Chapter 11 – King Beyond the Wall 1
The valley fell quiet as the scouts of the wildlings approached. The Night's Watch company had already closed their formation, shields ready, hands on hilts, eyes scanning every corner for an ambush. Snow blew across the open plain, but the sound of boots crunching closer was louder.
At the front of the approaching wildlings was a man Manny recognised from the shows of his past life. He had massive beard, thick hair, and a broad body that looked made for fighting and laughing both.
Tormund Giantsbane.
He walked with confidence, almost with a swagger, as if a dozen armed crows waiting in formation amused him.
When he reached speaking distance, he smirked.
"Well, well. Crows have come walking into the lion's den." He looked them over. "Or should I say into the giant's den? What do you want, black crows?"
Lord Commander Jeor Mormont stepped forward, his voice steady and straight. "We seek an audience with the King Beyond the Wall."
Tormund raised an eyebrow. "Do you, now? And why would crows want that?"
Benjen Stark took a step forward beside the Lord Commander. "This is not a visit for fighting. We are not here to kill or be killed. We came to speak with your king."
The wildlings behind Tormund laughed crudely.
One of them shouted, "Crows talk too much before dying."
Another spat on the snow. "Should kill them now. Save everyone the trouble."
The Night's Watch men did not move. Their formation stayed tight, steady. Not a single sword was drawn.
Benjen spoke clearly. "We are here for a serious matter."
Tormund looked unimpressed. "What serious matter makes the Lord Commander himself walk into a camp of thousands of us? Say it straight."
Benjen's voice lowered. "The same crisis that has forced all your tribes to gather together. The same danger that drove you from your homes."
Tormund's smirk faded slightly.
Benjen finished, "The White Walkers."
For a moment, even the wind stopped.
The word spread through the wildlings like a silent shock. Men who had been laughing moments ago now stared at the rangers with suspicion and fear. Tormund's expression tightened. He looked at his men, then back at the Night's Watch.
"You believe that the Walkers are true?" Tormund asked. "Most south of the Wall don't think so."
Benjen nodded. "We have seen signs. We know they are real and that they are coming."
Tormund exhaled slowly. His tone changed, more serious. "If this is true, and you come with that reason then maybe Mance should hear you."
With that, he gestured for us to follow.
They walked deeper into the camp. As they crossed the valley floor, the Watch men looked around with growing surprise. Everywhere they turned, wildlings moved about. Men sharpening weapons, women tending fires, children running between tents. There were very few older people who sat near hearths, wrapped in furs. There were far more families than fighters.
Then they saw giants.
Huge figures, taller than any man could imagine, moved slowly near the outer tents. Their steps shook the frozen ground.
Several crows whispered in disbelief.
One ranger muttered, "By the gods, they're real."
Another swallowed hard. "Stories, all the stories were true."
Even Jeor Mormont and Benjen stared with shock. Seeing giants confirmed to them that the old tales were true. If giants were real, then the rest of the ancient magic was not far behind.
Tormund led them through a path of tents. They approached the largest tent in the centre of the entire valley. It was made of heavy hides, stitched tightly and held by strong poles. Smoke rose from its top vent.
"This is it," Tormund said. "Wait here."
He pushed aside the hide flap and went inside.
The three stood silently. The wind cut through their cloaks. Manny felt their tension but also their curiosity. The entire valley seemed to watch them.
After a few minutes, Tormund returned.
"The King Beyond the Wall will see you," he said. "But not all of you, only a few. No guards, no tricks." He smirked again. "Don't worry. If we wanted you dead, you'd be dead already."
Lord Commander Mormont nodded. "Only three need to enter. Myself, Benjen Stark, and Manny."
Tormund turned to Manny, looking him over. Manny was dressed differently from the black brothers. Neither the uniform, nor the same armour. Tormund's eyes narrowed a little.
"And this one?" he asked. "He isn't dressed like a crow."
"He travels with us," Jeor Mormont said. "And he speaks for the purpose of this meeting."
Tormund shrugged. "Fine. But weapons stay outside."
The three removed their weapons. Jeor Mormont hesitated before passing Longclaw to Tormund.
"Handle it well. Do not lose it," the Lord Commander said with a firm tone.
Tormund rolled his eyes.
The three entered the tent.
Inside, it was warm. A large fire burned in a pit in the centre, filling the space with heat and light. The walls were covered with furs, maps, and small chests. There were weapons, travel tools, and supplies arranged neatly.
And at the far end sat Mance Rayder.
Mance was not dressed like a wildling king. He wore simple, practical clothes. Thick furs, leather, wool. He looked like a ranger, like someone who had spent a lifetime outdoors. His face carried lines of age and experience. His eyes were calm, sharp, thoughtful. A man who listened more than he spoke. A man who could command thousands without raising his voice.
He stood up slowly and nodded to them.
"Lord Commander Jeor Mormont," he said. "Benjen Stark. And someone I do not know." His eyes moved to Manny.
Manny bowed his head slightly. Mance took note but said nothing yet.
The tent felt silent until Mance gestured for them to sit on the furs placed around the fire.
"You asked for a meeting," Mance said. "Tormund says it concerns something serious. Something about the dead."
"Yes," Lord Commander replied. "They are a threat older than our enmity."
End of Chapter 11 — King Beyond the Wall 1