Story Arc Five: Ambassador of Fate

King Jon Stark had managed to sleep well for the remaining hours of the night but, despite the good night's rest, it didn't take him long to become displeased.

"Seems like I should hurry to Braavos," Jon said with concern. "My sister is going to need me."

While it is true the secret god had decided to heavily restrain the use of his powers for various reasons, he had made an exception so far when it came to foreseeing the future. About a fortnight past, he made a wish so that he would get a mental warning three days in advance if any of his siblings would be injured to the point of **** had he not been around them at the time to help.

That was how he had remained certain that Rickon, Bran, and Arya were safe while he had been focusing on reclaiming the North. And barely a few minutes after he freshened up in the morning, the wish was activated inside his mind and he became aware with perfect clarity that his little sister's life would end in three days if she was left to her own devices.

Now that he knew about that, however, he could work to rescue her and change that potential future, since his wish specified the warning to get loud if that were to happen without his interference in any way. Becoming aware of the facts, however, and moving fast enough would make all the difference in this outcome.

So, with that in mind, he accelerated his pace as he entered the Merman Court, eager to speak with Wyman Manderly and tell him the cover story he had come up with. He found him at his artistically carved throne, reading a letter with rapt attention. Soon enough, though, he noticed his liege.

"Oh, my king," The ruler of White Harbor said. "Forgive me. I was distracted by this letter."

"Not to worry," Jon said politely. "Any interesting news?"

"Well, my scouts report that the Knights of the Vale have already crossed the Neck and are heading towards Ironrath as fast they can," Lord Wyman said. "Apparently, they decided to just send an army of 3000 riders so that they could travel at a quicker pace and regroup with your army in time. Those were apparently the knights with the fastest and sturdiest horses in their kingdom, if the reports are to be believed. Tactically sound, I believe. It's better when the reinforcements arrive to help before the battle is done, after all."

"As for the rest of the army that left the Vale," He went on. "Another host of 2000 knights that had slower horses, on the other hand, ended up staying in the Riverlands after a meeting with the Blackfish. Which, by the way, was definitely an excellent choice for Warden of the Trident territories," He conceded. "Regardless, while you have broken most of the Lannister presence on their kingdom, some stragglers have left their hiding holes since your dragon was seen returning North, and started banding back together to start raiding several farming villages on the way to the Westerlands in one direction and another group to the Crownlands. So, the Blackfish convinced them to go hunt down and rout the Lannister soldiers that looting everything they could on the way to King's Landing. Apparently, it took some convincing but Littlefinger eventually allowed it once he was told they were looting their way to his new seat of Harrenhall, according to their own scouts."

"I see," The young king said slowly, glad that the Blackfish managed to get the aid he needed without him there to help astride his dragon. "What about Winterfell? Any reports on what Ramsay has been doing?"

"As a matter of fact, I was just reading about that right now," The Lord replied. "I sent a couple of spies to the town near your ancestral home once the Boltons started befouling its halls. One of them decided that delivering this message via raven by secretly breaking into the rookery was worth breaking his cover. Good lad, I certainly hope he had managed to escape to safety."

"You and me both," Jon responded with a raised eyebrow as he imagined the courage it would take for him to do that under Ramsay's sadistic watch. "What exactly was worth the risk, then?"

"My informant tells me that the brutal kinslayer managed to hire the sellswords that deserted Stannis for some reason shortly before the battle where Ramsay defeated him," He explained. "Well, those that remained in the North at least for one reason or another but mainly the snows making it difficult to travel on foot. Apparently, he is waiting for the large group of mercenaries to arrive from the lands of the treacherous Karstarks in order to reinforce his army, now that your own forces have destroyed his Whitehill bannermen. He is not entirely sure about the final numbers, but the spy believes that will boost the Bolton numbers to at least 6000 swords. Whether he plans to use his larger **** to better defend Winterfell or seek you out is the part my informant doesn't really know," The highborn added.

"Oh, he will try to attack us," Jon said with confidence. "He must be aware by now that the Knights of the Vale are moving against him. If he waits too long he will lose the strength in numbers, even with those sellswords. Besides, he is not going to waste the chance to capture Sansa while his own reports might indicate that my dragon and I are away. Did your spy mentioned when does Ramsay expects his hired blades to arrive?"

"In two days at most, it seems," Lord Wyman replied.

Jon took a deep breath and nodded, feeling determined. "Then, he will march on Ironrath in no more than 3 days. And this time, I refuse to even give them the chance to make a week-long siege. How many riders at arms do you have under your command, Lord Manderly?"

"That can march within the day if I give the order?" The ruler of White Harbor asked, probably sensing where he was going. "Around 600. I could probably make it 850 between all the petty lords and landed knights under my command if you give me two days instead, your Grace."

"Make it a day and a half," The young king commanded. "But no more. As as soon as noon rises tomorrow, I want the knights you have gathered to march towards Ironrath as if the demons are chasing them. They can regroup with the host from the Vale if they happen to come across them on the way but otherwise, let's focus on merging our forces together. The battle will be decided in the Northern Wolfswood."

"It shall be done, my king!" Lord Manderly assured him with a bow. "Anything else?"

"Yes," Jon said in agreement. "It will take longer, I know, but once you have your foot soldiers properly organized, have them march on Winterfell. We still don't know how long it will take to defeat House Bolton but if news reaches them that we have reconquered my family ancestral seat from the soldiers they left behind, some of his men might lose heart and surrender."

The secret god knew that he could have a harder time justifying his teleportation powers this time around because as far as he knew, the only Weirwood Tree in White Harbor was inside the walls of their old prison so it would be impossible to maintain that cover story he put in place for such a large ****. So, the rest of the Manderly army was going to have to travel to Winterfell the old fashioned way.

Regardless his host didn't seem disappointed when he explained his transportation powers needed to regrow with his energy before he could try it again, as Lord Manderly pounded his chest with vigor. "You do me a great honor, your Grace, by trusting me to liberate your home from that Bolton filth. I will lead the host myself. And don't you worry about not being able to magically send us there. I swear to you, my king, that when you return from your victorious campaign, I shall be there to greet you at the open gates of Winterfell."

The young king nodded at him with respect in his gaze. "I am sure you'll succeed and that it shall be a day-long remembered."

At that, the ruler of White Harbor went on his way out of the hall, probably to speak with his Maester so that he could send ravens all over his territory. Before he could open the door, however, he paused and turned back. Hesitating, he focused on Jon again.

"There is still a very important matter that requires your attention, your Grace," Lord Wyman said slowly. "The other pair of important guests that arrived yesterday."

The young king frowned. "Can it wait? While contacting my Faceless ally in King's Landing, I gained an urgent reply from him," He said like he had planned, after having made some slight alterations to the memories of the Maester in the rookery of White Harbor. "Apparently, he was informed by a member of his order that they had taken in my sister Arya for training after she fled to Braavos during the chaos of the War of the Five Kings. So, he told me that if I wanted to convince her to return home, I better do that before she finishes her initiation. As a result, I was seriously considering making a quick trip across the Narrow Sea on the powerful wings of my Ice Dragon before returning from Braavos with my Stark sibling in tow. I shouldn't even stay more than a couple of hours in the Free City if all goes well."

The white-haired man's eyes widened widely in surprise at his remarks. "That's excellent news! We thought Arya was dead. Her return to the North will certainly look like a good sign, especially after we defeat the usurpers of House Bolton."

Then he hesitated again. "I won't pretend to command you, sire, but I still think you will want to meet with these visitors sooner rather than later."

Jon raised an eyebrow. "Why exactly?"

"Because the highborn that spoke for the group displayed his mastery of magic openly," He revealed. "They are Stoneborn from the usually isolationist island of Skagos, your Grace, and they claim to have come to pledge their banners to your cause...and according to them, so much more."