Arya rides into Town

Elsa's Home

"So they're all dead." Elsa's mother, Myra, examined Arya with a suspicious eye as she tossed her blood-soaked dress onto the fire. Stood inside the doorway of Elsa's home it was difficult not to feel the intense glare of the robust woman who tilted her head as she looked Arya up and down.

After dragging the bodies into the shadows, Arya returned to the Inn to fetch Elsa who'd been sitting nervously in an outhouse. Having wrapped Arya in a warm hug the blond and not stopped asking questions as she watched her friend strip off the bloodied garments and don her more familiar leggings and tunic.

The two young women made their way through the town to Elsa's small house near the south gate. There was no trouble along the way, and Arya had wrapped the dark cloak around her shoulders in case any of the guards wanted to examine them.

"They won't bother Elsa any more." Arya tried to gauge if Myra was as downtrodden as the rest of the townsfolk. Her initial impression was of a feisty middle-aged woman who didn't take shit from anyone.

Myra smiled and sat her ample frame on a stool next to the fire. "Well not everyone will agree, but it's about time someone stood up to the bastards. Begging your pardon with my language."

Arya acknowledged the older woman, though she hadn't revealed her true heritage to her or anyone in the town. The Stark name was despised by some in the south, despite what her family had done as part as saving Westeros from the army of the dead.

"What will happen when they find the bodies?" Elsa was sitting by the fire with her arms wrapped around her knees. While Arya had led her away from the street where the bodies were, the blond girl had been shocked by the sight of her friend covered in blood.

"It might be a problem." Myra nodded her head as she thought things through. "They were guards, trusted men of the Lord, so he won't let it pass."

"What will that mean?" Arya asked.

"Revenge beatings I expect. They'll be trouble while they try and find out the truth."

"Will they ration us again mama?" Elsa asked.

"More than likely."

"Ration you?" Arya furrowed her brow. The fire was roaring, and she moved to join Elsa who seemed comforted by the heat.

"They take so much our food. We get most of it from hunting in the forest or catching the fish in the river and trade it for grain we get from Old Town. But the Lord takes most of what we have as taxes, and rations the grain. We try and hide what we again in case winter returns." The woman screwed up her eyes and clenched her fists. "But the bastards raid us and take everything they find, punishing those who conceal food. Starving folk will often tell them everything for the price of a few meals a day."

"That's awful." Arya realised things were worse than she'd anticipated. She also cursed herself for acting in such a reckless way by killing the guards. Her activity might make things harder for the people, not better. "Why don't people rise against him."

"Too many soldiers under his banner." Myra had calmed down. She smoothed the creases in her olive dress. "The folk here are simple peasants, women, children, the old and infirm. Fighting age men went to the great war and didn't return. Well, some did. But they're in no fit state to protect us anymore."

Arya knew what the woman meant. But there seemed to be enough ex-soldiers of the Lannister army and from the Golden Company who still wanted to fight. Provided it was picking on the weak. "Why do they work for the Lord?"

"He offers sanctuary for those who fought on what he calls the right side. He offers wine and women in abundance. He also claims the castle and lands are his by right. Or would have been if he hadn't been banished from the family."

"And the magic. The sacrifices." Elsa whispered.

"Don't believe all you hear Elsa dear."

"What magic?" Arya asked.

"Rumours of sacrifices to the Lord of light at night castle grounds. Sacrifices so the human Lord can live forever. There are all sorts of tales of him using blood magic, but never from people who have actually seen anything."

"What about those that go missing?" Elsa persisted. "What happens to them?"

"Rotting in the dungeon for all we know. Or slaves for the Lord and his men. It is said he has a voracious sexual appetite for men and women." Myra shuddered. "Of all ages."

It was the rumour of blood magic that had brought Arya to Bitterbridge. Bran wanted any trace of the followers of the Lord of Light eradicated from Westeros. The sacrificial part of their rituals had no place in the new Kingdoms. Blood magic might have brought her brother to life and aided the downfall of the Night King, but it wouldn't be tolerated any more.

"You should leave this town when the gates open at dawn." Myra continued. "They'll turn the town upside down to find out who killed the guards."

"I won't tell them anything." Elsa hissed. "They were going to rape me."

"I've come to help." Arya rested her hands on her lap. "But I need to know if there are any in the town willing to fight back if they have the chance."

Myra rose from the stool and folded her thick arms in front of her ample bosom.

"You're looking at one of them."