GoT: Whisper of Ice and Fire

{1} Tower of Sorrow

                               { Eddard Stark }
                                  \ — — — — /

Seven riders crossed under the hot windswept sky as the blazing sun beat down on them. Even the air itself was dry in the barren mountains of Dorne around the Princes Pass. The riders ascended a rocky ridge that was clear of life and from atop it they could see the tower. It was a squat stone drum tower without a curtain wall or any form of defences. 'I'm nearly there Lyanna. I've come to save you.'

They were seven and they rode fast from Storms End after the Redwyne and Tyrell Lords dripped their banners and ended their siege. They spent only a single night in the castle being hosted by Stannis Baratheon before the seven departed with great haste rushing through the Dornish Marches and into the Red Mountains of Dorne.

From the ridge they could see the towers base and the three figures that stood in the towers shadow. The sun glinted off the silver of their armour and a breeze swept their pristine white cloaks up in a swirl of fabric. It was clear to the seven riders who it was that stood vigil outside the tower. The six followed their liege Lord down the dirt track until they stood close enough to make out the white cloaks faces.

Eddard Stark moved his horse slightly ahead of his companions and looked at the three waiting knights. Ser Gerold Hightower stood to the left, his white cloak swaying gently in the breeze as he calmly unsheathed his longsword from his side. He was old now nearing his fiftieth year but he was still strong as the bull which he derived his name. The White Bull they called him, old he maybe but he served for over thirty years and was as skilled a swordsman as any knight alive today, except for the man beside him.

To the left was Ser Oswell Whent he sat stooped in the dirt casually as he dragged a whetstone slowly down his naked blade in long strokes. The sound of stone on steel echoed through the silence as he stood, nodded to his brothers and put in his helmet. Only then did he look at the young Northern Lord and malice shone through the slits of his helmet and a magnificent helmet it was with the an obsidian black bat of House Whent adorning the top with its wings spread wide.

The third man stood between the two and he was the most dangerous of them all, the most dangerous man on Westeros and the most well respected. He was Ser Arthur Dayne, The Sword of the Morning. His white and silver armour was pristine where Ser Oswell's was sand dirtied and Ser Gerold's was battered. His famous greatsword Dawn jutted from the sand where it had been stabbed and hanging from the pommel was Ser Arthur's gilded whit helm. He nodded to Lord Stark respectfully which was more than his brothers had done and Eddard returned the gesture with a nod from his horse.

"Lord Stark." He said tonelessly

"Ser." Eddard said but there was a chill to his voice, despite being the greatest knight of the time and despite the fact he was only upholding his oath to his King this was still the man who had helped Rhaegar Targaryen, the Last Dragon, abduct his sister.

"I looked for you on the trident." He said to the knight, dropping from his horse to the sound of weapons being drawn by his companions behind him who remained in their saddles.

"We weren't there." Ser Arthur replied plainly.

"Woe to the Usurper and his dogs had we been." Ser Gerold sounded tired as he said it but he snarled the word Usurper and directed the word Dog pointedly at the Lord.

"Ser Barristan the Bold bent his knee to Robert after Rhaegar died. Ser Jamie bloodied his golden sword when he saw the throne was lost. I thought you might do the same." He said in a tone that suggested he knew it to be fruitless.