1st Month A, 233 AC

The armies had marched from Blackpool, and Lord Asher had not gone with them. He had make his excuses, that the men of Flint's Finger would not have made it through the Neck before the action had resolved. What's more, he wanted nothing to do with the power-plays of the Starks. The last Stark had sent his father to the Wall, and he feared what the next Stark would do to him or what Theon would do if he joined a failed coup. Better to keep my head. With Blackpool now clear, he decided it was time to leave in earnest. Whether the old Stark or a new one, he would meet it behind the walls of Flint's Finger and make whatever excuses he could to save face.

As the family moved from beyond the gates of Blackpool, Asher couldn't help but look over his shoulder to see if a raven flew of their departure and would not feel safe until he reached the ships north of the Neck.