The Wildling Camp #33

As the days passed, Gale maintained his pretense of sleeping for most of the time. Only in the quiet moments of the night, when the camp was still, his travel companions in deep slumber, did he allow himself a few precious hours of rest. 

The incident with the Thenn warrior who had attacked him seemed to have served as a deterrent, as there were no further attempts on his life. However, Gale remained vigilant, aware of the undercurrent of insincerity in Tormund's apology.

The atmosphere around the group remained tense, and Gale couldn't ignore the barely concealed hostility directed at him from some of the other wildlings. 

He wasn't sure what Tormund and Threya were planning or whether the wildlings would turn against him, but his singular focus was on reaching the wildling encampment at the Frostfang Mountains. 

Initiating talks with Mance Rayder and convincing him to work with the Night's Watch was his top priority, and he was willing to endure the discomfort and uncertainty along the way to achieve that goal.

His very future depended on it, or so Gale thought as he reached the top of a particularly tall hill. Once there, he couldn't help but halt his steps, his eyes widening at the sight before him.

Gale was momentarily taken aback by the sheer scale of the wildling encampment sprawled before him. A vast snowy expanse was covered in a sea of fur tents and bustling with countless wildlings engaged in various activities. 

He couldn't help but mumble in amazement, "There are tens of thousands at least..."

His eyes then fell upon a colossal figure on the fringes of the encampment. It was a giant, a creature of legend, carrying massive tree logs on its shoulder. 

Gale could hardly believe his eyes as he whispered to himself, "Is that... is that a giant?"

Suddenly, Tormund's hand on his shoulder pulled Gale's attention away from the giant. "Welcome to our den, little crow," Tormund said with a mischievous grin. 

He gestured toward the sprawling encampment. "This is just the beginning. Most of the giants are still sleeping, and we haven't even united half the Free Folk tribes," he added, giving Gale's shoulder a firm pat before he continued walking.

Before Gale could respond to Tormund, Threya, who had approached him, took the lead. "Follow me. I'll take you to Mance Rayder," she instructed, her tone firm as she gestured for Gale to follow her. 

Gale didn't say a word, simply nodding and beginning to walk behind her. The weight of this mission weighed heavily on his mind, and he couldn't help but feel the eyes of the Free Folk upon him as he ventured deeper into the heart of their encampment, his dark armor making him stand out.

...

As Benjen, Edd, and Qhorin crossed the Wall, they entered Castle Black and were greeted by Ser Thorne, who was waiting for them. "I see you've finally managed to lose that stray mut of yours, Ser Benjen," Ser Thorne remarked, a hint of satisfaction in his tone. 

He looked at Benjen with a narrow gaze. "How did he die?" he inquired, a dark curiosity marking his words. 

Benjen wore an annoyed frown as he responded, "What is that to you, Ser Thorne?" His tone carried a sense of irritation. 

Ser Thorne chuckled in response. "None, I suppose. Killed by wolves, swarmed by wights, or gutted by wildlings—makes no difference, really," he nonchalantly said. "As long as he's gone, I don't have to worry about that oathless brat stabbing us in the back."

He then turned his gaze to Qhorin and greeted the old ranger. "And how have you been, old fried?" He asked. 

Qhorin nodded, acknowledging the greeting. "I could be better, but we'll have to catch up later," he replied. "We have urgent news to report to the Lord Commander," he added, gesturing for Edd and Benjen to follow him.

While Qhorin's words were calm, there was an underlying coldness that didn't escape Ser Thorne's notice. He was left befuddled by Qhorin's distant demeanor. 

However, Ser Thorne was not given an opportunity to question it as Qhorin swiftly moved toward the Lord Commander's office, leaving no room for further conversation.

The trio entered the Lord Commander's office and found Lord Mormont and Maester Aemon waiting for them. 

Lord Mormont's brow furrowed as he noticed that Gale wasn't with them. "Where's Gale? Did something happen?" he inquired.

Qhorin sighed and responded with a troubled tone, "He's alive... probably." 

Maester Aemon chimed in, sensing a story behind their arrival. "Sit down and explain what happened," he urged, gesturing towards the available chairs.

Qhorin complied and began recounting their journey, covering all the significant events they had encountered along the way. He detailed the wildling party they had ambushed before Qhorin joined them at Craster's Keep, the horde of wights, and the white walker that Gale had vanquished.

Qhorin went on to describe their time at the Three-Eyed Raven's cave and the revelations about the creation of the white walkers, as well as Gale's powers. Finally, he narrated their encounter with the wildling party, their demands, and Gale's decision to go with them to initiate talks with Mance Rayder.

Maester Aemon couldn't hide his astonishment as he mused, "So the Children of the Forest still live... and they created the white walkers. It appears that the sins of the First Men continue to haunt us to this day," he said with a bitter smile.

Lord Mormont, however, was focused on more immediate concerns. "I'm sure this is all very fascinating to you, but we have more important matters to discuss," he stated, a sense of urgency in his voice. "This horn that the wildlings want, does anyone know where Gale hid it?" he asked.

Maester Aemon confirmed, "He brought it to me, asking if it was worth anything. It seemed like an odd trinket, but it had no immediate value... he left it with me, and I placed it in the library."

"Good, good," the Lord Commander acknowledged, nodding in satisfaction. "Now then, onto more urgent business... what are we dealing with? How many wights can we expect? How many wildlings have united under the King Beyond the Wall?" he inquired.

Benjen replied first with a grimace, "As far as wights go... there'll be too many to count. There are no shortages of corpses north of the Wall, and the Night King has the means to make more whenever he wishes."

Qhorin added to the assessment, "We don't have any solid information about the wildlings, but if Rayder manages to unite all the wildling clans, and it's safe to assume he will... we'll be dealing with tens of thousands of wildlings, maybe over one hundred thousand."

Lord Mormont leaned back in his chair, a deep furrow of concern etched across his weathered face. "On the other hand... we only have the wall and a few thousand rangers, despite our recruitment efforts," he mused, his frustration evident. 

"If we can convince King Robert to lend us aid, we might have enough men to barely fill the castles along the wall," he continued, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation. 

"Then we'll have a chance if the attackers spread... but if they focus on one castle, we'll be done for," he concluded, his fingers gently tapping the table, a silent reflection of the grave circumstances they faced.

Lord Mormont observed the nods of agreement and continued, "It seems that Gale was right... we can't afford to fight on two fronts, both of which we stand to lose." He scanned the faces of his trusted advisors, awaiting their response.

Maester Aemon was the first to reply, "I concur, Lord Commander." His old eyes held a glint of recognition that this was a dire but necessary path.

Qhorin spoke with determination, "Aye, we need to consider the bigger threat, and that's the Night King and his undead legions."

Benjen, equally resolute, added his voice, "I agree with Qhorin. Working with the wildlings might be our only hope of survival."

Edd remained silent, his reservations clear, but he knew that voicing his objections would not change the decision that had taken root in the minds of the others.

Lord Mormont nodded. "Then it's settled. We must send word to King Robert and Lord Stark-- plead for reinforcements. In the meantime, we should prepare for the worst. Increase patrolls outside the Wall and have as much rangers as possible watching the edges of the Huanted Forest!" 

...

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