Brienne

"...Ser Dantos held no lands here. Neither did he have kin nor castle in this place. If he and the Stark girl aided the Imp in the murder of our beloved boy king, then it's more like that she and Ser Dantos are waiting for the kinslayer's arrival in some port in the Free Cities, that, or she has headed to the North to be with her Brother."

The maester was clearly annoyed with having to retell the same story to yet another traveler who had sought to search Duskendale for the Lady Sansa, but in his haste he had provided Brienne with something.

"But her brother Robb was slain by the Freys and her younger brothers were killed by the Ironborn's sacking of Winterfell." she commented.

The old maester's face contorted into a judgmental scowl. "Of course they're dead, I speak of the bastard of Eddard Stark and the Lady Ashara Dayne. He's left the Night's Watch and been made Stannis' Warden of the North."

In her travels, she'd heard none of this. The small folk hadn't spoken of Stannis' invasion of the North nor of Eddard Stark's bastard. Would they even have known about it? Would it have mattered to them?

"If you intend on pursuing the Stark girl, you are like to need a ship, it's up to you whether you wish to gallivant across the Free Cities looking for the Northern Lady, or head to the North and try and take her from her brother and Stannis." The maester rose. "Now if you'll excuse me, I hear a raven."

The visit had not provided Brienne with anything solid, but if the Lady Sansa's half brother was raising an army in the North with Stannis it made the bleakness of the Wall considerably more inviting than she had originally thought it. There was no reason for Sansa to make her way to one of the free cities. Her gods were in the North and her so was her family. The only other plausible option was her aunt in the Vale; the Lady of the Vale was acting as regent for her young son. Being nearer there was a certain appeal to the Vale over the distant North. Should Sansa have fled to the Vale it seemed likely that her aunt would have protected her. Yet, this was the same aunt that had spurned the Lady Catelyn's call to join the Young Wolf's rebellion. Would Sansa trust her aunt enough to flee to the Vale when she had remained neutral in her brother's conflict? Perhaps if she were desperate and there were no other alternatives, yes. Unfortunately, with Sansa' half-brother calling forth the Stark bannermen for Stannis' cause, there was a pair of open arms that would almost certainly be more welcoming.

Though Brienne did not wish to admit it, her most assured route to finding the Lady Sansa took her to the Wall and the man who had murdered her king. Could she stand beside the Lady Sansa if she were under the protection of a man who would cavort with dark forces to slay his own kin? She had made vows to both Renly and the Lady Catelyn. What would she do if she reached the North and found Sansa supping with Stannis? Could she protect the girl while killing the man who afforded her the most protection of any would be monarch in the realm? She's almost certainly be cut down is she were to make such a move and it would only place the girl in greater danger. To protect Sansa at the Wall would mean to do nothing about the kinslayer Stannis. Could she do that? She didn't know. If she saw Stannis in this moment she would cleave him in two, but would that be different in the North? Would it be different with Sansa? She would have to find out when the time came.

After bumping into a young man, Brienne made her way to the docks to find passage to the North. Not knowing who to approach about charting a chip, she asked an olive skinned Tyroshi trader who looked to be finishing up a selling off whatever he had been hauling. The foreign trader had been looking down at some papers when he saw Brienne's feet halt before him.

"I'm sorry, ser, but I've sold off everything in the Siren's hold. You'll have to…" Finally looking up from his parchments the man realized his mistake. "I beg your pardon, my lady, but what I said before still stands."

"I'm not interested in what you are selling."

"Oh, but everyone is interested in what Aristide and the South Westrosi Trading Company are selling." He smiled in what Brienne could only imagine was an attempt at sounding both mysterious and seductive. "Even in these trying times, my lady, the lords of Westeros do love their spices, so while we may not be selling as much as we once did, we remain in high demand."

Brienne shook her head and bluntly replied to the merchant.

"I've no interest in spices. I seek passage to the North, perhaps to the Wall."

Aristide eyed her questioningly. "Why would a you wish to go to the Wall?" He shook his head and waved his hands as if to make her stop. "Don't tell me.I'd rather not know. Still, if you are going North I do not believe that you will be able to find anyone here that will take you directly or indirectly to the Wall. There are many here who make their way to Braavos and then to White Harbor, but I am not one of them. You would do better to find a Braavosi ship and discuss this matter with its captain. I on the other hand, must return to my vessel."

With that Aristide left Brienne alone, or as alone as one could be on a crowded and busy merchant dock. She went through five different Braavosi captain's before she finally met one that would talk with her about passage. He was in his fifties if he was a day. One could not tell where the gray curly beard that adorned his face ended and the gray curly locks on his head began.

When Brienne approached him, he looked up and eyed her suspiciously. He couldn't have been less than a foot shorter than her.

"And how might I be able to help a determined sword such as yourself?"

Though his greeting seemed odd, his demeanor gave Brienne hope that she had at last found someone who could help her.

"I am looking for passage north, to White Harbor, of if possible farther. I can provide coin enough for myself and my horse."

The Braavosi merchant smiled and fiddled with his mustache. "I cannot take you to the White Harbor or any port farther north of the city." Brienne's face must have betrayed Brienne's emotions because before she could say anything the merchant raised a finger to halt her and continued. "But I can take you as far as Braavos and put you in contact with a friend who trades in Oldcastle and White Harbor. I plan to leave first thing on the morrow, so you and your horse must be ready to leave. If you want your horse to live, you'll need to purchase you own feed."

Brienne thanked the captain before she went on her way to acquire everything necessary for the tip. While she purchased dried meats for herself and looked for a place to purchase feed for her horse, she realized that someone was following her. It was the boy she had run into earlier. She had caught a glance of him while she talked with a fishmonger about the price of salted herring and how much he recommended for a journey across the Narrow Sea, but it had been in passing and she hadn't thought much of it, but with her second glimpse of her pursuer, and his awkward attempt at concealing himself, she knew she was being followed.

After purchasing a rather pricey barrel of oats and directing him to the ship that it needed to be delivered to, Brienne maneuvered her way through the crowded market to an alleyway. Slipping behind a pile of crates, she waited for her pursuer to arrive. Killing him outright would be bring too many risks and deprive her of the opportunity to question him so she prepared to attempt to take him alive.

When the pursuer finally rounded the corner and made his way down the alleyway to Brienne's hidden position, she sprung forth. Her blade at the skinny cloaked pursuers neck she demanded his name.

"Oh...oh Gods, pupupu...please don't." he whimpered

"Name?" She demanded again.

"Pod...Pod...Podric Pu...Pu...Payne, my lady." He managed to stammer out.

Brienne turned her captive around and pointed her blade at his throat.

"Why are you following me? Who sent you?" Was he some bounty hunter tracking her to get to Sansa? What would she do if he was?

The stammering boy was quick to reveal that he was the Imp's squire and that he had been following her to find Sansa. When she'd tried to get rid of him he'd pleaded with her to allow him to follow her. Though she'd initially refused, the boy's demeanor caused her to relent and accept his company on her journey. The next morning, before the dawn, Brienne and Podrick loaded their horses onto the ship bound for Braavos. The sun was just beginning to rise above the horizon as the Wind Witch left the city behind.

It was less than a day into their journey that Podrick fell ill with sea sickness. The young squire struggled to keep his food down as the vessel heaved upwards and down again with the crashing of the waves. It wasn't just the boy who was having a tough time of it, neither of the horses were particularly fond of the journey. The crew largely paid the two no mind, though the same could not be said about another passenger on the ship. The man was a hedge knight of the Stormlands with a slightly crooked nose, likely having broken it in the past, and a mane of thick unwashed black hair. He'd pestered Brienne and Podrick about their destination and the reasoning, but what seemed to be worse was that he didn't care about the answers. Instead, they seemed to be stepping stones which allowed him to drone on and on about himself and about the Battle of the Blackwater and how gallantly he'd fought.

"I slayed no fewer than thirty men that night. It was an awesome site to behold. There were bodies piled up as high as my waste."

Brienne had heard others speak of the, and none had painted the same portrait of the battle as this Ser Azémar Trant.

"I mean to join a sellsword company and put my skills on the battlefield to work in one of the conflicts between the free cities."

"If you still want to fight, why leave Westeros? The war is still going." A very ill Podrick inquired.

"More money to be made in the east and it's not as if Stannis has a chance. He's up in the North clinging to Eddard Stark's Bastard. Even if they do manage to defeat Lord Bolton, I wouldn't be surprised if the Bastard stabbed Stannis in the back and made himself King of the North. It's likely he could hold it with Winter setting in, but I've no desire to live out the rest of my days in some bastard's frozen fiefdom."

Brienne had never met Sansa's half brother, she had to wonder what kind of man he was. As a bastard there were certain expectations, but she knew that expectations did not necessarily lend themselves to truth and reality. What was more damaging was that he had broken his vows to the Night's Watch to take the mantle of Lord of Winterfell and Stannis' Warden of the North. What did that mean about his character? Had he struggled with his decision? There were so many questions that seemed to be rushing forth and all of them could only be answered by actually meeting this Lord Jon Stark.