The King's entourage initially had one hundred knights, hailing from both House Baratheon and House Lannister.
Adding in the squires for each knight, plus the Queen's handmaidens, the entire caravan numbered over two hundred people.
Along the way, other hedge knights joined the King's procession. Even after reaching the North, people were still traveling from afar just to join the royal train.
Today, Lancelot noticed a group of men wearing black coats arriving from the north to join the caravan.
Their leader was a lean man, roughly forty years old. He wore a black cloak mended with red silk thread.
The reason the King allowed them to join was simply that this man could sing. He had won Robert over with a rendition of "The Dornishman's Wife."
The procession continued. Half a day's journey from Winterfell, they passed Castle Cerwyn.
Lord Cerwyn led his family out of the castle to pay their respects to the King.
Robert nodded to them in acknowledgement but did not stop at Castle Cerwyn, for Winterfell was close at hand.
Ahead, a dozen riders appeared, bearing the grey direwolf banner, and approached the King's party.
"Your Grace, I am Jory Cassel, Captain of Lord Eddard's household guard. Lord Eddard sent me to welcome you."
"Jory! I fought alongside your father back in the day! To think you're Ned's Captain of the Guard now," Robert replied from his great warhorse.
"Lead the way!"
Jory Cassel's father was one of the men who had accompanied Ned Stark to the Tower of Joy, where he died. His body had never been returned.
Lancelot rode the white lion, Hrakkar, alongside the carriages. If he got too close to the horses, they would panic.
However, the mount of the man in the black-and-red cloak didn't seem to fear the beast, actually riding close to Lancelot.
Curious, Lancelot checked his stats.
> Name: Mance Rayder
> Identity: The King-Beyond-the-Wall; Former Ranger of the Night's Watch
> Class: Free Folk, King
> Strength: 15
> Speed: 16
> Intelligence: 30
> Spirit: 50
> Mana: 5
> Talent: Unity. Can gather people of many different races and tribes, uniting them against a common enemy.
He's actually the King-Beyond-the-Wall, Mance Rayder! Should I report him to Robert? Lancelot wondered.
Forget it. Without proof, it's just words. If Robert asks how I know his identity, what would I say?
Lancelot decided to suppress the matter of Mance Rayder for now.
"Ser Lancelot, a man who dares to ride a lion is rare even in the legends of old!" Mance Rayder suddenly struck up a conversation.
"Musician, there aren't many bards like you in the North, are there? Interested in making a name for yourself in the South?" Lancelot asked.
"I..." Mance was momentarily stumped, unsure how to answer. If he went south, what would happen beyond the Wall? Without a central leader, the wildlings would dissolve into scattered sand.
"Ser Lancelot, I am a free man of the ice and snow. I can't stand the boring games of the southerners," Mance replied.
"Is that so? But a musician can't live in the wilds like a savage forever. You must serve some lord eventually, no?" Lancelot pressed.
Mance fell silent again. He knew musicians were rare in the North, and his cover might be raising suspicion in Lancelot's eyes.
However, he remained confident that Lancelot would never guess he was the King-Beyond-the-Wall, the leader of the Free Folk.
"Sir Bard, perhaps you can earn Lady Catelyn's favor once we reach Winterfell. Why not seize the chance to stay there?" Lancelot continued.
"I have other matters to attend to. I won't be staying long in Winterfell!" Mance said.
"You won't go south, and you won't stay in Winterfell. Don't tell me you plan to cross the Narrow Sea?" Lancelot asked.
"Perhaps I have other choices!" The bard looked toward the far north, where vast lands lay beyond the Wall.
Lancelot didn't push him further. If he kept talking, he feared Mance might just run for it.
The King's caravan arrived at Winterfell.
From a distance, Lancelot saw the majestic fortress. It was built with two massive granite walls. The inner wall was said to be eight thousand years old, its first stone laid by Brandon the Builder himself.
King Robert, flanked by two white-cloaked Kingsguard, entered Winterfell first. The others followed close behind.
When Lancelot rode in on the giant white lion, Hrakkar, many people cast curious glances his way.
A lively little girl couldn't help but speak up.
"He's riding a big lion! Who is he?"
"Arya, hush! The King is coming!" A tall, red-haired girl beside her, slightly older, grabbed her hand.
Lancelot looked at them.
Arya and Sansa!
Next to them must be Robb Stark, Bran Stark, and the youngest, Rickon Stark. Behind them are Jon Snow and Theon Greyjoy.
Finally, Lancelot turned his gaze to Eddard Stark and his wife, Catelyn Tully. Lancelot thought of his Prosperity Cat, Kate, and regretted not bringing her along.
King Robert rode up to Eddard Stark. They greeted each other first as liege and subject, then embraced tightly like brothers.
Lancelot could see that Robert was happier with Ned than he ever was with Renly or Stannis!
"Ned, take me to the crypts. I want to see her!" Robert said.
"Surely visiting the dead can wait? She's been dead for over ten years!" Cersei interjected coldly.
"Woman, do not interfere in the King's business!"
King Robert and Eddard Stark left for the crypts regardless.
Cersei, left with her children, exchanged pleasantries with Catelyn Tully.
However, Cersei seemed to think of something and looked over at Lancelot.
"Lancelot, come here. Let the Starks see the young lion of House Lannister!"
Cersei spoke with a proud smile, as if Lancelot were her own son.
Lancelot hopped off Hrakkar's back and walked over to the Stark family.
He first bowed to Catelyn Tully, then took Sansa's hand and kissed it. His noble etiquette was impeccable.
"Your name is Lancelot? You're a knight of House Lannister?" asked a short girl dressed simply.
Lancelot looked at her long face—reminiscent of a horse. It was the classic Stark look, just like Ned Stark.
"That's right, Lady Arya! I am Lancelot Lannister," Lancelot replied, reaching out to ruffle her hair as he spoke.