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Eastwatch's black brothers had fled. To Lynn this was very bad news.
Their original plan had been to hit the docks by surprise, seize the ships, and ferry the woolly mammoths across the Bay of Seals.
The wildlings had no shipbuilding skills—they could only lash together crude rafts. Even if they built giant rafts strong enough to carry a mammoth, there was no guarantee the beasts would actually step aboard. And the rafts could easily flip in the rough waters of the bay or be attacked halfway across by Night's Watch warships.
Yet they could not abandon the giant elephants. They were a vital part of the future battle plan—the perfect counter to massed cavalry charges.
Unfortunately, Mance had promised the giants he would not send them into battle unless it was absolutely necessary. The giants were already nearly extinct; any needless losses were unacceptable.
Another annoying detail: although woolly mammoths were enormous, they were surprisingly timid. They feared fire, pain, and loud noises. Lynn was already doubting how useful they would actually be on a battlefield, but Mance assured him the giants had a certain herb that could drive the mammoths into a battle frenzy—though it was risky, hard to control, and could easily lead to friendly fire.
In the end they settled on two options: hire smugglers' ships or widen the Castle Black tunnel.
The former was unreliable—smugglers came and went on their own schedule, and their vessels might not even be large enough. The latter would take too much time and destroy the tunnel's original defensive features.
There were plenty of other headaches, including the disastrous losses among the raider bands.
Individually they were excellent fighters, but they had wasted themselves in a needless head-on fight with the Night's Watch. Mance was almost ready to have the Weeper killed for it.
But the wildlings had no laws. Even though the chiefs had publicly sworn to follow Lynn, he still had no legal right to execute them.
That was the price of freedom.
That night Lynn finally took his first real bath since crossing over, in the castle's bathhouse. Afterward he returned outside.
He did not claim a comfortable room in one of the stone towers with its warm hearth. He chose to sleep beside the dragon.
The dragon was his greatest asset right now; no amount of caution was too much. It had its own tent, a stone brazier, and Thenn soldiers standing watch in shifts.
Dinner was the usual mutton. This time Lynn deliberately shared half a sheep with Weeping Blood.
Now that he realized the coming war would not go as he had planned, Lynn began deliberately strengthening the bond with his dragon.
Until now he had treated it more like a pet than a weapon of war. Their relationship had been based purely on affection and casual companionship.
Now…
Lynn knew he was not of dragonlord blood. There was no magical blood-bond between him and the dragon.
While he could control the dragon through his skinchanger ability, there was no guarantee that once the beast grew larger or entered some rebellious phase the link would hold.
So while it was still small, building a real emotional bond was the smart move.
Staring at the half-burned, half-bloody mutton in his hand, Lynn frowned and chewed.
Weeping Blood was far less picky. It tore off a whole rib, crunched bone and meat together, and swallowed it in a few bites. Every so often it glanced at Lynn.
Lynn suddenly felt a chill. This little bastard isn't food-protective, is he?
---
On the third day after taking Castle Black, Lynn was woken from sleep by Nymo.
The boy had scavenged a mismatched, rusty suit of knight's plate from the armory. It looked ridiculous on him, but he clearly felt magnificent and strutted about more proudly than ever.
After the castle fell he had resumed his role as Lynn's personal guard.
Nymo brought two letters and a short note.
The note was from Maester Aemon. All the letters had been sent. The two replies were from Last Hearth and Shadow Tower.
Given travel time, they were right on schedule.
Lynn opened the Shadow Tower letter first.
The contents were somewhat unexpected. Ser Denys Mallister, commander of Shadow Tower, invited Lynn to meet at the ruins of the Nightfort in two days' time at noon. He was willing to negotiate on behalf of the remaining men of the Night's Watch.
Lynn had not expected them to surrender outright, but he also had not planned to go to them first.
In truth, all of the Watch's supplies came up the kingsroad to Castle Black and were then distributed by wagon to Shadow Tower and Eastwatch. Lynn had already checked the records. Shadow Tower now held roughly three hundred men, including the survivors from Castle Black. Their current supplies would last them at most ten more days.
Eastwatch was on the sea and had ships; if food ran short they could fish or hunt seals. Shadow Tower had no such option. Hunting in the forest would never make up the difference. They could not close the gap.
Even if the Free Folk did nothing, Shadow Tower would collapse on its own within half a month. That was why Mance had always focused on Castle Black rather than the castle he knew better—Shadow Tower.
But since they were asking to negotiate, it meant Qhorin's mission had already borne fruit.
Lynn wrote a reply on the spot: if they wished to talk, they should come to Castle Black themselves, and they must guarantee Qhorin's safety.
That done, he opened the letter from Last Hearth.
Mors Umber's tone was considerably less polite than Ser Denys's.
He first thanked Lynn for returning his daughter and granddaughter and promised not to pursue the escort soldiers.
Then he stated bluntly that Last Hearth would not spare a single grain for "wild dogs from beyond the Wall."
Not only would there be no food, he would call upon every Northern house to form a host and crush Lynn—just as they had crushed every so-called King-Beyond-the-Wall in history—along with this ridiculous "Guardian of All Living Beings in Westeros."
However, since Lynn had not taken his family hostage, "Crowfood" was generous enough to offer Lynn a chance to surrender.
All he had to do was hand back Castle Black and order the wildlings to return beyond the Wall. In exchange, Lynn could keep his life.
As for tales of the Others, he did not believe a word of it. He saw it only as a trick by the wildling king to frighten people.
Lynn was not overly surprised by the reply. Last Hearth stood closest to the Wall. Throughout history it had killed the most wildlings and suffered the most from raids.
But one thing disappointed him deeply.
Even the northernmost lord in Westeros refused to believe the Others had returned. If that was the case, the southern lords were even less likely to listen.
Everything pointed to Maester Aemon being right.