While Galon and his army rested after the battle, Shanks rode day and night carrying news of the great victory at Bullhorn Mountain.
At last, by noon on the second day, he reached Winterfell.
"Victory at Bullhorn Mountain!"
"Victory at Bullhorn Mountain!"
"Lord Galon has slain the commander of the Iron Fleet, Victarion Greyjoy, in the midst of the enemy army!"
"The Ironborn main force has been completely defeated!"
Shanks shouted the news hoarsely as the drawbridge at the main gate was being raised.
For a moment, the entire gate fell silent.
Even the drawbridge, halfway lifted, dropped back down again.
Then an explosion of cheers erupted, so loud it seemed as though it might lift the roof off the castle.
"Quick! Open the gates!"
Alysane Mormont, who was in charge of the castle's defense, immediately ordered the drawbridge raised again when she heard the news.
She personally came to welcome Shanks and his riders inside.
"Lord Galon won?"
"He won," Shanks replied firmly.
Joy flashed through Alysane's fierce eyes. She pulled out her sword and raised it high.
"Did you hear that? We won!"
"The North has won!"
The fear, sorrow, and despair that had weighed on Winterfell for so long erupted into pure celebration.
Soldiers threw their helmets into the air.
Women and children embraced and wept.
Old men knelt on the ground, thanking the old gods.
Laughing loudly, Alysane escorted Shanks into the great hall of Winterfell.
Inside the hall, Maester Luwin and Lord Wyman had already been waiting for some time after receiving the news.
The moment Luwin saw Shanks, he eagerly asked the same question.
"Did we truly win?"
"Yes," Shanks answered, struggling to stay awake after riding for two days and nights without rest.
"We won."
"Victarion was slain personally by Lord Galon. The Ironborn army collapsed, and Lord Galon is now organizing the pursuit."
Lord Wyman tugged thoughtfully at his beard, still unable to believe it.
"Victarion... personally slain by Lord Galon?"
As a lord who commanded his own fleet, he knew well how formidable the Iron Fleet was.
Even if they were weaker fighting on land, Victarion himself was a fearsome warrior.
It seemed almost impossible that he could be killed so easily.
"Quick. Tell me exactly what happened."
Just then, hurried footsteps sounded outside the hall.
Sansa entered quickly, pushing Bran in his wheelchair.
Her face shone with excitement as she asked the same question. "Galon... he won?"
Then her voice trembled slightly.
"He wasn't hurt, was he?"
Facing the future lady of his lord, Shanks did not dare show any disrespect.
He bowed first before replying with a smile.
"Lady Sansa, please rest assured. Lord Galon is protected by the old gods. He was not injured."
At once Sansa let out a long breath of relief. Tears filled her eyes.
Bran, sitting in his chair, also revealed a genuine smile for the first time in a long while.
He leaned toward Sansa and said softly, "See? I told you Galon would do it."
After Sansa calmed herself somewhat, Shanks turned to answer Lord Wyman's earlier question.
He described everything he had witnessed on the battlefield in detail.
When he spoke about the duel between Galon and Victarion in the middle of thousands of warriors, everyone in the hall gasped.
Even Sansa, though she already knew the outcome, covered her mouth in shock.
"And then Lord Galon cut off Victarion's head with a single strike," Shanks finished.
"The Ironborn army collapsed instantly."
"We won the battle completely."
Lord Wyman stared in amazement, patting his round belly before bursting into loud laughter.
"Good!"
"A remarkable Glover!"
"I knew I had not misjudged him."
Maester Luwin's eyes shone with emotion. The enormous burden he had been carrying seemed suddenly much lighter.
"I must write to Robb and Lady Catelyn at once to tell them the news."
But before doing so, he noticed how exhausted Shanks looked.
"You have worked hard," Luwin said kindly. "I will have rooms prepared for you. Wash up and get some proper rest."
Shanks did not refuse.
He bowed once more to Sansa before following a servant out of the hall, dragging his exhausted body behind him.
Inside the hall, Luwin continued discussing future matters with the Stark children.
Outside, the joy of victory spread through Winterfell like a warm current, driving away the long winter of fear.
Yet that joy was not shared by everyone.
Later that same afternoon, another group arrived at Winterfell.
They were escorting Asha Greyjoy under heavy guard from Deepwood Motte.
Her weapons had been taken away, and her hands were bound.
But she still held her head high, carrying the stubborn pride of a daughter of the kraken as she was led into Winterfell.
She had even prepared several sharp words to mock the Northerners.
Especially Galon.
However, the first thing Asha noticed was the strange atmosphere of celebration throughout the castle.
It was completely out of place for a prisoner like her.
Then she heard the excited whispers of soldiers and servants around her.
"They say Lord Galon cut off the Iron Fleet commander's head."
"Three thousand Ironborn. All finished."
"Lord Glover is truly incredible."
"Crow's Eye ran away like a dog."
Each fragment of conversation struck Asha like a cold arrow.
Her face began to pale.
Her steps grew unsteady.
"No... that's impossible. Uncle Victarion could never be killed by Glover."
"Not by him."
She refused to believe it.
Yet when she was brought before Maester Luwin and Sansa, the truth became unavoidable.
Luwin looked at her and spoke calmly, though his words carried undeniable weight.
"Lady Asha Greyjoy, I believe you should know."
"Your uncle, Victarion Greyjoy, has fallen in the Battle of Bullhorn Mountain. The main Ironborn army invading the North has been destroyed."
"Your other uncle, Euron Greyjoy, has fled in defeat."
The words struck her like a hammer, shattering the last defenses in her mind.
"That's a lie... you're lying..."
She muttered weakly, stumbling backward as the color drained from her face.
Sansa looked at her with a mixture of pity and satisfaction.
"Lord Galon killed your uncle Victarion in the middle of the battlefield. Everyone present witnessed it clearly."
The fierce light that had always burned in Asha's eyes vanished instantly.
Only emptiness and despair remained.
"Uncle Victarion... how could he..."
That towering man who seemed invincible had died. The Iron Fleet's army had been destroyed.
In that moment, all her pride, all her plans, all her confidence collapsed.
Asha realized that the last bargaining chip she possessed was gone.
Seeing this, Maester Luwin attempted to persuade her. "Lady Greyjoy, the suffering caused by this war has already been great enough."
"If the fighting continues, the Iron Islands will only shed more meaningless blood."
He paused before continuing.
"Would you consider writing a letter to your father, King Balon? Ask him to end the war and bring you home."
"Believe me. It is the only way to prevent further tragedy."
But Asha's spirit had already broken.
She raised her head and stared blankly at Luwin.
"Write a letter?"
She laughed bitterly.
"Write to tell him that his brother is dead, his fleet destroyed, and his daughter has become a prisoner displayed by his enemies?"
"And ask him to surrender?"
"Never."
She turned her head away stubbornly, refusing to cooperate and sinking deeper into despair.
Maester Luwin sighed, realizing that pressing her further would accomplish nothing.
He gestured to the guards.
"Take her away and keep her under strict watch."
"Give her a few days. Once she has thought things through, she will understand that surrender is the only way to survive."
Then Luwin turned to Sansa and Bran.
"I intend to send word of Galon's victory to Robb and Lady Catelyn. What do you think?"
Sansa and Bran both nodded in agreement.
Satisfied, Luwin returned to the maester's tower to prepare the letter. But before the raven could be sent, another raven arrived from Riverrun.
Its message shattered his relief completely.
The letter contained only a few short lines.
[Lord Eddard Stark had been executed by the false king Joffrey.]
[Robb had been crowned King in the North at Riverrun.]
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