For the first time in thousands of years, a real army marched into the tunnel as conquerors.
Lynn walked beside Kassa and asked about casualties. The Thenn just shrugged.
"They weren't crows—just a bunch of clucking little chickens. One or two might've had some fight in them, but they were still chickens."
Pure Thenn arrogance, and completely accurate. The Thenns had lived for generations in their remote northern valleys and had almost no blood feud with the Night's Watch. Once the black brothers surrendered, the Thenns saw no reason for more slaughter. Live prisoners earned double merit.
Lynn nodded and started thinking ahead. First priority: build solid defenses facing south to guard against any counterattack from the Northern lords.
When he asked Maester Aemon about it, the old man dropped several pieces of unexpected news.
Balon Greyjoy of the Iron Islands had sent longships to raid the North instead of Lannisport, throwing the entire region into chaos.
The Night's Watch had sent ravens begging for help from every lord, but none came. Their armies were too busy killing each other.
Theon Greyjoy had seized Winterfell in his father's name, executed the two young Stark boys left behind, and declared himself Prince of Winterfell. When the Stark bannermen came to retake the castle, he burned it to the ground.
Ramsay Snow, the bastard son of Roose Bolton, had then stormed the ruins, killed every ironborn, and—according to rumor—flayed Theon Greyjoy alive, inch by inch, as punishment.
By the time they stepped out of the tunnel, Lynn had a clear picture of the current mess.
A few Stark loyalists had scraped together two thousand men to retake Winterfell, but they were wiped out in battle against the ironborn (in truth, they were ambushed by the men of the Dreadfort).
Deepwood Motte of House Glover and Torrhen's Square of House Tallhart had both fallen to the ironborn. Even worse, the ironborn now held Moat Cailin—the ancient choke point that guarded the only safe road north and south.
That meant the main Northern army, which had marched south with Robb Stark, could not return home. Moat Cailin had never been taken from the south in thousands of years.
Winterfell, seat of the King in the North, lay in ruins. The two castles closest to the Wall—Last Hearth and Karhold—had sent most of their fighting men south with the main host.
All of this was far better than Lynn or Mance had dared hope. The military pressure the Free Folk would face had just been cut by at least two-thirds.
At first light the Thenns had complete control of Castle Black. Their first order of business was looting the armory.
They found five or six hundred good steel swords, two hundred suits of mail in varying condition, and a scattering of rusted or damaged helmets and plate—gear left behind by knights who had taken the black.
Plate armor was useless on the Wall or against wildlings; mail was more than enough. They also took steel axes, spears, over a hundred fine yew longbows, and more than twenty crossbows. All of it went to arming the Thenns.
This had been agreed upon beforehand: the Thenns got first pick of the spoils, and Kassa would divide everything according to merit.
The clan fighters hauled large amounts of fresh timber down from the north side of the Wall to build defensive works.
Even though the North was weaker than Mance had expected because of the ironborn raids, they still had to prepare.
Using the castle's existing wooden towers and stone keeps as anchors, they quickly enclosed a large area, dug trenches, planted stakes, and raised double wooden walls. They packed earth between the layers and poured melted snow and water over it all, letting the freezing cold turn the whole thing into a solid frozen rampart.
The giants came through the tunnel to help, but the woolly mammoths were too big to fit. Unless they widened the tunnel—a massive job—the mammoths would have to sail around by ship from Eastwatch.
Mance sent Harma's cavalry riding out along the Wall to call in all the raider bands that had been conducting feints. They were to regroup at Castle Black.
The riders didn't find anyone at first. Then they ran into Morna the warrior witch and the few surviving members of her band, all of them badly wounded. That was when they learned what had gone wrong.
The Weeper, still furious that Mance had given the main assault on Castle Black to Jarl and the Thenns, had decided to prove his worth. After raiding Queen's Gate he moved west along the Wall, gathering the Bone Lord, Sorren, and Morna for a full-scale attack on Shadow Tower.
He believed the Shadow Tower, now missing Qhorin Halfhand and over a hundred rangers, was weak enough to take easily.
He was wrong. He ran straight into Bowen Marsh—the Lord Steward and acting Lord Commander—who had marched from Castle Black with reinforcements. Roughly three hundred men on each side clashed at the Bridge of Skulls. The Night's Watch lost nearly a hundred men but shattered the raider force. The wildling leaders scattered with whatever survivors they could gather.
(As in the original books—the Battle of the Bridge of Skulls at Shadow Tower.)
When Mance heard the news he was furious. A near-perfect victory had been ruined by undisciplined raiders throwing themselves into a bloody, unnecessary fight and losing valuable fighters.
They could have simply marched the main host through the tunnel and taken Shadow Tower from the south without a battle.
Of course, they would still need to send envoys first. That was exactly what Qhorin Halfhand had prepared for.
He insisted on going alone, unarmed.
Most of the Free Folk didn't believe he could talk several hundred crows into surrendering. They were certain he would be cut down the moment he opened his mouth.
Lynn shared their worry. Originally Qhorin only needed to convince the hundred-odd men left at Shadow Tower. Now he faced an extra two hundred battered survivors fresh from a hard fight. The difficulty had jumped several levels.
But he knew Qhorin had to go. This was the entire point of the ranger's surrender. So Lynn didn't stop him.
Once Qhorin rode off, Kuna and Lyanna were also ready.
A company of Thenns equipped with new mail, steel swords, and crossbows would escort them safely to Last Hearth. What happened after that was in the hands of the gods.
Lynn desperately needed food—lots of it.
He knew the farther north you went, the less the land produced. Last Hearth wouldn't be able to offer much in real supplies, but the symbolic value was still important.
If he could convince House Umber to pay the Guardian's Tax to the Wall, it would give him the first thread of legitimacy. It would open a crack in the armor of the Westerosi nobility that he could later widen.
Kuna knelt before Lynn in front of the Free Folk and swore that even if her father refused to pay the tax, she and Lyanna would return to the Wall. She would not cling to the comforts of a castle.
Lynn watched them ride south, then immediately went to inspect the castle's food stores.
A labyrinth of tunnels called the wormways connected all the buildings of Castle Black underground. They were dark, depressing, and rarely used in summer.
But in winter, when deep snow covered everything and there weren't enough hands to clear it, the tunnels became the fastest way to move around the castle.
Maester Aemon insisted on guiding him personally. With the Lord Steward Bowen Marsh gone, only the old maester truly knew what they had in storage.
Chapter 46: Chaos in the North
Author's Note (This chapter was split because the word count was too short)
Some of you might have issues with the last chapter because Castle Black fell way too easily. Fair point—I'll explain exactly why it went down like that.
In the original books, the Thenns who attacked Castle Black numbered only about 120, and several died just climbing the Wall. On top of that, Jon Snow escaped on horseback halfway through (with Summer the direwolf helping him kill a few Thenns) and gave the castle a full two-day warning. That let the Night's Watch prepare properly and even drag in villagers and whores from Mole's Town to help defend.
In this story I bumped the Thenn force up to 200. More importantly, the main wildling army outside the Wall drew almost every defender up onto the ice itself. (In the books Mance arrived late, so defending the castle and defending the Wall were two separate fights. The show combined them into one.) That created a perfect surprise attack against an unprepared garrison.
Here's how the numbers stack up:
Canon version:
Roughly 40+ black brothers plus 20–30 villagers (including the whores), all behind prepared defenses and fire traps that killed a ton of Thenns… versus just over 100 Thenns.
This version:
200 disciplined, battle-ready Thenn soldiers… versus a dozen or so brand-new recruits who had zero warning. Their strongest fighter, Donal Noye, got trapped in the iron cage and captured right at the start.
So an easy victory was the realistic outcome.
In the original books, the only reason the Thenns didn't overrun the place was Mance's dumb decision to let Jon go with the wildlings, which let the kid escape and sound the alarm. Without that warning, Castle Black still would've fallen.
Here's the relevant passage straight from A Storm of Swords, Jon's chapter, for reference:
> Every day after the march, the Magnar called him over with sharp, clever questions about Castle Black—its garrison and its defenses.
> Jon lied where he dared, pretended ignorance elsewhere, but Grigg the Goat and Errok were right there and knew enough to keep him careful.
> Too obvious a lie would give the game away.
> The truth was grim. Aside from the Wall itself, Castle Black had no defenses—no palisade, no ditch, not even an earthen rampart. The so-called "castle" was nothing but a cluster of wooden towers and stone keeps, two-thirds of them collapsing or ruined. As for the garrison, the Old Bear had taken two hundred men on the ranging.
> How many had returned? Jon had no way of knowing. Perhaps four hundred remained, most of them stewards, builders, and boys still in training, not rangers.
> The Thenns were hard fighters, more disciplined than most wildlings—and that was exactly why Mance had chosen them.
> Against them stood blind Maester Aemon, half-blind steward Clydas, one-armed Donal Noye, drunken Septon Cellador, deaf Dick Follard, "Three-Finger" Hobb, old Ser Wynton Stout, and the boys who had trained with Jon—Hake, Toad, Pyp, Aemon, and the rest. Their commander was the fat, red-faced Lord Steward Bowen Marsh, acting castellan while Lord Commander Mormont was away.
> Edd the Mourner had given Marsh a nickname: "the Old Pomegranate."
> "One day when you're in proper battle you'll be glad to have him," Edd said in his usual gloomy voice. "He'll count the enemy for you. He's a living abacus."
> If the Magnar took them by surprise, it would be a slaughter. The boys would die in their beds before they even knew what was happening.
That's why, in this version, the Thenns rolled right over the place. No warning, no prepared defenses, and the best fighter on the Wall got bagged in a cage before he could do anything.