Iron and Blood: a Theon & Sansa Story

Chapter 68

Theon
Thad Mallister helped Theon find a horse to purchase. It cost nearly all the silver in his coin purse, but at least he got off his feet. He followed Thad north through the villages of the Neck, where no one bothered to trouble them. Thad was a loud, boring man, but Wendell Frey was silent and apathetic, so neither complained as they rode.

Without the Reeds, Theon wasn't sure how he would go about finding a midwife he could trust to sail home with him. He could not approach just anyone—no one from the North would be willing to travel all the way to Pyke without the knowledge that it was for Sansa Stark.

Perhaps more pressing was that Stark bannermen had gathered at Winterfell—no doubt itching to land an assault on Pyke. It had been so many moons ago that Theon commanded his father send word to Robb Stark, and now he had no reason to believe Balon Greyjoy ever had. With the Iron Islands in such delicate peril after his death, Asha had decided not to threaten war against the North, even if it was only a mummer's farce. It was a gamble, Theon understood, and he could not force his sister to take it.

He decided he would learn what he could from Thaddeus Mallister, who was evidently too foolish and self-consumed to recall Theon's face after all these years. And so, as Wendell Frey, Theon inquired, "What of the prince Lady Sansa was meant to marry?"

"The Lannisters are furious," Thad chuckled. "They need the North, and to win over the North, they need the Starks."

"I once heard rumor that the prince would marry another Northern girl from a different family," Theon tried.

Thad nodded, urging his horse onward by its reins. "I did hear talk of it," he agreed, "but I guess the girl was too ugly for the prince's taste. Or she was not important enough." Thad shrugged. "As far as I know, the bastard still wants Sansa Stark's little cunt and will refuse anything else."

Theon knew better than to let his discomfort show, so he said nothing.

Thad went on, "Can't say I blame the fucker. You ever seen the Stark girl?" He did not wait for Theon to respond. "Gods, the tits on that one. Always wanted to marry her myself," he sighed.

"Marrying someone else would certainly deter Prince Joffrey," Theon remarked through gritted teeth.

Thad huffed, "Any man who dares go near that girl will die with his own cock in his mouth. The Lannisters are willing to do almost anything to get their hands on the Greyjoy that took her away."

Theon flinched, but he hoped Thad Mallister would not notice. "Why hasn't Lord Stark declared war already?" he asked. "Any Northern army could crush the Iron Islands and rescue Lady Sansa."

"Plenty of Northerners have no doubt been wondering the same," Thad replied with a nod. "The Greyjoy fucker was Ned Stark's ward. I met him once—annoying little cunt. Now that his father's dead, I imagine striking him down would be easy."

It made Theon angrier than it should have, but there was no reason it should bother Wendell Frey. As flatly as he could manage, he spat, "All the Greyjoys are cunts." Most of them, at least, Theon added to himself.

They passed through the village's gate and into a great forest, damp with marshes on all sides. The Ironborn called crannogmen insulting names as a result of the bogs they called home, and many Southern houses probably did the same. Like the rest of the North, crannogmen were solitary people, loyal to their own kind and distrustful of others. In fact, Theon could name no house in the Neck besides the Reeds of Greywater Watch.

Abruptly Theon asked, "Why would Robb Stark call all his bannermen to Winterfell if he need only put down the Iron Islands? Stark men alone could handle that, it would seem."

The question was an honest one—one that had bothered Theon throughout their ride. More importantly, why would Robb intimate to other Northern Lords that he had any interest in warring with the Ironborn? If the Northerners were urged on, they may not hesitate to launch a true attack on Pyke, even without Robb's permission. They would have no way of knowing that Sansa and Arya had not been kidnapped at all.

Unless Robb told them.

Something about it was wrong, Theon knew, and Thad Mallister could provide no answers to Wendell Frey. Theon decided to try something else. "Has there been word of Ned Stark in King's Landing?"

Thad sighed. "It would seem the former Lord Stark has abandoned his family," he remarked. "He should have stormed up from King's Landing the moment his daughters were taken—that's what my father would have done."

Theon doubted it. "Is it possible he's under the foot of the Lannisters?"

"Possible, I suppose," Thad reasoned. "Still, the King is not a Lannister, yet he gives Tywin all his power. I hear Lord Tywin hopes to make the Dreadfort the Seat of the North if they cannot marry Lady Sansa to the prince. I understand—the Starks are intransigent when it comes to the Lannisters. The Boltons won't be so stubborn, I would imagine."

Theon had met Roose Bolton once at Winterfell: he was a small man with a weasel-like face. Few Northmen trusted him—his voice was soft and infrequent; he said too little and listened too much. It was unsurprising that Bolton would usurp the Starks to gain power in the North. The Lannisters must have thought it true that the Boltons would make far better allies. Robb would do everything in his power to prevent it.

Suddenly, Theon understood everything. Thad Mallister was a fool, a bloody, naive fool. Robb Stark was not gathering Northmen to attack the Iron Islands—he was gathering them to march South. In all likelihood, Robb would tell every Northern Lord the truth about what had happened to his sisters and his father, and every single one would rally around him. It could only mean that Robb would, in fact, declare war, but it would not be against the Iron Islands. It would take something significant to convince Robb that war was a necessity—Theon feared the Lannisters were planning an assault on Pyke to reclaim the Stark girl that was taken from them. If Tywin could avoid using the Boltons to control the North, he would do it.

Theon knew he needed to reach Robb. It would be impossible to defend the Iron Islands from the Lannisters if he could not inform Asha of their plans—plans that Robb almost certainly had knowledge of. Still, if he travelled all the way to Winterfell now, he he might not return to the Iron Islands before the baby's birth. He needed Robb to meet him halfway. There was only one thing that would convince Thad Mallister to send a raven immediately.

"Do you ever wish you could be a hero?" Theon asked him.

Thad scoffed a little. "What kind of fucking question is that?"

"An honest one." Theon stopped his horse in its tracks, and Thad turned his own mare to look at the man he called Wendell Frey. "If you want to be a hero, you will help me get a raven to Robb Stark at once."

"A raven that says what?" Thad snapped back.

Theon replied, "A raven that tells him you captured Theon Greyjoy, and Robb should come himself to escort me back to Winterfell."