Chapter 27: Setting Out Again
Egger returned quietly to his room under the cover of night, his heart unable to settle for a long time.
This was a massive gamble—a desperate venture intended to rectify his clumsy failure to prevent Bran's fall and to clear away potential obstacles for his future departure from the Wall. It felt like spinning one lie to cover another; though he had slipped through for now, the danger of the aftermath was no less than facing an Other. Should the parties ever be truly confronted, a low-born soldier like him, accused of slandering a prince, would undoubtedly lose his head.
Much like Littlefinger telling Catelyn that the dagger used by the assassin belonged to Tyrion, Egger was betting that the Starks, upon learning this, would respond with quiet vigilance rather than a public explosion. But unlike Petyr Baelish, Egger wasn't sewing discord to climb the ladder of chaos; he wanted the situation stable enough for him to leave the Wall safely—to survive long enough to find a way to shed his black cloak for good.
Given his knowledge of the plot and the characters' temperaments, the odds of winning his bet were high, but the fact remained that he was staking his life on it. Now, he had done all he could; whether he lived or died was entirely in the hands of the high lords.
If he could choose his destiny, he hoped he would never again have to gamble with his life just to stay safe.
Bran remained comatose, just as in the original story. The only ones truly consumed by grief were the boy's family; for the other residents of Winterfell—and especially the hundreds of guests from King's Landing—life had to go on. Egger took advantage of a quiet moment to sheepishly return the archery targets and straw men from the old inner ward to the armory. For the next four days, he stayed in his room, keeping a low profile and waiting for the day of departure. Finally, a servant brought word from Benjen: they would set out for the Wall the following morning, at the same time the King and the new Hand departed.
...
The sky was a hazy grey, filled with light flurries of snow. Egger felt a pang of reluctance as he left his small guest room—a place on the ground floor that boasted heating and a soft bed, a veritable paradise compared to the Wall. After a quick breakfast, he headed to the courtyard to wait.
The King likely hadn't risen yet, and the Lord of Winterfell and the First Ranger had yet to appear. In any assembly, it was the duty of the subordinates and juniors to arrive first and wait for the great lords.
Five days had passed since Bran's fall. Egger seemed to have been forgotten; no one had summoned him for questioning or a confrontation. This brought him a measure of peace, but what heartened him more was the news that his warning had worked: he learned from a servant that guards now stood watch outside Bran's room day and night. His bold gamble was half-won. Now, as long as the assassin found no opening and Tyrion successfully convinced the Night's Watch leadership to let Egger leave as a "recruiter," he would finally be free of the Wall.
May everything go smoothly.
...
The King's and the Hand's retinues gradually gathered. Jon Snow appeared and greeted Egger. The boy was confirmed to be heading north with Benjen to join the Watch. In Jon's eyes, Egger was now a brother-in-arms and a senior mentor; even though Jon knew Egger was trying to leave, he instinctively sought the man's company.
"Morning," Egger nodded to the boy. "When I was your age, I couldn't get out of bed before the sun was up."
"From today on, Uncle Benjen is my commander," Jon replied with a smile. "Ser Rodrik told me I should make a good impression on my new superior."
"True enough. Take it from someone who's been there: in a few years, you'll find that doing a good job is often far less important than looking like you're doing a good job."
"Doing well is less important than looking well?" Jon tilted his head, puzzled. "Is there a difference?"
"Sometimes there isn't. But more often than not, the difference is vast."
...
A bastard and a Crow walked and talked in the yard for a while, eventually wandering to the blacksmith's shop at the south end of the courtyard. There, Jon stopped to collect a slender, elegant smallsword he had commissioned as a gift for Arya.
"Such a small blade—it's for a girl, isn't it?" Egger asked, feigning ignorance.
Jon wiped the blade clean and inspected it closely. "Aye. Don't go telling people about this, and I won't go telling people about what you've been discussing with the Imp."
"Heh, you little brat!" Despite his lingering worries about the future, Egger managed a relaxed laugh. "Fine. It's a deal."
"Boy, you're off to the Wall today?" A boisterous male voice rang out behind them. Jaime Lannister approached, looking refreshed and cheerful, seemingly entirely unaffected by Bran's fall. He was genuinely delighted to finally be leaving Winterfell—a place so dismal he couldn't even find a decent spot for a tryst.
"Yes, my Lord..."
"Please convey my respects to the Night's Watch. I am grateful that a fine group of men like you are guarding the North for the realm, keeping us safe from wildlings, Others, and whatever other monsters are out there. Let me say thank you in advance." He extended a hand to Jon. The boy hesitated a moment before shaking it.
A few seconds later, the Kingslayer extended his hand to Egger. "And you, Other-slayer. Be sure to kill a few more. Don't let those ghoulish things cross the Wall."
"Happy to be of service." The Watchman shook his hand with some trepidation. Jaime squeezed with sudden, hidden force, making Egger's palm ache until he exerted his own strength to counter the pressure.
"Right then. I wish you a smooth journey." The golden-haired knight dropped the cryptic gesture, threw out a casual farewell, and turned to walk away without looking back.
Watching the man's receding back, Jon knit his brows in annoyance. "What was that supposed to mean?"
"What else could it mean?" Egger shrugged, knowing full well that Jaime was warning him to keep his mouth shut. But Egger had too much on his mind to care about the whims of a cynical aristocrat. "These high-born sons from the south have nothing to do all day; they've grown a bit neurotic from boredom."
The boy nodded, appearing half-convinced, and took the smallsword from the blacksmith. "I must go say my goodbyes to my brothers and sisters. Excuse me."
"Go on, then."
The bastard turned and left. He had grown up here, and the parting clearly weighed on him. Compared to Jon, Egger had no kith or kin in this castle—or this world—and felt no such attachment. After wandering aimlessly for a bit, he was hailed by a late-arriving Tyrion. He sat with the dwarf on a railing at the edge of the courtyard, chatting about more curiosities while watching the southward-bound procession take shape.
The sun was obscured by clouds, but the day grew steadily brighter. Around nine in the morning, the two most important figures finally appeared. With few words left to say, those about to part kissed and embraced before resolutely mounting their horses. They rode out of Winterfell through the Hunter's Gate, turning west onto the Kingsroad to begin their journey.
After a few miles of riding together amidst the din of men and horses and the creaking groans of the Queen's wheelhouse, the King's banners, wagons, knights, and freeriders turned left at the first fork to head south. Egger, Benjen Stark, Jon Snow, Tyrion, and the dwarf's two guards veered north.
His half-month in Winterfell—filled with good food and drink, but also peril and surprises—had come to an end. Waiting for the two men of the Night's Watch was the Wall, still standing firm, and the army of the dead beyond it, which had surely grown even larger in the time they were away.
Support me on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/c/MistaQuartz
On Patreon, you can explore Extra Chapters in advance!