Torrhen's Square.
The air carried a mix of charred wood, damp stone, and the faint scent of blood.
The aftermath of victory still lingered over the castle, which had only recently been reclaimed.
Lambert directed farmers as they hauled stone and timber, repairing broken walls and clearing away debris and bloodstains.
After several days of work, the castle—once ravaged by Euron—gradually began to resemble its former self.
Galon stood atop the highest tower, gazing toward the western hills.
He remained motionless, his thoughts distant, as though his sight had crossed the land and reached the Stony Shore.
"Lord Galon!"
Jon Snow's voice came from behind him, carrying both fatigue and excitement.
"As you ordered, the soldiers of Torrhen's Square have been integrated into our ranks, and the defenses have been reorganized.
As for the oathbreakers you had hanged, their property has been partially distributed to the affected smallfolk."
Galon did not turn. He simply gave a quiet acknowledgment.
His gaze remained fixed on the distant coast.
Jon hesitated, then stepped forward to stand beside him.
"My lord... Lambert does not seem pleased with our actions."
After executing the cowardly nobles, Galon had ordered Jon to take control of their troops and property.
These assets had belonged to Torrhen's Square, and Galon's intervention had naturally displeased Lambert.
However, since Galon had helped him reclaim the castle and eliminate disloyal bannermen, Lambert could not openly object.
"It doesn't matter," Galon said calmly.
"We will not remain at Torrhen's Square for long."
He had anticipated this reaction.
He was not consolidating control now, but preparing for future wars.
Jon nodded.
"The remaining Ironborn are already broken. Our forces are sweeping through the region. The war will end soon."
A smile appeared on his face.
"Then we can finally march south to support Robb."
Galon shook his head slightly. His red eyes were deep, carrying a level of calculation far beyond his years.
He turned to Jon and asked,
"Jon, why do you think we won this war?"
Jon was surprised, but answered without hesitation.
"Because of your strategy and your strength. The Ironborn never stood a chance against you."
Galon laughed lightly.
"Enough flattery. Tell me what you have learned."
Jon realized this was a test and began thinking carefully. "We won because our infantry held the line while our cavalry struck decisively."
"We also used the forests and hills of the North to our advantage.
The Ironborn are skilled at sea, but not on land. They do not understand our terrain, and they rushed forward recklessly.
That is why they were defeated."
Galon nodded in approval.
"Good. You have improved."
Then he looked again toward the Stony Shore.
"This time, the Iron Islands have lost, but they are not crippled.
What if they come back? And next time, they will have learned from this defeat."
He gestured toward the horizon.
"The North has a long coastline. If the Ironborn sail freely and strike where they wish, we will be forced to chase them endlessly."
"Will we hide in our castles forever?"
He spoke with finality.
"We need ships."
Jon froze, confusion written across his face. "You want to take the fight to the sea?"
"That is the ocean."
"Except for House Manderly of White Harbor, who among the North understands the sea?
We are land fighters. Why should we risk ourselves on waters we do not know?"
Galon turned to him, a faint, cold smile forming.
He knew Jon's thinking represented most Northern lords. They feared the sea and clung to tradition.
But Galon understood something they did not.
Sea power was essential.
"Strength?" Galon said quietly. "Before Brandon the Burner, the North had its own fleets."
"Ships are only tools. They can belong to the Ironborn… or to us. What matters is who controls them."
His voice grew stronger, filled with vision.
"Imagine this.
One day, while the Ironborn rest comfortably on their islands. A Northern fleet appears on their horizon.
What do you think they would feel?
We will not remain passive, guarding our shores forever.
We will take the war to them. We will bring fire and destruction to their own homes.
That is how you end it for good."
His words struck Jon like lightning.
For a moment, he could almost see it.
Northern warriors sailing across the sea, striking Pyke itself.
It was a mad idea.
Yet it carried a strange, undeniable appeal.
"Send the orders immediately," Galon commanded. "Dispatch all cavalry. Use local guides who know the coastline."
"I want every beach, every hidden cove, every cave large enough to conceal a boat searched.
Focus on finding Ironborn longships that were abandoned or hidden during their retreat.
Report immediately and post guards on every vessel found."
The orders were carried out swiftly.
After the Battle of Bullhorn Mountain, Galon's authority was absolute. No one questioned him, even when his plans seemed unconventional.
Over the next few days, the search parties returned with good news.
As Galon had predicted, the fleeing Ironborn had left behind many ships.
Some had been dragged ashore and damaged. Some were sunk in shallow waters.
Others had been abandoned among rocky outcrops.
Their conditions varied. Some were nearly intact, while others required repair.
In total, nearly forty longships were discovered.
Upon hearing the report, Galon personally traveled to the Stony Shore to inspect them.
When he saw that more than half were still usable, a smile appeared on his face.
'With these ships... it is time to speak with Asha again.' He gazed out at the gray-blue sea, his thoughts drifting once more.
'Asha is not just Balon's daughter. She is a key... A key that can open the Iron Islands for me.'
'Killing her serves little purpose. But keeping her locked away is a waste.'
'If she can be used...'
A vague yet tempting plan began to take shape in his mind. Using Asha to pressure Balon and the Iron Islands.
'I need more information. I need to test Balon's limits. But the Dragon Horn must be dealt with soon.'
His thoughts quickened. He was already eager to return and speak with Asha.
Still, Galon knew his work was not yet finished.
He returned to Torrhen's Square and waited a few more days.
When the scattered forces regrouped, the month-long war to repel the Ironborn invasion of the North finally came to a temporary end.
"It is time to return."
Galon gave the order.
The army marched back toward Winterfell.
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