Chapter 218: Where Are the Reinforcements?
As Ygritte was pulled away by Jon, her face a mask of defiance, the hall erupted into noise once more.
Some cursed Jon for being blinded by lust, others spat at the wildling girl's ingratitude... but without question, every man of the Night's Watch was unsettled by Mance Rayder's massive invasion plan and their own agonizing lack of manpower. Those with quicker wits had already begun debating potential strategies.
Egger watched the wildling woman depart, sighed, and turned to Mormont with a slow shake of his head.
In those final moments, he had forcibly invented a pretext to claw back some dignity, successfully dampening the girl's arrogance, but such verbal sparring was ultimately meaningless. Time is on our side might have been a convenient narrative, but the Watch had to survive long enough to see it prove true... and in reality, only the Others knew when they would grow strong enough to close in on the Wall. Whether the Wildlings breached the Wall to destroy the Watch, or the Watch held them out only for the Free Folk to be turned into a literal army of the dead—neither was an ending Egger wanted to see.
"Lord Commander, what I told that girl just now was mere guesswork to save face. The reality is this: we have no hope of stopping Mance Rayder if he executes that plan."
"We must move all the inhabitants of the Gift... relocate them into our strongholds for protection immediately," Maester Aemon said slowly. "Our numbers are already critically low. If we allow the Wildlings to slaughter them or force them to flee south, the situation will only spiral. The tragedy of Mole's Town must not be repeated."
"I will arrange it as quickly as possible. Does anyone else have suggestions or ideas?"
"Castle Black and the Shadow Tower must have walls of their own, and soon," the Chief Builder said, his voice heavy. By tradition and the regulations of the Order, the Night's Watch was forbidden from fortifying its own keeps against the south, but now that the era of Wildlings fearing to attack the strongholds was over, it was time for change.
"This..." Mormont hesitated for a few seconds before finally nodding. "Put it on the agenda. Repair or dismantle the derelict towers of Castle Black and use the salvaged stone to raise walls."
The First Ranger turned his head. "We must also restore patrols along the top of the Wall as much as possible. We cannot risk the Wildlings scaling the ice again and flanking us from the summit. Once we lose the advantage of height, we lose everything."
"The path atop the ice hasn't been cleared of snow or graveled in years. It's impassable. If the Wildlings want to flank us up there, they'd have to clear the way first. I doubt they have the leisure for that."
"The path is indeed treacherous, but do you think a few miles of uncleared ice will stop the madmen who just climbed seven hundred feet of vertical wall?"
"Fine, fine, you're right." The Chief Builder grew irritable. "I want to restore patrols too, but where is the manpower? To patrol, we first need men to clear the path, then men to walk it. All of that requires bodies. If we assign too many, our strongholds are left vulnerable; if we assign too few... what happens when they run into Wildlings who have already made the top?"
...
"It all comes back to the same issue: the shortage of men," Egger interrupted, his expression grim. "Unless we solve the manpower crisis, all of these are mere stopgap measures. I don't know if you are aware, but the Wildlings have means of scouting us from the air using birds. Everything we do is laid bare to them. Every military deployment, every weakness—our enemy sees it all! After today, with the girl broadcasting Mance's plan, this war has become a 'face-up' game of cards. To win a struggle where there are no secrets, we need more than just luck; we need a force that is tangibly stronger... or at least not significantly weaker than theirs."
"Undoubtedly, we must find outside help," Mormont took a deep breath. "Otherwise, our only choices are destruction or negotiating to open the gates for Mance."
"Negotiation is an option, but the problem is that we have nothing to guarantee that the Wildlings won't turn around and slit our throats the moment they step through," Jaremy reminded him. "In their eyes, we are the 'Kneelers,' beyond redemption. Unless there is a blade at their necks, they will never accept our laws or systems. Look at that girl today... we see them as savages, but she likely thinks letting us 'thieves' live is the ultimate mercy."
"There will be no 'negotiation' without first suppressing their arrogance," Egger said. "Without parity in strength, it's not a negotiation—it's a plea for mercy. We must find a way to take the wind out of Mance Rayder's sails. And if we are looking for reinforcements..."
"You've spent years in the south. Surely you have connections? Sellswords, perhaps?"
"Sellswords? Ha..." Egger gave a short laugh. "The Lord Commander is joking. You have no idea of the price of steel. The Logistics Department has some decent business in King's Landing, yes, but to maintain a mercenary company—one large enough to fight a hundred thousand Wildlings? It's a fantasy. Besides, with the south at war, anyone who can swing a sword is looking for a rich lord to pay them. The prices will be astronomical. What we need are cheap allies—ideally, those who cost nothing."
Cheap, free allies... where in the world does such a thing exist?
Egger hadn't had anyone specific in mind when he spoke, but a half-second after the words left his mouth, a potential candidate struck him. "When Robb Stark marched south, did he call upon the Mountain Clans?"
The Mountain Clans!
Everyone in the room turned toward him. On several faces, the expression was clearly: Why didn't I think of that?
"He did. Every clan sent warriors to follow Robb. The chiefs of those tribes all knew Eddard Stark; they called him 'The Ned,' their High Chief. Once word reached them that it was his command—and that they were going south to 'rob the richest lords in the Seven Kingdoms'—every clan chief was eager."
Hope flickered out, but Mormont quickly reignited it. "Wait. They sent their warriors south, yes. But the Mountain Clans are different from the other smallfolk of the North—they don't farm."
They don't farm? What does that mean?
Egger puzzled over it for a second before the realization hit him. "They don't farm, which means the 'autumn harvest' is meaningless to them. They sent their young warriors with Robb, but the rest of the clans remain. They could still support us!"
"Exactly!" the Chief Steward slapped the table in delight. "The Mountain Clans live much like the Wildlings. The only difference is that they've been 'tamed' by the North over thousands of years. They are fierce, and both men and women can fight. If we can persuade them to descend and assist in the defense of the Wall, our manpower pressure will vanish!"
The idea was Egger's, but his knowledge of the Mountain Clans was limited. He needed more information.
...
The Night's Watch had long traded resources and necessities with the clans and knew them well. After some discussion, Egger formed a preliminary impression of these "friendly savages" living south of the Wall.
In the words of Tyrion Lannister, Wildlings were "the people who happened to be on the north side of the Wall when it went up." The Mountain Clans were simply the lucky ones on the south side.
Living in the mountains north of the Wolfswood, these tribes shared nearly identical cultures and habits with the Free Folk beyond the Wall. They were devout followers of the Old Gods, possessed hardy temperaments, and were divided into nearly forty clans. Among them, the Flints and the Norreys lived closest to the Gift and were frequently exposed to Wildling raiders crossing the Gorge; they were famously close to the Night's Watch.
Poor, bellicose, and fiercely proud—they were the perfect reinforcements.
"How many can they field?"
"Hard to say; no one's ever counted. Combined, perhaps twenty or thirty thousand souls across all forty clans. Realistically, the tribes further from the Wall might be hard to move... but even if we only draw out one or two thousand, it would solve our crisis!"
"Thousands of men!"
"And maybe women among them!"
"Is that all you think about, womanizing?"
...
"Excellent. It seems today's council was not in vain; we have found a viable path forward." A sliver of relief returned to Mormont's face. He coughed to silence the excited chatter. "The specifics will be handled by each department; we won't debate them in full assembly. Now, for the assignments..."
The hall fell silent as all eyes fixed on the Lord Commander.
"The top of the Wall and the perimeter of our strongholds must be manned at all times; that task falls to the Rangers. Castle Black and the Shadow Tower must begin their walls; the Builders will oversee that. Chief Steward, you are to immediately dispatch men to relocate the surviving Gift residents into our three main keeps. Chief Logistics Officer, you have a way with people; you are tasked with visiting the clans in the mountains west of the Gift to request their aid."
The Old Bear scanned the room, his gaze lingering on Jaime and his remaining bodyguards. "Finally, I am transferring twenty more rangers from Castle Black to Eastwatch for naval training, so the warships donated by Lord Manderly of White Harbor can be put to use. As for the vacancies in the Rangers, Endrew Tarth... we have a fresh batch of recruits of decent quality. Finish their training as quickly as possible and assign them to the Rangers. All orders are effective immediately. This council is adjourned!"
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