By the time Euron reached Moat Cailin, four days had already passed.
To arrive as quickly as possible, he had driven his men forward day and night without rest. In the end, his urgency proved worthwhile.
At that moment, reinforcements were still arriving at Winterfell.
Meanwhile, he had already begun persuading his brother to attack the castle.
Moat Cailin, Gate Tower.
Cold, salty winds swept across the marshlands surrounding Moat Cailin. The black longships of the Iron Fleet filled the waterways like a dark forest of masts.
Victarion stood looking over his fleet, silent as an iron reef.
Inside the tower stood another man.
Euron.
And what Euron had brought him was not victory, but defeat.
After a long silence, Victarion finally spoke with cold sarcasm. "So you failed to take Winterfell."
"And came crawling back like a dog kicked in the belly?"
Victarion despised Euron.
Now he showed no restraint in mocking him.
But Euron did not care at all. Instead he grinned, revealing a mad smile. His dark eye gleamed strangely.
"My dear brother, war is full of victories and losses."
"I merely tested the wolf cub's fangs... and left them a memorable gift."
He brushed past his defeat lightly before revealing a far more shocking piece of news.
"And besides, I bring something far more interesting."
"Our dear niece Asha has shown great enthusiasm. She has already taken up residence inside Deepwood Motte."
"What?!"
Victarion shot to his feet. The entire room seemed to shake. "Asha has been captured? How do you know? Are you certain?"
Euron leaned lazily back in his chair, ignoring his brother's anger.
"Quite certain."
"If Glover had not defeated Asha and rushed to Winterfell's aid, I would not have lost so quickly."
"Some of her kin found their way here as well. They are waiting outside. You can question them yourself."
Victarion's face darkened.
Asha was Balon's only adult child and his sole heir. He had no choice but to take the matter seriously.
After a moment of silence, Victarion spoke gravely.
"We must report this to Balon immediately. Let him decide."
Victarion knew his elder brother would want Asha returned no matter the cost. So he favored caution.
"Report to Balon?" Euron laughed softly, as though hearing a ridiculous joke.
"By the time our furious brother sends word from Pyke, Asha's child might already be calling Glover father."
"And do you think the Northmen will sit patiently waiting for negotiations?"
He rose and stepped closer to Victarion.
His voice was persuasive and dangerous.
"Now is our best opportunity."
"Winterfell has just endured a battle. Even though they won, their losses must be heavy and their morale shaken."
"Glover has fought both Asha and me in succession. His forces cannot be large."
"And the Northern reinforcements gathering across the land have no leader. They distrust one another."
Euron spread his arms.
His eye gleamed with strange excitement.
"Meanwhile we possess the strongest Iron Fleet in the world. You command it. And I command the Silence and warriors who do not fear death."
"Together we have more than three thousand seasoned fighters."
"While the wolves are still arguing about who should lead the pack, we strike down the Kingsroad and crush Winterfell completely."
"When that happens, rescuing Asha will be the easiest part."
He looked up at Victarion's towering figure. "My dear brother, this is what ironborn should do."
"We take what we want with sword and fire. Not sit in damp castles waiting for ravens."
Victarion hesitated.
He had always believed more in strength than in diplomacy.
The thought of conquering Winterfell filled him with visions of glory and plunder.
After a long pause, Euron's madness and ambition finally convinced him.
"Very well!" Victarion slammed his fist onto the table. "We will do it your way."
"Gather every man who can fight. Prepare the fleet at once. We will show the North that the kraken's fury has only just begun!"
With Victarion's command, the Ironborn quickly assembled their forces.
Like a massive sea monster, the Iron Fleet began moving toward Winterfell.
Meanwhile, as the Ironborn advanced, a crucial banquet was taking place in the great hall of Winterfell.
Nearly every Northern lord or representative who had arrived was present.
Representatives from House Umber, House Hornwood, House Flint, and many smaller houses filled the hall.
Ramsay sat among them with his usual unreadable smile.
When Maester Luwin judged the moment right, he nodded toward Sansa.
Sansa rose slowly under the gaze of everyone present. She wore a dark gown and carried herself with solemn composure.
Though nervous, her voice remained steady.
"My lords, thank you for answering the call to defend Winterfell and House Stark."
She first expressed gratitude.
Then her tone grew serious.
"The North faces an unprecedented crisis. The Ironborn have been driven back for now, but they still remain in our lands."
"More battles lie ahead. We must stand united if we are to endure."
Her gaze swept across the hall before finally settling on Galon.
"I, Sansa Stark, acting Lady of Winterfell and speaking in the name of Robb Stark, Warden of the North, hereby confirm and declare the following."
"According to Robb's command before he marched south, Lord Galon Glover is granted full authority to command all Northern forces remaining in the North."
"He will serve as supreme commander until Robb and my lord father return."
"All bannermen and soldiers of the North are required to obey his orders. Those who disobey shall be considered traitors to their ancient oath to House Stark."
The moment she finished speaking, murmurs filled the hall.
Most of the lords had already expected this announcement. Even so, hearing it declared openly still caused a stir.
As expected, the representative from House Dustin of Barrowlands spoke first.
"Lady Sansa, Lord Galon is certainly brave and capable. But commanding the entire Northern army is a great responsibility."
"Would it not be wiser to wait until more lords arrive and choose a leader together?"
"After all, House Glover is not the most prominent—"
Galon glanced at the Dustin representative.
He knew the history well.
Lady Barbrey Dustin had long resented House Stark for failing to return her husband's bones after the Tower of Joy.
For years she had only half obeyed Stark commands.
When Robb called his banners, she had sent only a token force.
Furthermore, Ramsay's elder brother Domeric had once served Lady Dustin as her cupbearer for four years.
House Dustin had always maintained close ties with House Bolton.
Galon noticed that before speaking, the Dustin representative had exchanged a glance with Ramsay.
Galon smiled inwardly.
He quietly added House Dustin to his list of future expendable pieces.
But Sansa knew these matters as well as he did. Before the man could finish speaking, she interrupted him.
Her voice rose sharply.
"Choose a leader? Why would we choose one?"
"This is Robb Stark's command. It is the command of House Stark."
"Does House Dustin intend to break its oath and question the authority of House Stark?"
She stared at him coldly before continuing.
"As for Lord Galon's abilities, everyone here should already know them."
"It was he who destroyed Asha Greyjoy's army of seventeen hundred men at Deepwood Motte."
"It was he who led cavalry to break Euron's siege and save Winterfell. It was he who has just reclaimed Cerwyn Castle."
"With such achievements and loyalty, is he not worthy to lead our armies?"
"Or does anyone here believe themselves more capable of leading the North against the Ironborn?"
Her questions struck like hammer blows.
The hall fell silent.
At that moment Galon rose slowly.
He did not look at those who had questioned him. Instead he walked to the center of the hall.
There he drew his sword and looked around the room.
"Once, Lord Greatjon Umber questioned Robb Stark's leadership because of his youth."
"I drew my sword and swore an oath."
"Right here in this hall."
Galon brought the sword down onto the long table with a heavy strike. The blade landed directly before Ramsay, who instinctively shifted away.
Galon did not even glance at him.
"I swore then that any man who disobeyed the command of House Stark would be cut down like this table."
He pressed the blade down harder.
The wood screeched as a deep scar split across its surface.
Everyone in the hall held their breath.
"Since the days of the First Men, House Glover has served House Stark. That loyalty has never changed."
"The will of House Stark is the will of the North."
"And the will of the North is my will."
"I accept this command not for power, but to defend the North until the Starks return."
Galon's expression was cold and resolute as he looked over the hall.
"I have spoken."
"Who agrees? Who objects?"
Silence filled the hall.
Then Clay suddenly stood. "House Cerwyn obeys the command of House Stark. We will follow Lord Galon."
The representative of Bear Island stood next. "House Mormont will follow Lord Galon."
The envoys of Hornwood and Locke also rose and pledged obedience.
Soon the other lords followed one after another. Even the Dustin representative reluctantly agreed under Ramsay's dark gaze.
Seeing the inevitable outcome, Ramsay stood last.
Still smiling that unpleasant smile, he applauded lightly. "A magnificent declaration."
"House Bolton, of course, remains loyal to House Stark."
Yet behind his eyes burned fierce jealousy and hatred.
Galon ignored Ramsay's sarcasm.
In his mind, Ramsay's thousand soldiers were nothing more than expendable cannon fodder.
And cannon fodder could be tolerated.
"To House Stark!"
Galon sheathed his sword and raised a goblet.
"To House Stark!"
The hall erupted as everyone raised their cups.
The tense atmosphere vanished, replaced by celebration.
Through Sansa's proclamation and Galon's own authority, his position as supreme commander had finally been established.
The power of the North now lay firmly in his hands.
And far away, the danger of Euron and Victarion was drawing ever closer.
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