The rider's words settled heavily over the courtyard.
Even the wind seemed to pause among the towers of Ravenhold.
Corvyn leaned slightly over the battlement.
"What do you mean they've begun?"
The rider dismounted slowly, his legs stiff from long hours in the saddle.
"Three nights ago," he said, "Bolton forces crossed the White Knife."
A murmur spread among the guards.
Ser Halric's expression darkened.
"That river sits deep inside Northern lands."
The rider nodded grimly.
"They attacked a Stark patrol near the crossing."
Corvyn's hand tightened on the stone wall.
"How many?"
"None survived," the rider replied.
Silence followed.
Lord Edrick Ravaryn remained still beside his son.
"And Winterfell?" he asked.
The rider looked up at him.
"Winterfell calls its banners."
Those words carried weight far greater than any horn.
Across the courtyard men exchanged tense glances.
Calling the banners meant war.
Real war.
Ser Halric gave a low whistle.
"Well," the knight muttered, "that escalated quickly."
Corvyn turned toward his father.
"What are Stark orders?"
The rider answered before Edrick could speak.
"All Northern lords are to prepare their forces and send word of Bolton movement immediately."
He paused.
"And one more thing."
Edrick's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Speak."
The rider hesitated.
"The message from Winterfell named Ravenhold directly."
Corvyn frowned.
"Why?"
The rider looked up toward them.
"Because Stark scouts confirmed Bolton forces gathering in the Wolfswood."
Halric laughed dryly.
"Scouts a little late to that discovery."
Edrick remained focused.
"And what does Winterfell ask of House Ravaryn?"
The rider's answer came quickly.
"They ask you to hold the Wolfswood."
The courtyard fell silent again.
Corvyn slowly looked toward the dark forest beyond the walls.
The Wolfswood stretched for miles in every direction.
A sea of trees.
And somewhere within it…
Bolton soldiers were already moving.
Halric folded his arms.
"Hold the Wolfswood?" he muttered.
"That's like asking six men to hold the ocean."
Edrick turned toward the gates.
His voice remained calm.
"Then we do not hold it alone."
He looked toward the captain of the guard.
"Send riders to every village within our lands."
The captain nodded.
"And the garrison, my lord?"
Edrick's grey eyes hardened.
"Prepare them."
Corvyn stepped beside his father.
"Because the Boltons will return."
Edrick nodded once.
"Yes."
He looked again toward the vast forest beyond Ravenhold.
"And next time…"
His voice was cold as winter.
"…we will be waiting."