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GOT Chapter 82: Whispers by the Fire
🕑 Added 2025-08-20 21:25:40 +0000 UTCWalder Frey’s banquet did not last very long. By the time everyone had eaten their fill, Robert and Eddard excused themselves, claiming the
Walder Frey’s banquet did not last very long. By the time everyone had eaten their fill, Robert and Eddard excused themselves, claiming the
Walder Frey’s banquet did not last very long. By the time everyone had eaten their fill, Robert and Eddard excused themselves, claiming the
Walder Frey’s banquet did not last very long.
By the time everyone had eaten their fill, Robert and Eddard excused themselves, claiming the march had left them too weary to remain.
The King accepted Walder Frey’s invitation to rest within the halls of the Twins, while Lord Stark, bound by his military duties, returned to his camp.
At this feast, nothing had been settled.
As for the terms offered by old Frey, Lord Eddard gave no answer.
Even though Walder Frey had already promised to wed his youngest and most beautiful daughter to Robb Stark, Eddard still did not give his consent.
Yet old Frey showed no impatience. He even generously declared that Lord Stark could take his time to consider the match carefully.
Since the King was to sleep that night beneath House Frey’s roof, Kal too had no choice but to stay with him.
But before the gathering dispersed, Lord Walder Frey—whose motives were as murky as ever—called him back.
“Ser Kal Stone!” Old Frey beamed at him.
Hearing his name, Kal bowed. “It’s an honor to shelter from the wilderness chill beneath your roof, Lord Frey.”
“But do you know me, my lord?” he asked, eyes narrowing in mild confusion at the old man before him.
At Kal’s words, Frey glanced sideways at Robert.
“Ser Kal, you’re too modest. I doubt there’s a soul in the Seven Kingdoms who hasn’t heard your name by now!”
“Soon enough, singers will compose ballads of your deeds and spread your legend. You’ll be remembered as a knight more storied than even Ser Duncan the Tall!”
The old fox went on with his flattery.
Kal, faced with this sudden and unwarranted kindness, only grew more cautious in his heart. Still, outwardly he mirrored Frey’s genial smile, as though truly honored by such praise.
“My deeds are not worthy of your compliments, Lord Frey.”
“They are, Ser Kal. Trust the eyes of an old man who has lived half a lifetime,” Frey said, staring at him with increasing satisfaction.
He then beckoned to one of his wives to help him rise, preparing to withdraw.
But as he shuffled past Kal, the lecherous old man leaned close, patted him on the chest, and with a look of feigned gravity whispered, “If you like, I’ll allow you to take one of my girls to your bed. I’d be delighted if she bore you a bastard.”
“And if you wish it, I can even give you one of my daughters as your wife. Believe me—she’ll be fairer than the one Robb Stark is meant to have.”
With that, Walder Frey let out a sly chuckle, wearing a knowing grin, and hobbled away on his cane, supported by his wife.
Watching the old fox retreat, Kal held his breath.
The stench clinging to that decrepit man was simply unbearable.
And staring at his receding back, Kal still could not fathom why the old fox had said all this to him.
Could it be that this old man was trying to invest in him?
Kal couldn’t help but wonder, and at the thought, his fingers unconsciously rubbed together.
While he brooded on this in silence, Robert came striding up.
He clapped Kal on the shoulder and, with a look of mock gravity, said, “Tonight you needn’t stand guard for me. Since this weasel is being so generous, I think you should enjoy yourself a bit too.”
At those words, Kal’s heart gave a sudden jolt.
Even as his wariness grew, he betrayed nothing on his face.
Instead, he looked up at Robert as if he hadn’t understood Walder Frey’s intent and said, “It seems Lord Frey’s family has a fondness for forging ties with other houses—especially the great ones. I’ve even heard that the Lannisters once married into them?”
Robert blinked, then seemed to recall something.
“You mean Tywin Lannister’s sister—Genna Lannister! Her husband is Lord Walder Frey’s son, Ser Emmon Frey. Strange… why didn’t we see him tonight?”
At that, Robert’s brow furrowed.
“Your Grace, should we return to camp?” Kal murmured in his ear as he rose to his side.
At the reminder, Robert’s frown broke into a wide grin.
He even laughed heartily, slapping Kal on the shoulder, his eyes brimming with approval.
“You think Walder Frey would dare plot against me? Eddard’s host is camped right outside his walls—do you really think he has the guts?”
Robert chuckled at the concern etched on Kal’s face.
“….” Kal said nothing, meeting his gaze with stubborn resolve.
Seeing that defiant look, Robert’s foul mood from being toyed with by old Frey evaporated in an instant.
He reached out, grasping Kal’s thick arm with a touch almost fond.
“Boy, don’t forget—we ate his bread and salt upon entering! So long as I’ve not stepped beyond his gates nor accepted his gifts, he cannot break guest right!”
“And remember this—I am the King. The King! Not some craven mouse!”
With that, Robert let out another booming laugh and turned on his heel, striding away in long, bold steps.
As he walked away, Robert waved a hand back at Kal. “Have yourself a fine night, boy! We’ve still got plenty of work ahead of us!”
Seeing Robert ignore his warning, Kal could do nothing.
After all, Walder Frey was, by all custom and rule, treating them as honored guests. Kal couldn’t simply kill the old man over something so small.
And killing him would be easy—Kal wouldn’t even need to lift a hand.
For an old man of ninety, still rutting in women’s bellies, Kal figured that if he tossed a single Withered Thorn from a distance while the man was at his sport, that would be enough to finish him.
But what good would that do?
Walder Frey’s death would be simple enough—but what then?
Would his countless sons start tearing each other apart in a succession war within the Twins?
Without a stable rear line and strong logistical support, a war with the Lannisters would become nothing but courting disaster.
So Kal only waved for Kossi, Hall, and even Jon to come closer.
“Jon, you’ll return to the northern host’s camp and take Biden and Hoover with you. Listen—what I want is for the three of you to keep constant watch on the movements inside the Twins.”
“As for you, Kossi, and you, Hall—”
After giving Jon his orders, Kal reached beneath his tunic and pulled out a stick of wood and two blocks wrapped in oiled paper.
“These are two specially made lumps of lard, and this piece of wood is no ordinary timber. Put them together and the smallest spark will set them ablaze, burning with an enormous fire.”
“Remember—your task is to take the rest of the lads and guard the King’s chambers. The instant House Frey shows the slightest sign of treachery, you light these things at once!”
“When Jon sees the flames from the riverbank, he is to immediately inform Lord Eddard Stark!”
“Do you understand me, lads?!”
Kal spoke with precision, explaining carefully the use of the tools he had given them.
Kossi and Hall, both sharp, grasped his meaning at once.
“Understood, boss!” they said in unison, deftly taking the items from his hands.
And Jon, no fool himself, realized well enough what Kal feared.
But he didn’t quite understand what Kal himself intended to do, so he asked instinctively, “And you, my lord?”
“Me?” Kal gave a faint smile. “Since the fog of war hangs heavy, someone needs to plant an eye and light the map.”
“So I’m going to catch a few tongues.”
...
After passing through Neck, the climate of the Riverlands felt almost gentle and pleasant compared to the North.
A soft breeze drifted by. Staring into the night ahead, Kal thought it would be foolish to wander aimlessly elsewhere. Instead, he should take advantage of the darkness and follow the Green Fork south.
That way, the chances of catching a scout would be much greater.
He hadn’t taken a horse, nor had he told anyone—save Jon and a few others—that he had slipped out of the Twins.
Once he quietly left the castle, Kal followed the riverbank downstream.
Along the way, apart from the occasional farming villages scattered along the river, he saw no other castles.
And then—just as Kal was no longer sure how far he had gone in the night—his eyes caught sight of a fire blazing bright on a stretch of riverbank.
Cautiously, he crept closer. As expected, it was a small group of Lannister soldiers, no more than five, camped out for the night.
“These must be the Western scouts old Frey was talking about, right?”
Hidden up in a tree along the bank, Kal watched them from above with careful eyes.
He didn’t rush out to seize them at once. Instead, he remained concealed, quietly observing and straining his ears to catch their words as the wind carried them.
Only after the group had eaten and drunk their fill and finally collapsed into deep slumber inside their leather sleeping bags did a faint green glow appear at Kal’s fingertips.
