Ten years a wolf, and you land here and think to prince about the islands, but you know nothing and no one. Why should men fight and die for you? “  “I am their lawful prince,” Theon said stiffly.   “By the laws of the green lands, you might be. But we make our own laws here, or have you forgotten?”  Scowling, Theon turned to contemplate the leaking trencher before him. He would have stew in his lap before long. He shouted for a thrall to clean it up. Half my life I have waited to come home, and for what? Mockery and disregard? This was not the Pyke he remembered. Or did he remember? He had been so young when they took him away to hold hostage.  The feast was a meager enough thing, a succession of fish stews, black bread, and spiceless goat. The tastiest thing Theon found to eat was an onion pie. Ale and wine continued to flow well after the last of the courses had been cleared away.  Lord Balon Greyjoy rose from the Seastone Chair. “Have done with your drink and come to my solar,” he commanded his companions on the dais. “We have plans to lay.” He left them with no other word, flanked by two of his guards. His brothers followed in short order. Theon rose to go after them.  “My little brother is in a rush to be off.” Asha raised her drinking horn and beckoned for more ale.  “Our lord father is waiting.”  “And has, for many a year. It will do him no harm to wait a little longer... but if you fear his wrath, scurry after him by all means. You ought to have no trouble catching our uncles.” She smiled. “One is drunk on seawater, after all, and the other is a great grey bullock so dim he’ll probably get lost.”  Theon sat back down, annoyed. “I run after no man.”  “No man, but every woman?”  “It was not me who grabbed your cock.”  “I don’t have one, remember? You grabbed every other bit of me quick enough.”  He could feel the flush creeping up his cheeks. “I’m a man with a man’s hungers. What sort of unnatural creature are you?”  “Only a shy maid.” Asha’s hand darted out under the table to give his cock a squeeze. Theon nearly jumped from his chair. “What, don’t you want me to steer you into port, brother?”  “Marriage is not for you,” Theon decided. “When I rule, I believe I will pack you off to the silent sisters.” He lurched to his feet and strode off unsteadily to find his father.  Rain was falling by the time he reached the swaying bridge out to the Sea Tower. His stomach was crashing and churning like the waves below, and wine had unsteadied his feet. Theon gritted his teeth and gripped the rope tightly as he made his way across, pretending that it was Asha’s neck he was clutching.  The solar was as damp and drafty as ever. Buried under his sealskin robes, his father sat before the brazier with his brothers on either side of him. Victarion was talking of tides and winds when Theon entered, but Lord Balon waved him silent. “I have made my plans. It is time you heard them.”  “I have some suggestions-”   “When I require your counsel I shall ask for it,” his father said. “We have had a bird from Old Wyk. Dagmer is bringing the Drumms and Stonehouses. If the god grants us good winds, we will sail when they arrive... or you will. I mean for you to strike the first blow, Theon. You shall take eight longships north-”  “Eight?” His face reddened. “What can I hope to accomplish with only eight ............