White Harbor's gate was behind us. The road ahead was rutted and half-frozen. The mule steamed. Men pulled cloth higher over their mouths.
Rae sat on the front plank with the reins in her hands. She wasn't yanking the mule, but her grip was tight. Arry rode close on a small pony, wrapped in grey, watching both sides of the road like she expected someone to step out.
I kept above them, not high but just enough to see over the hedges.
Rae looked up at me. "Winterfell was the plan," she said. Each word clipped. "You wrote NORTH on my map. Now you're dragging me south and west. The Riverlands are burning. No carts want that road. Do you hear me?"
I heard her and didn't answer.
Gerrin walked by the traces and tried to step in. "Rae… roads close. Word is, Freys take coin for the Twins, but beyond..."
"I know the talk," she cut him off. "I asked for carts going Riverward. Three men told me no. So now I'm paying for a mule, paying for a cart, and paying two blades to ride my flanks because you..." She lifted the end of the rein and pointed at me. Then she dropped it and breathed out hard. "Because you decided."
Fair.
I dropped onto the plank beside her and pressed my head against her shoulder softly.
"Don't you 'sweet' me," she said, but her mouth twitched. I nudged under her chin, feathered and stubborn.
She let out a short laugh she didn't mean to. Her hand came up and rubbed the feathers near my eye. Then she stopped herself, cleared her throat, and looked forward again.
"You're trouble," she said, quieter. "The worst kind."
Arry watched from the side like she wasn't watching. Her eyes went from Rae's hand to me and back. The corner of her mouth lifted for a second, then she turned her face away fast.
Garrad rode on the left with a spear across his lap. "Road's yours, Rae," he said. "I'll tell you plain. The Young Wolf's in the Riverlands. Robb Stark. If anyone can spare men or sense, it's him." He tipped his chin at me. "Your bird keeps pointing where the fighting is."
Rae didn't answer. She kept the cart moving.
Wullin, the hired Northman, walked ahead with his hand close to his belt. Tyce, the quiet Riverman, kept behind, watching the hedges. Gerrin kept the mule steady.
No other carts went our way. Everyone else took the safer roads.
I flew forward and saw smoke ahead, low and dark, a short distance off the road. Not a hearth. Too much, too spread.
I came back low over the cart, close enough to make Rae look up. Then I flew forward again and cut left toward the treeline, then back to the road.
Garrad tracked me. "Something's up," he said.
Wullin slowed. Tyce tightened his spacing behind. Gerrin stopped talking and just listened. Arry pulled her pony closer to the cart without being told.
Rae leaned forward a little. "what choice we have?" she said.
Garrad kept his eyes on the trees. "Turn back, we lose the day and the gate's behind us."
"And if we go on?"
"Then we go on like we belong. And we find out whose road this is."
Rae looked up at me once, fast, like she wanted an answer from my face.
I dipped my head. Warning.
She swallowed, then made the call. "Slow," she said. "Wullin, ahead but not far. Tyce, tighter behind. Gerrin, keep the mule walking. No gallop unless I say. Arry, stay by the wheel. If I say down, you get down."
Arry nodded once.
Rae lifted the reins just enough to set pace, not panic it.
We rolled forward. I stayed low enough to see movement in the hedges and high enough to spot smoke and men before they were on us.
---------------
Dusk hit as the Twins came into view. Two blocky towers on either bank, bridge between them, gates shut until you got close enough to see the men moving. Torches in the slits. River underneath, brown and fast.
We joined the line.
Carts, a few riders, some footmen. Nobody joked. People kept their eyes forward and their hands where they could reach them.
Frey spears walked the queue like they had all night and you didn't.
One guard peeled off and came to our cart. He leaned in more than he had to, close enough that Rae's hood didn't hide much. His eyes went straight to her mouth.
"Toll's doubled after dark," he said, like he was bored. "Pretty faces pay thrice."
Rae didn't flinch. "We'll pay the posted toll," she said. "And pass."
He smiled without showing teeth. He looked past her on purpose slow taking in Arry's grey cloak, then Garrad's face, then back to Rae.
"Posted toll is what I say."
Garrad didn't move. Didn't raise his voice either. "If you're Lord Frey's man, set a number you can defend." He laid a small purse on the cart rim, not tossing it, just placing it there like it was business. "Cart. Pony. Three riders. Count it and wave us on. Or fetch someone who can count."
The guard's smile slipped for a second. He took the purse and walked it to the booth.
An older man came out scar on his cheek, hair going thin under his cap. He didn't lean. He didn't try anything clever. He named a number that hurt but wasn't pure robbery, weighed the coin in his hand, then nodded once.
"Go on."
We rolled.
As the cart moved, the first guard muttered, low, meant for Rae. "Lord Frey likes pretty guests."
Rae stared at the mule's ears like she hadn't heard. Her hands stayed steady on the reins. That was the point, don't give them a reaction to keep.
We passed under the stone. Arrow slits above. Drain holes. The kind of place built for people screaming and nobody hearing it.
I didn't go near their lights.
I stayed high, above tower height, out where torch-glare doesn't reach and men don't bother looking. No dipping across lantern light. No easy silhouette.
From up there, I watched what mattered anyway.
Garrad rode up alongside the cart. "Camp off the road," he said.
Rae nodded once. No argument now. "We pay where we must," she said. It sounded like she was saying it to herself more than anyone else. Then, quieter, to the air above her like she expected me to hear it: "Stay close."
I kept my circle tight.
And the guard who couldn't keep his mouth shut, yeah. I didn't do anything stupid.
But I didn't forget his face either.
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