Jon Snow bowed to Robb Stark, the same motion he had first made, to get down on one knee on the wolf pelts spread out on the floor. But he knew from the way Robb's eyes flickered that it was unnecessary. Beside Robb on the smaller throne sat Rodrik, and to his right Ryella and beside her in a cradle the newborn Osric, Robb's other son, born four days ago in his royal tent, interrupting his father's punitive campaign against Dragonstone. The heir to the Stark throne playfully returned Jon Snow's bow, but the scarred-faced, stern-eyed Robb gave a small nod.
- "Jon Snow!" said Robb. - 'What I'm about to share with you is the business of few. Only those who are my confidants and friends shall know!
Jon Snow's joy at having saved Robb's life from the death snake was too boundless to wonder what else his words could possibly mean.
- My King, you shower me with your love and appreciation. And yet I am undeserving.
- You are not unworthy, Jon Snow. I am in your debt.
- As I am yours.
- Stand up and come closer.
The king pointed to the open chests before the throne chair.
- Look! Take a good look at these. What do you see?
- These are majestic treasures, my king!
Goblets, dresses, swords with rubies, sceptres and accessories for animal sacrifices. On one of the goblets was a Targaryen dragon, perhaps looted from a sacked shrine in King's Landing by Cregan Stark's men, and on the hilt of another sword was the wolf of Winterfell, set in gold. Jon Snow felt his throat dry as he felt them.
- What treasure is this, Jon Snow?
- 'A treasure of the North,' he said, and as he stroked the velvet of one of the ornate robes with his hand, he glanced at Robb.'Stark kings only give such treasure as gifts.
Robb smiled contentedly in his throne chair.
- You decide what to do with them. First, pick your own swords. Now you are a lord, you are my emissary. But take heed, for Tywin's court is vast, and he has many minions who love shiny things, as all privileged men do. You can take all the treasure here, but it's so heavy it could sink a ship. Fortunately, I've become too rich thanks to the bounty of King Baratheon. I can't say King Robert is a miserly man.
Rodrik and Ryella laughed softly. There was something poignant in the mockery in Robb's eyes, and while he certainly didn't behave in the way others had described the Starks, he certainly didn't understand the greatness of the Seven Kingdoms. Robb twirled his curly locks of hair as he always did when he was thinking about something.
- You will deliver a message to Lord Ser Brynden Tully, to assure him of my tokens of loyalty and friendship!
Jon Snow did not fail to notice the gesture as he watched the three Stark children through the translucent fabric of a silk robe. For the first time, he sensed something was amiss around the embassy. Too much mockery. Even if Robb was planning to attack King's Landing, not Dragonstone, he had some plan he hadn't told him.
- "Come with me, Jon Snow," Robb said, rising from his throne chair with an unexpectedly light gesture.
Even the children couldn't sit still when King Stark was standing. Robb strode down the three wide wooden steps leading to the thrones, almost skipping, and put his right hand on Jon Snow's shoulder. Even he was surprised at this brotherly display. Robb, despite his usual directness, had never touched his adopted brother like this before.
- 'My brother,' Robb continued as they walked on, and as the doors of the long hall opened, the guards slammed their wolf spears three times against the floor, 'a woman reported to me before the battle to serve. She says she's from beyond the Wall, and since you understand Valyr well, I think it's okay if you listen to her every word.
- My King," began Jon Snow, confused, "If you fear another assassination, I assure you that you can count on me, as always. I came to Winterfell a bastard and you took me as your brother.
He was surprised to see Varys's bald head and fat face at the turn of the carpeted corridor, a necklace of gaudy rubies around his neck. Beside the eunuch stood a stout figure in a brown robe, his hood half concealing an old face that at first glance gave him a sense of elusive darkness. Both his eyes were mottled with cataracts. When Jon Snow looked at him, he seemed to be staring into a well of suffering. The man's impassive, expressionless smile was like a dagger thrust.
- 'This is Master Aemon Targaryen,' the eunuch said courteously, after bowing to the lords in turn, 'renowned healer, master, advisor and protector of the Night's Watch.
Rodrik stepped in front of the elderly man, touched the back of his wrinkled hand with his right hand and greeted him with a polite greeting.
- Night's Watch? 'Which royal house is that, father?
Robb smiled and shook his head.
- Not a house. Guardians of the North.
Varys's rasping voice reminded Jon Snow of the dull thud of knight's boots on the cold ground.
- That's a dead guard.
- 'There are still some who are not dead, Jon Snow,' Varys said, 'though we eunuchs know the Night King is a false god. Those who believe in him are in fact worshipping either the Evil One or the other demons of Hell. But let that be their problem.
Master Aemon, who probably understood nothing of the Northern speech, or just pretended not to, smiled with expressionless calm.
- "Welcome, Master Aemon," said Jon Snow in Valyrian, nodding towards him.
- "Welcome," echoed Aemon with the same strange smile on his face, "You are a true Stark.
Jon Snow let the odd comment pass his ear. Aemon followed with light steps.
- 'Well, Jon Snow,' Robb turned to him as they reached the palace courtyard, 'as a token of my gratitude, I would now like to put you to the test.
Varys translated, and Aemon nodded with a smile. Jon Snow watched as servants of various ranks, young and old, men and women, gathered in the courtyard. Some had only recently come to Robb's court, others might have served here under Rickard Stark. They did not look at all as ragged and miserable as the slaves he had seen on the great roads of the Red Mountains and at the executions when he and Oberyn had camped on the southern border. They reminded him more of his father's well-kept household servants. He had grown accustomed to their presence around Robb's palace and the houses of the greater nobles, and sometimes he could hardly distinguish them from the freemen. Yet now it was a strange sensation to see all these men of many clothes and many faces enclosed in one obedient and united mass.
- 'You have made me curious,' Jon Snow turned to his brother as the servants gathered before the wedge-carved wooden pillars supporting the projecting palace roof.
- Because you saved my life, I give you the opportunity to prove that the old gods have given you real power. If you really want to be Stark, I want to see you perform a real feat. With Barthogan Stark's sword, I can achieve a great victory over our enemies! The Black Iron Sword is the bearer of power. Its owner rules where he wills. His power cannot be limited by any man. He cannot lose a war. He yields to no man. He obeys only the old gods. That particular sword disappeared from Winterfell years ago. It wasn't stolen by wildlings, it was stolen by Tywin Lannister. The only way to retrieve the sword is to gouge out the eyes of the enemy's ravens! I've appointed you my emissary. I have charged you with the honorable task of delivering my message to the court of Lord Ser Brynden Tully. You will set sail aboard a great ship full of treasure, all North.
- This privilege means rank and recognition for me, my King.
- True, for a bastard would not be allowed to be an emissary to a lord.
- Then you make me a noble? I'll be a Stark?
- You are already noble. It is the will of the old gods that you serve me with all your knowledge. And when you return, I will give you command of seventy thousand Stark knights. Seventy thousand warriors who will follow only you. If you can get the sword and bring it to me, that's enough men to regain influence in King's Landing. Stark warriors are in demand in the North, and if they swear allegiance to you, you can be the one to stand with me against the oppressive usurpers. I plan to forge alliances with every House. With the support of House Tully, we can defeat all enemies. The House of Martell has long plotted against King's Landing. And if I can persuade Balon Greyjoy to put aside old differences and join us from the north with the might of the Iron Islands fleet, the Lannister power will be shattered!
Varys translated everything for Master Aemon, and the man with the glazed eyes, as if he understood everything, took a few steps with his muddy feet into the crowd of servants, some of whom must have understood the eunuch's words, for Jon Snow could see their alarmed looks. Robb motioned for him to remove his hood. The master obeyed. Jon Snow stared at him, but as the blind healer stood before him and placed his hand softly on his forehead, he quickly calmed. The old master knew the truth. He was not lying.
- I have seen you in great glory. I saw you would win. And all those who rebel against you will beg you for their lives.
- Who will rebel against me?
- Some of your people. I saw no other.
- And Casta?
- I saw your brother in the light. You will rise together.
- And the serpent? What did that mean?
- It had no poison, because you defeated and protected the King of the North from it.
Jon Snow seemed to hear words, murmurs he did not understand. Not Northern, not Valyrian, but not Southern, or any other known language. Everyone listened intently, not even King Robb moved. Aemon's mouth seemed to move. His whispered, chanted words were like a blessing from an open black tomb, pouring forth upon the soul of a mortal. A sudden twitch ran across Jon Snow's face. He closed his eyes. Aemon put his arm around his shoulders.
- I am glad to serve you, Jon Stark.
Robb Stark, after his men had delivered his brother's gifts, invited him into the banqueting hall, where he and his vassals consumed the offal of the sacrificed horses, deer and bulls. Jon Snow was seized with a sickening sensation as Ramsay Bolton cut out the liver of a skinned horse, followed by a spurt of blood, and the servants placed the organ on a plate. Ramsay watched Jon Snow's gaze. He held the bull by the horns, and Robb watched reverently as he lifted the animal's heart aloft. Droplets of blood fell like crimson rain on the long oak table. A cruel smile crossed Ramsay's broad, round face, and Jon Snow shuddered.