Besides the main forces, Lynn had also recruited some special units—about a hundred Nightrunner archers and several hundred Hardfoot scouts.
The Nightrunners were all lean and wiry. In daylight their combat ability was average, but at night they became the most terrifying hunters. There was no helping it—night vision was simply too broken a skill.
Compared to their bitter rivals, the Hardfoots' strength lay in their toughness, cold resistance, and quick, agile movement.
Lynn had equipped the Hardfoots with white antelope raised by Morna's tribe. The beasts were fast and nimble. While the Hardfoots weren't much use in a stand-up fight, they made excellent scouts and could harass the enemy when needed.
Harma had reorganized her cavalry. She'd found several dozen well-trained warhorses in Castle Black's stables to replace losses from the fighting.
To reward Harma and her brother for their bravery, Lynn generously issued forty full suits of knight's plate, sixty half-suits, and matching horse barding. He also gave each rider two mounts—one for riding, one for charging.
Cavalry could save lives at critical moments. Lynn knew that from experience, so he didn't mind the expense.
If the Free Folk hadn't been so short on horses, he would have given every rider a pack horse as well.
Plate armor that once only knights wore now sat openly on wildlings—many pieces still engraved with noble house sigils. The sight was almost comical.
---
Once the major decisions shaping the future political map were settled, Lynn felt quite satisfied.
The events of the day were solid enough to serve as the foundation of a new dynasty.
If he could also capture Stannis alive, it would be perfect.
Lynn couldn't help wanting more.
He ran through every possible fate for Stannis and reached a conclusion:
Stannis would either come to the Wall and surrender, or starve to death in the wilds after losing his supplies.
The worst outcome would be running into the Others and being swallowed by an army of the dead.
The only remaining chance to save himself was Carter Pyke's few remaining ships.
According to Tormund's latest letter (dictated by him, written by Sam), there had been no sign of Night's Watch crews among the ships at Hardhome.
The Watch's ships were old and slow, with limited capacity. Even if Stannis abandoned all his horses, Carter Pyke could take at most two or three hundred men per trip.
And that assumed the two sides even managed to meet.
With that hope in mind, Lynn set out the next day with the giants and their hundred-plus woolly mammoths, Harma's full complement of a hundred cavalry, and his dragon, riding east along the Wall toward Eastwatch.
Moving the woolly mammoths had finally become a priority. Lynn hoped the captured Lysene warships could handle their weight.
According to Tormund's estimate, the captured fleet would reach Eastwatch tomorrow. If the mammoths moved quickly, they could arrive the day after.
Castle Black and Eastwatch were roughly two hundred kilometers apart. Marching on foot would slow everything down, so this time everyone was mounted. Lynn left his Royal Guard behind.
A hundred-plus giants and woolly mammoths made an intimidating sight. Harma's cavalry looked like toys beside them.
Unfortunately the mammoths were timid, and the giants had no idea how to train them properly.
Otherwise a hundred armored giant-riders charging in formation would be unstoppable. The enemy's only choice would be to turn and run.
Lynn remembered the song "The Last of the Giants" that Ygritte and Tormund had sung during the march to the Fist of the First Men.
Giants had once lived in every corner of the world, but now only a few hundred remained.
No wonder Ygritte had wept and even Tormund had wiped his eyes.
Who could bear to force them onto the battlefield under these conditions?
Lynn sang the first line from memory:
"Ahhhhhhhhh~
I am the last of the giants,
I have no one left~~~"
Harma and her brother immediately joined in without thinking. The song had become instinct among the Free Folk.
Then the rest of the cavalry picked it up—veterans and new recruits alike, all in full armor, voices strong.
But when it came to sheer volume, the giants still won.
They sang the ancient song in deep, resonant tones that completely drowned out the smaller folk and even shook loose ice from the towering Wall above them.
Lynn quickly waved everyone farther from the ice, afraid a chunk might break off and crush someone.
When the giants' thunderous singing finally ended, Lynn's entire body was still buzzing. He immediately regretted starting the song.
But the giants looked energized. Instead of growing sad at the lyrics, they picked up the pace.
Huh. So what was Ygritte crying about back then?
Lynn shook his head with a wry smile and spurred his horse to catch up.
When the woolly mammoths ran, the ground shook. They looked slow, but their long legs covered ground fast—one stride equaled three or four horse steps.
They kept that steady trot for an hour until they reached the Long Barrow.
Night was falling, so they began setting up camp.
Because ice constantly fell from the Wall, they pitched the tents more than a hundred yards away—far enough to avoid falling chunks, but close enough to watch the forest and still have warning time.
Weeping Blood curled up at the edge of the camp. That was as close to the Wall as he was willing to go. Any closer and he refused to move.
In the old days the black brothers had come out every day with axes to cut back any trees that grew too close, never allowing the forest within half a mile of the Wall's north side. They didn't want wildlings sneaking up.
But once manpower grew short, that job had been neglected. Now the trees nearly reached the base of the ice.
As king, Lynn was spared night watch duty.
He ate dinner with the cavalry, then crawled into his small tent to rest. Weeping Blood curled up beside him as usual.
After riding all day, Lynn was tired and fell asleep quickly.
Since arriving in this world he'd lost almost every form of entertainment, so he'd quickly fallen into an early-to-bed, early-to-rise routine that had noticeably improved his fitness.
Around dawn, Weeping Blood's low growl woke him.
It was Hark.
The man stood outside the tent and reported that sentries had spotted several warhorses in the forest.
Lynn was instantly alert.
Warhorses were easy to identify—they were almost always gelded stallions.
To avoid the problems that came with stallions in heat, armies routinely castrated any male horse not kept for breeding. Geldings were calmer, had better endurance, and were better suited for long marches and combat.
Beyond the Wall the Free Folk never gelded their horses, so these animals almost certainly belonged to either the Night's Watch or Stannis's army.