Oathkeeper

Chapter 64: Lady Helenys, The Damsel of Karhold

Prince Rickon and Lady Greyjoy were sent out to their destinations the day after the small council devised their plan to recruit more allies. When the carriage finally stopped outside of Castle Karhold, nearly fifteen days later Rickon practically jumped through the wooden walls to get out. They were rarely allowed to make stops. Occasionally Rickon was allowed to exit in order to relieve himself, stretch, and rest. Any requests he made beyond that were ignored as the knights and horse coachman who had precise orders from the Queens'.

For the majority of the trip, he remained silent and discreetly jealous as he watched the insects buzz by in a blissful freedom out the window. There was little entertainment for him inside. Ser Malson was sent to accompany Lady Greyjoy to White Harbor, and his other preferred choice of companionship, Ilizabeth, was off on her own journey. Ser Malson was one of the six men in Winterfell at the time who had some level of sailing experience and although he had only been on a boat once, he was chosen by the Lady herself.

Which left Rickon to travel with the knight Sansa picked to accompany him. The most uninteresting man in the world, Ser Craig of the Queensguard. The man's personality was duller than a sparring sword. He only spoke when Rickon addressed him first, and barely went beyond a few short words when he did. For most of the ride he continuously dozed off whilst sitting straight up, leaning and stumbling awake every time the carriage hit something rocky as they rode by the frosted river.

Rickon was sure he was going to die from an idle mind, but when the familiarly strong river soil hit his nostrils he felt a youthful bolt of life return within. Ser Craig was the first one on his feet. His armor rattled as he stepped down, holding the door open wide for the young prince. Rickon took his time down the small flight. He immediately looked up at the great castle, squinting in amazement as the bright morning sun blinded him. Karhold was built along the Grey Cliffs, and sat perched up on two large rock mountains. From what he remembered, the castle was often in the midst of light fog. Giving it an appearance as mean as the Karstark reputation.

He didn't tell his mothers' of about the nerves that festered inside of him. From the moment they began preparing him for the task he felt a lump form in the back of his throat. His mothers' needed allies, and somehow they decided he was the man to recruit one of the most important houses in the North. The thought of failing loomed over him like a stormy cloud. It showered negative thoughts and outcomes until he was forced to shut his brain off. He tried to distract himself by playing word games with Ser Craig, but the knight struggled to catch onto the rules.

He imagined if his sister was here, they would have sent her instead. There were some moments where Rickon took it personally, but this would not have been one of those moments. Although he would never admit it outloud, he knew his sister was smarter than him. She naturally excelled at everything she did and paid close attention to even the smallest details of a story. Despite being hundreds of miles beyond the wall, Rickon imagined that because he naturally tuned out most of the long speeches his mothers gave him, Ilizabeth would still be more prepared for this than he is.

Rickon rubbed his hands against his doublet, smoothing out any wrinkles that formed from sitting on his ass for almost a full day before following Ser Craig to the opening gate. The other two knights remained by the carriage as Ser Craig and Rickon passed the Karstark men guarding the gate and approached the bottom of the stairs.

Rickon spotted the dark haired man he'd known as Lady Karstarks husband, Lord Beren Tallhart, from across the long cobblestone walkway. After the Great Wars Sansa made sure any Lady left in charge of her house kept their name when they were wed. Their children would take their mothers surname, and the husband could keep his if he pleased.

He stood at a considerable height and appeared to have a somewhat lean stature hidden underneath his dumpy carob tunic. Coming across the shoulders and chest was a sheet mesh chain that served as decorative armor. His hair was cut short, and his beard was scruffy. He held an awkwardly long smile that heightened Rickons insecurity as he slowly approached the Lord with his recovering leg. Although he could go on without his cane for a good while, he had to pace himself just above the elderly back in Winterfell to keep it that way.