Chapter 31: Fulfilling the Promise
The clash of steel echoed across the plaza—another ordinary day at Castle Black.
Commander Mormont had shouldered the pressure from House Royce on behalf of the three survivors of the ranging. Now, cleared of the suspicion of desertion, the three who had escaped the blade of an Other were free to move about the castle once more.
At this moment, Egger stood with Tyrion on the balcony overlooking the yard, leaning against the railing as they watched the recruits train. It gave him a fleeting sense of being back in his university days, standing by the running track watching a new batch of freshmen undergo military drills.
The only disappointment was that among these recruits, there were no women—and hardly any men with decent features.
...
Jon, dressed in a black wool shirt under a leather vest and mail, stood in the center of the yard sparring with an opponent using a blunted training sword.
There were nearly twenty recruits in this training cycle; including Jon as a volunteer, it was a large group compared to previous years. Most were between fourteen and eighteen, yet in combat, not one was a match for the youngest among them, the bastard. Some were agile but timid, more skittish than Will; others lacked any technique and kept trying to thrust their swords like daggers; one was almost as delicate as a girl... the common thread among the rest was that they were dull-witted, slow, and clumsy. Jon was a tiger among wolves; within minutes, he had defeated four in a row. Now, with a beautiful feint, he sent a thick-necked recruit stumbling, landing a blow to the head before parrying the boy's sword on the retreat and driving an elbow into his gut.
The thick-necked recruit lost his balance and fell hard into the snow, his blunt sword slipping from his hand.
Egger had to admit, Jon's swordsmanship was as impressive as the boy had bragged. Even if Egger—a "veteran" ten years older who had joined the Black Brothers a year earlier—were to spar with him, he doubted he could achieve more than a draw through pure defense.
The training was called to a halt by the master-at-arms. Alliser Thorne, who had been forced to the Wall after being on the losing side of the Usurper's War, naturally had no love for the victorious Stark's bastard. He and Jon exchanged words in the center of the yard; they were too far away to hear the content, but it clearly wasn't a warm conversation—anger flashed across the boy's face.
...
"The lad certainly has talent," Tyrion remarked. Several days had passed since the forced march, but his rear was still so numb he couldn't sit; only standing offered any comfort. "Though he's being a bit heavy-handed with his future 'brothers'".
"He joined the Watch for honor, only to find the reality is nothing like the dream. The disappointment and resentment of feeling abandoned by his father are beyond words—it's all being channeled into strength against his opponents."
"Concise and to the point; you sound like a poet again," Tyrion smiled. "But if he keeps this up, he'll have a hard time in the Watch. Someone needs to tell him how things work."
"You truly have a kind heart."
"Can't help it. I have a small weakness for sympathizing with bastards, cripples, broken things, and various people who have found themselves in trouble through a stroke of bad luck."
"So, I've found myself in trouble, but I'm lucky enough to be pitied because I fall into your final category... does that make my luck good or bad?"
"Hmm... good question. You've stumped me."
As the days passed, the relationship between the two had grown increasingly casual and close. The dwarf truly possessed the qualities of a protagonist; despite his noble birth, he never put on airs or looked down on others. Being not disliked was a skill in itself—a sign of intelligence. That trait, paired with a sharp mind, meant he was destined for great things.
He smiled now. "How are things progressing on your end?"
"The First Ranger has begun preparing for the next patrol. I'm expected to lead the way." Egger was frantic inside, but he kept his tone light. "How much longer will you stay at the Wall?"
"As long as I like. It's not as if I have a pile of state affairs to attend to." The dwarf shrugged. "How long does a patrol usually take?"
"At least a month or two, at most half a year."
"That's a shame. I was hoping you'd catch an Other and bring it back for me to see, just to prove you weren't blowing smoke." Tyrion made a face of deep regret. "I mainly came here to see the legendary Wall and climb to the top to piss off the edge of the world. I can't stay that long."
Catch an Other? The collection of obsidian weapons was only in its infancy. So far, the materials gathered weren't even enough to equip a small scouting party, not to mention the inherent fragility of the glass, which meant it couldn't be used as a standard weapon like Valyrian steel. Dragonsteel weapons were destined to be used only in specific moments to wound ice-magic creatures; they merely shifted humanity's odds from certain defeat to possible survival. They weren't some world-breaking power. If he went beyond the Wall without total preparation, he'd be thanking the gods just to return alive, let alone thinking about a live capture.
The time to deal with the Others was far from ripe, but the stubbornness of the Starks had been inherited in full by Benjen. No matter how Egger tried to persuade him, the First Ranger refused to cancel or delay the mission.
"My Lord, capturing a wight might be possible, but an Other... I fear we simply don't have the capability," Egger explained with a hint of anxious urgency. "Lord Benjen's patrol is meant to verify the existence of the Others. Once he returns, perhaps the Watch can plan an operation to find evidence for the realm..."
If he joined this patrol, the odds were high he wouldn't return. The only solution was to evade the assignment!
Though he was laughing and joking with Tyrion, the dwarf was still a true Lannister—a high lord. He had already promised to help; if Egger pushed him further, what would that make him look like?
...
"Alright, it was just a joke. I'm willing to take you away from the Wall, and it's not because you killed some nonsense magical creature." The dwarf shrugged. "No more explanations needed. I'll go find your Commander now and ask for you. And remember, I told you—don't call me 'Lord'."
"Very well, Tyrion." Egger breathed a sigh of relief and gave a grateful smile. "I'll wait for your good news then."
"I hope not to disappoint." With that, the dwarf turned and waddled toward the Lord Commander's quarters on his short legs. After a few paces, he looked back and waved him off. "Find somewhere to sit; no need to wait for me here."
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