Chapter Twelve

The Wolf of White Harbor

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William lost Ser Wylis in the waves of outlaws and White Harbor soldiers that entered the battlefield within the Seal Gates.  Blood coated the cobblestone and marble that created the very ground that they stood on.  Bodies covered the ground that was once clear white stones.  William knew that the stones would never be the same again.

William danced around blades that threatened to cut him across his back, chest, and limbs.  He wasn't sure how long it had been since he forced bodies covered in black fabric to fall to the ground critically injured if not dead.   He couldn't see Wendel in the crowd and assumed easily that he was probably hiding in the cellar with the women.   He would not be surprised if he was found soaked with urine either when the battle was over.

He was getting worn out, but he could still feel the buzzing of adrenaline as he drove his sword through an outlaw's back that had pinned a Manderly soldier down.   The outlaw choked and fell to the side as his own blood leaked from his house when it overwhelmed his mouth.  After he took his sword out of the outlaw's back and the body's weight hit the ground with a thud, William stuck his hand out to help the Manderly soldier up.

The Manderly soldier wore the usual armor of a Manderly with the sigil of a merman on its right breast.   His helmet covered his head, but he could still see the black hair covering his head and the fearful brown eyes looking up at him.

"Come on," William motioned with a curl of his fingers.

The Manderly soldier quickly reached out and grabbed William's hand, allowing him to pull him up and straighten out his stance. 

"Thank -" the soldier attempted to speak but was cut off when William swiftly danced around him to drive his sword at a quick angle diagonally to cut the approaching outlaw from hip to shoulder.   The spray of blood coming off the blade was nearly missed by the eye before William drove his sword through the chest of the outlaw from a diagonal angle, killing him instantly.  After the outlaw died on his blade, he grabbed the guard of his sword with his left hand and swiftly pulled it out.  The soldier winced as the body flopped onto the ground, outlaw blood soaking the ground red.

"you." The soldier finished looking up at William with an air of awe that would have embarrassed him if he were not used to the stares of wonder he received from a lot of people in Winterfell after he dueled Brandon.

William looked down at the soldier, feeling a level of confidence he never had before.  "Fight."

He remembered Rickard Stark telling him nearly the same thing.

If you have to fight, win.

William drove his sword through another outlaw before looking at the soldier again. "And don't drop your guard again."

As William fought, he noticed that the soldier stayed close to him, but he never lost his focus.  He kept his sharp eyes centered on the battle ahead of him whether it was a dark-haired outlaw or a blonde one.

The fighting continue and it never seemed like it was going to end.   Blood started to soak his armor and he probably looked like he had many injuries himself from all of it.   Luckily, William only had a scratch here and there instead of all over like many others did.

Suddenly, a horn sounded through the air which made William smile.  

He knew that horn.   He knew that it was Rodrik's.   The sound of the horn could only mean that they were nearby.  The outlaws surrounding William seemed to get even more violent, making William conclude that they had intended on taking out White Harbor before Winterfell could get involved.   Thankfully, White Harbor had the men and the force behind it to drive back outlaws and pirates.

William did not stop fighting.  He continued to drive his sword through bodies and cut through the soldiers around him.

"Pull back!  Get into the castle!" He heard an unfamiliar voice yell across the masses of people.

William fought his way toward the voice, cutting through outlaws left and right, even moving past people that he knew were being cut down.  He needed to find Wylis.   Wylis should have been barking the orders, not whoever this was.

"Wylis!" William yelled looking around and using his sword to cut down the outlaw beside him.

"Lord William!" He heard a yell from toward the castle.

He turned around and felt his face pale at the sight of a bloody Ser Wylis being carried off by two Manderly soldiers.  William felt his stomach drop and his heart plummet into his abdomen.   He looked for a rise of clothing to show his breath, but couldn't see one.  He wouldn't believe Ser Wylis was dead until he never saw his breath again.

William turned around shouting as he began to kill any outlaw that tried to get past him, "Go! Get him to safety!"

His sword bit into the outlaw's skin, painting it red. The blood-soaked outlaw clothes could no longer hold more and the blood drops fell onto the marble cobblestones. He turned his sword in his hand and cut through the outlaw's leg making the man cry out in pain and lower his sword. William quickly punched the man and turned his sword in his hand again before driving his sword through the outlaw's chest. He pushed the man off his blade before turning around with both hands on the guard to block a sword from another man coming to cut William from behind.   He quickly moved his arms around in a circle before moving to the right and shoving his sword forward through the outlaw's body.

Taking a quick minute to catch his breath, he looked around at all the chaos.   The dead bodies of Manderly men, White Harbor soldiers, and outlaws were scattered around the marble grounds of the town that William had begun to see as home and now it was a battleground.  It was a battleground of death.  William could feel the tears well up in his eyes.  This had been his home for nearly 10 ages and now it was filled with death and sorrow.   He hoped that the rains would wash away the blood to prevent it from staining the floor and remind those that lived here of this blood and cruel affair that no one could have seen coming.  It wounded William to think of the children affected by this, but it fueled his fury.   He let out a loud battle cry before rushing into the fighting bodies again with a fury he never expected to feel.  He thought of Wendel crying as he punched a man in the face before cutting him across the stomach.   He thought of a crying Leona.  He thought of a wounded Wylis as he cut a man across the back before kicking him to the ground for him to stab through the chest to end his suffering.  He even thought about the blonde-haired girl who he didn't even know the name of.  He thought of her face painted with fear and pain.   He didn't want her face to be painted that way.  He never wanted to think of her being afraid.

Suddenly, he could see Winterfell men around him.  He could hear their battle cries as they fought.   He almost dropped his blade with relief, but he tightened his grip on his blade.  His sword locked with another's and they snarled at each other.  He could see the yellow teeth of the outlaw and smell his dirty breath.  Suddenly the yellow teeth became more pronounced and the lips that touched those teeth curled on one side.   William kept his grip tight.  What was he smirking at, he wondered.   He suddenly felt a coldness make him shiver when he thought about his unprotected back.

"William!" He heard a voice that he hadn't heard in a while shout.  It held pain and anger like nothing he had ever heard.

Before he could attempt to turn and block the other sword with his forearm that he knew was coming to cut him, he saw a large figure move behind him with dark fabric moving with the breeze.   Over his shoulder, he saw the gray and white fur going from one shoulder to the other from the back.  William nearly sighed with relief before quickly pushing the man he was locking swords with away.   They locked swords a few more times before he quickly danced around him to stab his sword through his back.

"Is that blood yours, son?"

William looked over and grinned at his adopted father, Rickard Stark.

"No," William answered not able to say a mischievous answer as he would with Brandon or Ed.

"Good," Rickard replied before the two began to fight the outlaws around them.

Slowly and surely, the men of White Harbor and Winterfell worked together to push the outlaws forward to the Seal Gates once more.   They had to climb over the bodies of outlaws, covering each other when they were vulnerable against the swords and unable to block swords that would come their way as they crawled.    It was hell if William was ever told it was.   He could not believe that it looked worse near the gate than it did within the gates.  It was terrible.  All the guards that were on the top of the gates commanding the scorpions had been slaughtered and left to lay against the rocks.

The outlaws began to get desperate as they were being pushed back to their ships and began to violently push back their bodies. They even began to use each other as bait or as weapons instead of helping one another. They slaughtered their own as often as they killed Manderly or Winterfell men.  It was terrible and it was depressing.  It was disgusting and it further assisted William in finding the anger to continue fighting when his body wanted to give up.   William barely noticed that his feet began to touch wood instead of stone and that there was no wall for him to turn to.  He pushed as hard as he could despite the yells behind him to pull back.

A tight grip grabbed him by the ankle.  William turned to get away from the hand but wasn't able to kick the grip off of him. He fell forward and hit the dock face down making him groan in pain. His sword clanged as it hit the deck away from him. He struggled to drag himself and the person that held his ankle toward his sword, but he felt himself being dragged backward despite his efforts. Before he could grab the deck, he felt the water licking at his legs and tried to kick furiously to get free.

"William!" He heard Rickard roar as he was fully dragged into the water.  "William!"

He felt the hand release his ankle and begin to hold his shoulders down.  He reached up with his hands furiously to grab a hold of the hands holding him down.   He crawled at the hands digging his nails into the skin.  He attempted to kick with his legs but felt nothing but the weight of the water.    He didn't know if he felt fear but he knew he was angry.  He was furious that some man decided to drag him into the water as a weapon to murder him.  

He couldn't help but think about House Reyne.  

How they choked on the very water that was used as a weapon against them.  He couldn't help but think about how whichever Reyne his father was, his brother died as a result.  He thought about Tywin Lannister who unleashed the water upon them and stood at the top of the mine listening to their screams. He could feel the fury boil his blood while the smirk on Tywin's face and the screams imprinted onto his soul.

He let out a furious scream under the water and pushed his legs underneath him to plant his feet on the stones.  He pushed up against the hands and felt the hands give way. When he broke the surface of the water, he could see the dock and Rickard fighting through the chaos to get to him.

"William!" Rickard screamed, looking straight at him.

William let out an angry yell as he was again pushed into the water. This time though he was face down. He attempted to get on his hands and knees but was pushed down again and again. He could feel his breath leaving his lungs, his body wearing down, and his head becoming heavy. He struggled and pleaded with whatever god there was to give him to strength to get up again.

He began to feel light as if he were floating. His limbs felt light and weightless. His eyes wanted to close as if he was exhausted and his body was giving out. He was tired and he was exhausted. He could feel his body give up. His thoughts started to slow until there was no single thing thriving. He felt peaceful for the first time in all his life like there was nothing to think of. He felt like he could finally rest after all this time. He wanted to rest so badly. His eyes blurred and his breath faded.

Before he could fully fall asleep, the weight of the hands on his head and back lifted off him. Arms wrapped around his body to lift him. He could see the blurred image of white and gold around him before his eyes finally closed.