Chereads / Legacy of Fire and Ice / Chapter 15 - Chapter 14: Changing Priorities

Chapter 15 - Chapter 14: Changing Priorities

Somewhere north west of the Fist of the First Men.

"We're fucked!" Tormund was exhausted. Once more it had been a long night. "We're trapped out here. How long can we go on like this?"

"I believe there is still enough wood in the immediate environment to last us a few nights. We'll take shifts again alternating between sleeping and gathering wood." Benjen Stark tried to stay calm although he was cold, bone-tired and close to giving up himself. He was sitting down with his back leaning against Qhorin Halfhand's back so they could provide each other the welcome support they would normally seek against a tree. It was not safe yet to leave the circle of fire they constructed each night around their small encampment. All their belongings lay in the center, their weapons within easy reach. The men huddled close together forming a ring around the heap of furs, armour and provisions. The fire they lighted every night encircled them, providing everyone just enough room the stretch their legs.

"The only thing left is pray to the Gods they will tire of this game and leave us alone." Tormund muttered. Then he spoke up for all to hear. "They are just toying with us. They have all the time in the world and probably know we'll eventually grow weak from hunger and cold."

"Or run out of wood before that," the Thenn grumbled.

Benjen didn't like that man and always sat furthest away from him if he could help it. He had forgotten his name. Tormund Giantsbane hardly ever addressed his men by name. If he needed to get someone's attention, he used an insulting term to address them. Benjen was impressed with the extent of the man's vocabulary. Giantsbane had yet to use a jibe twice.

It was a diverse group he travelled with. Tormund Giantsbane was here to represent Mance Rayder. He was the King beyond the Wall's second in command. The big man had a feral look about him. His unkept beard was almost longer than his fiery red hair, the wind tussling both into tangled messes. Benjen guessed it hadn't been combed for years. His best features were is blue eyes. The man was a giant. Although now that Benjen had met actual giants, it was better to state that the man was just taller than any other man he knew. Somehow Giantsbane was able to get this band of misfits to function together without killing each other.

Each Wildling represented a different clan of the Free Folk. They were recognizable by their different attire and tattoos. There were of course more clans, but Mance Rayder had decided a group of ten would be more productive than a larger group. Besides even Giantsbane's leadership skills would have trouble keeping a larger group in line, or so had the King Beyond the Wall confessed to Benjen Stark.

The Watch had also sent two representatives along. Qhorin Halfhand had been the obvious choice since he was the only crow who had earned the respect of the Free Folk. The other one was a young ranger named Edd Tollet. Qhorin Halfhand saw potential in the young man and was grooming him to become a leading ranger. Benjen Stark was here because he got stuck with representing the Warden of the North on this mission. Instead of returning to Jon after he had dropped off Loras Tyrell and Brienne of Tarth at Winterfell, his brother had ordered him to help assess the threat at the Wall. Benjen knew the situation beyond the Wall was not getting any better and his conscience had told him it was the right thing to do.

Benjen heard Rattlebone complain. "You wouldn't try my plan to move our position during daylight. It would have been slow going but we could eventually have encountered a group of Free Folk and stood more of a chance to eradicate these dead fuckers." The man still wasn't happy his suggestion had been overruled. Rattlebone had shifted slightly while he spoke, rattling the bones fixed to his sinister coat.

"I explained to you before that I promised Mance Rayder I wouldn't reveal the location of any Free Folk settlement. For all we know, these dead cunts are just waiting for us to do just that. Scare us but not kill us. It is fucking likely they want us to reach our people. Perhaps a large army of dead cunts is just lurking somewhere in the neighbourhood waiting for us to make a move so they can find more of our kin to turn into dead fuckers. As far as I am concerned I prefer to give the enemy a mere ten new recruits instead of several clans of the Free Folk". Tormund Giantsbane's authority had kept the men in line so far. Benjen didn't envy him. It certainly was not easy being the leader of such a dysfunctional group.

Giantsbane reminded Benjen somewhat of Sandor Clegane. He was sure Sandor Clegane and Tormund Giantsbane would make for lively entertainment on a cold and dreary winter's day. He was undecided which one of the two had the more colourful vocabulary. His daydreaming was interrupted when the representative of the cave people spoke up. "Then we are truly fucked. Why still bother resisting?"

"You know," Benjen Stark remarked an absent expression on his face. "There exists this one person who can help us and I told him not to." A sad smile ghosted over his face. Their mission had been a fool's errand and doomed to fail. They had been out here for almost a moon and not a single White Walker had been spotted, only a lot of these so called wights. The sole purpose of this mission was to convince the crows and the Warden of the North that these White Walkers really existed.

Ten pairs of unbelieving eyes met Benjen's "You know a fucking God, Stark? You cannot make us believe that a single human could solve our predicament, most certainly not a single southerner. We need a fucking army preferably one armed to the teeth with dragonglass. We are completely surrounded and are only alive because those dead fuckers are vulnerable to fire and somehow do not function during the day so we get a reprieve to hunt for food and gather extra wood." Tormund Giantsbane exclaimed.

"Do you think your crows would send an army to fetch you if we could get a message to them?" Orell interjected.

"It doesn't matter anyway. We have no ravens left." Benjen was quick to point out to the strange man. He was a singular fellow. This must have been one of the first times Benjen had heard him speak. Usually his unnerving stare kept everyone at bay. A moon in his company had taught Benjen that the man kept to himself and only communicated with Tormund Giantsbane.

"Could you guide your eagle such a distance, Orell?" Tormund looked at him. "Why didn't you say something before?"

Orell looked in Stark's direction with disdain. "How will that southerner react to a skinchanger?"

"I don't give a fuck about his reaction if it means we still have a chance to survive this. Fuck Orell, we could have sent for help days ago!" Tormund was almost shouting now.

"What's a skinchanger?" Benjen kept his tone level in the hope of calming things down. "Are you trying to tell me you can enter the mind of an eagle?"

"What if I could?" A defiant Orell fixed his strange eyes on him.

"I would call you a warg. You would not be the first one I encountered. I know of one south of the Wall." Benjen stated in a matter of fact tone trying not be the one to look away first.

His words startled Orell whose eyes widened even more.

"Enough with the eye fucking already," Tormund always a man of action was getting impatient. "We've already lost valuable daylight. Stark, do your word writing thing and let's get a message on its way. If you do know a fucking God, I'd say now is the time to beg for his help." It was a halfhearted joke but Benjen Stark contemplated his words in earnest. It could be worth a try.

Giantsbane addressed four men who had witnessed the scene and were now talking animatedly among each other.

"You idle cunts, start fetching wood and wake us when the sun has reached its peak. I'll take first watch. The rest of you lot try to catch some sleep. That goes for you too, big friend of a mighty God. Get some rest when you're done scribbling."

"I'll go with them." Qhorin Halfhand rose to his feet and stretched his stiff limbs. Giantsbane nodded his assent and watched them leave.

Benjen observed Orell closely when the man lifted his head upward his eyes turning white. It was a disturbing sight. He had seen Jon warg before but the boy always closed his eyes. Soon enough an eagle landed on Orell's shoulder.

Benjen had written a short but subtle message to Maester Aemon. He would not explicitly ask for Jon to send a dragon. He would hand the responsibility of this decision over to the Maester. He carefully attached the small scroll to a leg of the large bird. All the while the eagle watched him with the same unsettling stare as Orell often used. Benjen was relieved when the scroll was secured and the eagle flew away in the direction of Castle Black. Now all they had to do was stay alive as long as possible and pray help would come whilst they still drew breath. Well at least there was a shimmer of hope now.

 

***

 

Two days later they were preparing for another long night of keeping these creepy walking dead men at bay. Benjen stood alert in the small space. He examined the circle of fire thoroughly. A few nights ago the fire had died down in one spot and several wights had been able to enter their space before they had had a chance to rekindle the fire.

Luckily the few pieces of obsidian the Free Folk had brought with them had been enough to destroy the dead that had gotten through.

The first time Benjen had seen the Free Folk put down an undead soldier with a piece of dark glass he had been stunned. Ordinary steel did not deter the enemy, even if one cut of a piece of a wight's body, the rest of the corpse just kept attacking. But just a small cut with a dagger made of volcanic glass and the creatures turned to ash and bones. You didn't even need to stab a vital part of them, any hit would do. It had taken Benjen some effort to persuade Mance Rayder to borrow him a dagger to take with him to Castle Black. The Free Folk only had a few of them left and they considered these more valuable than anything else. The small daggers were the only effective weapon they possessed aside from fire.

When Benjen had shown the dagger to Maester Aemon, the man had touched the cold material with a thoughtful expression on his face. He had called for Jeor Mormont and in the old arsenal with discarded weapons they had found a small stack of this material. Maester Aemon had asked the Lord Commander to assign two of his most educated men to help him search the books on the Long Night. They would also browse through the old reports from previous Lord Commanders of the Night's Watch. Jeor Mormont had sent two stewards that were able to read to help the old Maester.

Benjen hoped he could make good on his promise to Mance Rayder. He prayed they could somehow find more of this material. He had urged Maester Aemon to read up on all of the known mines in Westeros.

A shout from Tormund Giantsbane had all his senses on alert. "Here they come. Form up in a circle and do not let the fire go out. The large man had a small dagger in one hand and a torch in the other. Benjen preferred the combination of his glass dagger and sword. The steel sword didn't kill the wights but it could cripple them. A corpse without legs was not so big a threat anymore. He had cut countless wights in half these last few nights.

Suddenly a large ice spear was thrown their way. They were completely taken by surprise. It had been thrown with superior force and the spear pierced Qhorin Halfhand's torso. The man died instantly. Everyone froze. This was no longer a mindless attack of numb creatures that seemed to have no brains. This was a calculated move of a powerful enemy.

"Use your shields," Giantsbane shouted, "and for fuck's sake move his body and burn it. I will not fight a blue eyed undead Qhorin if I can help it. There must be a White Walker near. Scouts have described them carrying such spears. Keep your eyes and ears open. If I am right and a White Fuck is near, this will be an even more trying night."

"One by one they left their circle to fetch shields and the few pieces of armour they had stacked in the middle of their little safe haven. The others made sure to close the gap and defend the entire perimeter."

"Is it me or are there more wights out there than before?" the Thenn remarked.

"Stop talking and keep fending them off". Giantsbane ordered with laboured breath. "If some of us fail we all fall. One gap and we will be overrun, there are too many of them."

The night was not yet half way through but Benjen Stark was already getting desperate. His swordarm ached. The screeching of the wights was deafening. As far as the light of their circle of fire allowed him to see, hundreds of wights stood waiting to replace their fallen brothers. It was hopeless. He knew praying would do him no good but he still turned his head upwards for a small moment to send a quick prayer to the old Gods. It looked as if his plea got an instant answer. A large light lit up the sky. A moment later the ground seemed to catch fire too.

"What the fuck is that?" Giantsbane called out. Everyone looked at the large flames that descended from the sky, burning through their enemy before their very eyes. Benjen narrowed his eyes in an attempt to see more clearly. He could now distinguish two large shadows. By the Gods, there actually were two dragons spouting fire and systematically pushing the enemy back. Jon had answered his call and sooner than expected.

"That's my fucking friend I sent the message to remember!" Benjen called out looking smug. The wights had stalled their attack and Benjen's companions all stared with utter awe at the two large creatures that flew in wide circles, always changing direction to avoid becoming a target but raining fire in an effective pattern forcing the enemy to retreat.

Benjen was proud of his nephew. He couldn't have devised a better tactic himself.

The fires lit up their direct environment and the men on the ground could now discern the small figure on one of the powerful flying beasts. They stared with open mouth.

When Jon was sure that a large area around the defensive circle was cleared of the enemy, he ordered Rhaegal down, loosened the two bags he had brought with him and dismounted. He urged the green dragon to take to the sky again. 'You'll be safer up there and can keep an eye out for the enemy.' he sent the thought to Rhaegal's mind.

Benjen tempered the fire on one side so Jon could enter their little circle. The hugged each other desperately. "What took you so long? Benjen's joke fell flat.

"Why didn't you send for me sooner?" Jon reproached. "However did you survive this long? Do they always attack in such large numbers? I would not have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes." Jon looked around and saw the Free Folk stare at him with adoration in their eyes.

Tormund Giantsbane came forward and spoke up. "You are very powerful. We are lucky you fight on our side. How do you command those fire creatures?"

"They are called dragons." Jon hesitated not knowing how to address the man.

"This is Tormund Giantsbane. The right hand of the King Beyond the Wall." His uncle helped Jon. "Tormund Giantsbane, meet my kinsmen," he hesitated on the name, "Jon Targaryen." He finished. When Jon rode dragons he was a true Targaryen. He sent a wordless apology to his nephew.

"They obey you? Tormund repeated his question. "You can call me Tormund."

"They do, Tormund. You see, I raised them ever since they hatched and were no larger than a kitten. They consider me their parent."

"He is also a skinchanger and can control them that way as well." Benjen added knowing that would earn Jon even more respect.

Orell stepped forward and kneeled before Jon. "I am honoured to make your acquaintance. I have only heard very old stories of mythical wargs controlling such large beasts.

The other leaders of the Free Folk kneeled as well.

Jon took in the scene and was completely at a loss. The most heard statement of the Free Folk was that they were free and kneeled to no one.

"Please get up." Jon was really embarrassed now. "We are not safe yet. It is still a long way to Castle Black. And I do not know if I can stay with you the entire time. I promised I would only be gone for a few days."

"Let's get through this night first. Tomorrow morning we will start our trek back." Tormund had been the first one back on his feet. The others were slowly following his example. Orell reluctantly left his kneeling position.

"I brought furs, food and something to drink with me that will keep you warm. Also a few weapons but just the one dagger made of volcanic glass I am afraid. If you are low on food, my dragons can hunt for you in the morning."

"Jon behind you! " Benjen yelled.

Jon instinctively ducked the spear that now flew over his head before turning around and drawing Blackfyre from its scabbard. He immediately pounced forward stabbing the figure that approached him by stepping over the wood where the fire had been extinguished by his uncle earlier. It looked like a man entirely made of ice. 'A white Walker', he realised. 'Damn I should have drawn the glass dagger.' But before he could even finish that thought the creature before him exploded in a thousand ice crystals. Numerous wights that had come running up behind it all fell lifeless to the ground.

The members of the Free Folk who had drawn their weapons once more upon hearing Benjen Stark cry out were speechless. The boy clearly was magic, that or he came straight from the Gods.

"You just slew a fucking White Walker! That's the first time I ever heard they could be destroyed! Do you have a magical sword as well, young slayer?" Again Tormund was the first one to come to his senses.

"I don't, I didn't …" Jon was at a loss for words.

"It is a rare sword." Benjen came to his nephew's rescue. "There are only a few of these left in the realm. It is made of a material called Valyrian Steel. You will be able to see the difference with our steel swords when it grows lighter. Let's rekindle the circle of fire and watch each other's backs. Who knows what is still out there?"

"If you can protect me while I sit here in the middle of this circle, I will warg into my dragon to scout the environment. He handed his sword to his uncle. "Take it for now." When his uncle hesitated he added. "Don't worry, I will want it back the moment I am done here."

Jon sat down, closed his eyes and asked Rhaegal if he could fly along with him in his mind. The dragon was only too happy to comply. He didn't like this strange cold land and the creepy enemy they had just scared away. He hadn't seen the white shape attacking his human until it was too late. He would be glad when the light returned to the sky. Jon reassured both dragons he was all right and warged with Rhaegal asking him several times to use his flames to provide the necessary light to scan the environment for the enemy.

The Free Folk observed from their position on the ground how the dragons flew in circles over the area, little bursts of flame betraying their whereabouts. Soon they could hardly see them anymore.

The darkness seemed to have swallowed them up.

Finally Jon stirred. He had aborted his scouting mission with Rhaegar. "I could only see a few creatures and they were moving away from us. My guess is that by defeating that White Walker, we somehow destroyed most of the army present tonight. I saw hundreds of corpses. I will ask the dragons to burn these bodies at dawn. It would not do for another White Walker to come by and raise them once more." Jon accepted Blackfyre from his uncle and put the sword back in its scabbard.

"You believe the White Fuckers are the ones to raise these dead fuckers and they become lifeless when he is defeated?" Tormund asked.

"It is just a guess. But you all saw what happened to most of the wights when the White Walker exploded in ice crystals. Somehow they were connected." Jon stated. "I also believe the White Walker controlled them somehow.

"So you think it is safe for now? They will not attack again tonight?" Orell asked Jon.

"I believe so. The few that were still moving were fleeing north. We should stay vigilant though. Most of us can rest but a few will need to stand guard." Jon looked at Giantsbane so the man knew it was up to him to assign the tasks.

"How do you control both dragons?" Orell was fascinated by the young man before him.

"Well, I can feel the dragons and link our minds. That way I can sense what they are thinking without changing into their skin. Once the link is established, I am able to send thoughts to them. If I really concentrate I can also send images to their minds. The dragons share a mental connection with each other as well. If I can reach one, he can tell the other without making a sound. I only really warg into the green dragon, I mean change into his skin, when I want to examine things from high up through his eyes or need to react very quickly to new situations. You understand?" Jon looked at the strange man beside him and saw him nod with a devoted expression in his big eyes.

"You are a warg as well?" Jon guessed.

"I am, but not as powerful. I have my eagle and I can only communicate with him if I change into his skin. If I try really hard I can warg into other small animals like ravens. But with my eagle it is easier."

"It is the same for me." Jon was glad to finally talk to someone who had experience with warging. "My connection to my direwolf is second nature as well. If I try to warg into the mind of an unfamiliar animal I need to concentrate a lot harder." He had not looked up while he talked and therefore had missed the looks of complete awe on the faces of his audience.

"A direwolf? You can warg into a direwolf? That is one of the more ferocious creatures that live here." Orell's excitement made him raise his voice.

All the others had heard his outburst and were waiting to see how the boy would react.

"I can. I found him when he was but a small pup. Actually, I think he found me. He entered my mind before I ever laid eyes on him. You could say he chose me." Jon tried to explain as best as he could.

"I fucking need to introduce you to Mance Rayder. The man would give his crown to you in an instant if he had one." Tormund's respect for the boy knew no bounds.

"Mance Rayder? He is your King Beyond the Wall?" Jon asked. "I would like to speak to him as well. I do not know when that will be possible though. I will first have to fly back to inform my entourage of my plans."

"What are you saying Jon?" Benjen Stark was exhausted but his tired mind had still caught the intent in Jon's words.

"I am going to assess the situation here. I will scout during the next few days and when I am sure I can safely leave you for some time, I will fly back to my advisers and inform them of what happened here. I must convince them that the situation beyond the Wall requires our immediate attention. The Iron Throne has waited for seventeen years and can wait a few moons or longer if necessary. The safety at the Wall is also the responsibility of a true ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. I cannot turn my back on this. The presence of my dragons will probably mean the difference between life and death for tens of thousands of Free Folk living beyond the Wall."

"But Jon, Ser Gerold, your Kingsguard?" Benjen understood what his nephew was trying to say but he knew very well an outsider would not easily believe what was going on beyond the Wall. Hells, he hadn't believed the full extent of the situation himself before this night.

"I will try to explain to them what is happening here. If we do not help now, the army of the dead will only grow its numbers. If we stall too long we will probably have to fight an army that has absorbed all of the Free Folk and numbers over a hundred thousand strong. If I can make Ser Gerold understand this, there will be no further discussion. Besides, we have a very good strategy: target the White Walkers. If I can scout from up high and know long in advance where they are, we can adapt our positions."

Although the two southerners had been speaking in a low voice and faced each other, the representatives of the Free Folk had tried to follow this conversation and had picked up most of the content. Again Tormund was their spokesmen. "You are King of the Southerners and you volunteer to help us Free Folk?"

Jon startled. This was a new situation for him. First Uncle Benjen had exposed him as a Targaryen and now a whole bunch of strangers just overheard his plans to overthrow King Robert. He decided to throw caution to the wind and be straightforward for once. He looked Tormund Giantsbane in the eye and his voice rang clear when he justified his future actions.

"I am no King yet. My grandfather was King. My father was murdered as were my siblings and our throne was stolen. Loyal people hid me when I was a baby. Now that I am an adult and my dragons have grown up as well, I will force the man that murdered my family from the throne and become King. I intend to do this step by step, hopefully without the use of my dragons. I do not want to harm the people of the Seven Kingdoms, they were not at fault. But yes, I hope that within several moons I will be King of the Southerners. I will carry the title of 'Protector of the Realm'. That means I will protect you who live in the north just as I would help the people that live in the south if they were threatened by an enemy they couldn't fend off themselves." Jon exhaled deeply. Somehow he felt lighter. Something about this group made him drop his guard. Amongst them, he could be himself for once and not pretend.

"If you help us defeat these white fuckers and keep our families safe, I will personally help you kill the cunt that murdered your family and has stolen your throne." Tormund promised immediately.

"I hope it won't come to that. My plan is to persuade most of his allies to my side by diplomacy and to bluff or intimidate Robert Baratheon into giving up the throne. But I'll keep your promise in mind Tormund, thank you. Now does anyone want a drink? I brought a special brew that should keep you warm. And if anyone needs extra furs or another weapon, help yourselves."

Drinks were shared and toasts made. Jon used the opportunity to eat something as well. Then he claimed one fur and lay down on the ground. "Now if you don't mind, I would like to catch some sleep. I have come a long way and it has been some time since I had a bit of rest."

"You can sleep soundly, Southern King. I will personally see to it that your magic sword will not be stolen from you." Tormund promised Jon.

Benjen smiled. Leave it to Jon to win some of the fiercest warriors of the Free Folk over in less than half a night. He couldn't wait to tell Ned.

"What will your fire beasts do while you rest?" Orell asked. He had not let the fascinating young man out of his sight and would try to learn everything he could from him.

Jon closed his eyes for just a short moment. "The dragons have found a cave and are resting now. They will hunt for food in the morning." Jon reassured Orell. He pulled the furs around him and fell asleep almost instantly.

Benjen watched his nephew's even breaths. He marveled at the fact that the boy was instantly at ease in such a cold and rough environment. Not to mention falling asleep among Wildlings he had just met and who already kissed the ground he walked on. He lay down next to him trying to combine their body heat and threw his black furs over the both of them. It was cold out but the heat of the fires encircling them kept them from freezing. People at court would never believe this. Could you imagine Prince Joffrey sleeping outside in the cold amongst uneducated strangers without any comfort except the clothes on his back and a warm fur coat? He forced the ridiculous image from his mind and before he realised it, exhaustion had gotten the better of him and he was asleep as well.

 

When Benjen awoke, he didn't spot Jon right away. "Where is he?" He shouted in a panic, waking up the rest of their little group.

"I'm here Uncle, just stretching my legs." Jon appeared behind the large body of Tormund Giantsbane. The two men were gnawing on a piece of meat and Giantsbane carried something over his shoulder.

"I kept an eye on your King for you Stark. The two of us found something fresh to eat for everyone." Giantsbane boasted. "The dragonrider can shoot a mean arrow. He could easily become one of us."

Benjen couldn't miss the camaraderie that seemed to have developed between his nephew and the leader of this mission.

Giantsbane looked at his coincidental hunting partner. "Your skill with a bow is very valued by the Free Folk. It can get you a woman in your bed every night." He enjoyed the youth's blushing face. "Don't tell me you command dragons but are afraid of a woman's cunt."

"I am not but now is not the time for this." Jon replied his face still on fire.

"A pity, I think I know just the one for you. Hair kissed by fire she has, just like me. Good with a bow as well. A great pity." He shook his head. "If ever you change your mind, you just have to say the word. With your pretty curls and bow arm, Ygritte could be yours whether you wanted her or not."

Jon tried to ignore Tormund's last words and sat down next to his uncle. "Tormund told me we should eat and be on our way as soon as possible. I'm sure you agree."

His uncle signalled Tormund behind Jon's back to let the boy be for now. "I'll be glad to leave here and I would have done it sooner if I could." He answered his nephew. They both smiled now. "Did you sleep well out here on the ground?"

"Come on Uncle, this is not the first time we had to sleep under the sky. Besides, I was exhausted. The long flight to the Wall, hardly stopping at Castle Black to get directions and then trying to see in the dark on the way over here, a man could get tired from less."

"A man you call yourself? Did I miss your seventeenth nameday? I lost track of time out here?" Benjen bumped his shoulder.

"Not yet. Give it a few days." Jon smiled. "Of all the things to talk about right now, this isn't important, Uncle. What do you know of those White Walkers? How many are there? Do you think I killed that one because my sword is made of Valyrian Steel?"

"Well, that and your lightening quick reflexes. I saw the White Walker trying to stab you with an icy dagger but you were quicker. Not to mention your instant ducking to avoid his ice spear first.

But to answer your question, I think it was the Valyrian steel although we cannot be sure. You are the first one to come close enough to a White Walker to be able to stab him. Before last night I had never even seen one before. So I cannot tell you how many there are out there. This whole mission was about the Free Folk proving to us these creatures even exist. I guess we can return home because our mission has been accomplished."

Jon had finished eating while they talked and was gathering his belongings. "I'll call the dragons and scout the environment. Tormund says that they will not attack by daylight but I want to know exactly where they are. I promised Davos and Sandor that I'd take every precaution. The dragons can also burn all these remains." Jon gestured at the hundreds of corpses that lay inert all around them.

"I do not suppose you can give me a ride to Castle Black?" his uncle joked but Jon heard the wistful tone.

"You would get burned, Uncle. Their scales are rather hot. I can only ride them because of my Targaryen blood. Even their fire doesn't burn me. I can't take you with me, I'm sorry." He left their little camping space and searched for a spot without corpses to call for his dragons.

 

***

 

The next two nights they saw wights in the distance but not many and they did not come under attack. Jon had used the daylight to scout the far North. He had seen thousands of wights on the march. Different groups in different locations but all of them bound for a central point. It looked like the enemy was regrouping somewhere in the far north. The good news was that they were travelling slowly and the gathering place was in the opposite direction from any known settlement of the Free Folk. Jon had marked all the locations he had seen them on the map he got from his Targaryen uncle. The fact that they were gathering probably meant they were planning an all-out attack next time. Their eventual target could be anything, a large settlement of the Free Folk or one of the castles along the Wall. Who knew what drove these strange creatures? It was certainly possible that the army of the dead would try to get past the Wall and attack the Seven Kingdoms?

 

Jon left them at the end of the second night. He was planning to fly high over the Wall while it was still dark and drop a message wrapped around a stone to let the Night's Watch know that Edd Tollet and Benjen Stark were still alive and on their way back. If he wanted to reach Sea Dragon Point later that day there was no time to stop at Castle Black and visit Maester Aemon. Orell had forecasted a cloudy day. The man had taken a liking to his fellow skinchanger. He had explained how he could feel the weather change deep in his bones and was often right in his weather predictions. Jon had expressed his thanks and expressed his hope to meet him again soon.

Before he flew off, he promised his uncle and Tormund that he would be back and asked the two of them to make arrangements for a meeting near Castle Black between all parties a moon from now so his entourage could participate as well. Tormund promised to bring Mance Rayder and the heads of the clans. Jon could hear the 'ayes' from the ones present, no hesitation whatsoever in their voices. Benjen Stark would make sure that the Night's Watch was adequately represented at the meeting. Jon climbed on the back of his dragon, shouted "keep yourselves safe so I will see you all soon," and flew off, acknowledging the eagle that accompanied him the first part of the way with a nod and a smile.

All the way back, Jon tried to think of the best way to convince his counsellors to postpone their cause and deal with the situation at the Wall first. Jon realised that the plan he had in mind would ask a lot of their resources and they needed to deal with Dragonstone as well. He would not postpone that campaign and lose the perfect opportunity to take possession of the island without much resistance perhaps even none at all.

He arrived mid-afternoon. As soon as he climbed off Rhaegal, Ghost came running up to him. His direwolf's greeting was heart-warming. Jon indulged him, knowing full well that the others would not be as welcoming. He walked to the tavern with Ghost glued to his side. Jon hoped they would let him take a hot bath first and change his clothes before assailing him with their admonishments.

Sandor stood outside leaning against a wall and was the first to see him arrive. "Your uncle okay?"

Jon didn't mind he didn't get a proper greeting first. He appreciated Sandor's concern for Benjen Stark.

"He is now." A tired smile graced Jon's face. "Nice to see you, Sandor."

"You as well, boy." Sandor moved closer but stopped. "You reek, boy. Let's get you in through the back entrance. With a bit of luck you can have sufficient time to clean up before they descend on you. I'll try to prepare them. They are having another strategy meeting. I've lost count of how many they've held since you left."

"Thanks Sandor. Is everyone all right?" Jon asked while they circled the building.

"Define all right. If you mean are they alive and healthy, the fucking answer is yes. If you ask if they are calm and happy, what the fuck did you expect?" He opened the door and let Jon enter. He followed him and continued the conversation in a whisper so as not to give away their presence.

"I do not think Ser Gerold slept much since you left. Everyone's appetite has suffered, except for the boys. Somehow they think you can take on anything and everything and will show up without a scratch when you've finished doing your thing. That last sentence is a quote of Gendry."

They had reached the top of the stairs. Jon smiled at Sandor. "Thanks for everything, Sandor. Will you send a servant up with some hot water please? And if at all possible, wait a bit before you break the news of my return downstairs."

"You've got it, my Prince." He said the last two words in a teasing tone. "I can't wait to hear of your reckless adventures. I'm sure you will shock the whole fucking room." Sandor left.

"You have no idea." Jon mumbled to himself and undressed in order to take a very welcome hot bath.

 

When he entered the common room downstairs, Sam was the first to rise from his chair and embrace him. Gendry was quick to follow Sam's lead.

"We were so relieved when Sandor told us you had arrived safe and well." Sam voiced the thought and Gendry nodded, clearly feeling the same.

Jon eagerly returned their hugs but did not speak a word. He turned to confront Davos and his loyal Kingsguards.

Davos didn't hesitate and followed his friends' example by embracing him tightly. "I was so worried. Glad to have you back, son." He whispered in Jon's ear.

A tense silence ensued. Jon was determined to wait it out and tried not to cringe at the stern look of Ser Gerold. He fervently hoped the knight would come around. He loved him and wanted his approbation. He really needed him to understand his point of view, certainly taking into account the next steps he had in mind.

Jon braced himself when he saw Ser Gerold approach. The knight surprised him however when he dropped the stern act and Jon got pulled against a lean body. "Don't every do that to us again, my Prince. At the very least warn us and say a proper goodbye."

At Jon's nod the tension seemed to leave the room. Ser Arthur, Ser Barristan and Ser Oswell were glad they could hug Jon without censure from their Lord Commander. Sandor looked at the scene and just grinned at Jon. Jon smiled back at him over Ser Oswell's shoulder.

"Have you eaten anything lately?" Davos practical as always had asked the cook to prepare a plate.

"Not since yesterday evening." Jon replied. He sat down and accepted the food gratefully. Sam poured him a cup of ale. Jon was relieved that the ice was broken and they could move on for now. He knew he would probably get a scolding or two in private but nothing could take away the treasured feeling their warm welcome had provided. He waited until he had swallowed down his first spoonful before he addressed Davos. "Perhaps you can start to fill me in on the situation here? Have any ravens come in with more news? I reckon Sandor has told you my uncle is okay?"

"Yes he did." Davos who had taken the seat facing him answered. "Well, here everything is ready to depart for the Driftmark. All of the messages have been sent. If all is well then the first ship should be on its way to Dragonstone as we speak. It is still too early for replies from Winterfell, King's Landing or any of our other allies. There is one message I didn't open though." He reached into his pocket and handed Jon a sealed scroll. "It is from Princess Daenerys." While Jon studied the small item with an absent expression on his face, Davos turned toward Ser Gerold. "Anything else you would like to add Ser Gerold?" Jon shifted his attention from the scroll in his hand back to the meeting.

"Yes, the messages to ready the other ships have been sent. We will have to use a significant part of the war fund Lord Eddard Stark has left at the Driftmark for us. Ser Arthur has assured me it will be more than sufficient and can be replenished if necessary. Ser Arthur just smiled mysteriously. "We still need to hear from Lord Manderly but I'm sure he is glad he can finally start helping us. No sightings of Ironborn ships here. King Robert still needs at least a sennight to reach Winterfell."

"You forgot to mention the message from Lord Reed," Ser Barristan remarked.

"Tell me." Jon urged always glad to receive the useful and intriguing information his interim foster father offered from time to time. "I have long been expecting another bombshell from him."

"Better read it yourself, my Prince." Ser Gerold said. "I hope you can make sense of his cryptic words. As far as I understand, he urges us to go to Dragonstone and not let us be deterred by a simultaneous situation. We must believe that our Prince is capable of handling both." All eyes turned to Jon who sighed. Ser Gerold resumed "There was a warning for Winterfell in there as well. Danger lurks up high. As long as the Stag is in the North, a Wolf should never wander alone. He closed by stating that when the Stag leaves, the pups can prevent disaster by keeping the pack together."

All eyes were on Jon now who had accepted the little scroll from Davos. He was reading the short message his brows furled in concentration. "The only risky thing high up in Winterfell I can think of is young Brandon Stark scaling the walls and risking falling to his death. Every message I get from the Starks describes one or other antic of Bran. Lately he climbed to the very top of the old Tower. It could be something else but it will do no harm if I send a raven to Winterfell and I advise them to supervise Bran. At the very least they should limit his climbing activities during the royal visit. The last bit is clearer. It is a warning not to split the Stark siblings up when Uncle Ned leaves for King's Landing. Since taking them all is not really an option since Robb needs to stay behind to rule the North in his father's stead, Uncle Ned should leave his children at Winterfell. Lady Catelyn won't like that. It means she will probably not be allowed to follow Ned to the capital."

He put the scroll down and looked at Davos. "I hope it doesn't mean anything else than that."

"You already made more sense of it than us, my Prince." Davos praised him.

"And what about the simultaneous situation, my Prince?" Ser Gerold had even gotten more apprehensive when Jon had jumped straight to the last part of the message . He had not missed his Prince's sigh and his dark expression when he had mentioned the first statement of Lord Reed.

Jon contemplated his pint of ale. 'Where to start?' he mused.

He looked at Davos and Sandor silently pleading with them to support him. He turned his head and saw Sam and Gendry doing their utmost to stay inconspicuous. They were clearly hoping they would be allowed to stay in the room as long as they didn't draw attention to themselves.

"Perhaps I should start by telling you what happened on my trip north. I hope you will believe what I have to tell you, even if I talk about killing an ice monster."

Jon then proceeded to give a detailed description of everything that had occurred from the very moment he climbed on Rhaegal's back and left Sea Dragon Point. He restrained himself from using a smug tone when he told them how he left the Night's Watch clueless of his mode of transportation. He emphasised how dire the situation of his Uncle Benjen and his companions had been when he found them. He concluded his long monologue with his promise to help the Free Folk.

An eerie silence ensued. Davos was deep in thought. Ser Gerold looked out of his depth. The others just sat there not knowing if they believed everything they had heard. His friends were whispering in their corner. Jon heard them mention the words White Walker several times.

"Can I tell you what I think we should do?" he ventured. "That way you can analyse it amongst yourselves later when I rest a bit and we can discuss strategies tomorrow.

"You have a fucking plan?" Sandor asked? "First years of doing nothing and now we are in open conflict with coward Krakens, you want to start to invade Westeros and kill thousands of dead fuckers north of the Wall all at the same time? Do not hesitate now for fucks sake. I am all ears."

"Well it is simple really." Jon started with the easier part. "We still move on Dragonstone exactly as planned. Only I will not be going with you right away. I will concentrate on the fight here first."

"How do you propose to take on thousands of wights and an undefined number of White Walkers?" Ser Gerold asked sceptically. "The dragons can only do so much. Are you seriously asking your Kingsguard to let you go off on your own once more? We are sworn to protect you."

"I am not doing this on my own." Jon tried to assure him. "I'll have the support of the combined forces of the clans of the Free Folk. Uncle Benjen and Uncle Aemon will hopefully bring the Night's Watch on board as well.

Our first objective should be to prevent the army of the dead growing their ranks by preying on easy targets. The easiest way to do that would be to let the Free Folk south of the Wall and into the Gift but that land belongs to the Northern Kingdom. I realise that the Lords of the North would rebel not to mention the reaction of the men of the Night's Watch. We know from previous negotiations how divided they are on this topic.

I had hoped to have more time to guide both parties to a compromise and to persuade them of the need to exist together in peace, but the reality is that time is almost up. I had thought of moving the ships at Skagos and Bear Island to their respective sides of the Wall with just enough crew to sail them safely. They can be used to temporarily shelter the woman, children and elderly of the Free Folk. The Free Folk claim the dead can't swim. The ships could stay well in sight of the shore. Some of you could travel to the Bay of Ice on board of one of our ships and join me at the Wall."

Jon sipped from his ale. Everyone stayed silent so he continued. "Our second objective is to devise an efficient battle plan. The enemy has the numbers but their foot soldiers are just mindless puppets. I intend to scout their movements and predict where they will fight us. Then, we will make sure that we are ready for them. We can build trenches to set on fire and create several traps to try to get them cornered. Then the dragons will rein fire on them. If we had access to more volcanic glass, we could hit them with a barrage of arrows outfitted with small glass tips. Many of the Free Folk are excellent archers. The dragons can attack from the air and force them into a certain direction. And as I told you, chances are that when we target their leaders, these so-called White Walkers, we take out countless wights with one kill.

 

Jon had spoken to all of them but studied Ser Gerold reaction in particular. "That's the rough layout of the plan. Let us discuss the feasibility and the logistics during the coming days. As I explained the dead are not ready to attack the Free Folk in full force just yet. We have time to travel to the Wall by conventional means. I had hoped that some of you would be willing to make the trip to Bear Island and accompany the fleet to the Wall, perhaps Davos and at least one of my Kingsguard? If Gendry would agree to come along, his skills could come in handy as well."

He saw Gendry look up and addressed him directly. "Only if you are willing of course. You do not need to make a decision right away. If you came however, you could assist the Night's Watch. They can use someone skilled to ameliorate the state of their weapon arsenal and help their only blacksmith. But your main task would be something entirely different. There are a few pieces of obsidian at the Wall, mostly daggers. I think it would be wise to melt them down and create several spearheads and arrow points so more men can be armed with the limited material at our disposal."

Jon now turned his attention to Sam who was sitting next to Gendry. "Is it too soon Sam to ask whether you have found out where we could obtain more of this volcanic glass?"

"Actually, we might already know where to look," Sam stammered. "That is, Ser Arthur told me about some mines on Dragonstone. If he is right, there is a mountain of obsidian on that island. More than you'll ever need. The problem however is the timing. I do not see how we can get there, mine it and bring it here before the army of the dead attack." Sam looked nervous.

"Dragonstone?" Jon asked and turned his head toward the knight. "Ser Arthur?"

"It was your father who showed these mines to me. They are close to the beach. We could probably access them without having to occupy the entire island first. The mining will not be too difficult, at least not at first. I recall I was able to touch the material and the shards I touched were rather large. So a lot of it should be easy to reach. I reckon a few swings with a pickaxe would already provide us with enough material to make hundreds of arrow points. You should know though that your father called it dragonglass." Ser Arthur explained happy to have come up with this solution for his Prince.

"Do not encourage him." Ser Gerold's newly found indulgence was not unlimited. "I will not have him fly off to Dragonstone, mine the damn things and fly back all by himself. It is too dangerous."

Sam scraped his throat.

"What is it Sam? You have a better idea here?" Davos encouraged the timid youth to speak up.

Sam swallowed at first but then straightened his back and ventured "What if we send a raven and let some loyal people at Dragonstone start mining the volcanic glass immediately? By the time they have a fair amount they can load it onto one of our ships. Let's send an additional ship from the Driftmark to Dragonstone under the guise of a trading mission. Said ship would only need to transport the material the short distance to the Driftmark. Letting Jon pick up a first batch at the Driftmark where people know and love him would not be that risky. If he can transport enough of it then Gendry can get started. The rest can be sent by ship to the Wall where Jon might pick some of it up at the shore should Gendry have already finished his work on the first batch. I reckon it will take some time to transport it over land to Castle Black. We should as for the assistance of the Night's Watch."

Ser Gerold was still debating timing issues when Davos nodded. "Thank you Sam. That could work. We do not lose anything by sending the raven to Dragonstone today. We still have time to discuss Jon's exact involvement in all this." He looked at Ser Arthur. "Who can we contact onDragonstone? If we decide to do this, we better send a raven as soon as possible."

"I agree. That part of the plan is urgent. Give me time to assess the rest of it before sending our Prince off." Ser Gerold was quick to intervene not liking the image of his Prince crossing half of Westeros on his own.

Ser Arthur first answered Davos' question. "I'll give you some names when we're done here, Davos."

Then he raised a new topic. "We are only concentrating on the dragonglass but hasn't our Prince proven that there is another way of destroying these creatures?" He paused strategically and relished the fact that he had everyone guessing. Only Jon smiled knowingly but let the knight have his moment.

No one spoke up so Ser Arthur explained. "Do you think my sword will prove as effective as Blackfyre? Do we know of any Valyrian steel weapons we could borrow?"

"Didn't you tell us that Jeor Mormont has a sword made of Valyrian Steel?" Ser Oswell remarked, clearly excited to hear of another means to destroy this unusual enemy.

"Yes, Longclaw it is called. That's certainly a possibility." Jon affirmed. "There is Ice at Winterfell but that is not an option with King Robert arriving there soon.

"My father has one too," Sam offered but it is in the Reach and he is not likely to give it up.

"Do you really think it will be necessary to evacuate the Free Folk?" Ser Gerold asked already analysing the next phase of Jon's proposed tactic.

"Perhaps not if the Night's Watch cooperates, then there will be other options. A lot hinges on the troop movements of the army of the dead though." Jon reasoned. "If they corner them close to the shores, our ships will be their only chance at survival." Jon watched Ser Gerold from the corner of his eye. The man looked pale and worried.

 

A silence fell over the room. Gendry left their corner and approached Jon. "I am willing to go to the Wall, Jon." He stated calmly. "I'd be happy to do that for you. You only had to ask."

"Thanks, Gendry. Your presence will make a big difference." Jon yawned and rubbed his forehead. "Do you mind if I leave you for a bit. I have not had much opportunity to sleep these last few days. I would be grateful if you would already send out the messages to Dragonstone, Skagos and Bear Island. If someone can give me some writing materials, I'll write a short message to Maester Aemon to let him know I have arrived safely before I retire."

"I can do that for you." Sam was quick to help his friend. "Just let me know what it needs to say. I'll write it in code so you can go and rest now. Better still, let us go to your room. You can dictate your message for Maester Aemon from your bed."

Before Ser Gerold could stop them to ask more questions, Ser Barristan intervened. "Leave him be for now. Can't you see the poor boy is almost dead on his feet? You can have your precious strategy meeting after supper or tomorrow or both." He opened the door to help the two boys escape.

 

In his room Jon immediately settled himself on his bed. "Sam before we get to the message, do you realise that once you are at the Driftmark you can start to prepare for your apprenticeship at the Citadel? In less than a moon everything with your father should be settled. When we say goodbye here, it may well be for some time. Chances are slim that I will make it to Dragonstone before you leave for Oldtown."

"Don't worry about that now," Sam replied his voice hoarse. "Anything can happen between now and then. Besides we will find a way to communicate, you promised me."

Jon squeezed his hand. "Then let's start with the message, Sam. We also need to ask the Citadel to send a new Maester to the Wall immediately. Who do you suppose would have the greatest impact on the members of the order? I was shocked to see how frail Uncle Aemon has become. How can those learned minds in Oldtown not realise he has celebrated more than a hundred namedays? It is not right that he should still carry so much responsibility. We would not be stretching the truth an awful lot if we were to tell them he is dying."

"I think they lack a volunteer and do not like to force a Maester to live his entire life in exile at the Wall. But to answer your question, you could ask Eddard Stark as Warden of the North to write it. He gets full reports on the situation at the Wall from his brother the official liaison, doesn't he?"

"Great idea, you can draft that one yourself so Uncle Ned will only need to sign it. Now for the other one," Jon started to dictate and Sam diligently wrote everything down. It was like a glimpse into the future, Jon and his Maester sending out royal instructions.

When Jon's eyes followed Sam's silhouette leaving his room he noticed Ser Oswell had taken up guard. He acknowledged the man with a nod before Sam shut his door.

Jon took up a more comfortable position on his bed and retrieved the message from Dany. His tired mind had difficulty to decipher the coded message. When he had finished reading it, her words hadn't lifted his spirits as he had hoped. Usually her messages had the tendency to make him smile but this one left him feeling angry, guilty and confused. She had been attacked by a suitor and a stranger had come to her rescue. The only thing that made him feel a little bit better was the realisation that Ser Barristan was as good as on his way to fetch her. If only it could have been sooner. He envied Khal Drogo the role of her saviour. It should have been him. He was her designated protector.

 

***

 

Downstairs Ser Gerold summoned Davos, Ser Arthur, Ser Barristan and Sandor Clegane to discuss the best way to go forward.

"Sandor, do you reckon you will be able to make a difference at the Wall? Can you assure me that you will be able to fight when one of the most used weapons over there will be fire?"

Sandor looked conflicted. "I would really like to help kill uh I mean destroy those dead fuckers. I know for a fact that I will be much better at communicating with a Tormund Giantsbane and the likes than any of you. You all heard the boy'sdescription. I am fairly sure that that is the main reason you are asking me to accompany our Prince."

Ser Gerold nodded. "That and the knowledge that you are a capable commander on the ground. I have seen how efficiently you organised the combined defences at the Stony Shore. You are also a formidable fighter and just as much as all of us here, you've proven that you are willing to do anything to protect our Prince. But may I remind you that you didn't answer my question? Will the fire pose a problem?"

"I am confident I can work around it. The fire I mean. With the right motivation…, " he swallowed but then continued as if making a resolution. " It is high time I conquer this anyway. I promise that I will not let you down and I formally volunteer to go on this mission."

Ser Gerold returned his stare but didn't respond. He now focused his attention on Ser Arthur. "Is your sword arm completely healed? Are you ready for battle?"

"I am almost back to my normal fighting level. And I still have the extra time needed to reach the Wall by sea not to mention the journey over land to Castle Black. You saw me training yesterday. I will be okay. Consider me a volunteer as well." A look of mutual resolve passed between him and Sandor.

Ser Gerold promised to let them know his decision soon. He pre-empted Ser Barristan's objection by telling him that he was well aware that his Prince had another task for him. Then he moved on to discuss logistics.

 

Afterwards, only Davos and Ser Gerold lingered in the room.

"I liked it better when he did not know who he was. Everything was so simple then." Ser Gerold told Davos. "How do you really feel about shifting our focus from our long time goal to this dead people and White Walker emergency?

"I think our Prince is doing the right thing. He is not doing this for personal gain, Ser Gerold. I am inclined to believe he will be doing the realm an even bigger service by defeating the dead than by deposing King Robert."

At the knight's questioning frown he explained. "Can you imagine how big the army of the dead would get if they could absorb all of the Wildlings into their ranks. The Night's Watch wouldn't stand a chance against an army of at least a hundred thousand strong. After defeating the Night's Watch, the dead would simply have to open the gates of Castle Black and they could swarm Westeros. Everyone would be dead before they even recognised what attacked them. I would like to accompany our Prince to the Wall as well but will abide by his decision."

Ser Arthur and Ser Barristan were conspiring in the corner. At Ser Gerold's admonishing look Ser Arthur spoke up to explain why they were whispering together. "We both believe there is a prophecy about this war. Prince Rhaegar was obsessed by it. He once told me the northern tale of The Long Night and the Essosi prophecy of Azor Ahai were linked somehow. Have you never heard him mention it? He believed that the Targaryens would play a role in protecting the realm from the Long Night. He honestly considered that he himself could play a major part. The famous Prince Who Was Promised. Shortly before he died he was convinced that the prophesied Prince would come from his bloodline. Do you not see? Jon might possibly be this Prince Who Was Promised. Perhaps he is destined to fight this war and we should all help him instead of dissuading him. Westeros can wait. If he does not do this then Westeros may well be doomed and conquering it will become meaningless."

"I will need more information before I can wrap my mind around this." Ser Gerold told them. He felt a headache coming up. When had things started to become so convoluted? Only a moon ago it seemed like their slow scheming would reach a swift and peaceful conclusion. Now they were talking about ice monsters, dead people and prophesies.

"Sam, can you tell me the book version of the tale of the Long Night? Just stick to the text, no wishful thinking or speculation of what this might mean for us or our Prince please."

Sam was only too happy to oblige. They ordered supper and Sam told them all he had read about The Long Night and the tale of Azor Ahai.

Jon did not make an appearance at supper or at all that evening. He slept till morning.

 

***

 

Ser Gerold ambushed his Prince after breakfast. Jon had mentioned that he wanted to check on his dragons. It was the opportunity he needed to have an overdue private talk with his Prince.

"It is really important to redefine our relationship, my Prince." Ser Gerold started out as soon as they were out of sight of the settlement. Jon just nodded and let him continue.

"The Gods are my witness, I have done my utmost to adapt to you gradually taking over command and making decisions. I even congratulated myself and was convinced that everything was working out until you pulled this stunt. Almost four days of being incommunicado, four days of being without our protection and not even a little hint of what you intended to do so we could at least advise you, if only to ease our minds."

Jon tried to interrupt but Ser Gerold continued, clearly not ready to hear his Prince's opinion yet.

"I took the time to meditate long and hard these last few days, my Prince. I realise that my options are limited since you can just literally fly away and leave the nest if we butt heads. So we need to set up some ground rules. I will promise to hear you out every time no matter what a farfetched scheme you come up with. But you need to confide in me, in us. I will remind myself each time to accept that you are the one to make the final decision. I just need you to come to us so we have the chance to offer you our insight if not our direct help. Give me, I mean us, at least a chance to influence your plans, slow you down if necessary so extra safety measures can be taken. I solemnly swear that I will not confront you head on or force you to stay with us. I also vow that I will abide by your final decision each and every time, my King." Ser Gerold ended his plea knelt on the ground his head bowed in submission.

"Please rise, Ser Gerold." Whatever outcome Jon had expected from this conversation to have a submissive Ser Gerold kneeling before him was not it. He longed for the guidance of Davos Seaworth. He took a deep breath. "I appreciate what you just said. I really do. You are the most loyal Lord Commander a King could wish for. I will do my utmost to provide you with enough information to organise my safety. I only did what I did because I was afraid my Uncle Benjen would not survive if I let you delay me or prevent me from going. "

Ser Gerold had gotten up while Jon talked. They resumed their walk without exchanging another word. Both were contemplating the significance of their promises. Jon was the first to get unsettled by the continued silence. He frantically searched for a topic of conversation to lighten the mood.

"I'm glad to hear funds will not be a problem." He spoke at last. "Ser Arthur has not let anything slip yet? The next time I see Uncle Ned, he will have to let me know how he is almost singlehandedly financing a Targaryen restoration. Any ideas?"

"I have some theories, my Prince. However they are just wild speculations. I could as well be telling you bedtime stories." Ser Gerold's demeanor betrayed his interest in the topic.

"Tell me anyway." Jon encouraged as he watched Ser Gerold relax before his eyes.

"Actually I have only three. The lame one being he inherited a secret stash of gold. You know how the noble Starks do not waste a lot of money in the North, no tournaments or feasts without a legitimate reason because 'winter is coming'. His ancestors could have accumulated a fortune living so frugal and simple for thousands of years. The second theory is of secret mines in the North with untold riches. You know how the Northerners live isolated from the rest of the Kingdom and protect their way of life. It would not be so far-fetched to learn that they kept such a thing from getting out. The last one however, well that is just wishful thinking." He looked sideways and noticed he had his Prince's rapt attention.

"Well?" Jon urged him to continue.

"It is the timing of it all you know. Money stopped being a problem as soon as Tywin Lannister disappeared. Ever thought of making a connection there?" Ser Gerold's eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Lannister gold? That would be hilarious." Jon contemplated the plausibility.

"It certainly would be. It is not impossible though. Think on it and hint at it when you talk to one of your Stark uncle's next. I bet you would have more of a chance to extract information from your Uncle Benjen."

"Of course! If your third theory should happen to be true, Uncle Benjen could have been the one to execute Uncle Ned's plan."

"What makes you think it was Eddard Stark's plan? Something that devious? It could as well have been an accidental thing, something that popped up while they were apprehending Tywin. For all we know they found him sitting in the middle of his pile of gold trying to count how much he was worth." Ser Gerold smiled openly now.

"Or Howland Reed had a rewarding premonition?" Jon ventured more seriously.

"I hadn't considered that possibility. We make a good team, my Prince." He admitted.

"A good team at spinning fairy tales for all we know." A wide smile finally appeared on Jon's face as well. "We have arrived, Ser Gerold. Stay here, I will be well in sight but at a safe distance. I'm eager to get cuddled by my dragons.

 

***

 

The rest of that day was spent devising plans. After a grueling brainstorming session the night before, Ser Gerold and Davos had agreed to hold a mini council, just with Jon and the two of them. Together they would try to reach some sort of consensus with the Prince before asking for input from the others.

"I believe you when you say that you and your dragons are vital to help the Free Folk to survive. I am also willing to believe that it is not a possibility to postpone this fight against the dead until you have established yourself as the True King and can use the manpower and resources of the Seven Kingdoms to fight these White Walkers. I am even willing to go as far as to say that there may be a sparkle of premonition in the legend of Azor Ahai and the tale of the Long Night. But," Ser Gerold took a deep breath."

"You know," Jon intervened, "Uncle Ned has this saying. "Everything that comes before the word but is horseshit." He stopped and apologised upon seeing Davos shaking his head to convey a silent admonishment.

"Do you want me to continue, my Prince?" Ser Gerold did not look best pleased with the interruption. Jon bowed his head conveying a silent apology now.

"Before we decide to plan an all-out attack and a large scale evacuation of the Wildlings, uh Free Folk," he corrected himself seeing Jon's pertinent look, "is it not possible to get the enemy to retreat temporarily? Drive them back far enough, scare them, bluff, - any ideas on how to are welcome here - act in such a way that you can leave the North earlier and perhaps even catch up with us on Dragonstone. That way you can come back and finish the fight here moons, hopefully years later. It would have the added benefit to show to the entire realm how worthy you are of the title 'Protector of the Realm' if you defeat the threat in the North after you are officially crowned King."

"How have you arranged to travel from here to the Driftmark?" Jon asked, wanting to gather more facts and at the same time stall his answer so he could think a little bit longer about how to respond to Ser Gerold's suggestion.

"I had planned on travelling on horseback to White Harbour and then sail from there to the Driftmark. I reckon the entire journey will take us a moon." Ser Gerold replied and received a consenting nod from Davos.

"The sea voyage will take a bit less than three sennights if the winds are favourable." Davos confirmed.

"You will be surprised how quickly I can get from the Wall to the Driftmark on Rhaegal's back. My guess is it will only take two or three days. I could even travel between the two locations if the need arises." He tried to assure the knight. Then he proceeded to tell them how quickly he had gotten from one point to another on his dragon these last few days. He described the easy relationship he had with Rhaegal and Viserion and how safe he felt high up in the air with them. How Viserion followed them without needing extra guidance and provided extra safety during their flights.

"Don't you realise that I will be safer flying to Dragonstone than you will be on your journey to the Driftmark? You should be careful. Best check with Yara Greyjoy where Euron Greyjoy and his ships are so you can avoid running into him. Sam should not travel to Oldtown if Euron plans an attack there."

He addressed Ser Gerold in particular now. "Your suggestion of forcing the enemy to retreat only has merit if we can come up with a sound strategy to contain the dead effectively for a significant amount of time. However I am not willing to gamble with the lives of the Free Folk. I want the ships in place anyway, whether we decide to evacuate or not. If the situation escalates due to some unforeseen circumstances, the ships will not be able to get there in time.

Jon turned to Davos. "What is your opinion, what are you thinking, Davos? How would you handle it?"

"I support your idea of moving the ships to both sides of the Wall as soon as possible. I would like to come with you to the Wall and take Ser Arthur, Sandor and Gendry with us. We could sail to Bear Island first and bring the fleet along to the west side of the Wall. Then we shall travel overland to Castle Black as swiftly as possible. Once we have arrived, we can evaluate the situation thoroughly and decide together whether it is possible to reach a safe status quo or not."

 

Jon spoke up now. "I had hoped you would be willing to take command of the invasion of Dragonstone, Ser Gerold. And Davos, I like your idea and who to take along and please do include Ghost since I won't be sailing with you. I will fly to Castle Black and save valuable time assessing the situation and devising plans with the Night's Watch and the representatives of the Free Folk while you travel by conventional means. By the time you arrive you can look at our strategies and adjust them or come up with additional ones."

Then he turned his head to address Ser Gerold once more. "You will have to speak with Sandor though. There will be a lot of fire involved. I really hope he can come along. I think he will be the best fit to deal with the Free Folk. We will also need to make sure Ser Arthur's swordarm is fully functional."

"This is one issue where we think alike, my Prince. I already talked to Sandor and Ser Arthur last night after you retired. Sandor really wants to go with you and promises he has ample motivation to overcome his fear of fire. Ser Arthur's claims his arm will be fully healed by the time they reach Castle Black. I will check with the Maester just to be sure."

He paused and looked beseechingly at Jon. "But my Prince, if you fly ahead of them to the Wall, that implies you will arrive there a long time before any of your Kingsguards or Ghost arrive." Ser Gerold pointed out. "Is there no other way?"

"You can send a message to my Uncle Benjen if that appeases you. He can act as a guard until the rest arrive if that eases your mind and I will have two large loyal dragons with me. I will be scouting some of the time high up in the air anyway. I promise not to take any risks and to stay high up in order to avoid possible arrows or spears. Please Ser Gerold, believe me. If you had seen what I have north of the Wall, you would understand I have no choice. I will not rest easy knowing the dead may attack women and children while I while the time away and feel useless on a boat sailing slowly towards the Wall."

"Perhaps you have a point there but we can still discuss how to keep you safe. Is there no way you could take someone with you on Rhaegal?" Ser Gerold asked.

"Supposing Rhaegal would agree, there is still the fact that his scales are rather hot to the touch. If we can find a solution for that I would do my utmost to get Rhaegal to comply." Jon was warming up to the idea.

"What if they wrapped their legs in several trousers and furs?" Ser Gerold proposed.

"That would hinder their grip on the dragon and they would slide off." Jon objected.

"What if we could make some kind of saddle with an enormous belt going around Rhaegal's body?"

"Again I would have to get Rhaegal to comply. I cannot help but think it would be uneasy for him. I need to think some more on this and I will consult with Rhaegal when I visit the dragons later today."

Davos suggested reconvening later with the entire small council. Jon suggested an early supper and to hold the meeting afterwards, that way he could first organise a sparring session. He was eager for some exercise.

 

***

 

The next day Ser Gerold watched Ser Arthur and Sandor Clegane accompany Jon when he visited his dragons. Gendry walked alongside Jon.

"Why would Gendry want to visit the dragons?" He asked Davos Seaworth who had joined him at the window.

"If I had to guess, I would say our Prince wants to find a way to make your idea work. He will probably ask if Gendry can come up with a means of fastening a saddle on the dragons back." Davos saw Ser Gerold's interested expression.

"Let us hope they find a way. It would make me sleep a lot better at night knowing that the Prince had one of us with him at the Wall." He remarked.

"Perhaps there is another possibility to provide him with some protection. Do you remember Jon telling us about Ser Jaremy Rykker being Master at Arms at the Wall? Surely you know he was one of Prince Rhaegar's loyal bannermen. He fought with him at the Trident and got sentenced to the Wall for it. I am sure he would be willing to look after our Prince for you. Perhaps he even knows of other Targaryen loyalists who got banned to the Wall and Rykker could assemble a protective detail to help protect the true heir to the Iron Throne."

"I would feel a lot better if I knew for sure." Ser Gerold tone sounded hopeful.

"What keeps you from writing Maester Aemon and asking him? I am sure Sam would help you with the code." Davos suggested.

"That is an excellent idea. I will inform my Prince first though. I will not go behind his back. The only effective way we can protect him over there is with his cooperation. Thanks, Davos. That is an excellent suggestion. Our Prince was right to name you Hand. Are you sure you do not want us to address you more formally?"

"Not in our tight group, later in front of the people that have to respect our King, I will have no choice. Not yet though. I like my name. Davos will do for now."

The two men fell silent. Although they stared out of the window for a long time, neither of them took in anything they saw. Both were mulling over several of the issues they wanted to resolve before the meeting they would hold with the entire group after supper.

 

***

Four days later, Jon watched the ships leave Sea Dragon Point and head for Bear Island. There they would join the rest of the fleet and sail to the Bay of Ice. Ser Gerold, Ser Barristan, Sam and several crew members that now fulfilled the role of houseguards would travel overland to White Harbour. They would take a road that stayed south of Winterfell. They had not packed much and would travel as fast as the horses could manage. The party was mounted and ready to depart as well but waited until they witnessed Jon mount Rhaegal and fly off with Viserion following his brother. Only when Jon was no longer visible, did Ser Gerold urge his horse forward. He was going to secure a home base for his Prince and Princess.

 

 

Interlude 14: Growing strong

 

The day was too hot for her to give her temper free reign. It would only result in a ridiculous headache that would linger for several days. She longed for the days that she had been younger and more energetic. She watched her son's obese body bend the frail garden chair. They were both seated in a secluded spot in one of the well-tended gardens of her domain. She had chosen a spot in the shade but the heat was still rather oppressive.

"What do you think you are doing here? Whatever could you have been thinking, leaving King's Landing and arriving unannounced on my doorstep?" Her oaf of a son had left the capital days after the King had travelled north to those enigmatic Starks.

"Well the King left and with Lord Arryn deceased, there will not be any important meetings so I decided…"

"To take a holiday?" Olenna sneered at Mace Tyrell. "Why did you not accompany our beloved King? My youngest grandson will be at Winterfell by then and you could petition the King to let him come home. As if he would be safer from scandal in the North than here in his own home. Pfff."

She opened her hand painted fan. It was a present from her granddaughter. Margaery had painted a golden Tyrell rose on a plain green fan making it the most treasured one she possessed. The soft breeze it created when she moved it cooled the sweat on her brow.

She noticed her son inhale and exhale deeply and knowing his habits she intervened before he gathered enough courage to speak.

"I'm not finished," she admonished him further. "And if you were not smart enough to think about that plan yourself, you could at least have stayed in the capital and taken an active part in governing the city. Who will profit now, Petyr Baelish or Varys, the Lannister dwarf? It could be any other small Lord with a lick of sense who recognises a power vacuum when it presents itself."

"But the King all but ordered me to." Mace Tyrell was sweating even more and it was not all because of the heat.

"And you didn't think to persuade him with promises of … I do not know some costly thing he covets or more whine or gold? For the Godssake, you practically lived with the man for years now. Haven't you learned anything about his weaknesses? Do you even know the meaning of the word 'manipulate'?" She exclaimed. "I should have summoned you back to the Reach and then pretended you were ill so I could send Willas in your stead as soon as he came of age. Fortunately he doesn't take after you. He is a true diplomate that one. I sent him to Winterfell by the way. He will come home with Loras, I am sure of it. I even hope he can arrange a betrothal between us and the Starks."

Poor Mace Tyrell could hardly follow the leaps this conversation took. He just repeated the last thing he registered regretting the stupid impression he would make beforehand. He felt really tired and the travel sickness he always suffered from after a long trip had not yet abated. "Betrothal? Do you think Willas can influence the King away from betrothing Joffrey to the Starks in their own home?"

"There are several Stark children and we have several children as well Mace. Many possibilities to form couples, my dear." She explained to him in a tone she normally used to spell something out to a small child. "Besides, do not tell me you have not heard the recent rumours concerning the royal children? Perhaps it is a blessing that our dear Margaery is not yet betrothed to the Crown Prince. I plan to bet on several horses. I seems a new contender has entered the race."

"A new contender?" Mace limited himself to parrot his mother's words once more.

"Well you can be excused not to have heard of this, I suppose. The rumours are circulating mostly around the southern shores of the Narrow Sea. Dragons have been spotted. Several sources claim this. Some suspect they belong to the Golden Company. I however do not think so. I learned something else. Prince Quentyn Martell recently visited the Targaryen Princess in Pentos. She resisted his charms if the reports of my spies are to be believed so she might still be unattached. Imagine Mace, an unmarried Targaryen female with dragons! I still have two grandsons on the marriage market. We need to be smart about this. I have sent a tentative declaration of support her way. Forcing her didn't work for the Dornish so I intent to profit from their mistakes and play it the other way. I left the ball in her court for now."

"What about all the money we've thrown at the Baratheons?" Mace complained not in the least happy with her fast changing loyalties.

"Well if the royal children are really bastards, Lord Stannis is next in line. If he has no male heirs, and Renly is out of the picture, ... A pity Shireen is so young. But anyway, Stannis knows all too well that the royal family has our financial backing ever since Lord Tywin Lannister disappeared without a trace. By the way I am really disappointed you have not gotten any information of his whereabouts out of any of the many Lannisters at court. Really Mace, you should try harder." She continued her haphazard reasoning out loud. "A pity Renly is imprisoned. Loras would surely have been able to persuade him to marry our Margaery. Well, best forget about that, even I cannot think about a plan to rehabilitate his sorry ass. Stannis hmmm, he has no male heirs. I know he is a lot older than her but if he set that old crone of his aside, Margaery could still give him sons."

"Stop it woman. Rewind a bit. Who are you supporting? The Baratheon crown Prince, Stannis, the Targaryen Princess with her rumoured dragons or do you want an alliance with the Starks in the North?" He dabbed his forehead with a no longer pristine looking piece of cloth.

"Have I not taught you anything at all?" His mother exclaimed, shaking her head in dismay. "You plant seeds for all possibilities but only harvest the one that grows the strongest. You pull the others out as if they were weeds when they become superfluous."

"Growing strong." Mace quoted their house's words. "I remember. You did tell me this before, didn't you?"

"More than once, my son. More than once." Lady Olenna got up. "It is time I went back inside. I have things to attend to before I tutor Margaery. She at least shows the promise of a keen political mind, kind of like Willas. Those two take after me. I just need to guide her some more so she can develop her skills, grow them so to speak. That way she will be able to govern her future husband and hopefully the realm."

She hurried along the garden path towards the beautiful palace, leaving a despondent man behind in the heat. Olenna had long noticed that the sun had shifted and his chair was now flooded with golden sunlight. The imbecile hadn't even had the presence of mind to switch to a place in the shades.

Swiftly she strode to her favourite parlour with north east facing windows and installed herself in her usual cosy chair in the corner where she had the best view of the colourful flowerbeds. She mentally reviewed the conversation she just had with Mace. For all she had been able to intimidate her ignorant son the entire length of the conversation, she was actually quite frustrated. She had been scheming for years and had nothing to show for it yet.

Somehow, she had been thwarted at almost every turn. Her spies had given her contradicting reports. The recurring theme throughout her struggles, were the unusual overtures of House Stark over the past few years. Benjen Stark had even come all the way to Highgarden twice. Oh, she had not been fooled. The man did collect what they owed the Night's Watch but his subtle references and inquiries about her allegiances, the mention of the Targaryens in Pentos and the new trade agreements between the North and the Reach, they were all unprecedented. Not to mention such behaviour was out of character for the normally so self- sufficient Northern Kingdom. She knew about the extravagant expansion of their glass gardens. None of it made any sense.

Most of all she had been flabbergasted by Benjen Stark's unconditional sharing of new gardening techniques with House Tyrell. She had been cautious and had applied the revolutionary method on a small part of their fields. She had been astounded when the harvest on these lands had effectively increased by more than twenty per cent.

Events had culminated lately in Eddard Stark proposing a marriage alliance, hinting at big political changes. She had known for a fact that she was not the only one scheming to profit from the downfall of the royal children and House Lannister. But who would have suspected House Stark to enter the bid for the Iron Throne so prominently?

Perhaps I should have gone north myself was her last thought before she fell into a slumber.