Chapter 29: A Skirmish Outside the Plot
Egger was a little dazed—whether in the novels or the TV series, he didn't remember Benjen Stark encountering any kind of ambush on the return trip from Winterfell to the Wall. Was this aimed at him? Had Jaime and Cersei sent someone to silence him, or had the Starks discovered his lies and sent men to seize him?
It didn't seem likely.
The daze lasted barely a second before a soldier's instinct took over. He drew his steel sword with a sharp clang, stepping in front of Tyrion's two guards to shield the dwarf before they could even react. This short Lannister was his ticket off the Wall. "My Lord, hide quickly!"
"Lord Benjen, come out! I'll cover you!" One of the rapist recruits had the misfortune of taking an arrow to the shoulder; he was rolling on the ground, screaming in agony. Yoren shoved the small skinning knife into the other recruit's hand and roared at him, "If you don't want to die, stay by my side!"
The tent flap flew open, and the First Ranger stepped out, weapon in hand. Figures rushed out from the darkness in all directions, charging the camp with war cries. From the sporadic arrows and flying stones, Benjen quickly deduced the identity of the attackers. "Wildlings! To the horses... damn it, too late! Everyone back to the stone wall, prepare for combat!"
The two Lannister guards should have obeyed Tyrion's orders, but with their master equally panic-stricken, they instinctively followed Stark's lead. The group of nine huddled back-to-back against the old stone wall where the tents were pitched, circling around the one wounded man and the Lannister. They prepared to meet the enemy with grim, tense expressions.
"Aren't the wildlings supposed to be north of the Wall?" Tyrion ducked his head without a shred of noble dignity, hiding behind the tall frames of Egger and Jon, unable to see a thing outside. Egger breathed a sigh of relief once the enemy's identity was clear, while the bastard felt his blood boil at this sudden chance to prove himself. Conversely, though both Lannister guards wore full suits of armor, only one was acting like a soldier. "No one told me the North was this dangerous!"
"Small raiding parties occasionally climb the Wall, but it's rare for them to penetrate this deep into the Wolfswood..."
"Can someone give me something for a weapon? I've nothing to defend myself!"
"Nothing! Here they come!"
There were no heralds, no banners, no drums or horns—not even the glint of proper steel. The wildlings charging them held mostly wooden clubs, stone spears, and stone axes. Egger didn't see a single decent weapon. Then came the twang of a bowstring from one of the Lannister guards; a dark figure shrieked and stumbled out of the charge, clutching a wound.
Such a rabble of wildlings, even with superior numbers, shouldn't be bold enough to attack a party of nine that included Men of the Night's Watch. What was driving them to do this?
Before he could think further, the enemy was upon them. The wildlings were ragged and gaunt, wearing a hodgepodge of boiled leather or ill-fitting, tattered armor. Not a single one wore a helmet.
The Crows prepared for a bloodbath, but as soon as they engaged, Egger realized something was wrong. Though about ten wildlings rushed forward hooting and hollering to surround them, none actually closed in to fight. They stood two meters away, shouting and brandishing their motley weapons, yet they were more defensive than offensive. They didn't act like they wanted lives. Moreover, several wildlings—clearly women—were following behind the men, deftly looting the camp. They didn't even spare the squirrel Yoren hadn't finished skinning.
The young and hot-headed Jon lunged forward but was blocked by two men holding wooden shields. His sword strokes only left notches in the wood, and he was quickly called back by the First Ranger, who feared for his nephew's safety.
If they were only here for supplies, the party wasn't escorting anything vital anyway; there was no need to fight to the death. Let them take what they wanted.
With that thought in mind, the two sides' weapons clattered and poked at each other in a tentative standoff. This stalemate lasted only dozens of seconds before Yoren was the first to realize the disaster: "Their target is the horses!"
Benjen spun around in horror. Sure enough, several shadows were creeping toward the horses tethered nearby, cutting the ropes one by one.
They were here to steal the mounts? Stark realized the truth, his face flushing with rage. With the Night's Watch in decline, warhorses were a rarer resource than men. No longer worried for his men's lives, he swung his steel sword. "Stop them!"
As soldiers of the Watch and Benjen's subordinates, Egger and Yoren were the first to respond. They charged with their commander, instantly tearing through the loose enemy formation. Then came Jon and the Lannister guard named Jakken. The tide of battle turned instantly. The group that had been huddling together surged forward at the command. As Benjen, supported by Egger, cleanly cut one man down, the previously aggressive wildlings broke like a boiling pot, scattering in all directions. Some even dropped their weapons and wooden shields, fleeing into the darkness without looking back.
The scene was strikingly familiar. Aside from the heart-pounding encounter with the Other, every battle Egger had participated in since joining the Watch involved the Great Rangers driving away wildlings who wandered too close to the Wall. The people from beyond the Wall always fled like this. Countless bloody facts proved that none who dared turn and fight could escape the bite of regulated steel.
The First Ranger's command rang out: "Don't pursue fleeing foes! Save the horses first!"
The three Men of the Watch followed their commander with weapons drawn, reaching the trees where the horses were tethered in seconds. During the minute the group had been pinned down, the wildlings outside the circle had cut many ropes and were already riding or driving several horses away.
Most of these horses were assets gifted to the Watch by Northern lords. As members of the Black Brotherhood, Egger and Yoren might actually have to ride them someday... naturally, they put their full effort into the defense. As the three fully armed Crows closed in, the nearest horse-thief let out a cry to warn his companions, abandoned the remaining horses, and vanished into the woods with the plunder already in hand.
The others weren't quite as disciplined in following orders. The recruits and Tyrion remained cautiously in place, but Jon and the guard Jak chased after the enemy with shouts of fury. They caught and cut down two more before stopping at Benjen's repeated calls, returning to camp looking as if they hadn't quite had their fill.
...
The freshly boiled meat soup had leaked all over the ground because the iron pot had been pierced. Amidst the lingering aroma, the makeshift camp was a shambles. Several loaves of bread left on the table had vanished, a dead squirrel had been swiped by a wildling woman, and they were missing a cloak and the iron ladle that had been in the pot... along with various other insignificant trinkets.
If you didn't count the horses, they had lost almost nothing.
"Why would they take my book? Gods, are there even literate wildlings?" Tyrion hopped with frustration. "I don't care about the rest, but that was borrowed from the Winterfell library!"
"I doubt they even know what a book is. They probably just saw it was square and decided to swipe it," Egger offered his sympathies. "It'll likely end up as kindling for a fire, or be torn out page by page to wipe their backsides."
"Do we chase them?" Yoren's face was dark, appearing even more menacing than usual. "We're short eight horses."
"That means we have fourteen left." Benjen knit his brows, weighing the situation. There had been about twenty men and women visible; pursuing or exterminating them with only three Men of the Watch was impossible, and there were likely ambushes in the woods. Ultimately, he shook his head and rejected Yoren's proposal.
A bizarre ambush thus concluded. This was Egger's fourth encounter with wildlings, and his first time being the target of a passive attack, yet like the previous three, there were no Night's Watch casualties.
The gap in combat power and quality between professional soldiers and peasants was as vast as that between wolves and sheep—theoretically, a flock of sheep could kill a wolf if they united, but in reality, no sheep would dare slow down for such a ethereal possibility. As long as the professionals didn't panic, even with the advantage of surprise, the wildlings could only retreat in disgrace after leaving behind three corpses. Had Benjen not been desperate to save the remaining horses, the tally would have been much higher.
Only one recruit—who hadn't even officially joined yet—had been unlucky enough to be hit in the initial sparse rain of arrows. Fortunately, the wildlings didn't have powerful bows, and the quality of the arrows was abysmal—using unbarbed stone heads. Once the arrow was pulled and the wound disinfected, it was merely a flesh wound.
To Jon, Tyrion, and the two guards—men who hadn't seen true war—repelling an ambush at the cost of zero for three was undoubtedly a great victory. To Egger, the fact that he was unharmed was more important than anything. But Benjen Stark felt a deep sense of shame. The warhorses at Castle Black were already few; to have nearly a tenth of his command's mounts stolen under his watch by a rabble of wildlings was a blow he hadn't suffered since joining the Brotherhood.
Beyond the loss of horses, the implication of the attack was more significant: the wildlings were accelerating their flight south. The situation north of the Wall was clearly deteriorating. Another ranging had to be organized as soon as possible to determine the status of the threat.
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