Among the guards and vassals entering the camp with Robb Stark was a female knight whom Gendry recognized at once as being from House Mormont. The girl wore a green surcoat over her armor, depicting a bear in a green forest.
Dacey Mormont, the eldest daughter of Countess Maege and heir to Bear Island, was lanky and stood six feet tall (about 1.83 meters). At an age when other girls were still playing with dolls, she was already wielding a Morningstar.
"Robb, isn't your guard a permanent fixture?" Gendry asked.
"Yes, mostly young boys, but there is one girl too." Robb nodded and pointed to Dacey.
Robb rode alongside a different vassal every day, a way to both learn about their houses and bestow honor upon them. The selection of his personal guards was much the same; every guard chosen was an honor bestowed by Robb upon their respective house.
"Vassals' sons, the hostage Theon, and men from the Mountain Clans." Gendry looked at the guards; the vast majority were sons of the North, loyal to House Stark.
As Robb entered the camp, he saw the cheering crabfeeders men. Soldiers only worshiped ever-victorious generals. The adoration brought by victory was different from that of bloodlines or status.
"Father, I cannot read the faces of the Northern nobility, nor the face of power." Robb felt somewhat empty and lost inside. Comparing the Wolf to the stag, the gap was simply too wide—worse than when his father and Robert rebelled together. Others would see him as a scion relying entirely on his father's legacy, while Gendry was like The Conqueror reborn, unstoppable.
The Young Wolf had planned to distinguish himself on the battlefield, but now much of the fighting ahead was over. In terms of strength, military merit, and territory, he was far behind Robert's heir. Even his great-uncle Brynden Blackfish would likely leave him soon; the Riverlands had already chosen their king.
"Are you a relative of Jorah?" Gendry asked Dacey intentionally.
"I am the niece of Lord Jeor Mormont, Commander-in-Chief of the Night's Watch, and the heir and eldest daughter of Maege Mormont, Countess of Bear Island. Ser Jorah... Jorah is my cousin. He is a sinner of the North. When Lord Eddard went to sentence him to death, he fled..." Dacey paused.
"Jorah often misses his relatives on Bear Island as well."
"But he is a criminal and should go to the Wall," Dacey said seriously to Gendry. "Gendry the Heir" was the most handsome and vigorous young warrior Dacey had ever seen. She felt somewhat puzzled, not understanding why such a brilliant person would defend her cousin.
Gendry smiled and did not press further. Jorah's feelings were likely a case of 'the closer to home, the more timid one becomes.' Unless he had a formal royal pardon, he would not want to land in Westeros, let alone face his relatives.
"That's enough, Dacey," Robb stopped his female guard.
Entering the massive tent, the hearth provided a cozy warmth, but Robb found it somewhat unbearable. He sat at another head seat beside Gendry; the seating was unequal and carried deep meaning—allies are not the same as liege and vassal.
Robb already knew that his mother Catelyn and his great-uncle Brynden Tully would arrive later, so for now, he had to brace himself. Northerners were simple and unrefined; most were a bunch of brutes with little guile.
"Is this how you treat your guests?" Great Jon suddenly bellowed, pointing to the spot next to Gendry. "Why can't our Lord Robb sit there? If you make us sit here, I'll march my army home immediately!"
Ser Barristan frowned. "Lord Umber." Northerners were like this; Robb's authority was not absolute.
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