"Nowhere," Alaric said, his voice cracking with nervousness.
"Nowhere is not a place I have ever heard of in the north." Rickard took up the swords his father had given him and handed Alaric his. "This stuff of you coming and going as you please, I will not have it, Alaric. You present yourself in a dangerous situation where you will be alone. In case you do not know, we have enemies and not all of them are fond of a Carm being wherever he pleases.
"Enemies, I don't see enemies anywhere!" Alaric yelled out in the open.
To this, Rickard slapped the back of his head. "Precisely the problem, now place on your sword." Alaric smacked his lips and placed the sword at the side of him, and they rode on to the road, passing people on the way there, Rickard was always the one to offer small amount of milk to the people, some of them took to it, buying the milk with the copper coins they had.
Rickard was always a man of coin. There was a time when the family had jokingly claimed that Rickard would one day become the Master of Coin in King's Landing. To that, Rickard had swayed his hand, denying the accusations.
In the distance came Winterfell, a large keep with tall towers and a wall that dwarfed the town below it—a keep of Mortar, beautified by the white snow that landed at the top of its roofs. The sight of it was always grand; it was like wine once you took a sip, the more you wanted it. It was the beauty of it that kept you wanting more, much like a whore who keeps teasing you with the notion of fucking her without the need of coin.
They rode further until they reached Winter town, men and woman came in droves, wanting milk, food was scarce in winter, children and babes died, but milk offered a good nutrient At the very least that is what the measter of Winterfell had claimed, and Rickard had gone off to make this saying not just a rumor but a fact. The carriage that was behind them was large in size and barrels; there were some fifty barrels to be sold off.
Riding into town, Rickard stood from his chair and began to look around for some sly hands that would try anything, all the while he yelled. "Milk, milk for sale, if you have a babe who is in need of some milk come to the Carms, here we are with sweet and flavorful milk, if you are a mother and your teat has run dry, now is the time to spend that coin that has been held in your blouse." To that, people began to laugh, but nonetheless, they came in droves with their Sacks of leather ready to get some milk.
They had been surrounded now, but it was with smiles. While Rickard sold the milk, his younger brother was collecting the coins, some silver, and some copper. It was a rare thing to get gold. While his older brother was not watching, Alaric had taken some of the copper for himself, a sly smile coming over him, as his brother was selling the act of a merchant, yelling until his throat went raw.
It was three hours later, when the two brothers sat in a stall of their own making, nearby was a tavern. Rickard his hands deep in copper coins, counting how much they had earned. Something irked Rickard as he was counting, but the coin was made, and that was good. Alaric wore a guilty and sorrowful look for a second, and then he stood from where he sat and said. "I have to go take a leak." A nod was all that was given, while his brother placed the coins in the large purse.
Turning the corner, Alaric ran across town, to where the scent of honey and flowers was. The whore house, on this day he had enough coin to finally fuck the whore of his dreams. His boots pressed against the mud, his boots that were black like the hound, now grey and muddied. His cloak, which reached his ankles, had droplets of dirt on it. He turned the corner like a swift and agile deer. Nonetheless he found the whore house and opened the door.
It was warm, the hearth was lit, and something was in the air. A seductive scent assaulted his nostrils. With his muddied boots, he walked to the headmistress, an elderly woman with powder on her face to hide her wrinkles. Her lips filled with red, in the form of a heart. "You know who I am here for." He said. He placed the coin on the counter. "This time I have the coin." His smile spoke of victory.
"I am sorry, but the price for her has changed." Said the mistress. A smile wore on her face, her teeth yellow, she raised her hand from the counter, and in it was a pipe just between her fingers.
"But I thought the price was ten coppers and two silvers?" He asked. His heart beating faster and faster, this time it was not out of excitement.
"It's a funny world we live in, boy; things change all the time." Responded the woman. Alaric swallowed hard, his hands dug deep in his other pockets, and found the lucky coin. One that glinted of Gold. "Would you look at that, a golden dragon, just the right price for my whore." She raised her smoking pipe to her nostrils and inhaled a large amount of the opium. "She is upstairs, in the third room down the hall." With that said, Alaric ran up the stairs.
"Boy be careful with my whore; I don't want her broken." Alaric nodded in a quick fashion and ran upstairs. When he came upon her room, he slowed himself, calming his heart that beat like thunder. Turning the knob. The door opened in a silent moan. And he closed it behind him.
Sibyl was her name. A foreign name for a woman of foreign origins, her skin was that of ebony, her hair like a foam atop her head, she braided it at times, in delicate ways that suited her skin, making her beauty come out even more. When Alaric entered, he was met with the most of beautiful sights. She sat on the bed, her head down, but when she heard his boots enter, she looked at him.
"Sibyl, my love." He called her. Slowly, he came upon her and sat on the bed with her.
"Alaric, my sweet love, is it now, or is it today?"
On the other side of town, Rickard sat alone, selling of the milk, but it had begun to sell. And he could not sell lower than he already had. Looking around in annoyance, his brother, his partner for the day, had gone off to God knows where. He stood from where he sat and climbed the carriage once more to look at the whares that needed to be sold off. It was early in the morning, and there was a long day ahead. But all the milk that needed to be sold off.