Frozen Stone

SEVEN

Osha and Maranda walked into the trader’s post outside Last Hearth where the farmers gathered to sell their goods. The sun was low in the sky, meaning that everyone was dropping off the last of what little resources they had managed to gather in the cold winter’s day. Smoke billowed from the inn’s chimney, offering a warm refuge from the bitter northern wind and just the thought of going inside and filling her stomach with a hot stew was making Maranda’s mouth water. It was tempting to walk inside and spoil herself and Osha, but Maranda was a woman of her word. Suddenly aware of the hesitant and suspicious stares they were receiving, she came to a stop in the centre of the yard.

“Can we help you, m’Ladies?” a man spoke, stepping forwards. Maranda guessed by his decent clothing and fat belly that he was the owner of the post, so she reached for the sack of gold that Jon had given her.

“I have a gift for your workers,” she announced as she untied the rope. “I heard that winter is making you all suffer, that you are running out of coins. I heard that Robb Stark, your precious Warden of the North, declined to help you.”

“Don’t speak ill of our Warden,” the man growled, though Maranda didn’t entirely believe the meaning behind his words.

“She only speaks the truth,” Osha said, giving her input with a snarl that made the man’s confidence falter.

“I stole from him. I took what is rightfully yours,” Maranda continued before tossing the bag forwards. It fell open on impact and revealed the pile of Gold Dragons. After a glance to ensure the two armed women were staying put, the trader rushed forwards and scooped up the pouch, checking its contents. His creased brow gradually faded and a smile brightened his pale face.

“Is this real? Is this really for us?” he asked, full of such hope that Maranda couldn’t help but grin broadly.

“Yes, my good man. We want all of you hard workers, your wives and your children, to live through this winter.”

“And for what in return?”

“Nothing,” Osha replied, a rare smile gracing her lips too and breaking her rough demeanour.

“Well- actually,” Maranda chuckled as she brushed a hand down her muddied armour front. “We need a place to stay tonight, and a meal.”

“You can both have anything you desire,” the man agreed with a nod. “Please, join us inside after I pass this around.” The women nodded and stood to the side, watching as the peasants flocked to the trader and received a coin each. Just one Gold Dragon was sufficient to feed their loved ones and heat their homes for a considerable amount of time, and no doubt save lives. As if the thought of doing good wasn’t enough, Maranda and Osha received plenty of thanks from the workers as they walked past, tears, wide smiles and shocked stuttering proving just how much of a difference they were making. Eventually the trader brought them inside for a free meal, the offer of as much ale as they could drink, and the finest room available upstairs. With large grins, they dug into fresh bread and a vegetable soup, only to stop a few mouthfuls later as a redhead woman sat down in front of them.

“I saw what you did out there,” she spoke, her accent immediately revealing that she had come from beyond the Wall. “I really admire that. You’re honest people.” Maranda exchanged a glance with Osha before focusing on the new woman.

“Well, it’s usually us, the ones who aren’t almighty lords or ladies, who are the most honest,” Maranda remarked, Osha giving a smirk of acknowledgement.

“I was going to steal from this village, you know. Been planning it for days now, biding my time to strike with my friends. But you… You steal far more than we ever could, and there’s only two of you,” the redhead continued, Osha’s hand naturally sliding to her waist to find her dagger as she became suspicious of the newcomer.

“What’s your point?” Osha blurted, making the redhead pause.

“We want to join you. It’s me and three other women, from north of the Wall. We know how to fight, and we’d love to steal from the rich, pompous lords and ladies of the North,” she smirked and Maranda signalled at the barmaid to bring over another drink. Once the ale had been slammed in front of the newcomer, she raised her own mug.

“Maranda,” she said with a tiny grin from the excitement of gaining more companions. “Let’s talk…” Maranda trailed off, looking for a name.

“Ygritte.”
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Who is happy to see Ygritte join the group?