Chapter 213: Maester Aemon's Plea for Help on the Wall
"The Night's Watch's situation is worsening, and I desperately need the aid of the Seven Kingdoms," Maester Aemon wrote in his letter.
Maester Aemon was always proud of Rhaegar's achievements on the battlefield. Rhaegar was the hope of House Targaryen. At the same time, Maester Aemon never stopped advising him on various matters—cautioning him to value his safety, not to fight recklessly, warning him of the unpredictable dangers of battle and the brutality of political struggle. He also urged him not to become superstitious about dragon dreams, claiming there were already enough mad Targaryen men in history. He advised him to marry early to continue the Targaryen line, and not to choose a Dornish woman, whom he had heard was too frail.
However, after these familiar familial admonitions, the letter turned into a direct plea for men and gold for the Night's Watch.
"This letter is asking me for money and men!" Rhaegar found it somewhat difficult to accept.
In the past, Maester Aemon's letters were filled with family concerns and personal counsel. This time, however, it was an outright request for aid.
The Night's Watch's situation had deteriorated to a severe degree. This was not merely Maester Aemon's request, but the collective will of the Night's Watch command.
Rhaegar occasionally corresponded with his great-great-uncle through ravens. Maester Aemon was already the oldest living member of House Targaryen, and perhaps the oldest maester in the world.
"Warm springs and long summers are not eternal. The days are slowly growing shorter, and I have already foreseen a possibility—confirmed also in the Citadel's replies. We may be approaching an unprecedentedly long winter, one that brings hunger and darkness across all lands. An age of shadow is coming.
Now all manner of creatures are seen in the forests—direwolves, mammoths, and snow bears as large as aurochs. Some have even reported more terrifying things… the White Walkers.
The wildlings moving south are only their vanguard. We remain ever vigilant."
Maester Aemon first described the severity of the situation.
He feared the coming winter, yet also believed it to be inevitable.
"The Night's Watch is indeed the shield that guards the realms of men. If we cannot withstand the forces of darkness, the entire Seven Kingdoms will be swallowed by night."
"You are absolutely right, Great-Great-Uncle, the venerable Maester Aemon—but at present, no one believes it," Rhaegar said with a bitter smile, continuing to read.
Rhaegar knew the future story well. Wildlings and Others lurked in the North, threatening the world of men.
He believed it, but others did not.
There was no helping it—the Night's Watch now possessed no political influence at all.
Outside the North, their words were treated as the ramblings of eccentrics.
Mammoths, dire wolves, White Walkers—southern lords considered it all madness.
Few in the South were willing to go North.
"If history follows its course, then in the coming years, as conditions worsen, the wildlings will cross the Wall—and then the Others will follow. But I do not know how events will truly unfold. It is inevitable, but the timing is uncertain."
Rhaegar also did not know how much he could change the course of events.
Perhaps his interference would even accelerate the crisis in the North.
The Wall faced two threats: the Others and the wildlings.
For nearly a thousand years, since the Others had not been seen, the primary threat had always been wildling raids.
"You are a great knight across the Seven Kingdoms, a man of influence, and your words carry weight. I hope you, Rhaegar, can speak to King Jaehaerys II Targaryen on our behalf and plead our case, telling him how desperately we require aid.
The Night's Watch is steadily shrinking in strength, and our reputation is in ruins. Our total numbers are barely a thousand men—six or seven hundred at Castle Black, two hundred at the Shadow Tower, and even fewer at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea.
Of these, fewer than a third are truly capable of fighting. And the Wall stretches for three hundred miles. If attacked, each mile would be defended by only a handful of men."
"Moreover, among these few brothers, very few can read or write. We have accepted many rapists, murderers, and thieves sent from the dungeons of the Seven Kingdoms.
Though they are my sworn brothers in black, I cannot fully trust their loyalty.
The Lord Commander sends them on ranging missions beyond the Wall, but they are reluctant and fearful.
The Night's Watch is now little more than a ragged collection of exhausted young men and broken old soldiers.
The Lord Commander likely has only thirty or forty literate men under his command, and even fewer who can truly plan or lead.
In the past, the Watch undertook great construction projects each summer, even raising and maintaining the Wall itself. Now we struggle simply to hold the line."
"The Night's Watch has become like a weasel birthing rats—each generation worse than the last. It is truly difficult to ask men to abandon their families and desires to live upon the frozen Wall."
Rhaegar finished reading and could clearly imagine the slow decay of the Night's Watch.
Its prestige had faded year by year.
In the past, joining the Wall was seen as honorable and noble—a sacrifice for the realm.
Many knights, nobles, and men of standing willingly took the black.
Now it had become something else entirely.
A dumping ground for criminals.
In the eyes of most people, recruits were simply pulled from dungeons by "crow pickers" and sent North.
Taking the black had become a way to escape punishment, suited more for the worst of Westeros than for honorable men.
Disgraced nobles and bastards were "encouraged" to join, and most wore the black unwillingly.
"The Night's Watch is in decline," Rhaegar thought.
He could not force good men to go to the Wall—and even if he did, they would likely desert.
"An aging order, and a declining quality of recruits. These are the Watch's two greatest problems."
Rhaegar summarized the situation.
During Aegon's Conquest, the Night's Watch numbered ten thousand men—comparable in strength to the Golden Company.
At that time, the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch was a man named Harlan, brother of Harren the Black, King of the Iron Islands and the Riverlands.
Even when Harren Hoare perished in the fires of Harrenhal, the Night's Watch of ten thousand men remained neutral.
Yet more than two centuries later, it could barely muster a thousand.
"The deeper issue is the unification of the realm. In the past, the Seven Kingdoms were often at war, and defeated men were routinely sent to the Wall. Now that the realm is united, that supply has dwindled."
Rhaegar understood the problem clearly, but had no solution.
The Night's Watch depended on forced exile and desperation.
Given choice, almost no one would willingly choose the frozen isolation of the Wall.
It was cold, brutal, and demanded abandonment of all worldly ties.
And even then, men still broke their oaths.
"Once things stabilize, I will ride north on a dragon to the Wall."
Rhaegar wrote a long reply to Maester Aemon.
He also intended to visit House Stark in the North, and the Wall would naturally be part of that journey.
Ancient houses always seemed tied to gods and strange powers.
The krakens were linked to the Drowned God.
The Starks of Winterfell carried the blood of the First Men.
In the Reach, there were tales of the Greenhand and fox spirits.
Rhaegar also wanted to travel north—to see the frozen lands for himself.
More importantly, to witness skinchangers, and observe the strange magical traces within the Wall and Winterfell.
However, at present, he had no opportunity to travel north.
A far more pressing issue had emerged.
After the barbarian incursion and the founding of Ghoyan Drohe, a Dothraki Khal had already appeared nearby.
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