Chapter 47 Chapter 47: Bran

The sound was just the faintest metal clash, the sound of steel scraping against stone.He lifted his head on his front paws, listening and smelling the night. The rain at night awakens a thousand dormant smells and makes them ripe and alive.Grass and brambles, blackberries on the ground, dirt, worms, rotting leaves, mice burrowing through the bushes... everything is clearly discernible.He also caught the smell of his brother's shaggy black fur and the strong blood of the squirrel he had just killed.Many squirrels are running around the branches above the head, digging the bark with their small claws, the wet fur, and boundless fear.Like the noise outside.

The sound came again, scratching, thumping.He stood up, pricked up his ears, raised his tail, and let out a long howl.It was a long, high-pitched, creepy howl. He wanted to wake up the sleeping people, but the stone mountains of humans nearby were still dark and dead.It was a still, wet night, such a night that drove the Men into their caves.The rain had stopped, but they didn't want to come out, but hid in the dank ash cave, huddled by the fire. The younger brother emerged from the bushes, his movements were so silent that he vaguely remembered another brother he had a long time ago, the one with white hair but blood-red eyes.The younger brother's eyes were like pools of shadow, and the hair on the nape of his neck stood on end.He also heard the voice and knew it meant danger.

There was the scraping and thumping again, and there was a gliding sound, soft leather feet slapping swiftly on the stone.The breeze blows a hint of masculinity to the tip of his nose.He didn't recognize the smell.strangeness.Danger.die. He lunged at the source of the sound, his brother close behind.Rocky mountains loomed before my eyes, slippery and wet.He grinned, but the human rock ignored it.In front of it is a gate with a steel snake tightly coiled between the black pillars.When he bumped into it, the door trembled, and the steel snakes rang. They shook for a while before returning to calm.Through the gap in the door, he saw a long stone cave between the rock walls, leading directly to the stone square in the distance, but he couldn't get through.He tried to get through the gap, but couldn't.The younger brother bit the black bone of the gate fiercely with his teeth, but he couldn't bite it open.Together they tried to dig a hole underneath, but the ground was flat and large stones, only the surface was covered with mud and palm leaves.

He growled, ran back and forth in front of the gate, and slammed it again.It moved half a minute, then slammed him back again.The door was locked, a voice whispering, and chained.He couldn't hear where the sound was coming from, let alone smell the smell.I can't go in any direction.Every door on the man-made cliff is closed, and the wood is thick and hard.There is no way out. There was another road, the sound came again, and suddenly there was the outline of a large tree covered with needles, growing slantingly out of the black earth, almost as tall as ten people.But when he looked up, there was nothing!It's on the other side of the godswood, a sentinel tree, hurry, hurry...

A muffled hum that stopped abruptly passed through the night. Quick, quick, he turned sharply and jumped into the forest, the wet leaves rustled under his claws, and the dense branches above his head kept whipping.fast, fast.He could hear his younger brother following closely behind.They ran together under the heart tree, around the spring, through the blackberry bushes, past the tangled oak and ash and hawthorn groves, towards the far end of the wood... there it was, the tree he had never noticed but could still remember The tree, the crooked tree tops up against the eaves.That's it, the thought came out of the blue.He still remembers what it was like to climb a tree.The needles are everywhere, scratching the face and falling into the nape of the neck, and the sticky sap will stain the palms, giving off a strong and pungent smell.Climbing such a tree is easy for a little boy. It is slanted and curved, and its branches are densely packed like a natural ladder, which just hits the roof.

He roared a few times, walked and sniffed around the base of the tree, raised a leg to mark it by peeing.The low-hanging branch brushed his face, and he bit back, twisting and pulling until the wood snapped.With the bitterness of needles and sap in his mouth, he shook his head and howled loudly. The younger brother sat down against his waist, raised his voice, and wailed with him, the gloomy tone was full of sadness.This way does not work.They are not squirrels, nor are they mischievous humans, and their soft pink claws and clumsy legs can't climb the branches and the trunks of the big trees.They are runners, rangers, and hunters.

Through the dim night, beyond the boulders that surrounded them, the dogs came to life, and one by one began to bark, louder and louder, until at last they became a chorus, a great din.They smelled it too: the smell of the enemy, the smell of fear. Despair fueled a rage that seized him, as feverish as hunger.He turned away from the wall and walked towards the woods, the branches and leaves mottled shadows on the gray fur... Then he turned back suddenly, rushed, kicked up the wet leaves and pine needles with the soles of his legs, and in an instant he was again He passed the hunter, and in front of him was a fleeing long-horned buck. He could see and smell it, and he wanted to sprint and kill it with all his strength.The smell of fear made his heart beat faster, causing saliva to flow from the corners of his mouth.He strode over the fallen logs, flew up the trunk, dug his claws into the bark, and leaped up, up, up, twice, three times, slowly and arduously, until at last he reached the bottom branch.Branches tangled around his feet and whipped his eyes, and he squeezed through the gray-green needles, crackling all around him.Slower and slower.Something caught his foot, and he wrenched it free, growling loudly.The trunk became narrower and steeper, almost upright, and wet and slippery. When he scratched hard, the bark split like animal hide.Finally, he walked a third, half, almost, and the eaves were almost within reach... At this time, he stepped on the ground, and the soles of his feet slid across the wet and smooth tree surface. In an instant, he leaned over and tripped. tree goes.In fear and rage, he howled, fell, fell, he curled up, and the earth rushed to smash him to pieces...

Bran flung himself back into his lonely tower room, lying on his bed, his blankets tangled and his breath coming shortly. "Summer," he cried out loud. "Xiamen." His shoulder was hurting, as if he had just fallen, and he knew in his heart that it was caused by the wolf's fall.Jojen was right, I am a beast.There was a faint bark of a dog outside the door.The sea came and poured into the walls, just like Jojen's dream.Bran grabbed the handle above his head and pulled himself up, calling for help.No one came.It took him a long time before he remembered that no one could come, even the guards by his door were taken away.Ser Rodrik had summoned every man grown, and there were only a few token guards left at Winterfell.

They set off eight days ago and gathered a total of 600 soldiers from Winterfell and nearby manors. Clay Seven will lead more than 300 people to join them on the way, and Master Luwin sent Raven earlier to tell Let the lords in Baigang, the barren mounds and even the depths of the wolf forest dispatch reinforcements.Torrhen's Square is under attack by a ruthless pirate called Dagmer the Cleftjaw.Old Nan said the man was unkillable, and once an enemy had chopped his head in half with an axe, but the fierce Dagmer pressed the halves together with his hands until they grew back together again.Did this Dagmer win?In any case, Torrhen's Square is still many days away from Winterfell, but now...

Bran got off the bed and moved one hand after another to the window.His fingers trembled as he opened the narrow window.The courtyard was empty, the surrounding windows were dark, and Winterfell was still sleeping. "Hodor!" he shouted down, at the top of his voice.Hodor must be sleeping in the stable by now, shouting louder might wake him, or someone else. "Hodor, come quickly! Osha! Meera, Jojen, come!" Bran put his hands around his mouth. "A lot, a lot, a lot, a lot!" The door behind him slammed open, but he didn't recognize the person who came in.The person who came was wearing a leather vest inlaid with iron plates, holding a dagger in one hand and an ax tied behind his back. "What do you want?" Bran asked in panic. "This is my room. Get out of here."

Theon Greyjoy followed the man into the bedroom. "We won't hurt you, Bran." "Theon?" Bran was dizzy with sudden relief. "Did Robb send you? Is he back too?" "Robb is far from here. He can't save you." "Help me?" He was confused. "Don't scare me, Theon." "Call me Prince Theon. We are all princes, Bran. Who ever dreamed of such a situation? I have taken your castle, Your Highness." "Winterfell?" Bran began to shake his head. "no, you can not." "Get out, Weirag." The man with the dagger stepped back immediately.Theon sat on the bed. "I sent four men up the wall with hooks and ropes, and opened the little gate for us. My men probably have killed your guards by now. I assure you, Winterfell is in my hands." Bran didn't understand. "But my father is your guardian." "I'm your and your brother's guardian now. Listen, as soon as the fighting outside is over, my men will gather the rest of the city into the Great Hall. You and I are going to address them. You must tell them, You have surrendered and given Winterfell to me, and you command them to obey their new masters as they served and obeyed their old masters." "I never will," Bran said. "We'll fight you until we get you out. I won't surrender, you can't force me." "This is not a child's game, Bran, don't treat me as your playmate, I'm not interested. The castle is mine, but the people are still yours. If your highness wants to keep them safe, you'd better obey." He said Get up and go to the door. "Someone will come to dress you and take you to the hall. Before that, weigh carefully what you have to say." Waiting made Bran feel even more helpless.He sat in the window seat and gazed at the dark towers and shadowy ramparts.At one point, he heard shouts coming from the guard room, and the sound of swords clashing, but he had neither Xia Tian's ears nor Xia Tian's nose, so everything was so hazy.When I'm awake, I'm a cripple. When I'm asleep, when I'm summer, I can run, fight, hear, and smell. He expected Hodor to come, or at least a maid, but it was Maester Luwin who opened the door, candle in hand. "Bran," he said, "do you...know what happened? Did someone call you?" His left eye was cut and blood was running down his cheek. "Theon came and said he took Winterfell." The old master put the candle away and wiped the blood off his face. "They swam across the moat and scaled the walls with claws and ropes. They broke in wet and armed with sharp knives," he said, sitting on a stool by the door, blood pouring from his head again. "The gatekeeper was Beer Belly. They raided the gate tower, killed him, and wounded the straw head. Before they rushed through the gate, I had time to release two ravens. The one to White Harbor flew away, and the other was killed. One shot." The maester stared at the rushes on the floor. "Ser Rodrik has taken our men, and I am as guilty as he is. How could I not have foreseen such danger, how could I have not-" Jojen saw it, Bran thought. "Please help me put on my clothes." "Yes, I forgot." From the heavy iron box under Bran's bed, the maester retrieved underwear, trousers and coat. "You are the Stark of Winterfell and Robb's heir. You must maintain your dignity." The two worked together to make Bran look like a lord. "Theon wants me to surrender and give Winterfell to him," he said, as the old master fastened his cloak with a wolf's head pin made of silver and jet, Bran's favorite. "It is no disgrace. A lord's first duty is to protect his people. A cruel land breeds a cruel race, Bran, and bear that in mind when you deal with the ironmen. Your lord father did everything in his power to It's too little too late to tame Theon." The ironborn who had been sent to escort them was a short, strong man with a charcoal beard covering most of his chest.He lifts the boy up easily, but he clearly doesn't seem to like the task.Down the stairs, Rickon's room was ajar, and the awakened four-year-old lost his temper. "I want my mother," he said, "I want my mother, and I want Shaggydog." "Your mother is far away, Your Highness." Maester Luwin pulled the child into a nightgown. "But here's me, and Bran." He took Rickon by the hand and led him out. Below, Meera and Jojen were also chased out of the room by a bald man with a spear three feet taller than the others.Jojen looked at Bran, eyes like green pools of sorrow.Another ironborn drove the Freys out. "Your brother has lost his kingdom," said Little Walder to Bran, "and now you are not a prince, but a hostage." "You too," said Jojen, "and me, all of us." "Whoever talks to you eats frogs." One of the ironmen who went ahead carried a torch, but the night rain came down again and soon extinguished the flames.Quickly across the yard, they heard direwolves howling in the godswood.I hope that Xia Tian fell without injury. Theon Greyjoy sat high on the Stark throne.He had taken off his cloak, and his fine mail shirt was covered with a black coat emblazoned with Greyjoy's gold kraken.He rested his hand comfortably on the wolf's head at the front of the huge stone handrail. "Theon took Robb's seat," Rickon said. "Shut up, Rickon." Bran sensed the danger, but his brother was too young to feel it.A few torches were lit in the entire hall, and the fire in the fireplace was also fanning, but most of the hall was shrouded in darkness.The benches were against the wall, and there was nowhere to sit, so the inhabitants of the castle gathered in small groups, and no one dared to speak.He saw Old Nan, her toothless mouth opening and closing.Two guards supported the straw head, and his bare chest was wrapped in a bloodstained bandage.Pockmarked Tim was sobbing uncontrollably, and Beth Cassel's sobs were filled with deep fear. "Who are you?" Theon asked Reed and Walder. "They were both named Walder Frey, adopted sons of Lady Catelyn," Maester Luwin explained. "These two are Jojen Reed and his sister Meera, sons of Howland Reed, Greywaterwatch, who have come to Winterfell to renew their oath of loyalty on behalf of their people." "It's really not the right time for you to come," Theon said, "It's just my luck. Since you are here, you have to stay." He vacated the high position. "Bring your highness here, Lauren." And the black bearded man threw Bran into the stone seat like a sheaf of wheat. Men kept being driven into the hall, where the ironmen beat them with spear-butts and yelled at them.Gage and Osha were herded from the kitchen, and the flour for their breakfast bread was scattered all over the floor, while Mikken was dragged in cursing.Fran limped and tried to hold Palla up.Her dress was torn in two, and she could only hold them together with clenched fists, and moved forward, struggling with every step.Maester Chayle reached out to help, but was knocked to the ground by an ironborn. The last one to come was the captive Reek, who entered the door with a foul stench before anyone else, a strong and pungent nose.Bran just felt sick to his stomach. "This man is locked in the tower cell," said the escort. He was a beardless young man with blond hair and soaking wet. He was undoubtedly one of the first enemies to swim across the moat. "He said they called him Reek." "Without a doubt," Theon said, smiling broadly. "Have you always been this smelly? Or just happened to fuck a pig?" "I haven't fucked anything since they caught me, my lord. My real name was Heck, and I worked for the bastard son of House Bolton of the Dreadfort, until Stark shot him through the back with a sharp arrow for his wedding. until." Theon found it amusing. "Who did he marry?" "The widow of Hornwood, my lord." "The old woman? Is he blind? This woman's tits are as dry and shriveled as empty wineskins." "He didn't want her tits, my lord." The ironborn slammed the door at the end of the hall shut.From a high vantage point, Bran counted the enemy to be about twenty in all.There must have been guards left at the city gate and the armory, but even so, there were no more than thirty people in total.Theon raised his hand for silence. "You all know me—" "Yeah, we all know you steaming shit!" Mikken yelled, as the bald man poked him in the stomach with the butt of his spear, then smashed him in the face.The blacksmith staggered to his knees, sticking out a tooth. "Mickon, don't talk." Bran tried to make his voice stern and dignified, like Robb giving orders, but the tone betrayed him unconsciously, and the words poured out into screams. "Listen to your young master, Mikan," Theon said. "He is more sensible than you." A lord's first duty is to protect his subjects, he reminded himself. "I surrender to you on behalf of Winterfell." "Speak up, Bran. Remember to call me prince." He raised the volume. "I surrender to Prince Theon on behalf of Winterfell. You all obey his orders." "To hell with him!" Mikken roared. Theon ignored his outburst. "My father has crowned himself King of the Iron Islands with the ancient crown of salt and rock. As conqueror he has the right to take all the North, and you are his subjects." "Fart." Mikken wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. "I serve only House Starks, not rebellious squids—ah." He fell head first heel to the stone floor under the blow of the spear butt. "Blacksmiths are all strong-bodied and simple-minded," Theon remarked, "but you are wise men. As long as you serve me as faithfully as you served Ned Stark, I promise I will be the most generous master." Mikan Supported himself with his palms and knees, he couldn't stop vomiting blood.Please stop, Bran hoped, but the blacksmith kept yelling, "You think a handful of bastards can take North—" The bald man plunged the point of his spear into the back of Mikken's neck.The steel pierced through the flesh, stirred the blood column, and pierced out from the throat.The woman screamed, and Meera quickly blindfolded Rickon.So he was drowned in blood, Bran thought numbly, in his own blood. "Who has anything to say?" asked Theon Greyjoy. "Hodo hodo hodo hodor," Hodor roared, eyes wide. "Help, shut up this idiot." The two ironborn struck Hodor with the butts of their spears.The stable boy fell to the ground, trying to defend himself with his hands. "I will be your good lord like Eddard Stark." Theon raised his voice, drowning out the muffled sound of solid wood hammering flesh. "But the ugly word is up front, and I will make life miserable for anyone who has a second heart. Don't think that what you see here is all my strength. We will take Torrhen's Square and Deepwood Motte soon, and my uncle On the Saltspear, to take Moat Cailin. And if Robb Stark can hold back the Lannisters, he must be King of the Trident, and the North will be our Greyjoys forever." "The Starks' vassals will rebel against you," said the man called Reek loudly. "One is the fat pig of White Harbor, and Umber and Karstark. You need more men. Let me go, and I will work for you." Theon looked him over. "You're smarter than you smell, but I can't stand the smell." "Okay," said Reek, "I'll wash right away. If you let me go." "A man of good sense," Theon laughed. "Kneel." One of the ironmen handed Reek a longsword, which he laid at Theon's feet, and swore an oath of honor to House and Greyjoy. King Balon served.Bran dared not look.The green dream really came true. "Lord Greyjoy!" Osha stepped over Mikken's body. "I am also a prisoner here. You were still there the day you were captured." I thought you were my friend, Bran thought, with a throbbing pain. "I want fighters," Theon declared, "not kitchen sluts." "It was Robb Stark who sent me to the kitchen. I've had to do some dirty work cleaning pots and grease and helping this guy warm his straw bed for the better part of the last six months." She glared at Gage. glance. "I've had enough, please let me wield the spear again." "I have a spear here," said the bald man who had killed Mikken.He scratched his crotch and grinned. Osha lifted her skinny knees and thrust them between his legs. "You should keep this red soft thing." She twisted the spear from the opponent's hand and knocked him down with the tail handle. "I want a real thing made of wood and steel." The bald man rolled and wailed on the ground, and the other marauders laughed. Theon laughed with them. "It's yours," he said, "and you keep the spear—Stege will find a new one. Kneel now and swear to me." After that, no one came forward to take the oath, so Theon announced the dissolution and warned everyone to work hard and not to cause trouble.The task of carrying Bran back to the bedroom was handed over to Hodor, whose face was shattered, his nose was swollen, and one eye could not be opened because of the repeated blows. "Hodor," sobbed Broken Lips, and he took Bran in his big, strong arms and bloody hands, and carried him back into the night rain.