sicken so quickly. We gave a tourney on my sonâs name day. If you had seen Jon then, you would have sworn he would live forever. A fortnight later he was dead. The sickness was like a fire in his gut. It burned right throughhim.â He paused beside a pillar, before the tomb of a long-dead Stark. âI loved that old man.â
âWe both did.â Ned paused a moment. âCatelyn fears for her sister. How does Lysa bear her grief?â
Robertâs mouth gave a bitter twist. âNot well, in truth,â he admitted. âI think losing Jon has driven the woman mad, Ned. She has taken the boy back to the Eyrie. Against my wishes. I had hoped to foster him with Tywin Lannister at Casterly Rock. Jon had no brothers, no other sons. Was I supposed to leave him to be raised by women?â
Ned would sooner entrust a child to a pit viper than to Lord Tywin, but he left his doubts unspoken. Some old wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word. âThe wife has lost the husband,â he said carefully. âPerhaps the mother feared to lose the son. The boy is very young.â
âSix, and sickly, and Lord of the Eyrie, gods have mercy,â the king swore. âLord Tywin had never taken a ward before. Lysa ought to have been honored. The Lannisters are a great and noble House. She refused to even hear of it. Then she left in the dead of night, without so much as a by-your-leave. Cersei was furious.â He sighed deeply. âThe boy is my namesake, did you know that? Robert Arryn. I am sworn to protect him. How can I do that if his mother steals him away?â
âI will take him as ward, if you wish,â Ned said. âLysa should consent to that. She and Catelyn were close as girls, and she would be welcome here as well.â
âA generous offer, my friend,â the king said, âbut too late. Lord Tywin has already given his consent. Fostering the boy elsewhere would be a grievous affront to him.â
âI have more concern for my nephewâs welfare than I do for Lannister pride,â Ned declared.
âThat is because you do not sleep with a Lannister.â Robert laughed, the sound rattling among the tombs and bouncing from the vaulted ceiling. His smile was a flash of white teeth in the thicket of the huge black beard. âAh, Ned,â he said, âyou are still too serious.â He put a massive arm around Nedâs shoulders. âI had planned to wait a few days to speak to you, but I see now thereâs no need for it. Come, walk with me.â
They started back down between the pillars. Blindstone eyes seemed to follow them as they passed. The king kept his arm around Nedâs shoulder. âYou must have wondered why I finally came north to Winterfell, after so long.â
Ned had his suspicions, but he did not give them voice. âFor the joy of my company, surely,â he said lightly. âAnd there is the Wall. You need to see it, Your Grace, to walk along its battlements and talk to those who man it. The Nightâs Watch is a shadow of what it once was. Benjen saysââ
âNo doubt I will hear what your brother says soon enough,â Robert said. âThe Wall has stood for what, eight thousand years? It can keep a few days more. I have more pressing concerns. These are difficult times. I need good men about me. Men like Jon Arryn. He served as Lord of the Eyrie, as Warden of the East, as the Hand of the King. He will not be easy to replace.â
âHis son â¦â Ned began.
âHis son will succeed to the Eyrie and all its incomes,â Robert said brusquely. âNo more.â
That took Ned by surprise. He stopped, startled, and turned to look at his king. The words came unbidden. âThe Arryns have always been Wardens of the East. The title goes with the domain.â
âPerhaps when he comes of age, the honor can be restored to him,â Robert said. âI have this