The north wind carried fine snow, carving intricate lines on the ice surface atop the Wall.
Lord Commander Karon Karstark rode at the front, his black robe hem sweeping frost flowers on the ice. He pointed to the continuous shadows in the west, voice wrapped in cold wind: "Behold, Prince. That is the Shadow Tower, one of the three manned castles on the Wall, guarding the natural barrier of the Gorge—the only way wildlings can bypass the Wall."
Daemon pulled on The Cannibal's reins. The black dragon's breath condensed into white pillars in the cold air.
Following Karon's direction, the Shadow Tower was embedded on the cliff edge like an eagle's nest. The ninety-foot-tall main tower was built from Gorge cliff stones, half its body jutting out over the abyss. The secret door to underground tunnels was hidden in the rock face, leaving only a thin crack—a defensive fortification for twenty or thirty men, like a giant's eye embedded in stone.
"Masons spent thirty years digging these tunnels." Karon's voice carried on the wind. "Underneath are armories, stables, and breweries—half of Night's Watch ale is brewed here." He dismounted, leading everyone up the wooden stairs atop the Wall. "We Night's Watch brothers are divided into three orders: Stewards manage food and clothing, Builders repair the Wall, Rangers patrol beyond. I was a Ranger in my youth, chased wildlings for three days and nights in the Haunted Forest."
Brandon Stark's eyes lit up: "Then Grand-Uncle, have you seen giants?"
"Seen once." Karon smiled, memories flashing in his grey eyes. "Over by the Gorge, taller than city walls, stone axes in hand capable of snapping pines. But they rarely approach the Wall now."
When the retinue reached Westwatch-by-the-Bridge, everyone stopped.
This isolated tower on the sheer cliff stood three hundred feet high. Two massive iron chains extended from the tower top to the Shadow Tower across the way. Faded skulls hung on the chain bridge—the origin of the name "Bridge of Skulls."
The tower body below the rope bridge was solid rock, with only an internal slope for passage. The stone door at the bottom fit seamlessly, as if merged with the cliff.
"This is the westernmost fortress of the Wall." Karon touched the stone texture of the tower. "For three hundred years, no wildling has broken through here. The chain bridge anchors are at two hundred and fifty feet; once chains are pulled, even giants can't pass."
Gael landed Dreamfyre in a nearby clearing, pale blue wings sweeping snow: "More precipitous than Castle Black." Mysaria held onto the dragon's neck, looking at skulls on the chain bridge, whispering: "Are those—wildlings?"
"Wildlings, and Watchmen." Karon's voice deepened. "Battles in the Gorge never have winners."
Traveling east for several days, they reached Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. The sea breeze of the Bay of Seals carried salty breath, blowing eyes shut.
Dozens of warships docked in the harbor; some slender as arrows, some huge as fortresses—the Night's Watch fleet, patrolling to catch smugglers selling weapons to wildlings. Fishermen on shore mending nets stopped to bow in awe seeing Daemon's dragons.
"Greenguard is four miles east, the Night's Watch shipyard." Karon pointed to distant wooden huts. "Ships built are launched into sea from the river, sailing north to join the fleet here."
He paused, adding, "Our Lord Commander is elected. Noble or commoner, as long as brothers trust you, you can serve—five hundred years ago Lothor Hightower tried to pass the position to his bastard, kicked down in less than half a year."
Daemon nodded, gaze on fleet banners—simple black sigils snapping in the wind, like countless watching eyes.
In the following days, the group visited Deep Lake and the Nightfort.
Deep Lake sat by a green lake. White towers reflected in the water, exceptionally bright—built with jewelry pawned by Queen Alysanne, replacing the ancient Nightfort. A small statue of the Queen stood by the lake; silver dress seemed to still flutter in the wind.
"The Queen said the Nightfort was too big for the Watch to maintain." Karon touched the statue base. "She convinced Watchmen then to move here; money saved bought three years of grain."
The Nightfort was another scene. As the first castle of the Wall, its stairs were carved directly from the ice wall; ice patterns on steps were ancient as tree rings.
In the castle ruins, First Men stone foundations were visible. Wind passing through broken walls sounded like recounting eight thousand years of watch.
"The ice stairs here are the only path through the ice wall." Karon's voice held awe. "Left by Brandon the Builder, still usable now."
Returning to Castle Black, it was the fifth evening. Karon sat by the hearth rubbing his brow, tone weary: "After the Thenn clan came to the Gift, three more free folk clans followed—mostly women, children, and elderly. Young men are peaceful too, but supplies are truly insufficient. Fortunately midsummer is coming; ice south of the North melted, can transport some grain."
Daemon put down his ale, tone firm: "I will write to King's Landing, asking Grandfather to increase supplies to the Wall—not just grain, but iron and medicine. Also, I will suggest selecting prisoners with lighter crimes for the Wall; Stewards lack manpower, Builders can repair the Wall."
He paused, adding, "If free folk want to go further south, I'll have the Iron Throne approve some ownerless wasteland for them to farm; the Kingswood can organize hunting teams to trade with Northern Watchmen, benefiting everyone."
Karon looked up abruptly, shock in grey eyes turning to excitement.
He rose to walk to Daemon, almost kneeling: "Prince... you are truly the most caring royal member for the Wall since Queen Alysanne! If not for Night's Watch neutrality, I'd want to lead brothers to swear fealty to you!"
"No need." Daemon helped him up, respect in violet eyes. "Night's Watch guards the Seven Kingdoms; I only did what should be done."
Brandon slapped the table, shouting: "Well said! In future, after yearly hunts with brothers, all surplus game will be sent to the Wall!"
Gael nodded in agreement. Mysaria whispered: "I think we can send Maesters to teach free folk children literacy and Common Tongue, let them know stories of the Seven Kingdoms."
Larys Strong sat in the corner wrapped in black robe, thoughtful light in black eyes—watching Daemon and Karon, suddenly feeling this Prince's gaze went far beyond the North or Iron Throne he assumed, but the future of all Westeros.
That night, Daemon suggested going to the ice stairs of the Nightfort. Moonlight fell on the Wall's ice surface, gleaming pale blue. Long howls from distant Wolfswood wove with Wall wind into a solemn melody.
Karon and Watchmen stood behind, black cloaks snapping in the wind. Daemon walked to the ice stairs, silver hair loose behind shoulders, right hand on Blackfyre hilt, voice clear as a bell echoing in the long night:
"The Night's Watch oath is good. Tonight, let me recite it to inspire you all to forge ahead.
Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death.
I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children.
I shall wear no crowns and win no glory.
I shall live and die at my post.
I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls.
I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men.
I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come."
When the oath fell again, the north wind seemed to stop. No longer accompanied by song melody, but Daemon's heartfelt respect. Karon and Watchmen knelt on one knee, right hands on black sigils on chests, eyes full of reverence.
The Cannibal and Dreamfyre let out low roars in the distance. Dragon breath condensed into white steam in cold air, like a tribute to this oath.
Daemon looked at the ice stairs before him, at the Watchmen behind him, feeling the brand on his right shoulder no longer hot. This inexplicable daily heat instead reminded Daemon of a bit more heavy responsibility.
This Wall wasn't a cold barrier, but a protection built by countless lives—he wanted to guard this protection, guard dragon fire, guard the future of the Seven Kingdoms.
Under moonlight, the Wall's ice surface gleamed pale blue like a galaxy spanning the continent. Night's Watch singing rose gradually, low and firm, echoing long in the long night with the oath recited by Daemon.
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