Ser Rodrik." Theon reined to a halt. "It grieves me that we must meet as foes." "My own grief is that I must wait a while to hang you." The old knight spat onto the muddy ground. "Theon Turncloak." "I am a Greyjoy of Pyke," Theon reminded him. "The cloak my father swaddled me in bore a kraken, not a direwolf."  "For ten years you have been a ward of Stark."  "Hostage and prisoner, I call it."  "Then perhaps Lord Eddard should have kept you chained to a  dungeon wall. Instead he raised you among his own sons, the sweet oys you have butchered, and to my undying shame I trained you in the arts of war. Would that I had thrust a sword through your belly instead of placing one in your hand.

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