Robb's fist collided with Will's jaw with enough force to floor the half blooded fae. Casey fell to the snow covered dirt and looked up as Robb stood over him, fury snarling in his eyes.
"She is alive. She is."
Robb growled, his fists clenched. He loomed over Will wanting to pummel his face in. The only thing saving him was the fact that Robyn was still out there and needed his help. He would not abide the thought, hearing the utterance of the words that she was dead, that she was lost to him. Even if her life had left her body Robb would have descended to hell itself to bring her back. He would no abandon her, in this life or the next. He knew she lived, he could feel it, he could feel her. She was out there somewhere and he was going to find her. Woe to those who think to stand in his way.
"Have you lost faith in her? In Robyn?... Well I haven't. I never will. I know she is alive. I can't explain it but I know it. I will find her and I will bring her back."
Robb growled under his breath one last time as Grey Wind snarled a few steps away. Robb turned and climbed in the saddle before casting Will one last baleful glare.
"Stay. Mourn with the women if you wish. I love her and I'm going to save her."
With that Robb Stark, The Wild Wolf, The Wolf Lord rode off into the cold and the snow looking for Captain Robyn Sheva, the Crimson Lady, his lady.
Jon nodded slowly. He couldn't disagree with anything Roth had said. Jon had spent so long hating Wanhope it was difficult for him to see him as anything other than a butcher, the killer of his family. Roth's question hung in the air and Jon found himself unable to answer it as expected. Were the roles reversed Jon couldn't hand over his father to Khalidor anymore than he could expect Roth to do the same. Yet justice needed to be done. Jon was an orphan now and the man responsible needed to pay for his crimes. How was yet uncertain but Jon would not settle with anything less than a life sentence.
"You make a good point Roth. All good points. My mother..."
Jon paused, the memory of the last time he'd seen her flashed in his mind. She was covered in blood, naked and beaten to a pulp. Jon clenched his eyes shut and chased the image off in an instant before continuing.
"She was against the embargo. A great many Northern Lords were. My father, he felt it he could not trade with a country that engaged in slavery in good conscience. Slavery, the theft of freedom, you'll find no friend to that practice here. Can I ask you, in all honesty, do you agree with it? The shackling of men women and children? Selling them like cattle?"
Jon's eyes searched Roth's, looking for a hint of the man he was or more the man Jon hoped he was.