Harris led Harwin into the training yard, where two boys were practicing archery under the guidance of a tall youth.
Harwin guessed that they were Bran and Rickon Stark, and that their mentor was their eldest son, Robb Stark.
Behind them stood another young man, about Robb's age, and a girl wearing a helmet with long hair falling over her shoulders. They were probably Jon Snow and Arya Stark.
Standing next to them, with a mocking grin, was another young man with short hair, who kept making taunts at Bran and Rickon.
This was, without a doubt, Lord Eddard's ward, Theon Greyjoy.
"Master Robb, this is the new guard, Harwin the Red. He has already been introduced to the lord and lady. Lord Eddard has appointed him archery tutor to Masters Bran and Rickon," Harris introduced him, walking up to Robb.
Then, turning to Harwin, he explained:
"This is Lord Eddard's eldest son, Robb. These two are Bran and Rickon, your future apprentices. Behind them is Jon Snow and the lord's second daughter, Arya. The eldest, Sansa Stark, must be in her chambers, doing needlework with the septa. And next to him is Lord Eddard's ward, Theon Greyjoy.
"I greet you, young lords, and you, my lady," Harwin bowed slightly.
"There are not five young lords here, but four and one bastard!" Theon's haughty voice rang out as Harwin finished. Jon Snow's face darkened.
Olwen turned involuntarily and frowned at the smug Theon.
"Jon is our brother, and he is our father's son too! Why is he not a young lord?!" Arya shouted indignantly.
"Arya, don't," Jon stopped her quickly. He didn't want a fight, but the main thing was that he saw Eddard and Catelyn appear on the gallery above the courtyard.
Jon knew that Lady Catelyn not only disliked him, but hated him, and he did not want Arya to fall into her disfavor again because of him.
- Hey, big guy! You just showed up and already you're a teacher for Bran and Rickon. We've never heard of you. Maybe you'll show us what you're capable of? - Theon, who hadn't noticed the appearance of the lord and lady, decided to take out his irritation on Harwin.
"Oh, and how does young Lord Theon wish me to show it?" Harwin asked with a hint of mockery.
Theon, sensing the disdain in his tone, flared up:
- Let's fight! Let's see who shoots more accurately!
"As you wish. You are the young lord, you shall begin," Harwin replied with a smile and gestured for Theon to shoot first.
Theon, easily provoked, snatched the bow from Bran's hands, drew the bowstring, and fired at a distant target.
The arrow struck dead center. To his credit, Theon was one of Winterfell's finest archers. Even in his anger, he had performed admirably.
The guards standing around hummed approvingly.
"Now it's your turn, big guy! If it's too far for you, I give you permission to come closer!" Theon said, having already calmed down and replaced his anger with self-satisfaction.
Harwin walked silently towards Rickon.
- Master Rickon, could you lend me your bow and arrow?
"Of course!" the boy replied enthusiastically, handing him the weapon.
Harwin took the bow, turned towards the target and, without aiming, raised it and fired.
It all happened so fast that no one had time to react. Harwin pulled the bowstring easily and, barely glancing at the target, released the arrow. It whistled across the yard and crashed into the target, splitting Theon's arrow in two and pinning its remains to the tree.
There was silence in the training yard. Everyone was stunned.
"Harwin won! He hit Theon's arrow right on target!" Arya cried out in delight.
"Amazing craftsmanship. I've never seen anything like it," Robb couldn't help but praise.
The guards burst into applause in honor of their new comrade.
"Jory, what do you think of his shooting?" asked Eddard Stark, watching the scene from the gallery.
"He is incredibly strong. At least, I have not met a more skilled archer in the North," Jory Cassel answered seriously.
"I agree. Even the most renowned archers of the Seven Kingdoms could hardly repeat this," Eddard nodded.
"Harwin, what about the sword?" Robb asked, burning with impatience.
"Quite tolerable," Harwin answered modestly.
He had sympathy for Robb. A young but talented commander, he could have changed the course of history if not for the betrayal of the Freys and Boltons at the Twins.
Then, instead of the old lion falling at the hands of his own son, the entire House of Lannister would have been destroyed by the northerners, whom they considered savages.
"Want to test your strength?" Robb asked, his eyes blazing.
"I would be honored," Harwin nodded.
They walked out into the middle of the courtyard. Harwin handed his sword to Harris and, like Robb, took up a blunt practice sword.
They separated.
Robb took a fighting stance.
Harwin simply stood there, holding his sword in a loose stance, but there was no flaw in his posture.
Robb, unsure of where to start, decided to attack first, hoping to find a weak spot in the fight.
He lunged, swift and precise, aiming straight for the throat.
Harwin, however, merely stepped aside, and his sword, with a slight, almost imperceptible movement, deflected Robb's blade, simultaneously blocking a possible counterattack.
Robb tried to step back, to regroup, but Harwin was faster.
He stepped forward, his sword sliding along Robb's blade, his wrist twisting imperceptibly, and the sword flew out of the boy's hands.
The next instant, Harwin's sword touched Robb's chest.
The fight was over before it even began.
Robb stared at the sword at his chest in amazement. It was only when Harwin lowered the weapon that he came to his senses.
"I lost," he admitted with annoyance, but without malice.
Robb Stark, the most determined of his generation of Starks, except perhaps his father, accepted defeat with dignity.
But the guardsmen watching the duel were in no hurry to applaud. Their eyes showed a desire to teach the newcomer a lesson. Robb's defeat only angered them.
Harwin, feeling this, was not afraid, but on the contrary, became excited. Since he received his system skills, he had not had the chance to test them in a real case. He wanted to know what he was capable of.
With a slight smile, he looked around at those gathered and said:
- Anyone else want to try? You can all attack together.
It was bold. Guardsmen poured into the courtyard, taking apart their practice swords. Even Jon Snow and Theon joined them.
Soon Harwin was surrounded by more than a dozen men. He showed no sign of worry, merely moving slowly in a circle, sword held at the ready, ready to repel an attack from any direction.
In the gallery, Eddard Stark leaned forward, awaiting the outcome of this unequal fight with undisguised interest.