CHAPTER 110
Sevon.
Garon led his men through the dead city on patrol, his vigilance growing with every horrifying sight that met his eyes.
Euron Greyjoy's ruthlessness and cunning exceeded even his expectations.
It was as if he did not care about Sevon at all.
Fear.
Destruction.
Slaughter.
Everything seemed designed to conceal his true objective.
"In the original course of events, Euron only appeared in the Iron Islands after murdering Balon Greyjoy and returning to participate in the kingsmoot."
"After seizing the Seastone Chair, he immediately began pursuing dragons and sought contact with Daenerys Targaryen."
"But now he appeared in the North."
"Why?"
"To help Balon?"
Garon immediately dismissed the possibility.
"Euron is a kinslayer. He is cruel, selfish, and ambitious. He would never help Balon out of brotherly loyalty."
"Is it because of dragons?"
"Or is there something else in the North?"
His eyes narrowed.
"Could there be dragons in the North?"
The thought startled even him.
"No."
"That makes no sense."
"Daenerys's dragons should only have just hatched after the appearance of the Red Comet."
"Besides, Euron isn't me. He doesn't possess knowledge of future events."
After considering it carefully, Garon abandoned the unreliable speculation.
"No matter what, my immediate priority is to defeat the Ironborn in the North and seize Dragonbinder."
"With the Red Comet now blazing across the sky, Daenerys must have already awakened her dragons."
"I don't have much time left."
Looking up at the crimson comet streaking across the heavens, Garon quickly made up his mind and issued new orders.
"Send a team to the White Knife Crossing and check on Mihawk's force. If Euron is not there, have Mihawk return and rendezvous with us immediately."
"Also dispatch all available cavalry scouts. Use Sevon as the center point and track every trace of the Ironborn retreat."
"I want to know exactly where Euron went."
Following Garon's orders, the cavalry quickly rode out of the city.
Yet he waited until evening.
Neither Mihawk nor his men returned.
Nor was there any sign of Euron.
"Strange."
"He isn't heading toward Torrhen's Square."
"He wasn't found near the White Knife Crossing."
"So where did he go?"
Inside Sevon's ruined hall, Garon spread out a map and discussed the situation with the assembled officers.
"Did he move directly through the hills toward Moat Cailin?"
Ron thought for a moment before speaking.
"Could he have bypassed Torrhen's Square altogether and fled west toward the Stony Shore?"
Several officers nodded.
It seemed possible.
After all, the Ironborn traditionally struck quickly and withdrew after plundering.
But Garon shook his head.
"This invasion is different."
"The Ironborn did not come merely to raid."
"Their objective from the beginning was Winterfell."
He turned toward Shanks.
"Have all the cavalry returned?"
Shanks answered immediately.
"Two scouting teams sent south have not returned yet. Everyone else is back."
Garon thought briefly.
"Then establish camp."
"We'll spend tonight in Sevon."
"Once we confirm Euron's location, we'll decide our next move."
No one objected.
"Clay."
Garon shifted his gaze.
"Have all the bodies been collected?"
Clay's face immediately darkened.
"Not yet."
His voice was low.
"The corpses in the outer ward have been gathered and moved near the western wall."
"But the inner ward hasn't been cleaned yet."
Garon frowned.
"Prioritize clearing the bodies."
"We'll deal with the rest tomorrow."
Clay nodded.
Once all other matters were settled, Garon dismissed the officers and remained alone with the map.
His thoughts turned once more toward Euron.
"Should I send cavalry down the Kingsroad toward Moat Cailin?"
"Most of Euron's force consists of infantry. If he truly went south, mounted scouts should eventually catch him."
For some reason, Garon could not shake the feeling that Euron had no intention of abandoning the North.
Most likely, he was moving to rendezvous with Victarion Greyjoy.
"No."
"If Euron and Victarion unite, Winterfell will need even greater strength to defeat them."
"Before marching south, Robb authorized me to exercise command authority during emergencies."
"Now is the time to use it."
A sharp light flashed through Garon's eyes.
Looking at Winterfell's position on the map, he muttered quietly.
"To make it legitimate, I need Sansa and Bran's approval."
"And I should verify Bran's intentions once more."
Garon did not fear the destruction Euron and Victarion might bring to the North.
What interested him was the opportunity.
The opportunity to gain influence over the armies of the North.
"Once I can command the Northern hosts, launching an attack on the Iron Islands becomes possible."
"With Asha Greyjoy already in my hands, the Iron Islands may eventually become mine."
"By then, I would control two of the Seven Kingdoms."
"And my ambitions would no longer be beyond reach."
For a long time, he stared at the Iron Islands marked on the map.
Gradually, plans of conquest began forming in his mind.
Without realizing it, night descended over ruined Sevon.
Garon finally returned to reality, rolled up the map, and began arranging food and quarters for the soldiers.
After assigning guards and patrol rotations, he personally inspected the city once more.
Only then did he return to rest, eventually falling asleep amid the lingering stench of death.
The night passed peacefully.
The next morning, Garon organized additional manpower to assist Clay in clearing the remaining corpses and debris throughout Sevon.
The morning quickly slipped away.
By midday, the two cavalry teams dispatched south finally returned with news.
"My Lord."
"We followed the trail all the way to Oxhead Mountain and found evidence of Ironborn activity."
"They massacred a village."
"One surviving farmer told us they headed south."
Hearing the report, Garon immediately unfolded the map again and located Oxhead Mountain.
Roughly fifty kilometers south of Sevon stood a range of hills resembling an ox's head.
The Kingsroad passed directly between the two horn-like ridges before continuing toward Moat Cailin.
"They avoided the river route and chose the mountain road?"
"That doesn't make sense."
"Wouldn't traveling by water be faster?"
Mihawk frowned.
He had waited at the crossing for most of the previous day without seeing a single Ironborn.
Ron rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"Perhaps Crow's Eye feared an ambush."
"If we learned he intended to travel by river, ravens could have been sent to White Harbor."
"Once ships blocked the waterways near Moat Cailin, Euron would have nowhere to run."
Garon looked at Ron with surprise.
"Not bad."
"Your strategic thinking has improved quite a bit lately."
Ron scratched the back of his head and laughed.
"After spending so much time following you, my lord, I had to learn something useful."
Garon smiled before returning to the discussion.
"Whether he feared an ambush or not, the situation is now clear."
"Crow's Eye is heading for Moat Cailin."
"Once he joins Victarion Greyjoy, defeating them with our current strength will become far more difficult."
His gaze swept across everyone present.
"We need more soldiers."
"We need enough men to crush the Ironborn once and for all."
Clay immediately asked.
"My Lord, what should we do?"
"Should we recruit more farmers?"
Garon shook his head.
"Farmers can haul supplies and transport goods."
"They cannot become effective soldiers overnight."
"I intend to return to Winterfell and issue a summons in the name of House Stark."
"The Northern lords will gather their banners and join us against the Ironborn."
Clay froze.
"Then... what about Sevon?"
Garon looked around at the shattered castle.
"Sevon in its current condition is not worth defending."
He placed a reassuring hand on Clay's shoulder.
"You and your men will return to Winterfell with me."
"We must secure a stronger position before the Ironborn make their next move."
Though unwilling, Clay knew Garon was right.
The castle before him was little more than a ruin.
Seeing no objections from anyone else, Garon issued the final order.
"Gather the troops."
"We're returning to Winterfell."
The army quickly assembled.
Soon afterward, the column departed Sevon and began marching back toward Winterfell.
At the same time, far to the east near a crossing of the White Knife, Ramsay Snow, the Bastard of Bolton, was leading the Dreadfort's private army across the river.
They were now less than half a day's journey from Winterfell.
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