The King of Winters

Calm before a Storm

The town smelled of salt, the same as the Bay of Crabs to the east, shimmering green and blue in the morning sun. The ship which had brought them here, Fury swayed in the waters, docked in the port of the Saltpans. The ship was bigger that it couldn't take them further upriver in the Trident and so they needed to dock her here. Looking at his men unloading the things and horses down from the ship Robert thought as if he had made a wrong decision by choosing the war galley Fury for this voyage. With three hundred oars, three decks and three huge masts with the one in the middle towering over the ones on the sides, the flagship of the Baratheon fleet seemed the perfect choice for this voyage. The deck above her oars was covered completely with scorpions. Topside she had catapults mounted fore and aft. Fury was formidable and swift and that's why his brother Stannis had chosen the war galley especially for this voyage. In the place of her usual golden colored sails with the crowned stag of House Baratheon painted on them there were plain white sails used by the commoners and merchants as to never really attract any eyes of the others. A slender ship would've taken them straight to Riverrun by the Trident and would've saved a good time for them, but then a slender ship couldn't have brought all these men and the horses for their journey by land. 

The Lord of Storm's End wasn't a man of patience. So when the men finished unloading their things Robert started their journey to Riverrun without wasting any time. Cersei had to say something about his decision but Robert was not ready to hear it. His wife muttered some curses under her breath until the children got to her. He knew they all were tired but still they had to do it. The sea had already stolen a good amount of time away from them and he wasn't ready to do it with the land too. 

Saltpans was a small town truly. A small castle dominated the town; no more than a holdfast, really, a single tall square keep with a bailey and a curtain wall. Most of the shops and inns and alehouses around the harbor were filled with a good number of people. The crew and the servants of the ships which were already docked in the Port before Fury brought them here, thought Robert looking at the men laughing and singing in the inns and alehouses. Most of the buildings looked inhabited but some of the buildings here and there stood half broken and burnt. The folks of Saltpans looked at their big party with curious eyes but the sights of noble Lords were not so rare in ports, so their curiousness died as quickly as they started to mount their horses with their banners streaming in the sea breeze. 

They began their journey north along the Trident. The river was only an accustomed channel here, not the true mighty one he'd seen with Ned when they had come down from the Eyrie to see the Grand Tourney of Harrenhal. Robert could remember the time even now after all those terrible things that had started from there. He could remember the journey down from the Eyrie with Ned. Gods, they had a good time in that journey away from Jon's eyes. He could remember the first time he had seen Lyanna, the memory had enlightened him too much once but now it had turned sour. He could remember the Tourney alive with knights from throughout the Seven Kingdoms. He remembered his drinking competition with Richard Lonmouth. He remembered the seven sided melee in which he won by unhorsing most of his competitors. He had never felt so alive than being in a fight and it came to him naturally. He remembered Rhaegar unhorsing people left and right just like he'd done in the melee. He had been jesting with Jon and the Old Lord Eon Hunter when Rhaegar destroyed the entire thing by crowing Lyanna as his Queen of Love and Beauty and in turn shaming his wife and Houses Stark and Baratheon. Robert had wanted nothing more than to knock him down from the horse and beat him bloody, the Gods knew he had wanted to do that so badly. Yet both Jon and Ned's face stopped him from doing so. Manners, Jon had taught him that and he had somehow held his smiling composure and brushed off his insult with a jest, as gently as he could. But Robert knew he may get the chance again. He will avenge Ned's death no matter what. And if he was to die in the attempt he would die gladly, but no matter what he would drag Rhaegar all the way to hell along with him before ripping his heart out and drinking from his skull with the stranger himself.