Chapter 30: Forced March
The First Ranger, his face grim, ordered the men to tether the remaining horses closer to the tents. He then led Egger and Yoren in setting up traps among the surrounding trees to deter ambushes and rigging alarm triggers. Only after the night watch rotation was settled did he release the group to handle the remains of their dinner.
"What was it I said? One moment you're a philosopher, and the next you're a true warrior." Sipping the meager remains of the stew from the bottom of the pot, Tyrion still looked shaken. He had been shielded behind Egger at the very start of the attack, and his feelings toward this man of the Night's Watch had grown even more complex. "I never used to believe the Night's Watch was the most elite force in the Seven Kingdoms, but now I'm starting to suspect you really did kill an Other."
After a fight with wildlings, any unit would look like the elite of the Seven Kingdoms, Egger thought with inward amusement, though he wouldn't dare undermine his brothers' prestige aloud. "Er, thank you for the compliment, but I never lied to you in the first place."
"Call me Tyrion; I owe you one," the dwarf said. "Regarding what we agreed upon earlier, I will do my best to make it happen."
"Then I'll thank you in advance, Tyrion... ahem." Egger coughed; he had been forcing himself to adhere to the titles and etiquette of the Westerosi hierarchy for so long that returning to normalcy felt slightly awkward.
The skirmish had begun and ended in a flash. Egger wasn't sure exactly how he appeared in Tyrion's eyes during the fight, but he knew the truth: he hadn't done anything extraordinary.
The truly brave and powerful wildling warriors were currently gathered under Mance Rayder's banner, stationed amidst the peaks of the Frostfangs discussing how to deal with the Others. The raiders they had just faced were weak even by their own standards. Any trained soldier, provided they weren't unlucky enough to be hit in the initial rain of arrows, would not have lost that fight. Forming a line to face the wildlings and then charging to drive them off was simply a matter of following the First Ranger's orders—any other ranger would have done just as well.
The only truly calculated move was shielding Tyrion, and that was purely for his own chances of leaving the Wall. Even if he hadn't, that sporadic, weak rain of arrows was unlikely to threaten the dwarf... perhaps it was simply that instinctive gesture that moved the Lannister?
Since things had reached this point, he had no reason to expose his own motives. Tyrion was likely seeing a real battle for the first time, and it was understandable that, in his tension, he imagined the man drawing a sword to protect him as braver and stronger than he actually was. Egger hadn't intentionally created this false impression, but it didn't hurt him, so there was no need to explain.
"How could wildlings appear here?" Jon Snow had just killed his first enemy; a mixture of guilt and adrenaline had turned his face flushed, and he couldn't calm down. "In Winterfell, I rarely heard news of this sort."
"Actually, it hasn't happened for a long time. Climbing the Wall is a dangerous business," Egger explained heavily. "If it were just about survival, the Wolfswood has more than enough resources to feed them... but these wildlings likely wanted to flee further south, seeking a place to spend the winter and hide from the Others. Without transport or food, it's impossible to evade the Northern patrols and make it to the Neck, so they had to risk attacking us. Even if they hadn't caught us, the nearest village or farmstead would have suffered."
"The Others." The more timid of the Lannister guards shivered. "Aren't those just monsters from old tales? Do they really exist?"
On any other day, they wouldn't have believed such "ghost stories." But having just repelled a nighttime ambush, their rational defenses were low. The distant trees swayed in the cold wind, casting shifting shadows that made it feel as if something were watching them from the dark. The listeners grew visibly unsettled.
"Don't worry, the man standing before you has killed one," Jon said excitedly, pride swelling in his voice for knowing the "Other-slayer" personally. "If those things really show up... Egger, you still have your obsidian dagger, right?"
"I have it. Don't worry, never mind that the Others can't cross the Wall—even if they could, I'd kill them as they come," Egger said with a confident smile, patting his pack and talking a big game.
...
Though he looked confident, Egger felt anything but relaxed. At this very moment, the lands north of the Wall had likely turned into a living hell, and no small groups of wildlings remained alive. Aside from the hundred thousand huddled together for warmth, the rest had either fled into the North or become part of the army of wights. Although he was determined to leave the Wall to avoid these creatures, he was still part of humanity. If the Wall fell and the Seven Kingdoms were invaded, a transmigrator like himself, with no family or power behind him, would find it hard to even secure a path to another continent.
The group finished their interrupted dinner in peace, yet sleep remained elusive. After chatting a while longer, Benjen emerged from his tent. "Stop the talking and get some sleep. We have these ruins for cover here, but further north is just open, empty land. At our current pace, we still have three days of travel and two nights in the wild. That's too dangerous. I've decided we will begin a forced march at dawn. We won't camp tomorrow night; we'll push the horses and try to reach Castle Black within twenty-four hours."
The group nodded in agreement. Egger knew the plot was already shifting—this unscripted ambush was the clearest sign. Whether it was caused by his butterfly effect remained unknown: perhaps his presence had altered the timing of their return, or perhaps this group of wildlings was supposed to have been killed by the Other he had slain. Regardless, the narrative had changed. If one accident could happen, a second could follow. Wildling combat prowess wasn't terrifying, but a thrown stone or a stray arrow could kill just as easily.
"Then you all go in and sleep. Jakken and I will take the first watch," Egger stood up. "Leave the mess; we'll clean it up."
The camp emptied quickly. Before leaving, Tyrion patted Egger on the shoulder. "Be careful, you two."
The first half of the night passed without incident, and the second watch fell to Jon and Mauris. The night ended quietly. When the sun rose the next day, everyone was up early, packing tents and gear onto the horses and saddling up to continue north.
The weather grew harsher. The surface temperature finally dropped below freezing, meaning the falling snow began to accumulate on the ground. A forced march was routine for rangers, especially for Egger, who had recently endured a ten-day flight for his life... but the others lacked such endurance. By the time they finished over ten hours of travel across hundreds of leagues, Tyrion and the two Lannister guards had lost all sensation in their rear ends. As they passed through the gates of Castle Black and dismounted, their legs shook so violently they seemed to have forgotten how to walk.
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