House of the wolf

I walk outside to where Rodrick is holding his trials and take a seat at a viewing table where servants get me some mead to drink and a chicken too much on. 

 

The men taking part in the trials at this point are going through it some puking on the ground from exhaustion but none quit, not until their body breaks down.

 

As I am watching with interest Rodrick approaches me and sits beside me. 

 

“This is taking longer than I thought,” He says exasperated.

 

“What´s the hold-up?” I ask curious 

 

“Too many qualified, a lot of those who failed the test the first time around got fired up when they learned they had another chance and took the state of their body seriously for this week. In the end, too many qualified for the tests so I had to make new tests and make them tougher to pass”

 

“This is a good problem, Rodrick, what about those arriving any word?” 

 

“Those who you recruited for the Wall are arriving today, the Greatjon sent word that he will be delayed until tomorrow as he had some unexpected company but he said he would be no problem” 

 

“Unexpected company? Hmm, well you make sure to leave some open spaces for the men in their army to compete for a spot in my unit. Physicality is only the minimal requirement to get a chance. How they do in hand-to-hand combat and archery is the main requirement and keep an eye out for any unique special talents”

 

“Special talents? What do you mean?” He looks at me confused.

 

“People with abnormal strength or speed, or if you see an archer who can shoot twice as far with accuracy or even an archer with a quick draw”

 

Thud! 

 

We see a man collapse from exhaustion in front of us. I stand up and chug down my drink.

 

“You can even let those who failed the tests participate. If they offer something you consider worthwhile enough, let them through. You can announce the chance for those with special talents after the tests are done today”

 

Seeing the men work so hard got me fired up to go train myself. Since the cut on my thigh, I have not had a full training session with such intensity but now the wound has scabbed over and I feel ready to put my body through the test.

 

Leaving Ice along the bench I decide to train with a wooden greatsword. The weight of it feels even heavier than the Greatjon´s greatsword. And that is nothing to scoff at even if Greaton´s sword was blunt it could still decapitate a person. 

 

It has got to be at least three times as heavy as Ice. Swinging this thing around can be considered a form of weightlifting in itself. 

 

The goal is to become a competent fighter with this weighted practice weapon, if I can manage that, then I will be nothing short of explosive when wielding Ice.

 

So as always, I start with the breathing exercises and then do one hour of forms with the practice weapon. After that, I do another hour of intense swinging at a dummy.

 

After this, my arms and shoulders are killing me but today is not over I still have something left before I can end my training today.

 

After taking a breather I call out to the training yard “Anybody up for a spar?”

 

I am met with silence until a young man about the same age as me who was also training steps up “I am m´lord”

 

He must be a new recruit since I don´t recognize him “Good man, is that your weapon of choice?”

 

I look at his sword and shield combo.

 

He nods.

 

“Then let's begin” I stick with the heavy practice sword since the point is not to win the sparr but to become a competent fighter while wielding it.

 

He charges at me confident that I am too tired from my session to punish his recklessness a foolish decision I will make sure he never thinks of again.

 

With all my might I deliver a blow to his shield knocking him to the ground and winning the match.

 

“Next!” I called out, I decided I would spar until I lost, I feel that is the best way for me to learn. 

 

I win the next two matches without too much strenuous effort and call out “Next!”

 

In front of me my next opponent is causing murmurs amongst the crowd as who stepped up to face me next is Dacey Mormont the only woman to be a member of Robb´s battle guard.

 

She stands there ready with a wooden mace, I heard her weapon of choice in battle is a Morningstar.

 

The wooden mace is a similar weapon to the Morningstar but without the spikes. 

 

A simple weapon but one she has trained with since she was a child, like most Mormont women born after the she-bear Maege Mormont who also fights with a spiked mace.

 

While the mace is a simple weapon I can tell Dacey is not a simple fighter according to her footwork as I step around her. 

 

Light, quick, and graceful on her feet, from her stance and footwork alone I can confirm that it is not because of a reason like my brother suddenly becoming a sudden equal rights progressive that she was given a position at his battle guard.

 

She goes on the offensive striking freely at me, one of the benefits of a blunt weapon is no need to worry about the angle of your weapon as you strike.

 

I am mostly on the defensive conserving my energy as much as I can and keeping her and her mace at a distance from my body.

 

But I am starting to feel the weight of my sword with every movement my body aches.

 

She can tell that I am exhausted and does not let up increasing the pace of her attacks but leaves no opening for me to strike back at her body.

 

This is a trait I now know is shared by those experienced with true battle, her strikes are ferocious and there is not a second of hesitation in her movements no doubt in her mind what her strikes will do and what they will lead to.

 

But I also see it, I see what she is trying to do, anticipating it I evaded with my body instead of blocking with the sword and it gave me a chance for a full-force swing at her body and she is forced to block her mace.

 

My blow forced her off balance and she almost lost her grip on the mace but before I could land a second blow on her body she half-spun with her outstretched hand on her mace and landed a blow on my side in my ribs, knocking the wind out of my body as I drop the sword and fall on my back.

 

Even through the padding the blow almost fractured my ribs, it will certainly leave a bruise. I sit up coughing from pain and exhaustion hearing the hooting and hollering from the crowd at my defeat by a woman.

 

Looking up at Dacey I can see through her poker face of stoicism and can tell she is drinking in the crowd's adoration as she approaches me and extends her hand.

 

“It was a good fight, my lord despite being exhausted you nearly had me at the end there,” She says diplomatically with a smile on her face.

 

I stood up with her help, she subtly went into a stance and held her breath to support my weight making me laugh internally. 

 

Now looking down at her I respond. (while she is tall, I am tall tall)

 

“Nearly had you? You say that too lightly, even my gambit was well-read by you. I mean no slight when I say today you dispelled my notion of Robb putting you on his battle guard just because he was captivated by your beauty”

 

She tilts her head up in the air and flips her hair “No no, you had it right I am sure that my beauty was the reason” She responds smugly making the crowd laugh and whistle.

 

I laugh as well at the unexpected sense of humor. I have met one Mormont and heard tales of the lord commander Jeor Mormont and I have to say I don´t think either of them have had a belly laugh in their lives.

 

I turn to leave grabbing Ice and a change of clothes from the bench and turn when I hear footsteps behind me. 

 

Dacey standing by the bench “Could I walk with you and have a word” She asks me.

 

“If you´re willing to risk spoiling your virgin eyes then yes you can take this walk with me” I indicate my change of clothes with my eyes and offer her my arm.

 

She scoffs and rolls her eyes at my words seemingly offended.

 

“There´s nothing my eyes have not seen, after their words did not work some of the soldiers resorted to waving their cocks at me to try and win my favor during the war”

 

“... Wait, waved their coc-” She grabs my arm to walk toward the godswood of Winterfell. I file away that bit of information for now… I guess before we had dick picks we had this kind of problem. 

 

Before we head off to the godswood I think to myself if I should be worried that I have had so many encounters with women and baths and if that is something I should reflect on but then my brain kicks some sense into me, sending me sound logic.

 

Who does not like a hot bath? And who does not like women? The fact that those two things did not always coincide is nothing but a failure of my past life.