Arya rides into Town

The search

"Open up in the name of Lord Flowers." As the mail fist smashed against the door of Elsa's house, Arya folded herself into a tiny space below the thatched roof between two solid wooden beams and the sheaves of long straw making up the roof. She understood why Myra considered it a safe hiding place. While a tight squeeze for a full-grown adult, Arya was still skinny enough fit inside with ease.

She thought of the Hound peering into the compact space before declaring he'd rather fucking die than hide from ex-Lannister soldiers. He would have probably then wait by the front door and bash the heads of anyone who entered.

Pulling some thatch across the opening, and trying to ignore the scratching against her neck and face, Arya calmed her breathing, wanting to listen to the goings-on below.

"Step aside madam, all dwellings are to be searched by order of Lord Flowers."

"What for? What's going on now?" Myra's voice thundered above soldiers' feet as they tramped into the house.

"Guards murdered on duty." The soldier's voice was filled with contempt. "Lord Flowers, as the rightful ruler of these lands, has decreed all dwellings will be searched for the murderers and all food confiscated until they are identified."

"Take our food?" Myra continued her protests. "We've done nothing wrong."

"Then tell us who murdered the guards."

"We know nothing about any guards. Look at us. We're just women of Bitterbridge trying to get by."

It was evident by the crashes and bangs from below the soldiers were turning the place upside down. Arya heard someone clamber up the stairs to the bedroom. His heavy footsteps on the wooden floorboards.

"Then find out who did."

A thud from the room below sounded as though the soldier had turned over the bed Arya and Elsa had slept in. The serving girl hadn't wanted to spend the night alone, fearing soldiers would come and take her. Arya had settled her with tales of the dragons she'd seen flying in the north during the great war. While Elsa had heard of dragons from the soldier's stories in the Inn, she'd not seen them over Bitterbridge.

Myra had told Arya to stay in the house during the morning as it wouldn't be safe on the streets. She'd be able to go out in the afternoon with Elsa; back to the Inn undercover. In the morning when they made their way downstairs, Myra had already heard soldiers were searching the town, and Arya was sent to hide with a bag of food that would see them through the next few days.

"There's nothing up here." The soldier below Arya shouted. She held her breath, not wanting any movement to give her away. It was bad enough thinking about the effect her actions were having in the town, and Arya didn't wish Elsa or her mother any more trouble. The soldier tramped back down the stairs.

"Until the murderers are handed over, there'll be no more rations." A guard barked before the of sound marching boots indicated they were leaving. The door was slammed.

Arya let her breath go. She was shaking. Not with fear but with rage at what they were doing. The kingdoms had been so ravaged by Winter, and the army of the dead, that taking food off ordinary people was such a despicable act. She climbed out of the hiding hole and hurried down to join Elsa and her mother.

"Will they do this to everyone," Arya demanded. She couldn't push away the guilt knowing her actions had caused this outrage.

Myra nodded. "It's the usual way."

"Where do they keep the food they steal?"

"Some goes to the castle while the rest is stored in a building near the river. It used to be owned by the fishermen until the Lord took over."

"Can someone show me?"

Elsa gave her mother a quizzical look. "I'll need to go to work soon."

"You still have to work?" Arya asked. "Won't they have taken all the food."

"The Inn will be one of the few places to eat for those families who haven't hidden some food like us. The prices will be higher, but as all the profits go to the Lord, then he's happy for it to be open. And its where his men spend their time when they aren't being bastards."

While most of the townsfolk had been beaten into submission, Arya could see Myra still had a fighting spirit. Something that could come in useful if Arya was going to help them.

Her remit might have only been to investigate the rumours and send a raven, but Arya knew her actions might have already set wheels in motion that couldn't be stopped. Franklyn Flowers had been a sick bastard when leading some of the Golden Company at Cersei's behest. In the last hours of the war they'd tried to capture him and his band of loyal followers, but they'd scattered like leaves before the wind once it was clear Jon and Danny had deposed Cersei.

At least now they knew where he was. Arya was surprised at his audacity, but then again many troubles needed attention in Westeros, and this was just a small part of the Reach. Had it not been for his following of the hated Lord of Light, the self-proclaimed Lord Flowers might have been left alone for a very long time.

"Could you show me on the way to work?" Arya asked. "Would that arouse suspicion?"

"It's not far from the Inn so it would be okay," Elsa nodded. "I wouldn't go like that, however."

"Have you got a dress I can borrow." Arya contemplated telling Elsa to stay at home while she went out as her again, but as she'd already worked at the Inn, then it shouldn't arouse any suspicion. Besides, Arya wanted to ensure Lisa and her family had managed to escape the town okay, so disguising herself as a serving girl was the best option.

Even if it meant wearing a bloody dress again.