His hair is white and his teeth are rotten, but he still has a taste for glory.
"What would my part be in this scheme of yours, boy?"
Dagmer Cleftjaw asked after a long silence, and Theon knew he had won.
"To strike terror into the heart of the foe, as only one of your name could do.
You'll take the great part of our force and march on Torrhen's Square.
Helman Tallhart took his best men south, and Benfred died here with their sons.
His uncle Leobald will remain, with some small garrison.
" If I had been able to question Benfred, I would know just how small. "
Make no secret of your approach.
Sing all the brave songs you like.
I want them to close their gates."
"Is this Torrhen's Square a strong keep?"
"Strong enough. The walls are stone, thirty feet high, with square towers at each corner and a square keep within."
"Stone walls cannot be fired. How are we to take them?
We do not have the numbers to storm even a small castle."
"You will make camp outside their walls and set to building catapults and siege engines."
"That is not the Old Way. Have you forgotten?
Ironmen fight with swords and axes, not by flinging rocks.
There is no glory in starving out a foeman."
"Leobald will not know that.
When he sees you raising siege towers, his old woman's blood will run cold, and he will bleat for help.
Stay your archers, Uncle, and let the raven fly.
The castellan at Winterfell is a brave man, but age has stiffened his wits as well as his limbs.
When he learns that one of his king's bannermen is under attack by the fearsome Dagmer Cleftjaw,
he will summon his strength and ride to Tallhart's aid.
It is his duty. Ser Rodrik is nothing if not dutiful."
"Any force he summons will be larger than mine," Dagmer said,
"and these old knights are more cunning than you think, or they would never have lived to see their first grey hair.
You set us a battle we cannot hope to win, Theon.
This Torrhen's Square will never fall."
Theon smiled. "It's not Torrhen's Square I mean to take."