Chapter 221: New Residents of the Gift
Egger had initially thought that after leaving the treacherous nest of King's Landing and returning to the Wall—armed with the financial might of the Night's Watch industries and his high rank in the Order—he would never again have to lower himself to using silver-tongued exhaustion and "talk-no-jutsu" to settle trouble or solve hardships. Unfortunately, reality had other plans. No sooner had he reunited with Commander Mormont than the old man handed him his first new assignment: once again, he had to go out and persuade people to help.
Luckily, this time the targets were somewhat easier to handle.
The Mountain Clans lived north of the Wolfswood, surviving on hunting and gathering in the high peaks. Historically, they shared a relationship of mutual benefit with both the Northern lords and the Night's Watch, devoid of any conflict of interest. Their ties were close, and their natural disposition toward the Watch was already positive. Add to that their poverty, fierce pride, and sensitivity to honor—such folk, who were unsophisticated yet deeply concerned with "face," were actually the easiest sort to manage.
Egger's strategy was simple: visit them with respect, gifts, and a handful of promissory notes.
Like most of the Night's Watch, Mormont was largely satisfied with the "ransom" Egger periodically sent to the Wall. He had never intended to recall him, let alone expected this self-appointed "Chief Logistics Officer" to consciously return to the Wall of his own accord.
Consequently, when Egger reappeared at Castle Black with a troop of men against all expectations—and jumped straight into combat upon arrival—Mormont, unaware that Egger was actually fleeing to the North to escape trouble, felt a sudden pang of guilt. It seemed all his previous precautions and attempts at control had been the petty suspicions of a small man measuring the heart of a gentleman. Egger had now leapt to become one of his most valued subordinates.
The logic of a Northman was straightforward: why distrust a subordinate who was clever, whose individual contribution to the Order was unmatched, and who chose to return voluntarily at the Wall's darkest hour?
...
When Egger requested that Jaime Lannister and a portion of his companions escort him on his visit to the Mountain Clans, the Old Bear agreed without a moment's hesitation. Egger had singled out Jaime not only for the Kingslayer's extraordinary skill but also out of an instinctive habit of "tethering oneself to major plot characters."
Accompanied by twenty newly promoted rangers and ten personal guards of his own, he first arrived at the lands of the Flints—the clan closest to the Shadow Tower and the largest of the mountain tribes.
The "Flints of the Mountains." The prefix was necessary because, throughout the cold and long history of the North, certain talented individuals from this vast clan had emerged from the peaks to achieve great deeds, earning castles, lands, and earldoms, thereby founding their own branch houses. To distinguish them from the two houses of the same name at Widow's Watch and Flint's Finger, one had to emphasize their ancestral home: "in the mountains."
The Flints who remained in the peaks often preferred another title: "The First Flints."
The hospitality of the Mountain Clans was legendary. After presenting his gifts—a suit of plate armor donated by Tywin, several freshly sharpened steel weapons, a pile of dragonglass items, and some knick-knacks from the south—and announcing his name and titles, Egger and Jaime were received with a roaring welcome. These mountain folk were not as isolated as Egger had assumed. To his surprise, they had not only heard of his reputation as the "Other-Slayer," but could even recite Jaime's nickname. Most amusingly, the news that "the fellow who killed two kings" had arrived drew a crowd of curious youngsters.
The clan chief, Torghen "The Flint," personally hosted a feast for the visiting brothers. Egger had never eaten so much mountain game in his life. Only after they were full of meat and ale did he state his purpose.
"Over the past six months, the Flint clan has suffered multiple Wildling raids... Truth be told, we share a common enemy and are quite willing to help the Night's Watch."
Old Flint was remarkably blunt, showing no intention of refusal. The logic was simple: the Mountain Flints and the Umbers of Last Hearth were the two Houses closest to the Wall. If the Wall suffered a mishap, they would be the first to fall. They were crickets on the same string. "But Lord Ned's son went south to fight the Lions, and thirty of our braves went with him. There aren't many men left... if too many leave to help the Watch, we'll be in trouble when we're attacked ourselves."
It wasn't an excuse to avoid helping; the Flints truly needed armed force for protection. Not every Wildling crossing the Gorge into the south was an elite sent by Mance Rayder to strike the "Crows" at their keeps. Many were simply trying to flee the Others and the coming winter to stay alive.
In their trek south, lacking food and transport, they had little choice but to pillage along the way.
"That is indeed a problem," Egger said, pondering. "How many people are there in the Flint clan?"
"A thousand and more, maybe near two thousand. We haven't counted. The Flints are a large clan, but my people don't all live together. We are clustered in five villages of a few hundred each," Old Flint said. "How many men does the Wall need? if it's just a few dozen, I'll let you take your pick without a word. But any more, and I'm truly powerless."
A few dozen? Even if every one of the forty-plus clans provided a few dozen, it would be far from enough, let alone the smaller clans that only numbered a few hundred in total. "That won't suffice, my lord. I hope for as many as possible."
The clan chief shrugged. "I am sorry, my friend. Enough warriors must remain, or what shall I use to protect the old and the children when the Wildlings come to my home?"
Old Flint's attitude was already excellent. As a guest and friend, Egger could not make the unreasonable demand that he abandon his own people. The Wall needed defending, and the clan's vulnerable needed protection... He took a few sips of the clan's home-brewed ale, brooded for a moment, and suddenly struck the table: if the elders and children who needed protection were moved to the Wall that needed defending, wouldn't the problem solve itself?
"Lord Flint, if I proposed that your entire clan move out of the mountains to live in the Gift, right against the Wall, would you consider it?"
"Live in the Gift?" Old Flint had never considered the possibility. He blinked. "That would indeed kill two birds with one stone. But my clan lives off the mountains; we survive by gathering and hunting. We don't farm... if we move to the Gift, what will we eat?"
"You've likely forgotten that the man sitting before you is the Chief Logistics Officer of the Night's Watch—and my greatest talent is making money to keep people fed." Egger lifted his head, switching into his confident mode. "I make a solemn guarantee here: if even one member of your clan starves to death under the Watch's protection, I shall bring you my head!"
...
Egger had done a quick calculation: ignoring equipment and weapons, if he only provided enough food to prevent starvation, the entire Flint clan wouldn't cost a hundred gold dragons a month. Even if only a tenth of them could fight, the cost-effectiveness was infinitely higher than hiring sellswords. With Stannis in King's Landing and the Night's Watch industries running smoothly, he could afford it.
Money wasn't everything, but when your pockets were full, you truly could be this assertive!
It was the first time the clan chief had heard such a proposal. He scratched his head, glared at the murmuring clan members on either side, and for a moment didn't know how to respond.
Egger struck while the iron was hot, upping the stakes: "In addition to guaranteed food supplies, the Night's Watch will provide an abandoned fortress for the members of the Flint clan who relocate. With just a bit of cleaning and tidying, your people can spend the coming winter in sturdy, warm stone houses instead of relying on burrows to hide from the freezing winds!"
"Stone houses!"
Old Flint hadn't said much yet, but many of his younger kin were instantly excited. Many of the youths had visited Winterfell, the seat of their liege lord, and had long envied those tall, sturdy stone structures. To think that someone was now laying such an opportunity right in front of them!
Just as children in the countryside dream of moving to the city, what clan member didn't want to live in a stone house? The juniors attending the feast turned their eyes to the patriarch, itching for the old man to agree.
Old Flint had lived for over forty years; he wasn't going to be charmed by a single condition.
He had heard of Egger of the West's reputation. He didn't doubt the guarantee of such a celebrity and Night's Watch officer... and guaranteeing that not a single clan member would starve was a difficult feat in winter. It would be a lie to say he wasn't moved. However, in his youth, he had traveled the North and seen the lives of commoners everywhere. Because of the North's widespread tradition of stockpiling grain and establishing "winter towns," the proportion of farmers under Northern lords who froze or starved was indeed much smaller than among the mountain clans. Yet, during the mild and disaster-free Long Summer, the Flint clan—occupying a vast, resource-rich forest and living off hunting and gathering—actually enjoyed easier and more comfortable lives than most of the Seven Kingdoms' freeholders. To abandon such a vast territory for a stone fortress was a monumental decision he couldn't make so decisively.
Old Flint tapped the table with his bright red, rough, sausage-like fingers, saying hesitantly, "Chief Logistics Officer, I believe your promise. But if my clan moves out of the mountains and our territory is occupied by Wildlings or other neighboring clans, what then?"
...
Coming to the North after a year of scuffling in King's Landing, the people Egger encountered were so blunt they were almost adorable. He didn't need half a second to hear the subtext: they wanted the stone houses and winter food, but they didn't want to give up the mountains they had inhabited for generations.
It was a reasonable desire, not even particularly greedy. Egger gritted his teeth and continued to issue promissory notes: "You can leave one village's worth of people to watch over your lands. If anyone else occupies your territory while you are out helping the Watch, then when the war ends, the Night's Watch will be your steadfast backup. We will intercede—even send troops... at any cost, to defend your ownership of these lands!"
"Isn't the Night's Watch supposed to be impartial?"
"The Night's Watch is indeed impartial, but the Night's Watch industries are not." Egger said without hesitation. "To put it bluntly, damaging the interests of the Watch's allies is damaging the interests of the Watch... If someone bullies you, where is the talk of impartiality?"
With one side flush with cash and the other making no excessive demands, the negotiation went smoother than imagined. Every issue was resolved, and a smile broke across Old Flint's face. "The Chief Logistics Officer is a truly honest man. If that's the case, my answer is simple: I'll leave a hundred men to watch the lands, and the rest will leave the mountains to move into the fortress provided by the Watch. In the coming war against the Wildlings or whatever other devils, we shall stand and fall with the Night's Watch!"
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