***
Morning came cold and grey.
Castor stood in the rookery at the top of the maester's tower, surrounded by ravens. Dozens of them perched on wooden beams and stone ledges, some preening feathers, others sleeping with heads tucked under wings. The smell hit him immediately—bird shit layered on old straw, musty feathers, the sour scent of meat scraps left too long.
Maester Tybald was below in his chambers, occupied with correspondence. Good. Castor needed privacy for this.
He'd spent the night thinking about what Bethany said. Building a network required more than just controlling one animal at a time. He needed to test whether he could manage multiple creatures, switch between them rapidly, maintain awareness across several minds simultaneously.
Let's see if the theory works.
Castor closed his eyes and reached out, not diving deep into one raven but casting his consciousness wide like a net. Touching multiple bird minds at once, feeling their separate streams of awareness—hunger, territoriality, the constant search for food and mates.
The response was immediate and overwhelming.
Dozens of bird consciousnesses pressed against his awareness simultaneously. Each one a separate current of instinct and sensation. It was like trying to listen to thirty conversations at once while also participating in all of them. The cacophony made his head pound within seconds.
Too much.
Can't maintain this.
Focus down.
Castor pulled back, narrowing his reach. Instead of touching all the ravens, he focused on just one. Pushed into its mind with the now-familiar sensation of sliding through a door.
[RAVEN - FIRST]
The shift happened fast. He was in the bird, seeing through eyes that made the rookery look different—sharper in some ways, flatter in others. Colors muted to greys and blues.
But this time Castor didn't settle in. Didn't let himself get comfortable. He held the connection for only heartbeats, just long enough to send a command.
Fly to the training yard.
Land on the weapons rack.
Wait.
Then he pulled out before the raven's instincts could bleed into his thoughts. Back to his human body, barely a pause, then reaching for the next bird.
[RAVEN - SECOND]
Another quick submersion. Different bird, different perspective. This one was hungry—that gnawing sensation that defined raven existence.
Fly to the kitchens.
Find the window facing east.
Perch there.
Out again. The transition was rough, disorienting, like being yanked between two places. His human body swayed slightly but he kept his footing.
[RAVEN - THIRD]
Fly to the stables. Watch the horses.
[RAVEN - FOURTH]
Fly to the eastern courtyard. Observe the assassins if they're training.
[RAVEN - FIFTH]
Fly to the main gate. Count how many guards are posted.
[RAVEN - SIXTH]
Fly to my chambers. Land on the window ledge.
Castor pulled out of the sixth raven and opened his human eyes, breathing hard. The headache was building—not as severe as last night but present, a pressure behind his temples.
His nose wasn't bleeding though. That was improvement.
He watched as six ravens launched from their perches almost simultaneously, black wings spreading as they flew out the rookery windows toward their assigned destinations. The remaining birds barely reacted, just shuffled aside or continued sleeping.
It works. Quick jumps between animals, rapid commands, then moving to the next one. Doesn't require deep submersion. Just fast, shallow connections.
The discovery was significant.
If he could control multiple animals with brief contact, he could manage dozens. Hundreds potentially, if he practiced enough. Each one a separate set of eyes and ears scattered across the North.
That's the foundation. Not deep warging into one creature, but light touches across many. A surveillance network that sees everything.
Castor descended from the rookery, taking the spiral stairs carefully. The brief warging sessions had left him slightly unsteady, but nothing like the complete exhaustion from last night.
He needed to test other animals. Ravens were useful for aerial reconnaissance, but they had limitations. Couldn't go inside buildings easily, couldn't hear through walls, couldn't operate at night effectively.
Rats could do what ravens couldn't.
***
The castle dungeons smelled like piss and old blood.
Castor walked past empty cells—most prisoners had been executed or sent for training purposes.
The dungeons were quieter now than they'd been under his father's rule. Roose had kept them full, enjoying the sounds of suffering. Castor found that inefficient.
Dead prisoners served no purpose unless they were being used for something practical.
He found what he needed in a maintenance corridor—a narrow passage where rats moved between levels. The walls were stone, old mortar crumbling in places. Perfect rodent habitat.
Castor waited in silence, controlling his breathing. Within minutes a rat appeared from a crack near the floor. Medium-sized, brown fur matted and dirty, whiskers twitching as it searched for food scraps.
Simpler mind than a raven. Should be easier to control.
He reached out and pushed against the rat's consciousness.
There was almost no resistance.
The rat's mind was basic—just hunger, fear, reproduction, territory. No complexity to navigate, no intelligence to fight back. Castor slipped inside like stepping through an open door.
[RAT]
The world transformed completely.
Everything was enormous from down here.
The corridor ceiling stretched impossibly high. Castor's own boots—his human body's boots—were like towers. The rat's perspective made the familiar castle alien and vast.
Smell dominated everything.
Not vision, not sound,
but SMELL.
The world was primarily scent—old blood from the dungeons, urine marking territory, the musty smell of other rats, food somewhere distant. Each scent carried information the rat's brain processed instantly.
Castor tested movement.
The rat's body responded perfectly—four legs moving in rapid coordination, claws scratching stone, tail providing balance. He scurried forward, then back, then side to side. The body was nimble, quick, designed for squeezing through impossible spaces.
This is perfect for infiltration.
He guided the rat along the corridor, getting used to the strange movement.
Not like walking on two legs, and different from a raven's flight. This was low, fast, close to the ground. The rat could climb rough surfaces using claws that gripped tiny irregularities in stone. Could balance on narrow ledges using tail and whiskers to sense space.
Castor found a crack in the wall barely wider than his finger.
In human form it would be impossible to pass. But the rat's body was flexible—skeleton compressing, ribs squeezing together, fur flattening. He pushed through the crack, feeling stone scrape along his sides.
On the other side was the space inside the walls. A hidden world of passages and gaps the builders never intended but which rats had claimed over decades. Castor could smell other rats here—territory markers, nests somewhere nearby, the complex social structure of rodent colonies.
Rats go everywhere. Every castle has them. Through walls, under doors, into private chambers. No one notices them until it's too late.
He pushed deeper, navigating through the wall passages. They were labyrinthine—narrow spaces between stones, gaps for drainage, routes that twisted and branched. But the rat knew these paths instinctively, following scent markers left by generations of rodents.
Castor climbed upward through the walls, testing range and control. The rat's claws gripped mortar gaps, body pulling up vertical surfaces. He emerged several floors higher, squeezing through another crack behind a wall hanging.
Voices on the other side. Servants talking while they worked.
"—said Lord Bolton's been acting strange lately. Hareth mentioned—"
"Don't speak of the lord like that. You want to lose your tongue?"
"I'm just saying what I heard. Standing in the courtyard frozen, eyes rolled back—"
"Hareth talks too much. Keep your head down and do your work. Bolton business isn't our concern."
Good.
They're scared enough to police themselves.
Fear maintains order.
Castor pressed the rat's body against the crack, whiskers sensing air currents. He could hear everything clearly—the servants' breathing, their footsteps, the splash of water as they cleaned. The rat's hearing was sharp, tuned to high frequencies.
This was exactly what he needed. Silent infiltration into any room, any chamber, anywhere people thought they had privacy. A network of rats in every castle's walls, listening to conversations never meant to be heard.
He guided the rat back through the wall passages, testing how far he could push the range. The connection held strong even at distance. The rat's simple mind was easy to maintain—no complex thoughts to interfere, just basic instincts he could override with his will.
After twenty minutes Castor pulled out, returning to his human body in the dungeon corridor. The headache intensified slightly but remained manageable. Nothing like the severity from deep warging into ravens.
Rats are easier.
Simpler minds, less resistance. I could probably control dozens simultaneously if I practiced enough.
But that would come later. For now, he needed to test one more animal type.
***
The kennels were on the castle's ground level, built against the outer wall. Ben Bones' domain.
Castor found him feeding the hounds—two dozen dogs of various sizes, all bred for hunting and war.
They barked and growled at his approach until Ben barked louder, commanding silence. The dogs obeyed immediately, going quiet except for some whining.
"M'lord," Ben said, not looking up from his work. He poured meat scraps into feeding troughs, the dogs waiting with visible discipline until he gave permission. "Wasn't expecting you."
"Need to test something." Castor studied the dogs, looking for the right candidate. "Which one is smartest?"
Ben considered. "Shadow." He gestured at a large black hound with grey around its muzzle. "Seven years old, trained for hunting and tracking. Understands commands better than most. Why?"
"Bring him out. Away from the others."
Ben gave him a long look but complied, leading Shadow out of the kennel to a separate area. The dog followed obediently, tail wagging slowly.
Castor approached the hound carefully.
Shadow watched him with intelligent eyes, head tilted slightly.
Dogs were more complex than rats but simpler than ravens—pack animals, loyal, capable of understanding hierarchies and commands.
He reached out, touching Shadow's head. The dog accepted the contact, leaning into his hand.
Let's see how this works.
Castor pushed into the dog's mind.
[DOG]
The shift was different from both ravens and rats.
Dogs experienced the world through smell even more intensely than rats. Every scent told a story—Ben's familiar presence, the other dogs in the kennels, meat from feeding, humans who'd passed through hours ago.
The dog's nose could detect things Castor's human senses never registered.
But there was also intelligence here that rats lacked.
Shadow understood concepts—commands, pack hierarchy, loyalty.
His mind was structured around serving, around pleasing the pack leader.
Right now that was Ben, but the dog recognized Castor as higher in the hierarchy.
Alpha.
Good.
Loyalty is built into their nature.
Castor tested movement.
Four legs again, but larger and stronger than the rat. The dog's body was powerful—muscles built for running and fighting.
He took a few steps, getting used to the different gait. Then tried running, feeling the joy that came naturally to dogs. The simple pleasure of movement, of using this body built for speed.
Shadow's hearing was sharper than human, tuned to frequencies Castor couldn't normally perceive.
He could hear conversations happening inside the castle, could distinguish individual footsteps, could track sounds with precision.
And the sense of smell.
Gods, the overwhelming information carried by scent. Every person had a unique smell. Every place had markers.
Shadow could track someone who'd passed by hours ago just from ground scent.
Could identify emotions—fear, aggression, arousal—from body chemistry.
This is useful for hunting people. Tracking targets, sensing threats, detecting lies through fear-smell.
Castor pushed Shadow's body through basic commands—sit, stay, heel. The dog obeyed his internal will perfectly, no vocal commands needed. Just pure mental control.
Then he tested something more complex. He directed Shadow to run to the training yard, find Hareth specifically by scent, and return.
The dog's mind accepted the complicated command and processed it.
Castor pulled out before Shadow started running, returning to his human body.
The dog immediately began following the command. Shadow ran from the kennel area toward the training yard, nose working as he searched for Hareth's specific scent among all the other humans.
"What did you do?" Ben asked, watching Shadow disappear.
"Gave him a command. He'll return shortly." Castor rubbed his temples where the headache pulsed. "Dogs are easier than I expected. Their instinct to obey makes them receptive."
"You're doing something unnatural, m'lord."
"Useful and unnatural aren't mutually exclusive." Castor watched the kennels where the other dogs waited. "How many hounds do we have total?"
"Twenty-four currently. Could breed more if needed."
"Do it. I want fifty within a year. Well-trained, obedient, loyal."
And ready to serve as my extensions whenever I need eyes and ears in dog form.
Ben looked uncomfortable but nodded. "Aye, m'lord."
Shadow returned ten minutes later, panting happily. He'd found Hareth in the training yard and returned as commanded.
The dog sat at Castor's feet, tail wagging, pleased with himself for completing the task.
Perfect.
Dogs can follow complex instructions, track targets, and operate independently while still under my control.
"Good boy," Castor said, scratching behind Shadow's ears. The dog leaned into the touch, content.
***
That afternoon Castor sat in his solar, cataloging what he'd learned.
Ravens: Excellent for aerial reconnaissance.
Could cover long distances, see wide areas, operate during daylight. Limitations: couldn't go inside buildings easily, poor night vision, suspicious if they lingered too long in one place. Complex minds required more effort to control but also more intelligent, capable of following detailed commands.
Rats: Perfect for infiltration. Could go anywhere—through walls, under doors, into private chambers. Excellent hearing for eavesdropping. Nearly invisible because people ignored them. Limitations: short-range only, couldn't travel far from nests, operated mainly at night. Simple minds made them easy to control but also limited in what commands they could follow.
Dogs: Best of both worlds. Intelligent enough for complex commands, loyal enough to obey without resistance, strong enough for physical tasks. Excellent tracking ability through scent. Could operate openly without suspicion—everyone had dogs. Limitations: couldn't access everywhere rats could, required more maintenance than wild animals.
Wolves would combine the best aspects of dogs with added intimidation and combat capability. A pack of six wolves could travel far, hunt coordinated attacks, and inspire terror while remaining under his complete control.
The foundation is solid.
Now I need scale.
Castor opened his ledger and began writing—not for anyone else to read, but organizing his thoughts.
Animal Network Development - Phase One:
Ravens: Establish breeding population at Dreadfort.
Goal: 100 ravens within one year. Place ravens in every major Northern holdfast by claiming they're "gifts" of trained messenger birds. Reality: they're my eyes in every castle's rookery.
Rats: Natural population already exists in all castles. No need to introduce them—just identify and control existing colonies. Practice switching between multiple rats rapidly.
Goal: control 20+ rats simultaneously within six moons.
Dogs: Breed current kennels to 50 hounds. Train them for "hunting and guard duty."
Reality: train them to accept my mental commands. Distribute some as "gifts" to allied houses. My controlled dogs in their kennels.
Wolves: Acquire six pups from the Wolfswood. Raise from youth, imprint on me specifically. Train for combat and intimidation. Keep at Dreadfort as "hunting pack."
Reality: most dangerous weapon in the arsenal.
Phase Two (12-18 moons):
Network operational across North.
Daily sweeps—morning ravens for aerial recon, afternoon rats for indoor surveillance, evening dogs for tracking and security.
Practice rapid switching between animals.
Goal: monitor 10+ creatures simultaneously, jumping between them fast enough to maintain near-constant awareness.
Train ability to maintain partial connection while in human form.
Stay present in own body while lightly touching animal minds. Would allow simultaneous awareness—being in a council meeting while also watching through rat in the walls.
Phase Three (18+ moons):
Expand network beyond North.
Place ravens in King's Landing, major cities.
Rats in Red Keep walls.
Dogs in noble kennels.
Add new species: cats for town areas, hawks for longer-range reconnaissance, horses potentially for rapid communication.
Perfect the ability to exist in multiple animals simultaneously.
Ultimate goal: consciousness distributed across dozens of creatures, experiencing multiple perspectives at once.
Castor set down the quill, reviewing what he'd written.
The animal network would be his greatest intelligence advantage.
Lords could guard against human spies—check backgrounds, watch for suspicious behavior, use codes and secret meetings.
But they couldn't guard against animals.
Everyone had rats in their walls, ravens in their rookeries, dogs in their kennels.
And every single one could be his eyes and ears.
By the time anyone realizes what I've built, it'll be far too late. I'll know every secret, every plan, every betrayal before it happens.
And no one will ever suspect the animals watching them.
Castor smiled and locked the ledger away in his desk. The machine was growing. Piece by piece, animal by animal, he was building an intelligence network that would make him untouchable.
The headache from this morning's warging had finally faded. Tomorrow he'd practice again—pushing further, testing limits, building the skills needed to manage his animal army.
But tonight he'd rest. Let his mind recover.
The empire could wait one more day.
***
CHAPTER END