Chapter 335: Ice Canyon Port
A weirwood forest?
Egger leaned out over the Great Canyon once more, and sure enough, dots of deep crimson filled his vision. The recent blizzard had draped the North and the Gift in a shroud of silver, and with the grip of winter stripping the vitality from the land, he had initially mistaken the color for the dark hue of withered wood beneath the snow. Looking closer now, he realized that along both banks of the Milkwater at the valley floor and across the steep slopes of the canyon... as far as the eye could see, the mountainsides were covered in the blood-red leaves unique to weirwoods, so vibrant that even the snow could not fully mask them.
Could it be that Brandon the Builder, seeing the terrain of the Great Canyon was unsuitable for an ice wall, had simply opted for a massive planting of weirwoods as compensation to stop enemies from exploiting this gap?
It sounded far-fetched.
From the information gathered so far, the Wall did indeed possess an energy field capable of weakening and repelling White Walkers and wights—one might call it an Anti-Great Other Ward. If this power truly derived from weirwoods, then this staggering forest might indeed serve as the defensive weak point's patch where the Wall did not reach.
But a question arose: if a weirwood forest could permanently stop the Others from passing, why build the Wall at all? Wouldn't planting the entirety of the Haunted Forest with weirwoods be simpler than raising a seven-hundred-foot wall of ice?
One might be tempted to curse: Brandon the Builder was a fool to miss that!
Egger had only encountered one person who wielded supernatural power face-to-face: Melisandre. However, even though the two had shared a bed, the priestess remained secretive regarding magic, never displaying or explaining it casually. Fortunately, while she didn't speak, Egger could judge based on various signs. Through their long periods together and a few brief exchanges, he sensed that even magic had to follow laws akin to thermodynamics.
Weirwoods themselves could not generate energy; otherwise, the whole world would be planted with these perpetual motion machines. It could be inferred that they weren't the source of power themselves, but rather the carriers and release channels—much like an antenna. It transmits a signal, but the signal itself is generated by the equipment it's connected to, converted from electrical energy.
The giant heart tree beneath the Nightfort was protected by the physical mass of the Wall's ice, but what about this vast forest? If Egger were one of the Others, he would surely send the dead to destroy and consume it bit by bit. What defense could a tree offer? Unless its ward was strong enough to outright kill approaching wights and White Walkers, it remained destructible.
"Don't pin our hopes of fighting the Others on trees. We are the shield that guards the realms of men, not the weirwoods." Although the sprawling growth was an encouraging sight, and God knew how many centuries they had stood there, Egger shook his head. "Don't let your guard down. Continue the scheduled patrols and begin identifying a suitable spot for the transit outpost."
"Naturally," Qhorin agreed completely.
As the miles piled up beneath their feet, the group soon succumbed to the exhaustion of long-distance trekking. Conversation dwindled and then ceased entirely. Having played the leader for so long, Egger found the sudden return to the hardships of a common soldier's patrol a bit difficult to adjust to. Luckily, the weather remained clear and the wind weak; if viewed as exercise, it wasn't too terrible. Setting out at the break of dawn and pausing briefly at noon for a bite to eat, they kept their heads down and pushed on. With a final sprint as the sun dipped toward the horizon, they finally reached their destination before nightfall.
It was a temporary camp with no formal structures yet, selected by the scouting team as the site for the new base, just a few miles from the Bay of Ice.
A few tents of varying sizes were pitched behind a massive windbreaking rock. Seven or eight men of the Night's Watch advance party were scattered about, resting or cooking dinner over a campfire. They hadn't even met the new Lord Commander before; after Qhorin Halfhand introduced him, they quickly scrambled to their feet to salute their officer.
"Lord Commander, you've been on the road all day. Shall we rest immediately, or take a look at the port site before the light fails?"
Egger looked up. The sky hadn't completely darkened yet. Though his legs were leaden after a day of walking, he eventually sighed. For a man at the helm, rest was a luxury.
"Let's go see the site. If all goes well, we'll head back via the main road tomorrow."
"Understood."
Qhorin had been a ranger for many years; walking a few dozen miles wouldn't break him. He set down his light pack, stretched his limbs, and briskly led the way down from the highlands.
This mountainous area on the southern side of the Great Canyon, located in the western Gift, was geologically an extension of the Frostfangs. But it was only an extension, hundreds of miles from the main peaks and the highest elevations of the lands beyond the Wall. As Egger traveled this day, the terrain and roads had become increasingly level and wide after the halfway point. Initially, the group walked along the mountainside—a mountain hundreds of meters high on the left and a steep canyon on the right—but soon the peaks grew lower and the cliff slopes gentler. By the end, they were strolling across a dirt slope only slightly higher than the river valley.
The temporary camp sat at the end of this gentle slope, on a rocky clearing at an altitude of several dozen meters overlooking the Bay of Ice.
The sun had fully sunk beneath the waves, but the sky remained dim and translucent. The towering mountains on the northern bank of the river valley stood dark against the residual light, looking like a high wall. Amidst the light rhythmic splashing of waves hitting the shore, the cold sea breeze brought a hint of salt and brine. Qhorin led Egger down from the camp's high ground to the shore bordering the Bay of Ice.
The Milkwater had a very low silt content, meaning its efficiency in land reclamation was abysmal. Consequently, the view of the estuary had remained unchanged for years, even washing out a stretch of beach that looked crystalline and white from a distance—striking enough to seem as if it were glowing in the twilight. If not for the northern latitude, this white beach would have been a fine vacation spot in the summer.
Currently, it was barren. The scenery likely hadn't changed in a thousand years. The suddenly broadened horizon and increased wind speed took Egger, who had spent most of his day on mountain paths, a moment to get used to.
"This beach extends right into the sea, and the part exposed at low tide has no reefs, making it an ideal launch site for new ships," Qhorin explained as they walked above the beach. "Half a league to the south, a point of land juts out into the water. It's hard to see clearly in this light, but that point forms a natural breakwater. It keeps the waves very small outside this beach, forming a little natural harbor. Most importantly, the base of that jutting point is solid rock, not silt, and it's high enough to stay above water even at high tide. If necessary, a fort and a lighthouse can be built there to defend against enemies from the sea and guide our own ships. It saves us a great deal of work in land reclamation and dock building."
"That's quite a detailed assessment. Were you born to a family of sailors?"
"Bollocks to that. The lad sitting over there roasting beef said it; he's a bastard from the Iron Islands." Qhorin laughed, not taking credit where it wasn't due. "Want to head over and see?"
"Yes, let's take a look."
It was high tide. Egger stepped onto the moss and shells of the outcrop, standing at the edge to watch the waves lap against the breakwater.
The natural breakwater adjoining the white beach was a sharp triangle, extending about a mile into the sea. Truthfully, it was a bit small, but considering they were building a temporary military port in a primitive world—one that only needed to harbor wooden ships with double-digit displacement—it was largely sufficient.
Without direct sunlight, he couldn't see the bottom, but as long as the depth exceeded three meters at low tide, it could accommodate most ships in Westeros smaller than mid-sized.
Egger asked, "What's the water depth near the shore?"
"Not sure, but we didn't see the bottom even at low tide."
"I'll arrange for a team to come out and level the upper layer of this breakwater as soon as possible, and we'll build a coastal fort and lighthouse at the very end to overlook the harbor. But whether we use this shore as a dock for ships depends on the depth." Egger shook his head. "I don't like 'not sure' for an answer. Borrow a small boat from the mountain clan fishermen and conduct a grid survey of the depths along this stretch, especially inside this little bay. We start building the port only after we confirm it's usable."
"Yes, my Lord." As for the Lord Commander's orders, Qhorin obeyed without question.
Egger surveyed the surroundings. The jagged terrain of the west coast had inadvertently created such a natural harbor. Though a bit small, and with the depth yet to be measured and the extent of man-made docks yet to be determined, at least it wasn't a bad start.
"The broad layout is set. This side facing the beach will be the shipyard, and that side will be for docking. This is the military port we are building for the North; nominally, the usage rights belong to Robb Stark. If the Warden of the North has any requests, we satisfy them all—he's footing the bill anyway. As for the Night's Watch outpost, that high ground is perfect. Build a wall and a fort to overlook the whole harbor. In peacetime, it'll be the garrison for the patrols, and if the harbor is attacked, the Watchmen there can serve as the port's defenders. It's perfect."
"Sounds good indeed." Qhorin rubbed the stubble on his chin. "What shall we call this place? We can't keep calling it the 'temporary outpost' forever."
"What shall we call it?" Egger had forgotten about that. Facing the cold sea breeze that chilled his cheeks, he looked around, and a name soon jumped into his mind. "Facing the Bay of Ice, right next to the Great Canyon, and a port for the Northern navy... let's not get fancy. We'll call it Ice Canyon Port."
It was a good name, concise and direct about its location and function. Qhorin nodded. "Alright. Ice Canyon Port it is."
Having seen what needed to be seen and clarified his vision, Egger turned to lead Qhorin and his guards back to the mainland as the sky turned pitch black. As they walked toward the camp, he looked toward the dark mountains to the east.
He hadn't forgotten the other purpose of his trip.
"You mentioned earlier there's a main road back to the Gift. Can it accommodate cavalry and wagons?"
"Yes. There are many mountains here, but none are high, and the road follows the low points between them. The clansmen often go to the Gift to trade with the Watch, and their goods include live livestock. With a little leveling and widening, passing smaller wagons won't be a problem."
"Good. For the specific planning of the port, let the head of the construction department discuss it with the experts from White Harbor when they arrive and show me the results." Egger nodded. "Tomorrow, we have another task—somewhere along that main road back to the Gift, find a spot that is wide, flat, and far from the sea or any other clan settlements. I have a special use for it."
"A special use?" Qhorin was confused. "Is it for the patrol transit station you mentioned during the day? But that needs to be on the patrol route to be useful, and there's a mountain between the main road and the canyon."
"It's not a patrol station; it's a testing ground. I've had some... weapons specifically designed to deal with the White Walkers, and I need a place far from people to test them."
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