"My lady," Aldric said carefully, weighing each word like a coin of questionable purity. "It depends on which rights we are discussing. The right to live? To learn? To marry?"
Catelyn Stark did not blink. " The right to rule Winterfell. You know exactly what I mean. Do not play games with me."
Aldric met her gaze. He had never intended to turn Jon Snow into a feudal lord, nor did he believe in the divine right of bloodlines. "Lady Catelyn, I believe Jon has no desire for the Young Wolf's crown."
Catelyn nodded slowly, though her eyes remained cold. "See that you do not plant strange ideas in his head."
She stepped closer, her voice low but hard as iron. "Robb's bannermen do not object to your faith because they believe the Old Gods are rooted deep in the North. But I know that no faith is immovable. South of the Neck, the Seven drove out the Old Gods. In Essos, the Seven are unknown. Gods rise and fall. But the doctrine you preach... equality... is something I cannot accept."
She was a head shorter than him, but in that moment, she loomed like a giant.
"Then tell me plainly, my lady," Aldric said. "What would you have me do?"
"The Sun God shows his power through healing," Catelyn said. "That proves he is real. If you are willing to abandon your talk of 'liberty' and 'equality' and preach only 'benevolence,' I will allow your order to remain in the North and the Riverlands."
Aldric remained silent.
Catelyn sighed. "If you will not abandon those ideas, then you must serve Robb only as a mercenary captain. We need your sword and your healing. You may continue to take coin for your services. But you will not shout your god's name in the camps. And you will not speak of your doctrine to anyone but your own students."
The silence stretched thin.
Finally, Aldric bowed. "I understand, Lady Catelyn. I will obey."
He turned and left. Catelyn watched him go until he disappeared down the corridor, then turned back to the solar to tend to her dying father.
The ride back to the camp was grim. Catelyn's warning echoed in Aldric's mind.
He had hoped to keep his preaching within the Silver Hand, flying under the radar. But the aristocracy was sensitive. They smelled the danger in his words like a wolf smells blood. Equality was poison to a feudal lord.
He knew if he wasn't useful—if his healing wasn't keeping their armies alive—he would have been executed or exiled already.
In his old world, these ideas—Liberty, Equality, Fraternity—had toppled kings. The French Revolution had sent the Bourbons to the guillotine. Napoleon's Code had shattered the old order of Europe. Even if Napoleon died on a lonely island, the window had been opened. You couldn't tell people to go back to the dark once they'd seen the sun.
But Westeros wasn't France. And he wasn't Napoleon. Not yet.
He couldn't fight the entire nobility. Not without an army of his own. The revolution would have to wait.
Build high walls, store grain, he reminded himself. Slow the crown.
He would pause the preaching. Win the war first. Then find a crack in their armor.
But he couldn't stop entirely. Kevin was a zealot. If Aldric told him to stop, the boy might explode. He needed a distraction.
The Light Seed.
Back in his tent, Aldric sat Kevin and Jon down.
"Kevin, Jon," he began, his face serious. "You are my only students in this land. Tell me truly... what do you think of the teachings I have given you?"
"Teacher," Kevin said instantly, his eyes shining. "Is it not the truth given by An'she? As children of the Sun, we must follow it. There is no doubt."
Aldric looked at Jon. The Bastard of Winterfell was quiet, thoughtful.
"And you, Jon?"
Jon hesitated, then looked up. "I believe what you say is true, Teacher. Under the Sun... men should be free."
Aldric nodded. He reached into his chest—or rather, the inventory space over his heart—and pulled out the Light Resonance Crystal.
Golden light flooded the dim tent. The boys gasped.
"In the Whispering Wood," Aldric lied, weaving the new myth, "the Sun God's messenger gave me this. It has the power to grant the Light to others. But to wield it, you must accept the teachings in your heart. I ask you now... are you ready to become Sunwalkers?"
Kevin dropped to one knee. "Teacher, I am ready! I would give my life for this!"
Jon knelt beside him. "I am ready too."
Aldric shook his head. "Not so fast. This crystal is powerful. We don't know what it does to the mind. We test it first. On animals. Rats. Rabbits. Dogs."
"Yes, Teacher!" Kevin moved to leave, eager to start.
"And Kevin," Aldric added. "Stop the sermons."
Kevin froze. "Why? Did I do something wrong?"
"No," Aldric said. "Lady Catelyn has forbidden it. No more preaching in the camps. No more shouting the god's name."
"What?" Kevin's face flushed with anger. "How can she?! You healed her son's army! You saved them!"
Jon frowned. "She thinks it threatens the lords," he guessed.
"Exactly," Aldric said.
"Then let's leave!" Kevin shouted. "With your skill, we can go anywhere! Why stay here and be muzzled?"
Jon looked panicked. He didn't want his teacher to abandon his brother's war.
"Don't be rash," Aldric soothed. "We help them win this war. We get our men home. If people want to listen to the truth privately, we tell them. If not, we wait."
Kevin kicked a stool in frustration. "You think of the big picture, Teacher. But the big picture doesn't care about you."
"Go catch some rats," Aldric sighed. "We have work to do."
Riverrun was a bottleneck.
Tywin Lannister was starving the Riverlands to feed his army. He was burning villages to force a surrender. The result was a flood of refugees crashing against the walls of Riverrun.
A shantytown of mud and misery sprang up around the castle, bordering the Silver Hand's camp.
Aldric watched them with growing dread.
Starvation he could handle. But sanitation...
The refugees were eating rats because there was no food. They were drinking from the river because there were no wells. And they were shitting where they slept.
Disease was coming.
Aldric went to Rickard Karstark. "My lord, the refugees. Sickness is spreading. Will the King in the North act?"
Karstark shrugged. "Edmure's people. Edmure's problem. He's too soft to drive them off, so they rot there."
"I don't mean drive them off," Aldric said. "I mean help them. Food? Latrines? Order?"
Karstark laughed. "We're soldiers, Aldric. Not nursemaids. Go back to your tent."
Aldric went back. Outside his camp, a line of forty peasants waited. They clutched their bellies, their eyes yellowed.
"Forty-six today," Brother John reported grimly. "Seven more than yesterday."
Cholera? Dysentery? It didn't matter. One man couldn't cure a plague.
Aldric went into his tent. Kevin was feeding a rat that glowed with faint, golden health.
"The rats are fine," Kevin said. "Stronger. No madness. Can we try it now?"
"No," Aldric said. "Rats are too simple. We need something with a brain."
He called for Jon.
"Jon," Aldric said. "Remember I asked about Ghost? Are you willing to let him accept the Seed?"