LION'S LEGACY | ROBB STARK [2]

54

LION'S LEGACY
54. Cousin

     Just miles away from the Inn where Lyanna resided with members of the Brotherhood Without Banners, Rickard climbed off the horse he was forced to ride on alongside the Hound.

It had been weeks since he was taken from King's Landing by the Hound and despite not liking the man, he dealt with it, thankful for his life.

They had spotted a horse-drawn cart from afar with a man kneeling in front of one of the wheels, trying to fix it since it had fallen off.

Rickard stood in place, watching as the Hound made his way over to the man. "Need a hand?" The Hound asked the man, who turned to look at him.

"Need about eight hands," He began to say, but before he could continue, the Hound lifted up the cart, which allowed the man to place the fallen wheel back on, "Headed to Riverrun. Rumor has it Lord Edmure Tully is planning to call his banners. Sansa Stark is traveling to Winterfell from the Dreadfort to do the same," He explained, letting out a scoff as he shook his head in disapproval, "Those Tyrells were idiots for ever thinking they could win this war they've started. Everyone loved Queen Annalys. No one believes those lies told about her. It's a shame about those kids, though, they were innocent."

Once the man was finished placing the wheel on, the Hound released the cart from his grasp. The man turned to the Hound, on the verge of thanking him when he was struck in the face by the much larger man.

The Hound began to move toward him, on the verge of moving toward the man as he unsheathed his blade.

"Don't, stop!" Rickard shouted in alarm, immediately stepping in front of the Hound before he could kill the man, "Don't kill him. He's innocent."

"No one in Westeros is innocent," The Hound argued, beginning to move toward the man once more.

Before he could react, he felt something sharp pressed against his chest. He looked down, finding Rickard holding a dagger to the Hound's chest. "Where the fuck did you get that?" He asked Rickard in annoyance, rolling his eyes at the young boy, "I bet you don't you even know how to use it."

"You think you're dangerous and scary, don't you? Scaring little boys and killing old men?" Rickard asked, letting out a large scoff, "You're not all that."

"More than anyone you know, I know that much," The Hound retorted coldly.

"You're wrong. I know a killer. A real killer. She could kill you with her little finger if she had to, especially if she knew the way you were treating me."

"And who the fuck may that be? Your mother?" The Hound asked, beginning to laugh.

"No," Rickard revealed, shaking her head, "My sister. Torra. I've seen her kill men with her barehands when she had to. She could kill you at ease."