'I'm nothing to them, eh?' Bethod split a sad smile. 'Is that what it's come to, after all my work, and sweat, and pain? Are you happy, Ninefingers? To see all I've fought for put in the dust?'

'Why shouldn't I be? You've no one but yourself to blame for it. It was you brought us to this. Take my challenge, Bethod, then maybe one of us can have peace!'

The King of the Northmen gaped down, eyes wide. 'No one else to blame? Me? How soon we all forget!' He grabbed the chain round his shoulders and rattled it. 'You think I wanted this? You think I asked for any of it? All I wanted was a strip more land to feed my people, to stop the big clans squeezing me. All I wanted was to win a few victories to be proud of, to pass on something better to my sons than I got from my father.' He leaned forward, his hands clutching at the battlements. 'Who was it always had to push a step further? Who was it would never let me stop? Who was it had to taste blood, and once he'd tasted it got drunk on it, went mad with it, could never get enough?' His finger stabbed down. 'Who else but the Bloody-Nine?'

'That's not how it was,' growled Logen.

Bethod's laughter echoed harsh on the wind. 'Is it not? I wanted to talk with Shama Heartless, but you had to kill him! I tried to strike a deal at Heonan, but you had to climb up and settle your score, and start a dozen more! Peace, you say? I begged you to let me make peace at Uffrith, but you had to fight Threetrees! On my knees I begged you, but you had to have the biggest name in all the North! Then once you'd beaten him, you broke your word to me and let him live, as though there was nothing bigger to think about than your damn pride!'

'That's not how it was,' said Logen.

'There's not a man in the North that doesn't know the truth of it! Peace? Hah! What about Rattleneck, eh? I would have ransomed his son back to him, and we could all have gone home happy, but no! What did you say to me? Easier to stop the Whiteflow than to stop the Bloody-Nine! Then you had to nail his head to my standard for the whole world to see, so the vengeance would never find an end! Every time I tried to stop, you dragged me on, deeper and deeper into the mire! Until there could be no stopping any longer! Until it was kill or be killed! Until I had to put down the whole North! You made me King, Ninefingers. What other choices did you leave me?'

'That's not how it was,' whispered Logen. But he knew it had been.

'Tell yourself that I'm the cause of all your woes if it makes you happy! Tell yourself I'm the merciless one, the murderous one, the bloodthirsty one, but ask yourself who I learned it from. I had the best master! Play at being the good man if you please, the man with no choices, but we both know what you really are. Peace? You'll never have peace, Bloody-Nine. You're made of death!'