

Godwn hesitated a long moment, torn between his obediance to his brother and his desire to run after him. Finally he said, "Kenrith will see justice done, Gavrin. He's the heir. That's what the heir does."

Rhys watched Kenrith walk across the field, then turned back to the group and smiled. "C'mon. Let's go look for the bear." He hoisted Trey onto his shoulders and led the others away.

Syndra smiled back at him. Rhys didn't seem to mind having a girl and a small boy tag along with them. He almost seemed to like it. She couldn't suppress her grin as she walked along beside him. If Gavrin had a problem with it, he could go play with Godwyn by himself.

The bear pit had been excavated to one side of the meadow, deep - with steep sides. And inside were three bears - two adults and a cub. Trey bounced up and down on Rhys' shoulders so much that he was in danger of falling off.

"Feed 'em!" he shouted.

And indeed, a ferret-faced man was stationed close by, selling three buns for a farthing.

"You keep bouncing like that and YOU'LL be the food," Syndra warned her brother. "Wait here with Rhys. I'll go buy some." She trotted off to the vendor and offered a copper for three buns.

The man took the copper and half raised it towards his sharp teeth as though intending to bite it and test its worthiness. But a glance at Syndra had him lowering the coin into his pouch before handing her the buns and three farthing in return.

Godwyn peered down at the bears and began discussing their apparent health and well-being with Gavrin, wondering where they were caught, and if they were local bears or were brought from a distant place to the fair.

Gavrin responded with more enthusiasm than knowledge - agreeing with most of what Godwyn said. His own suggestion was that the wolves might have been caught beyond the Wall, for anything, he said solemnly, was possible there.

Considering Trey's excitement, Rhys decided to keep him on his shoulders so he didn't do something rash, like go fall in the bear pit before anyone could stop him. He kept half an eye on Syndra buying the buns and the other half on the two boys.

His small party was seeming very well-behaved - but then Trey, who had the advantage of the greatest height, looked back - presumably to see if Kenrith was coming. Instead ...

"What's Kenrith doing?" he asked, puzzled.

"Hmmm?" Rhys answered, spinning around to look back the way they'd come.

Trey yipped in alarm, but kept his balance by clutching at Rhys' thick hair.

And they saw Kenrith in conversation with a tow-haired knight who bore the Ryswell markings, and who was lifting the page boy onto his back. The boy seemed limp and uunconscious.

Rhys cursed--loudly and passionately. Enough to attract attention from those around him, and certainly loud enough to have been heard by Godwyn and Gavrin.

He slipped Trey from his shoulders. "Gavrin, watch your brother. Make sure he doesn't fall into the bear pit. You two stay here."

Rhys sprinted back toward Kenrith as fast as his 15-year-old legs would take him.

Godwyn looked after Rhys with a rebellious look on his face. "He's my brother, not yours," he muttered.

Syndra arrived back at the group just in time to see Rhys depart. She watched him run back to the fallen squire with concern as she firmly took Trey by the hand. Leaning over to Gavrin, she asked, "What happened?"

Once Syndra took Trey's hand Godwyn grabbed his friend's arm. "Come on!" he urged, and began running towards Kenrith. "You stay with the baby!" he shouted over his shoulder to Syndra.

If looks really could stab like daggers, Godwyn would've had two in his back as he ran off, dragging Gavrin with him without so much as an answer to her question. She stamped her foot and growled with anger.

And Syndra was left alone with Trey, whose face screwed up in a fashion that suggested that he was just about to start to bawl.

"Gav ... gone!" he wailed.

"Well, fine then," she sniped, not at Trey but at the deserters. "We don't need them, do we, sweet one?" she said as she held up the buns for him to see. "Let's go feed that bear."

She led Trey back to the bear pit, keeping his hand firmly in hers, then stood and watched as others fed the bear. She wanted to be quite sure of the procedure before trying it herself.

As she stood there watching the other people and studying their technique (it was quite simple, really - tear a bun in half and drop half down to the bear you want to feed, without toppling over the rim - something that could be challenging with the excited Trey), she heard a couple of women talking behind her.

"In Deepwood Motte, you say? And three children dead? Oh, it's a terrible thing, the summer fever."

By threatening to withhold bear food if he didn't stop jumping around, Syndra finally calmed Trey down enough to let go of his hand and break the buns. She held all the pieces in the crook of one elbow and used her other hand to hold the collar of his shirt tightly. From this position, he could select pieces of bread to throw at the bears.

Trey was delighted and hung over the rim to feed the baby bear - his especial favourite.

While Trey was distracted, Syndra listened to the ladies. She had heard of summer fever, of course, but she had never known anyone that had it. She wasn't overly worried, though. Children sometimes died of fevers, but usually they were lowborn. Highborn children lived better, so they didn't get sick as much. She and her brothers had been sick before and they never died. This was no different. Still, she continued to listen.

"They say it came up the Kingsway, from the South."

"That's certain. All bad things come from the South."

Syndra nodded to herself. Her parents had always said that, too.

"True enough. Is it true that Lord Blackwood's nephew was taken?"

"That's right. His sister's child, it was. Their eldest son ... "

That name was familiar, but Syndra couldn't recall if she'd ever met the boy. She continued to listen and watch her brother feed the bears.

"They say it's a terrible thing," said the first woman. "That the children lose all sense, all feeling. They lie there like little logs, only their eyes following you about, not moving a hand or a foot ... "

"Oh, terrible!" said the other,

"Bit by bit it creeps up, until they can't move, can't swallow ... and then they can't breathe ... only their poor little eyes to watch you ... "

There was a few moments pleasantly appalled silence, as the two women contemplated the horrors happening elsewhere.

"I hear," said the second woman at last, "that if they recover, they're just poor little cripples."

"Aye, that's right enough," said the first. "And they do say ... "

"Syndra, Syndra, all gone!" shouted Trey happily. He wriggled back in her arms, willing to be set down on his feet again and to go off and find fresh adventures.

"Oh!" Trey's shout startled his sister out of her uncomfortable silence. The ladies' graphic description of the effects of summer fever left her feeling cold and frightened. Syndra smiled down at her brother, thankful for his enthusiasm and the chance to escape. "Where d'you want to go now, little one?" She held his hand, but let him lead her away.

"Horses!" declared Trey, pinting to the ring on the far side of the meadow, where horses were being put through their paces in the ring in preparation for the sale that would take place later. Prospective buyers stood around, make notes and comments on the livestock on display.

Good choice, thought Syndra. She liked horses. They started off eagerly in that direction.

But they had barely crossed half the meadow when one of the young serving men came running up to them, almost out of breath.

"If you please, mistress, you are to return to your rooms in the Castle immediately, the young master says. He says to tell you that he and the Maester's nephew say it is of the untmost urgency."

"Mother," she breathed fearfully. Her mother was great with child. She must be ready to bring the babe forth. Syndra couldn't think of anything else that could be that important.

Trey might not have followed all of this, but he had wits enough to see that this threatened a disruption to his pleasure.

"Want to see the horses," he said, with ominous determination.

"I know you do, baby, but we have to check on Mama first. We'll come right back," she soothed as she turned and started back toward the castle, practically dragging her brother by the hand.

By the time they got to the castle, and away from the crowd of Fair folk, they were almost running, for Trey had decided this was fun after all. Indeed, if Syndra had not been careful, Trey would have raced on ahead.

As they came up the stairs to where their rooms were, Syndra saw her mother, pale but otherwise quite composed, talking to Kenrith and Rhys, who were both standing at some distance from her, both looking rather worried. There was no sign of Godwyn or Gavrin.

Categories: WinterChillsGameLogs, CastleHoldfast