CHAPTER 130
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Among the ancient barrows of the First Men, across frozen fields and patches of scorched earth, the cold wind howled relentlessly, whipping snow through the air and striking against Garon's face.
Five days had passed since the Northern army divided its forces.
During those five days, Garon had led a thousand Northmen drawn from House Glover, House Karstark, and several smaller noble houses, sweeping across the Barrowlands like a gray tide.
For five straight days, he hunted the scattered Ironborn with ruthless efficiency.
The army searched through ancient barrows, forests, hills, valleys, and abandoned settlements as thoroughly as a hunter combing through brush for prey.
One group after another of Ironborn stragglers was tracked down and destroyed.
Some of the Ironborn still attempted to reach the western coast.
Others had completely abandoned any hope of organized retreat and degenerated into little more than beasts, occupying deserted villages and ancient caves while surviving through plunder and murder.
Yet as the campaign continued, Garon began noticing another disturbing problem.
The Ironborn were not the only threat spreading through the region.
Large numbers of displaced farmers and refugees had also begun turning to banditry.
Driven by hunger and desperation, they preyed upon one another, gathering into increasingly dangerous groups that roamed throughout the North.
The realization greatly troubled him.
What exactly is Lady Barbrey Dustin doing?
Has she become so consumed by old grudges that she cannot see what is happening around her?
Garon immediately understood the likely cause.
Lady Barbrey Dustin of Barrowton had once again chosen inaction.
In times of peace, such behavior might be tolerated.
Lord Eddard Stark had often allowed his bannermen considerable freedom so long as they fulfilled their obligations.
But the North was not at peace.
The Ironborn invasion had thrown entire regions into chaos.
If Barrowton continued sitting idle while refugees and bandits multiplied, the situation would only worsen.
Every day of delay created more outlaws.
More violence.
More suffering.
Garon's anger steadily rose.
Unfortunately, he possessed no authority to directly command Lady Barbrey.
His current position granted him military authority over operations against the Ironborn.
It did not grant him the right to interfere in the internal governance of House Dustin.
In the end, he could only compromise.
"Send riders to Barrowton."
His voice was cold.
"Inform Lady Dustin that she must begin restoring order immediately."
"If these farmers continue becoming bandits, there will be no one left to plant crops when spring arrives."
The messenger departed immediately.
Afterward, Garon continued leading the army toward Torrhen's Square.
The silence surrounding Torrhen's Square still bothered him.
Something was wrong there.
He intended to discover what.
The army marched for another half day.
By late afternoon they arrived at a small settlement known as Acorn Hall.
The moment Garon saw it, he sighed heavily.
The village had been destroyed.
Only blackened timbers remained standing, jutting stubbornly toward the gray sky like skeletal fingers.
The air carried a sickening mixture of smells.
Burned wood.
Burned grain.
And something far worse.
Snow-covered ground had been trampled into mud and ice.
Footprints crisscrossed everywhere.
Dark stains of frozen blood marked the scene of slaughter.
Near the entrance of the village, the body of a peasant woman hung frozen from a tree.
Her lifeless eyes stared upward toward the heavens as though questioning the gods themselves.
Jon Snow's jaw tightened.
"Animals."
The word escaped through clenched teeth.
Garon remained silent.
Unfortunately, this was not the first village they had encountered in such a condition.
Over the past several days, he had seen far too many similar scenes.
With a gesture, he ordered several soldiers forward.
The men cautiously entered the ruins and began searching for survivors.
Before long, a faint sound emerged from beneath a collapsed cellar.
Sobbing.
The soldiers carefully cleared away debris.
Moments later, they pulled out a boy no older than ten.
He was painfully thin.
His face was covered in soot and frozen tear stains.
Every inch of his body trembled uncontrollably.
Fear filled his wide eyes.
"Someone's alive!"
The cry immediately drew attention.
Garon dismounted and approached.
Removing one gauntlet, he unclipped a waterskin from his belt and crouched before the child.
"Slowly."
His voice softened.
"Drink slowly."
The contrast between the heavily armored lord and his gentle tone was striking.
The boy eagerly drank several mouthfuls.
Then he began coughing violently.
Fresh tears streamed down his face.
"They killed my father..."
"They took my sister..."
"My mother..."
His words dissolved into incoherent sobs.
His entire body shook like a leaf caught in a winter storm.
Without speaking, Garon rested a hand upon the boy's shoulder.
Then he removed his fur-lined cloak and wrapped it around him.
The child's body felt frighteningly thin beneath the fabric.
"Are there any others?"
The boy simply shook his head.
He was too terrified to answer.
At that moment, another survivor emerged.
An elderly farmer slowly limped out from behind a ruined wall, using a charred piece of wood as a walking stick.
One arm hung uselessly in a crude sling made from torn cloth.
Fresh blood stained the bandages.
"Lord Stark?"
The old man looked at Garon hopefully.
For a brief moment, a spark of life appeared in his cloudy eyes.
Then despair swallowed it again.
"What happened here?"
Garon did not bother correcting the mistake.
Instead, he stepped closer.
The old farmer's voice sounded like a broken bellows.
"The Ironborn."
"They came three days ago."
"There weren't many."
"Several dozen."
"But they were like starving wolves."
His face twisted with pain.
"They took everything."
"The grain."
"The food stores."
"The cellars."
"They even took the seed grain."
"Anyone who resisted was killed."
"The women were taken."
"The older children too."
The old man choked.
For a moment, he could not continue.
Finally, he raised his good arm and pointed toward a dark patch in the snow.
Following his gaze, Garon noticed a crude wooden doll lying half-buried in the ice.
His fist tightened instantly.
Since arriving in this world, Garon had experienced countless struggles.
Politics.
War.
Death.
Power.
He had long adapted to life as a noble.
At times he even believed his heart had become hard enough to treat life and death as simple necessities.
Yet standing in the ruins of this village, he realized that some things still angered him deeply.
Some injustices remained impossible to ignore.
"Which way did they go?"
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
Beneath it lurked a storm.
Compared to the devastation before him, Lady Dustin's continued inaction only became more infuriating.
The old farmer pointed westward.
"Toward the river."
"They said they were returning to the sea."
"They talked about heading south along the river near the western lakes."
The old man drew a shaky breath.
Then he pleaded.
"My lord."
"Please kill them."
"You must avenge us."
Garon met the old man's gaze.
For a long moment neither spoke.
Then he nodded solemnly.
"The North remembers."
The old farmer's eyes reddened.
Turning toward Jon Snow, Garon immediately issued instructions.
"Give the survivors food."
"Then assign an escort."
"Take them to the nearest settlement still capable of protecting them."
Jon nodded firmly.
"It will be done."
Garon cast one final glance at the ruined village.
The frozen bodies.
The burned homes.
The shattered lives.
Then he turned away.
His expression became cold.
"Order the army to increase its pace."
His voice carried a dangerous edge.
"I want us at the nearest ferry crossing before sunset."
His gaze swept across the gathered soldiers.
"And hear me clearly."
"Any armed Ironborn we encounter will be shown no mercy."
"No prisoners."
The army immediately sprang into motion.
Fueled by anger and grim determination, a thousand Northmen surged westward across the snow, carrying with them a murderous resolve that seemed almost tangible.
The hunt had begun once again.
{🥳 Loving the story so far? Craving more chapters? 🥰
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