TitoVillar
patreon
GOT Chapter 92: Shadows of Raventree Hall
🕑 Added 2025-08-25 06:40:37 +0000 UTCInstinctively, Jon reached out and took the hammer that was handed to him. Yet the instant his fingers closed around it, Kal suddenly let go
Instinctively, Jon reached out and took the hammer that was handed to him.
Yet the instant his fingers closed around it, Kal suddenly let go.
The next moment, that unexpected weight yanked Jon Snow’s hand down with a violent pull the very instant he received the warhammer.
With a loud crash, the hammer slammed against the stone floor, sending out a piercing clang that echoed through the chamber. Jon himself, utterly unprepared, was dragged forward in a stumble.
The jarring clash of steel against stone reverberated across the hall.
Caught under the stares of everyone present, Jon hurriedly steadied himself, but could not stop the sudden flush of red that spread across his face.
And yet, things grew worse. A girl’s crisp laughter rang out, making Jon—already drowning in embarrassment—wish there were a crack in the ground deep enough for him to crawl into.
Fortunately, a large hand quickly reached out, clamping over the girl’s mouth and stifling her ill-timed giggle.
That small mercy at least salvaged a shred of Jon’s wounded pride.
Watching Jon’s shamefaced expression, Kal clapped his shoulder with wicked amusement and gave his arm a squeeze.
“Train harder, lad—just keep at it, mate.”
At that moment, the boy who had just covered his sister’s laughter—sitting on a bench, looking about Jon’s age—scrambled to his feet the moment Kal drew near.
“Brave knight, I thank you and your men for saving us… Might I be fortunate enough to know your name?”
His voice trembled slightly, his eyes flickering nervously away, yet he forced himself to summon the courage to greet and bow.
Hoster Blackwood, third son of Lord Tytos Blackwood, had immediately realized from the others’ reactions that Kal was the commander of this host.
In a flurry of nervous respect, he rushed forward, offered his thanks, and then, without delay, asked Kal’s name.
As a noble, he could not afford to be discourteous toward the man who had saved him and his family.
“My name is Kal Stone, sworn knight and bodyguard to King Robert Baratheon, and captain of the vanguard.”
“You are Lord Blackwood’s children, then?”
Kal studied the tall, gangly youth before him—about Jon’s age, yet standing a full 2.1 meters in height. His messy, curly hair only made him look more clumsy, this so-called ‘child.’
Gods, the boy was taller than he was when standing.
Pity he was nothing but a reed, all skin and bones, without the build of someone who could so much as lift a sword.
Noticing Kal’s towering and powerful frame, Hoster answered quickly, a hint of awe in his eyes: “Yes, honorable Ser Kal Stone, it is a pleasure to meet you!”
“My name is Hoster Blackwood, third son of my father, Lord Tytos Blackwood. At present, I serve as acting castellan of Raventree Hall.”
“And these are my younger brother and sister. I offer you and your men my apologies for their rudeness.”
Hoster spoke with respectful formality, as though it were his first time faced with such a situation.
He gestured toward the younger brother and sister standing behind him, both of whom were also staring at Kal, and offered an apology on their behalf for their earlier discourtesy.
Kal, seeing Hoster’s polite manner, merely waved it off with indifference. After all, he had deliberately set Jon up just moments ago.
This boy, as his squire, held a place in the company unlike the rest—but that was no excuse for him to sneak off and laze about while others were working.
Kal knew it was simply Jon’s nature: the solitary temperament forged over years of being raised as a bastard. Jon often overlooked such details.
That was why a jest, played in moderation, could help the not-yet-grown youth blend more easily into this band of men.
Eddard Stark had raised Jon well. He had instilled in him, subtly and constantly, the lessons of how to be a worthy leader. But he had not taught him much of the ways of the world.
And when Kal smiled in return at the children’s wide-eyed curiosity, he forgot just how daunting his own image was. They instantly shrank back in fright, scurrying behind their elder brother.
This left Hoster Blackwood glancing at Kal with some embarrassment.
“Please forgive our rudeness, Ser Kal Stone.”
For the time being, while his father and elder brothers were away, Hoster was doing his best to uphold his station as acting castellan of Raventree Hall. He measured his words carefully, straining to maintain his dignity.
“Think nothing of it—they’re quite endearing,” Kal said with a smile, easing Hoster’s discomfort.
And since there was no point in dragging out these courtesies, Kal cut through the noble formalities and spoke plainly: “Lord Hoster Blackwood—”
“Ser Kal, you may simply call me Hoster,” the boy interrupted quickly, bowing slightly, his face bright with a friendly smile. He had noticed Kal’s hesitation over what title to use.
At the boy’s attentiveness, Kal only shook his head.
“Then let us sit and talk. But before that, Hoster, I’ll need to trouble you to send word to those smallfolk gathered outside the castle.”
“I’d like you to gather them into Raventree Hall to help clear the battlefield. After all, quite a few died last night, and my men are weary after the fighting.”
Kal shifted the subject to ease Hoster’s pressure, and deliberately moved to sit down at a long table.
At his words, Hoster instinctively glanced back toward a maester and a slightly plump middle-aged man standing behind him.
“My Lord, Steward Frank and I will see to it. Please remain here and attend to Ser Kal, and give him the information he seeks,” said the maester in his roughspun robe. He had noticed his lord’s glance and spoke before Hoster could even issue the order.
“My thanks, Maester Zemo, and to you as well, Steward Frank…” Hoster’s face showed a hint of embarrassment.
Noticing the exchange, Kal’s eyes flicked toward Jon.
“Jon, go with them. And take Hall along to help.”
Relieved the instant he heard Kal’s command, Jon nodded eagerly and hurried out of the chamber with the two men.
Only then did Hoster truly relax and take a seat opposite Kal. And from behind him emerged the four younger ones who had been hiding until now.
“Have your brothers and sisters go rest as well. And I think you could all use some hot food—something hearty enough to lift the spirits.”
Hoster’s face lit up in surprise.
“Thank you for your kindness, Ser Kal. I’ll instruct the cooks to prepare meals for you and your men at once.”
“Once again, I’m grateful for your aid!”
Kal found himself wearied by the endless courtesies of noblemen. Now he understood why Robert so despised such matters.
Even over something so small, Hoster Blackwood seemed afraid of offending him or of failing in proper etiquette. And clearly, this was his first attempt at handling such affairs—the rigid, by-the-book manner was almost exhausting.
Once the Blackwood family was settled, their cooperation secured for the tasks ahead, the business finally reached the point Kal cared about.
“All right then, Hoster. I think now you can tell me what I want to know.”
...
Stepping out of the stone chamber, Kal rubbed his brow with a slight headache, then turned and climbed the tower to gaze out over the Blackwood Vale before him.
As for the source of his vexation, it was not for anything else.
Part of it came from what Hoster Blackwood had just said about his father and the state of the Vale.
But another part lay in the fact that he deeply felt he had not yet adapted to how one ought to deal with nobles.
Of course, rough men like Eddard Stark and King Robert Baratheon didn’t count.
In the end, he himself was already part of the noble class.
Perhaps after this war, Robert might enfeoff him with a piece of land. Then he could choose a fitting name for his new house, design a sigil to represent it, come up with words bold enough to inspire generations to come, and, after marrying a noble lady and producing heirs, watch this family he had built with his own hands gradually flourish upon the land of Westeros.
Or perhaps Robert would have other, unexpected arrangements for him—
No matter what, since he had already come here, and since he possessed enough strength, naturally he ought to scheme for what he could take for himself.
Only the time was not yet ripe—
Shaking off these idle thoughts, Kal patted the ancient stone wall before him, drew a deep breath, and pushed aside everything that did not matter at this moment.
He refocused his attention on the present.
Back in the stone chamber, what Hoster Blackwood had told him was not much. After all, as the third son of Lord Tytos Blackwood, and a lanky bookish youth at that, this lord of Raventree Hall naturally held little expectation for him.
Besides, everyone in the Riverlands knew well enough that this lord’s dearest treasure and favorite child was his only daughter, Bethany Blackwood.
So, most of what Hoster had shared was about the situation in Raventree Hall and its surroundings.
Still, because he was well-read and knowledgeable, once his nerves settled, his views on the present situation were rather interesting—Kal had noticed that as one of his strengths.
Apart from that, Kal had pressed him for more about his father’s situation, as well as news concerning Riverrun.
Hoster could only provide vague details and what little he knew. Beyond that, there was very little more.
As for the Lannisters, he knew absolutely nothing.
After all, when Duke Hoster Tully of Riverrun had summoned his bannermen under the king’s call to war, Lord Tytos Blackwood had been among the first to answer, withdrawing a great portion of Raventree Hall’s garrison.
This was the very reason the castle’s defenses now stood as good as absent.
But Kal knew this was not something that could be blamed on him. Who could have predicted that Edmure Tully would be foolish enough not only to deliver himself straight into the enemy’s hands, but, because of this, allow the very stopper meant to check the Westerlands host to be pulled away?
Which directly left Tywin Lannister’s great host free to surge unopposed across the Riverlands.
The initial setbacks of this war had directly triggered a butterfly effect—step by step, each misstep dragged the Riverlands deeper into collapse.
So, when faced with the sudden onslaught of the Lannisters, and stripped of their armed strength, they were powerless to resist. They lost their own castle, and even their lord became a captive, locked away.
Meanwhile, their once-prosperous lands had become the very foundation that gave these wolves the means to keep fueling their war of pillage across the surrounding territories.
Comments
Tito Heber Villar Chafloque
I actually upload daily chapters of MHD, plus an extra one every other day 😅 As for GOT, I’m just catching it up with the rest of the tiers . Once I’m fully caught up, I’ll try to give priority to the more popular series when it comes to releasing multiple chapters in a row.
Xybora
Really got three chapters in a row meanwhile MHD's only getting one a day 😭
