“No, I won’t run.” As Arya spoke Syrio’s wooden sword was cut into two. Taking a deep breath, she stepped up beside her instructor to face Ser Meryn Trant.
“Run girl run.”
“We can beat him,” Arya screamed before leaping forward and twisting her wooden sword around and bringing it against Meryn’s shoulder. The blade bounced off his metal armour. The impact shuddered through her whole arm, and it took all her effort to keep hold of her wooden sword. Using the distraction, Syrio rushed forward driving what was left of his sword towards the underside of Ser Trant’s helmet.
Meryn only just turned his head allowing his helmet to deflect the blow.
Arya swung again. This time going low as she tried to strike the back of the knee as she’d been taught in one lesson.
“Good girl. You are learning.” Syrio shouted as her blow struck home and for a moment Meryn’s leg dipped. But before either Syrio or Arya could react the armoured knight pivoted on his good leg and drove his blade forward into the dance masters belly.
“Noooo.” Arya swung again. Only for Meryn to grab her wooden blade with his left hand. She stepped back, trying to pull it free as Syrio slumped to the floor, but she wasn’t strongest enough. “You monster.” Arya let go of the practise sword as Meryn pushed his blade deeper into Syrio’s body.
“Run girl, Run.”
Arya finally obeyed her former master as the last breath left his body. She backed away before turning to run out of the door.
Her way was blocked.
One of the guards who had been knocked to the floor by Syrio was up, and his bulk covered the exit from the room. Arya tried to duck beside him. A large blade appeared in front of her. She stopped and searched for another way. Dropping to the floor, she attempted to roll between his legs that were apart.
Something grabbed her from behind.
“Not so fast Stark.” Ser Trant had her firm hold of the back of her tunic as he hauled Arya to her feet. She tried to spin round and hit him with her fists, but each blow only bounced off his armour. “You’re coming with me.”
Arya was then lifted off the ground and carried down through corridors of the castle. There were King’s guards marching quickly from place to place. Some were escorted people Rya didn’t recognise while other looked set for a fight. There were the sounds of small skirmishes coming from elsewhere in the castle. The clash of swords and the screams of the dying.
“I demand to see my father. “ Arya spat at the knight.
“You father is a usurper and traitor.” Ser Trant said. “You will remain in your room until the fate of all the Stark’s has been decided.”
Try as Arya might to get away from Ser Trant she was unable to gain any purchase and soon found herself hurled into her room. As soon as the door was closed she rushed over to it, but her attempts to pull it open was thwarted.
It was locked.
Arya ran to the narrow window and leaned forward as far as she could. Far below, in the castle courtyard, she could see bodies lying on the floor. The sound of fighting was dying away
Back to the door, she banged on the wooden slats demanding to be let out. If there was anyone on the other side, they ignored her.
After hammering until her fists hurt Arya eventually gave up and collapsed sobbing onto the bed. She wondered if Sansa had been locked in her room also. And what had happened to her father? The image of Syrio being cut down came unbidden to her mind, and more tears flowed.