>>6184930“I believe he will, lady…”
“Alyssa NicNivara, of Cuva.”
“‘Cuva?’ I am afraid I am not familiar with the name, lady Alyssa.”
“No, I daresay you wouldn’t be. It is rather far from here. Will you take us to see the lord?”
“Follow me, my lady.”
You quickly explain the exchange to the rest of the group, then fall in line behind him as he clears a path through the narrow streets.
The walls of the castle - Winterfell, the boy called it - loom above you like a cliff as you climb the hill to its gatehouse, the snow-covered spires of the buildings within like jagged mountain peaks. Again, no wards react as you ride through the gates and over the drawbridge.
“The stables are this way, my lady,” Robb says once you’re all through, directing you left across a broad grassy courtyard.
For a moment you’re not sure what he’s talking about, until you notice him staring at your mounts. “Oh! That won’t be necessary.” You don’t bother dismounting as your horse dissolves back into the aether beneath you, and land on your feet with practised grace.
The boy, his guards, and a few other onlookers let out startled gasps as your party’s mounts all disappear in turn. You tilt your head in confusion. “They were merely summons,” you explain.
“You mean- magic?” Robb says, wide-eyed.
“… Yes.” Admittedly, you’ve never been entirely certain what that word refers to; you’ve known mortals call almost everything magic, and with little consistency one moment to the next or one language or people to another, but it is used for spell-casting often enough.
“You’re a maegi,” he says, eyes suddenly sharp.
“I’m a wizard,” you clarify. “Do the Seven Kingdoms not have wizards?”
He shakes his head, still wary. “Not like you, my lady. I have never heard of a hedge wizard making a horse disappear.”
You suppress a groan only with great effort. You’ve found yourself in the plane of ignorant barbarians who don’t even know about first-level spells. Dealing with primitive peoples may be old hat to a seasoned traveller such as yourself, but it’s a ragged and threadbare hat that does nothing to keep the rain off, and these barbarians are clearly more isolated than most. “Are we to wait here?” you ask, returning to the point.
This seems to put Robb back in more familiar shoes, and his former dignified bearing returns. “No, my lady. The Great Keep is this way.”
