Chapter 4

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Smalljon carried Bran to the weirwood the next morning.

He lowered him gently onto a rock, then stepped back to give Lyarra room for spreading out Bran's cloak, then seating herself beside him.

"Aye," said Smalljon, "I'll return in an hour. You two, take your time."

"Thank you, Jon," said Lyarra with a gentle smile. She waited for him to disappear behind the trees before smoothing her hand through Bran's hair. "Go on, then, let us pray. Would you like for me to start, or do you wish to?"

Bran closed his eyes, cupping his hands together. "Old Gods, we ask that you hear us. Please watch over Robb. And watch over all the other men from Winterfell. And Theon, too, I suppose."

Lyarra smiled. "Of course, Theon. He may be... difficult, at times, but he is our family, too."

"He hardly speaks to us," said Bran. "He's Robb's friend. You've known him almost as long as he isn't your friend."

"Do you want to hear a secret?" Bran nodded, prompting her to lean closer. "I don't think Theon knows how to talk to girls properly."

Bran grinned, then pretended to pray, "And may Theon learn to speak to girls."

The tree gave a rustle, a raven cawing overhead. Lyarra turned at the sound of footsteps. Osha spoke, "You hear them, boy? The Old Gods are answering you."

"What are you doing here?" asked Bran, a tad harsh.

"They're my Gods, too," said Osha, reaching up to caress a branch. "Beyond the Wall, they're the only Gods. Even slaves are allowed to pray."

"You're not a slave," said Bran. She gestured to the chains on her leg. "Well, your friend did put a knife to my throat."

"I'm not complaining, little lord," said Osha, kneeling beside them. "Just telling truths."

"I'll speak to Maester Luwin about having those removed," said Lyarra kindly. "You've done nothing to show you require them." She tsked at the state of Osha's hair. "Might I–?"

Osha slowly inched closer. Lyarra carefully started working her fingers through it, nails pointed as finely as a comb. Osha gave a hiss at first, then relaxed. Bran inquired, "What did you mean about hearing the Gods?"

"You asked them, they're answering you." Osha shushed them. "Open your ears." The tree rusted again.

"It's only the wind," said Bran.

Osha shrugged. "Who do you think sends the wind if not the Gods? They see you, boy. They hear you. Your brother will get no help from them where he's going. The Old Gods have no power in the South. The weirwoods there were all cut down a long time ago. How can they watch when they have no eyes?"

"Our mother's faith is the Seven," explained Lyarra. "I've prayed to both. I believe that all forms of the gods exist. Someone will watch over Robb down there. He's got all our bannermen, including House Umber. Smalljon's told me they are all built like giants. They'll protect him."

"Are there really giants beyond the Wall?" asked Bran.

"Giants and worse than giants," said Osha. "I tried telling your brother, he's marching the wrong way. All these swords, they should be going north, boy. North, not south. The cold winds are rising."

The first raven after Robb's departure arrived with news of Jaime Lannister's army smashing the river lords at the Golden Tooth, now laying siege to Riverrun. Lady Catelyn had been busy prior to making contact with Robb's army, seizing Lord Tyrion and taking him to the Eyrie for judgment after what'd happened to Bran.

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