"Cotter's focus has been to the south for some time now, my lord. Protecting the waters from pirates and raiders from both sides of the narrow sea.
For him to go north is not unheard of, but it would require good reason when our ports are so busy with southern ships laden with food, men, and dragonglass. And to make for Hardhome, of all places." Bowen shook his head.
...
His emphasis on the name was hardly unjustified. Hardhome had gone halfway to civilisation - the only settlement north of the Wall truly worthy of the word - till calamity had struck some six-hundred years ago. The tale was always murky, and changed with every retelling. It's people had either been sold into slavery across the narrow sea or slaughtered for meat by other wildlings or - more worryingly - killed to fill the ranks of the army of the dead. Only devastation tied each version of the story together.
That, and the fire. Whoever or whatever had wrecked the place had decided to leave nothing behind. The ensuing blaze had been so bright that it was said to have looked like a second sun had risen over the horizon from the north to the men patrolling the Wall. Ashes had fallen with the snows for months afterwards - some said as long as a year. Traders reported only a hollowed-out ruin, charred with blackened corpses choking the waterways and entire woods reduced to cinders.
The wild had long reclaimed the place, but it was still considered cursed. Haunted by ghouls and demons of all-too-familiar descriptions, or so it was said.
If the ice cells failed to bear fruit, then perhaps Hardhome might.
Jon licked his lips. "More interesting news came with the live wildlings than with the dead ones. They speak of a woman - a witch. One blessed or perhaps cursed with visions of salvation. Word is she thinks that the wildlings will find salvation where they once found slaughter. Thousands seem to think so too."
The good septon seemed to have regained some of his constitution. "Salvation comes only with the Seven. This witch has led them to ruin."
"And we will lead them away," Jon retorted. "Hardhome sits on a sheltered bay and has a natural harbour deep enough to float the biggest ships. Wood and fish are plenty there. There are caves nearby, Cotter tells me. Caves that might shelter the wildlings long enough from the winds and snow for salvation to arrive. Who knows, septon, you might even have the chance to save some souls?"
Septon Callador bristled, but ultimately kept his peace. Bowen did not seem best pleased, but he at least seemed to defer to Jon's judgement. They both knew that the alternative - that these wildlings would die and join the ranks of the dead - was worse. "At least we can feed them," he finally said, in a gruff tone. "If only barely."
"It gets worse," Jon said. "I didn't just send Cotter north, I plan to send Val as well."
"King Stannis's prize princess?" Sam asked. "Why?"
Jon nodded. "She promises to bring back Tormund, and any he has managed to rally to his cause."
"And you believe her?" Bowen asked, almost incredulous, his tone bordering on outraged.
"I do," Jon said. "She knows better than most that to stay beyond the Wall is to wither and die. Her prospects are better down south with us."
"And if she meets with misadventure?" Bowen pressed. "I can't imagine King Stannis would be best pleased if his prisoner dies."
"If she falls or falters, and if Stannis succeeds in his campaign through the north and returns to the Wall in good enough time, then you might well wind up with a new Lord Commander. Till then, my decision stands. I trust you will all be good enough not to share this information with any of Stannis's people till after Val has departed."
"If she succeeds... That's hundreds, maybe thousands more wildlings," Bowen warned.
"That's thousands less wights," Jon corrected him.
Bowen's face soured. "Some might call it treason. We release a king's hostage to get back wildlings we can barely afford to feed and scarcely afford to house. Rapers, raiders, and savages barely capable of speech."
"Tormund Giantsbane is none of those things," Jon said. "I can vouch for that much."
Bowen met Jon's words with impudent silence.
"And as for housing them," Jon said, turning his gaze on Sam, "I trust the repairs to many of our derelict keeps and forts are proceeding at an appropriate pace."
Sam nodded. "Most of the keep at the Nightfort has been restored. Queen Selyse and her men ought to be moving in soon. And, from what some of the builders tell me, Long Barrow is ready to be manned. Greyguard is coming along, though it'll be years before it's fully repaired. Not ready for a large permanent garrison yet, but perhaps soon. The garrison at Westwatch-by-the-Bridge report the fort is serviceable. If my lord permits, I would expand it. Same for Icemark, Sentinel Stand, Stonedoor, Greenguard, Rimegate, and the Torches. Each keep has only between twenty and thirty men as of now. Enough to keep watch, perhaps, but not enough to defend."
"And the rest are not serviceable?" Jon asked.
"Deep Lake, Sable Hall, Queensgate, and Oakenshield all lie in ruins. They could be garrisoned, but to repair them fully would be a life's work. From what I can tell, among the keeps, the only remaining that might be quickly repaired into a useful state are Hoarfrost Hill and Woodswatch-by-the-Pool. Yet we lack the builders to even start this work, much less complete it in a timely manner."
"My lord," Bowen interjected, worry furrowing his brow, "surely you cannot mean to stuff our ranks with wildlings? To cede more than half our forts to them?"
"Some, or perhaps many, wildlings will join our ranks. This I won't deny. But most those numbers, I expect, will come from the south. King Tommen's gifts to us. Small companies of them, led by veterans of the Watch. Hard men, who can be trusted to keep order among the newcomers."
"Southerners and wildlings will struggle to work together," Bowen warned. "And we might well be lacking in such men, after losing so many to rangings and Mance's assault."
"We'll make do," Jon rebuffed him, though internally he knew Bowen was likely right. "As for builders," Jon said, turning to Sam, "might I suggest using the wildlings? They have hands and can follow orders. And it would certainly be safer than giving them weapons, or else leaving them alone to stir up trouble. The Lord of Bones is my vassal among them. I think he can be trusted to keep those more unruly of his fellows in line."
Sam inclined his head in thought. "I don't know if the builders would be happy with that. It might cost us more time to have them watch over unskilled labourers than to just let the builders work on their own. But I'll be sure to speak them, ask if anyone needs an extra pair of hands."
Jon nodded in understanding. "If that is all, then you have my leave to go."
The trio arose from their seats, and left the way they came without another word. Jon sat in his seat for a long moment, just staring at the door. He waited till the ache in his hand had subsided, then continued with his letters, letting the hours pass. That night Jon slept fitfully, having taken dinner alone. His head pounded. His gut writhed with nervous serpents.
The next morning he awoke early, before the first light. Jon hauled himself from his bed, his stomach rumbling, and donned his furs. Down the steps he went, till he emerged into the darkness. Most of the men would still be asleep at this hour, save the unlucky few charged with watching Castle Black through the night.
Yet the quiet afforded to him at this hour was best not wasted. The sun would soon loom over the horizon, and Val would be forced to wait another day to make her escape.
He mounted his horse and set off on the ride north to the Wall, casting eyes around before he did so.
The Red Woman had a habit for wandering around in the dark and cold, appearing in unexpected places at oft-inconvenient times. He rode hard and made quick time, running his mount at a canter. The daylight had not yet fully begun it's advancement by the time he arrived, just a purple smudge on the horizon.
...
If you want to read ahead of the public release, or just want to support me.
you can join my p atreon :
[email protected]/Nolma