Talking with a wise old man is always worthwhile.
Lynn had to admit he'd been thinking too simply before this.
He had believed that laying out the facts, making a logical argument, and offering enough benefits would be enough to get ordinary people to fight for him.
Looking back now, even with the wildlings already treating him as their savior, he couldn't even get them to march in proper columns.
In Westeros—a land no different from medieval Europe—the smallfolk had been conditioned for thousands of years. Weakness and obedience ran bone-deep.
As an outsider, trying to win their loyalty away from the lords their families had served for generations would be far harder than he had imagined.
Just as Aemon had said, a single rumor could make them avoid this so-called "Guardian" like the plague. Simply coming from beyond the Wall was enough to terrify everyone south of it.
The southerners had forgotten that the Free Folk weren't natural enemies—they were simply humans who had the bad luck to be left on the wrong side. A thousand years of isolation and demonization, plus the brutality of a few raiders, had turned all wildlings into monsters in southern eyes.
"So in the end, the only way to talk to them is through conquest?" Lynn muttered. The words were half question to Aemon, half to himself.
When Lynn left the rookery, which reeked of bird droppings, the ravens were already being released one by one behind him.
He left the remaining letters with Maester Aemon. With Samwell's help, the old maester would check which southern lords still had ravens in the rookery and send them out.
Since Lynn had no personal sigil or banner yet, Aemon suggested sending the letters in the name of the Night's Watch. Lynn had no objection.
Outside the rookery, Castle Black had turned into a massive construction site. Giants, Thenns, and clan fighters had already thrown up a mixed earth-and-timber wall in less than a day.
In this weather, mud frozen with water was nearly as hard as stone.
Mance still wasn't satisfied. He planned to make the wall taller and thicker and add towers, turning Castle Black into a real fortress.
On the other side of the tunnel, more Free Folk were cutting timber and building camps to receive the huge main host still coming.
Right now only Castle Black and Shadow Tower had open tunnels connecting both sides of the Wall. The other abandoned castles had their tunnels filled in when they were deserted, and Eastwatch had always relied on ships to sail around the Bay of Seals.
Whether Shadow Tower would surrender or fight was still unknown, and digging out the blocked tunnels would take too long. So the rest of the Free Folk would have to cross through the Castle Black tunnel.
Thankfully, moving a hundred thousand people through wouldn't take long.
Lynn had noticed during visits to large tourist sites back home that many places could handle hundreds of thousands of visitors in a single day. Factoring in fewer entrances and the wildlings' lack of order, he figured ten days should be more than enough.
The harder problem was what came after—settling them.
Mance's plan was to spread the Free Folk out according to clan size, placing them in the abandoned castles along the Wall. Many deserted farmsteads and tower houses on the Gift could be used as well.
Even though the castles had stood empty for a hundred years or more, a lot of the stone buildings were still sound. The rotten wooden towers had solid foundations that could be rebuilt. Housing the Free Folk wouldn't be difficult.
But the food problem had to be solved. If it wasn't, the wildlings would inevitably cross the Gift and raid Northern villages for supplies.
Hungry people have no reason. Death and destruction would follow.
And that kind of destruction wasn't temporary. It would destroy not only lives, homes, and fields, but also people's faith in the land itself—something that could take generations to rebuild.
The most dangerous part was that people wouldn't wait until the food actually ran out. The moment their stores dropped below a certain point, panic would set in and they would start looking for solutions on their own.
No matter how carefully the Free Folk rationed, Lynn figured he had three months at most.
He found Mance on top of the Wall.
For safety he had skipped the faster iron cage lift and taken the wooden stairs instead. He simply didn't trust this world's engineering enough.
The heavy timber stairs, driven deep into the ice and frozen solid, felt far more reliable.
Eighty Thenn warriors stood guard along the top, watching for any threat from Shadow Tower or Eastwatch.
He and Mance finally had a rare quiet moment. They stood side by side looking north. The view from up here was different from what Lynn had seen while riding the dragon.
He was sure that when he had entered the Wall at dawn, the forest hadn't been this thin. In less than a single day, the haunted woods directly in front of the tunnel mouth had been hacked down like melted fat.
Hundreds of clan fighters swarmed below like ants, hauling timber back and forth.
Having finally taken the Wall that had kept them out for thousands of years, the Free Folk were filled with a sense of achievement they had never known. They worked with frightening energy and speed.
They had already built a huge camp around the tunnel entrance. It was still rough, but you could already see what it would become.
"It's been ten years since I last stood up here," Mance said, voice thick with emotion.
"Who could have guessed that one day I would lead the wildlings in taking the very Wall I once swore to defend with my life?"
"Fate loves making people run in circles," Lynn replied absently. He narrowed his eyes toward the gray-black horizon.
"How long until the main host arrives?"
"At least another seven or eight days," Mance shrugged. "I sent Harma herself with the news. Victory should put some speed in their legs."
Lynn drew in a deep breath of cold air. He knew the real test was only beginning.
If things turned out the way Aemon feared and they couldn't win the support of the common people of the Seven Kingdoms, then conquest would be the only path left.
"When do we move on Eastwatch?" Lynn asked. That concerned getting the dragon and the mammoths across the Wall.
Mance grinned.
"Too many things happening—I forgot to tell you. The sailors somehow got word and sailed off. They emptied the storerooms and armory before they left. Tormund's been cursing Carter Pyke, calling him the spawn of a squid from the sea."
(Carter Pyke was the commander of Eastwatch. His surname "Pyke" marked him as a bastard from the Iron Islands, which was why Tormund called him a squid's son.)
Note on Westerosi Bastard Names:
In Westeros, a bastard's surname is not based on the father but on the region where they were born or raised.
This custom mainly applies to bastards who have at least one noble parent. If both parents are commoners, the child usually has no special surname.
Each of the Seven Kingdoms has its own bastard surname:
- The North: Snow (because of the constant snow and ice)
- Dorne: Sand (from the deserts)
- The Riverlands: Rivers (from the many rivers)
- The Vale: Stone (from the stony mountain valleys)
- The Westerlands: Hill (from the rolling hills)
- The Iron Islands: Pyke (named after the main island)
- The Reach: Flowers (from the fertile, flower-filled lands)
- The Stormlands: Storm (from the constant storms)
- The Crownlands: Waters (from the waters around King's Landing and Blackwater Bay)
(Example: Jon should technically be Jon Sand because he was born in Dorne at the Tower of Joy, but he was raised in the North and is known as Jon Snow. Ramsay was Snow until he was legitimized.)