Trust Not the Smiling WolfIndex | HomePage | GameLogs | HoldfastGameLogs | Trust Not the Smiling Wolf Corryn made the appropriate arrangements with his men to appease Kenrith and create the illusion of compliance for the Boltons. He had Phalan choose most of his crossbow men for the Wildling Hunt. The highly trained men would be able to hold their own if things went poorly in the woods. They could also inflict horrible losses on the Bolton men before they even had the chance to raise a sword. The men left behind, however, were the veterans of the Knives; men that had fought in close-quarters and were familiar with killing by stealth. Considering their reaction to the kidnapping of their lady, they were eager to spill Bolton blood. The Riverwolf urged patience and they understood and accepted his request. For now. After leaving Phalan in charge, Corryn sought out his old friend. Perhaps Syndra and the others were right. Godfrey might listen to reason. His honor did not belay his wisdom. And Godfrey, for all his foibles, was one of the wisest men the Riverwolf knew. He found Godfrey in the entrance hall, engaged once more in a conversation with Ser Herys. Corryn's knuckles turned white as his hand went to his sword. Three quick steps and a clean draw would remove the man's head from his shoulders. But not now. Not until Syndra found his daughter. Until then, he would have to smile through his hatred. "Gentlemen," he said with a polite cough. "I hope I'm not late." "No," said Godfrey. "Not at all. Have you seen my daughter? I understand she puposed to visit you this morning." At the same time, he signalled Godwyn with a nod that he could proceed to the stables for the horse. Rhys's expression at the arrival of Corryn was guarded and closed. Godwyn sighed, but then gave a nod and walked off towards the stables. Corryn gave Rhys a discerning look as he approached. He noticed the faint bruising and raised any eyebrow. A contented smile curled his lips. Good, he thought, the boy needed a good knock in the head. Rhys caught the smile. Well, Ser Corryn seemed to have completely recovered from his earlier episode, he noted wryly. That didn't take long. He turned his eyes to focus on his friend. "Yes, she stopped by briefly to talk with me," he said plainly. "She requested the company of my squire as she went about a few errands. With so much going on today, I agreed that having someone at her side was advisable." A small sigh of what was probably relief passed Rhys's lips. He came over to Godfrey and gave him a once over, "I should check the fitting on your armor again. We don't need a splinter getting through the padding." Corryn regarded Herys, "You'll be needed at your tent, Ser Herys. Ser Kenrith is looking for you. And I doubt you want him taking your men into the woods before you have a chance to discuss it with him." Indeed, as he spoke, a Bolton man came hurrying into view and gasped out the same message. Ser Herys frowned, both at him and at Corryn, then offered Lady Celia and Ser Godfrey a slight bow. "I should see what Ser Kenrith wants. Another excursion ionto the woods sounds imprudent in the extreme." And so he left them. "I dislike the man," said Lady Celia, once the Bolton was safely out of earshot, "but I have to admit he has some justification in speaking as he did. Three guards killed yesterday - and one of your Knives, Ser Corryn. Is it really the time to go riding off into the woods again?" Rhys listened quietly. Corryn sighed faintly, watching the man go. Then he turned to the group. Although he felt uncomfortable with Celia being present, he knew she would be offended if she learned the news from her brother, rather than his own lips. "Herys has broken guest right," he said, an edge of hatred betraying the calm in his voice. He looked into Godfrey's eyes. "He's kidnapped my daughter and has threatened to kill her if you do not make certain his son dies today. Kenrith and Anders know. We're trying to find Limosa right now, but Syndra believes you needed to know." Ser Godfrey's eyes narrowed - a cold, killing rage in his eyes. It was Lady Celia who spoke, however. "Well," she said, "I must say that this only serves to confirm my opinion that no worse time could be found to send a significant portion of our men off into the forest. And I must add, not only were you remarkably constrained in Ser Herys's presence, Ser Corryn, but also his demeanour was not exactly what I would expect of one who had, at the very least, some reason to believe you might be annoyed with him." Rhys didn't need to stay to listen to Corryn's reply--he knew the man would come up with some slick answer that would appear plausible, and then even manage to throw in a compliment or two to Celia. "Excuse me, but I must prepare for the upcoming fight." He bowed and turned to leave. "Would you rather I killed him like I wanted to, Lady Celia?" Corryn said, narrowing his eyes. "I showed self-restraint rather than poor judgment. It's a wise decision when you deal with your enemies or those who have harmed you. He'll be dead soon enough, once my daughter is safe." He sighed faintly, "And as for Herys. The man wants his true son dead for a minor insult to his family's honor. With a cold heart such as that, I doubt he'd blink twice about me coming into the room. He thinks me the type to bend to his will. I'm nothing more than a useless trader knight, remember?" "You're accounted shrewd enough," said Lady Celia. "Don't let your feelings for the girl blind you to what is going on here." Corryn narrowed his eyes, but his predatory smile was almost alluring in its appearance. "Worry not, Lady Celia," he said. "I'm abundantly aware of what is going on here. More so than certain people would want, I'm sure. But you and I can discuss that at another time." She nodded to Ser Godfrey. "I'll go and take my place on the stand. Will Syndra be joining Edlyn and me?" Ser Godfrey shook his head. "No ... yes ... I don't know. She ... she'll be there to watch me ... " Lady Celia gave a little sigh of impatience and moved away. Godfrey moved forward and clutched Corryn's arm. "Has he hurt her? Has he ... " He swallowed. "Do you think he seeks to anticipate the vows of marriage?" Corryn glanced down at his friend's hand and then looked him in the eyes. He hadn't heard such emotion in Godfrey's voice since Morna's death. Perhaps there was fire in that old heart yet. "I doubt he has harmed her yet, in any fashion," he said calmly. "He knows he can control me only so much. But I also doubt his patience is eternal. He may... force the issue of marriage. And assure his claim." He couldn't say the true word to reflect hat particular act. If he did, there would be nothing left of his resolve not to kill the man immediately. "Godfrey," he said, putting his hands on his friend's shoulders. "We need to focus our attentions now. Or all is lost. What are you prepared to let me do? I need to know. And I need to know now." Ser Godfrey was suddenly still. He turned his head slowly and stared at Corryn. "And what do you wish to do that you would need my special blessing for?" "I don't know," Corryn said, leaning against Godfrey. "I just don't know. I want his blood. For everything he has done to me and to you, old friend. But..." He sighed, "I can't bring that down upon your House. It isn't fair. So, I would ask you, what would you have me do? Your council has always been important to me. And I need you more now than ever." "Once this challenge is done," said Ser Godfrey, "I pledge you all my time and resources to finding and saving your daughter. But for now ... I have to face Evan Tamm." Corryn nodded and moved behind his friend. He talked while doubled-checking the armor's joints and padding. "Then let us dispose of Herys' brat. Accroding to him, if you kill Tamm~E he'll give Limosa back," he said. "There must be more to it. But I am so tired and worn, I cannot see all the angles. It may have something to do with Holdfast." "And Syndra." Corryn paused for a moment. "Have you wondered why they want her. I mean really? Think old friend. Why not Edlyn? I know the answer, but I want to see if you've been thinking on this first." "The simple answer is land," said Godfrey. "And money. Herys and I are both younger sons, but by my father's will I have my own manor, I stand high in Lord Stark's favour, and I am not a poor man, even if I lack the wealth of the Manderlys. Herys has his own wits and little beside. Only his name and his brother's favour lifts him above the status of a hedgeknight." "Excellent observation," Corryn said. "But that's the first layer to this onion." He loosened one of Godfrey's straps to reposition the leather padding beneath his armpit. Although whoever had suited him had done an excellent job, a well-placed hit on his side would have sent splinters into the flesh beneath. Or rather an illegal hit, which he was certain Evan was not above. He tightened the strap again, satisfied. "To better position himself in the courts, he should have married off his son to Edlyn, a child of two houses. But, he didn't. Indeed, he didn't see it as profitable. I suspect our ladyship has been doing some high finance behind your brother's back. And from the mounting evidence, I suspect Herys knew this as well. Otherwise, I doubt he would pass up on Holdfast itself. "It's undoubtedly why he's so set on having his sons, the bastard and the true blooded one, meet an unfortunate end. So he can claim the prize for himself. Syndra. And through her… your fortune." He banged down the shoulder pad with his fist. "What I'm still trying to surmise is how Celia will benefit… or what hold she and Herys have over one another. I suspect it has something to do with the misplaced fortunes and the murder of that maester you mentioned. But with all the misfortunes and confusion of the last week… I have not the mind to see it properly. Heh. And I used to have such an eye for villainy." Corryn stood in front of Godfrey and nodded. "So, I guess a deeper question I must ask you… if… and they won't… but if things turn bad out there, do you wish me to take Syndra to White Harbor and away from all this treachery?" Godfrey had listened to all this, but at the conclusion, he shook his head. "Edlyn's the daughter of a landless Southron knight from the Vale. All she'll get is a present of money from her stepfather on marriage - and Celia knows it too. As for money ... I'm not sure. Ive had word ... " He was silent, frowning for a moment, then sighed. "Something else to heed. No matter. To the most important - if something happens out there, take Syndra - yes. But not to White Harbour. To Winterfell." His eyes locked with Corryn's. "Give me your word." Corryn took his friend's head in his hands, touching forehead to forehead. "Old fool," he said, "As if you need to ask. But yes, you have my word on this." He leaned back and lightly pounded Godfrey's shoulder. "You can take her yourself when this is all said and done. And then we can find our daughters suitable husbands and have a celebration to shame Robert's wedding, eh? We'll be grandfathers both and can watch them grow up. To hell with all the woes and intrigues. It's our family that matters. Brother." Corryn put his arm around Godfrey, hugging him tightly. "Don't be foolish out there," he said in a whisper. "You're all we have left." Ser Godfrey nodded grimly. He seemed to be mentally girding himself for the fight to come. Then he clapt Corryn's shoulder. "Let's find Godwyn and my horse," he said. Corryn nodded silently and followed his friend. He did not speak again. Both of them required the time to collect their thoughts; for entirely different reasons. But the presence of his peer calmed Corryn, just as it had years ago. Rhys will follow. He's tagging along after Godfrey until the tourney is over. |
