Tarbeck Hall had received only the occasional raven as the snows of winter crested higher and higher, but the emergence of the lion necessitated a reply. Lord Andrey’s beard had grown in beneath his constant chin-stroking, though his frown was unmistakable even as it grew bushy and unkempt. Since assuming lordship at nineteen, this ritual had accompanied every conflict; rarely in matters of the heart, but especially so in times of war. He gazed out the large bay window of his solar. Squalls ripped through the little town and whistled off the limestone cliffs that Tarbeck Hall stood atop, covering his lands in endless slabs of grey and white.
Without turning to face the men seated behind him, he spoke. “Lord Reyne sent a raven today,” he began, his voice a mix of gravel and strongwine, “He rides for Casterly Rock.” Lord Tarbeck had only recently learned of the tragedy that had befallen the Lannisters, and of the new Queen that spoke of pushing back that damnable Theon Greyjoy. Lyonel Reyne’s words showed his wariness at blindly following a Lannister that had assumed power when the pride was nearly ended. “He wishes to meet this new Queen of ours, and has asked me to meet him there.” Lord Reyne had been a man prone to outbursts and strong passions, even as a page at Cornfield in his youth. Andrey was a squire then, and had found himself pulling the young lion out of danger more often than not. Somehow, this habit became a source of comfort for Andrey, and he had come to think of the man as the brother he never had.
It was Andrey’s brother that spoke next. “You don’t have to follow him, you know,” Thomas Tarbeck replied, hoping to convince his brother just this once. “That mouth of his will get you both killed before the Queen even sees you.” Since losing his father, Lord Tyland Lannister, at the age of nine, Thomas had fretted over every family member that travelled further than a day’s ride from home. His place at Tarbeck Hall at this moment was second only to his own nameless keep, where his wife and son awaited him.
Addison, Andrey’s son, rose from the great oaken table where he had previously remained silent. “Our people and our lands have been trampled and beaten down by war, and you wish to leave the matter of helping the Queen to someone else, Uncle?” The heir to Lord Andrey had deigned to attend the meeting in his signature armor; his chainmail was interwoven links of silver that shone almost a pale blue, and he wore the star of House Tarbeck in a resplendent cascade of azure and white on his breastplate. “Father, we can sit in this hall until the Others take us and the seats we froze our asses to. Or, we can grab the kraken by the throat, and hope that we can put a sword through its mouth before it kills every Westerner left.” Addison hoped that his argument would hold more weight than his fruitless labor of bringing the poor in from the snows for a while. Father had answered with a curt “no.” He considered the lack of that response a victory for the moment.
Maester Horace sat quietly at the oaken table, turning Lyonel Reyne’s letter in his hands, while Andrey’s second son Gareth attempted to peek in to some of the secret pockets within his robes. Even now, as war threatened to pull the West further in to the seven hells, Gareth could not help but marvel at the pursuits of the mind; his father’s wishes were the only thing keeping his body in that room, but otherwise, his thoughts were miles away. I just hope whatever they decide, they decide soon. This is boring. The winter’s chill had done nothing to dim Gareth’s enthusiasm for learning, though some whispered that the boy was not quite right, to be so ignorant of the danger just outside the castle walls.
Lord Tarbeck finally turned to face his council, though he hardly relied on their actual counsel. As much as he wished to remain out of the thick of war, for the sake of his people, Andrey knew that war with the Ironborn was simply constant and inevitable. “Theon Greyjoy has pulled at the roots of House Lannister, and nearly destroyed the royal family completely. I doubt he will stop now, as close as he is.” He looked to Thomas, and for a moment, could feel nothing but pity for him. He’s a fool if he thinks he and his wife can just stay home and both get fat over the winter. The Greyjoys will take the entire West before the first light of spring. “We will ride for Casterly Rock in the morning. I anticipate the storms will slow us for a time, but we should be able to meet Lord Reyne and the Queen before everyone has departed.”
“We?” Thomas asked, dreading the answer.
“I need you with me, Thomas.” He clasped his brother’s shoulder, which Thomas supposed must count at this point as affection. “You have grown in to a capable warrior and a promising commander. I will need your insight in these matters right away. We can’t rely on ravens with the snows being as fierce as they’ve been.” Thomas looked dejected, but his brother continued. “You may return home to gather your things, and say goodbye to your family.”
At that, he looked to Gareth. “You’ll need to pack your things as well. You’ll be coming with us as well. You need to become familiar with the Queen’s court. If you wish to use your brain for the rest of your days, you need to continue your studies, and you’ve read every book in the library, and requested dozens more. There are some things that you can only learn for yourself.” Gareth felt his stomach fall in to a pit, and suddenly could not care less about Maester Horace’s pockets.
Addison spoke up at last. “I will be ready for the ride on the morrow, father.”
“You only need be ready to tell your brother and uncle goodbye, Addison,” Andrey replied. “You must remain at Tarbeck Hall and rule in my stead. A lord and his heir are not safe when they travel outside the walls of their keep together. You’re even less safe, considering the chaos throughout the West.
Addison wanted to scream at his father, but he knew better after all these years. The man would just stare blankly, retreating in to some unreachable space in his mind where no insult, no bribe, no negotiation could sway him. Right now, though, Addison could hardly stand being relegated to a spectator’s role, while the defenseless called out for a hand amidst the darkness. Addison abruptly exited his father’s solar, slamming the large door as he rushed to the nearest practice dummy.
Andrey sat in the silence for a moment, then looked back to Thomas. “I know the two of you would rather have the other’s fortune, but this is for the good of the family, and our people. Addison needs to learn how to lead these people. He can’t do that if he’s hungry to find glory in every battle out there.”
“I’ll go for him, because he’s still too young to realize his brashness will get him killed. But you’re making a mistake, following the lions in to their den.” Thomas shook his head, before standing from the table. “I just hope we can follow the stars home before they swallow us all.”