Game of Thrones: Winter Lord

"You must take my place for now, just as I take our father's place—until we return home."

"When the war is over, I will come back at once."

"Mother will return soon, and I will bring Father back. I promise you."

Bran sat alone in Winterfell's study, Robb's words still echoing in his ears. The place felt desolate. Little Rickon remained as stubborn as ever. Everyone was gone—his father, his mother, his sisters. And now, even his eldest brother, Robb, had left.

He gazed out the window in a daze. Winterfell had never been so quiet. The world felt utterly still.

He thought of Osha's warning: "The power of the old gods does not reach the south. The weirwood trees there have long been cut down."

Bran clenched his jaw, stubbornly thinking that whether it was the old gods or the new, they had to watch over his family and bring them home safely.

Shagga led yesterday's group to escort Cole and the others as they set out to persuade the other mountain clans.

The nearest was the Black Ear tribe—a fierce people known for cutting off their enemies' ears as trophies of victory. They were deeply vengeful, believing that revenge was the mark of true bravery.

As soon as Cole and his companions approached, a group of warriors surrounded them. Their leader stepped forward, calling out in a loud voice, "Shagga, son of Dolf of the Stone Crows, why have you brought outsiders into our lands?"

The leader was a woman—thin and wiry, her chest flat as the Dornish sands. Her skin was dark, and deep scars ran across her face, a testament to the battles she had fought.

Shagga answered, "Zira, daughter of Zeke, this is the son of Tywin Lannister, and he wishes to speak with you."

Suspicion flickered in Zira's eyes. When she took a closer look and realized he was just a half-man, she burst into laughter.

"Are there no men left in the Stone Crow tribe?" she scoffed.

Shagga bristled at the insult. "The men of the Stone Crows are the finest warriors among the free folk!"

Zira's eyes gleamed with disdain. She had taken plenty of ears from Stone Crow warriors in the past.

"Perhaps you should test whether this half-man is truly a man," Tyrion stepped forward with a smirk. "I promise you, he'll leave you unable to rise from bed."

"Take your half-man pet and leave, Shagga," Zira snapped. "Unless you wish to spark a war between our tribes."

Shagga didn't back down. "Shagga will cut off every manhood in the Black Ear tribe!" he snarled.

At once, the Black Ear warriors erupted into curses, drawing their swords, ready to strike. The Stone Crows were not far behind, shouting back as steel flashed in the firelight. The tension thickened, a fight seconds away from breaking out.

Bringing a horde of wild tribesmen to negotiate hardly seemed the wisest choice.

"Shagga," Tyrion's voice rang out like a clap of thunder. "Don't you want those fine things I promised?"

The Stone Crows fell silent at once.

The Black Ear warriors, seeing them cowed by a mere half-man, burst into mocking laughter, taunting them with sneers and jeers.

Shagga's face turned red with fury.

"Zira, daughter of Zeke," Tyrion said smoothly, ignoring the insults. "We did not come here to fight your tribe. We came to discuss business."

"Business?" Zira sneered. "What business could a half-man possibly offer? Are you here to sell yourself to us?"

"Chor, draw your sword," Tyrion commanded suddenly.

With a sharp sching, two blades were unsheathed. The Black Ear warriors instinctively tensed, their hands gripping their weapons.

Tyrion stepped forward, taking the blade Winter Night from Cole's hands.

"Easy," he said, waving the sword lightly. "We mean no harm."

He turned and slashed at a nearby branch. With a sharp crack, the thick limb snapped and tumbled to the ground.

"Do you see this sword?" Tyrion asked, holding it up for Zira to inspect. Then, with a knowing smirk, he handed it to her.

Zira took the sword in astonishment. The moment it touched her hands, it was as cold as a blizzard. She ran a finger along the blade, and a thin layer of dead skin split open.

"I can give you countless swords like this," Tyrion said.

Zira's expression finally turned serious. "I don't believe the words of a half-man."

"I guarantee it on the honor of House Lannister," Tyrion replied smoothly, then kicked Shagga's leg. "And the Stone Crows can vouch for me as well. Isn't that right?"

Shagga grunted, "Aye. The half-man also has armor and axes. If he lies, we'll feed him to the goats."

Zira's eyes flickered with uncertainty as she weighed the offer. After a moment, she asked, "And what do you want from us?"

"Fight for me, and I will arm you. You've seen the knights of the Vale, haven't you? My weapons and armor are far superior to theirs."

Zira seemed tempted. "This is a matter for the whole tribe. You'll come with us back to our camp."

"Of course."

Tyrion's confidence unsettled her slightly, but she was beginning to believe him. She glanced at the Stone Crows before asking, "Why do you need us if you already have them?"

"I need more warriors," Tyrion answered. "I can't afford to arm every free man in the mountains, but I can arm those who fight for me."

Zira nodded, then tossed the sword back. Cole caught it midair and slid it back into its scabbard. Now, both longswords rested at his waist.

As Zira led them deeper into Black Ear territory, she said, "I can convince the Moon Brothers to join us as well."

They walked through the camp, drawing curious glances from the tribespeople. A few free folk gathered nearby, eyeing Cole and the others with expressions that were hard to read.

Zira led them to a large wooden longhouse and left them there under the guard of her two sons while she gathered the tribe.

Unlike other mountain clans, the Black Ear tribe had no elders. Only the bravest warriors could lead, and Zira, despite being a woman, was their current chief. She had severed forty-eight ears with her own hands, and her sons had claimed fifty between them.

Still, the Black Ears were not a unified tribe. Major decisions required the voice of the people.

While Zira was away, six or seven men suddenly burst into the longhouse.

Her sons moved to block them, but one of the men sneered, "Zed, Zib. Are you going to stand in the way of Black Ear's vengeance?"

Zira's sons exchanged uncertain glances.

One of the intruders shoved past them and snarled, "They're the ones who killed Kamu!"

He rattled off several names, but Cole didn't recognize them. What he did know was that these men had come with blood in their eyes.

Tyrion looked around, bewildered. What in the seven hells is this? Didn't they agree to gather for a meeting?

Before he could piece it together, the Black Ear warriors rushed forward, weapons drawn.

Zira's sons didn't intervene. Among the Black Ears, revenge was sacred—no one had the right to stop it.

Cole moved like lightning. He drew Winter Night in a single fluid motion, stepping between Tyrion and the attackers.

The first man barely had time to react before Cole's sword slashed across his chest, sending him sprawling. Without pausing, Cole spun and cut another across the throat. The warrior clutched at the wound in horror before collapsing.

The sudden carnage sent a wave of hesitation through the remaining avengers.

Bronn took full advantage, whipping out his dagger and driving it into another man's throat. In mere moments, half their attackers lay dead or dying on the ground.

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