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Ambush

The next morning Blake left his cabin earlier than usual, to check if the Night's Watch had tried anything during the night.

Despite the coolness of the morning and that the sun had not begun to rise, he walked wearing a thin wool shirt and leather pants.

"Any movement from the Night's Watch?"

There were two warriors standing guard in the center of the tribe, and Blake asked them directly.

"They haven't been out or done anything during the night."

Blake nodded, continuing his tour of the tribe's gates and stables.

"No more Night's Watch has been seen in the vicinity all night."

"The storms haven't knocked down the stables so the cattle are fine, that Night's Watch they left in one of the cabins has done nothing but sleep."

Blake got the answers he needed, and seeing that it was beginning to get light, went to dress Ygritte, followed by him tending to the tribe's breakfast.

He had gotten the tribesmen used to getting up early, eating a hot meal, and getting to work, it was the best way to make the time pay off in the desolate north.

After nearly everyone had eaten and set about their chores, Blake watched as the eight Night's Watch, fully dressed and armed, emerged from their assigned cabin.

"Lords, you awake in fine weather, breakfast is ready."

The Night's Watch, with Lord Jeor Mormont at their head, walked amid looks of fear and anger from the tribesmen, to where Blake stood.

"It's certainly good timing, in your tribe they seem to wake up early and with more energy than my scouts at Castle Black."

Blake poured the fish and mushroom stew along with a glass of milk, replying.

"They need to get up early if they want to eat while the food is still warm. And they'll need it to last until sundown in the cold north, especially the hunters who will be heading out shortly to the Haunted Forest and the Milkwater River."

Blake finished serving the food to the Night's Watch, closed the huge pit where he kept the stew, and spoke again to Lord Jeor Mormont.

"In our tribe, you need to work and contribute to eat. On the first day, you were offered food, milk, and a place to sleep, with furs to wrap yourselves in, but that was all because of our alliance with Shadow Tower. But if you want to continue to stay within the tribe, you will have to help with hunting, foraging for wood from the forest, or in any case helping in the workshop. I hope you understand."

The Night's Watch sat on wooden stumps Blake had placed in the center of the tribe.

"Easy boy, we know how hard it is to get food beyond the great wall, we'll be leaving in an hour."

Blake nodded to the old bear.

"This stew tastes great, one piece of bread is all it takes to make it equal to what they serve at the best inns in King's Landing."

"I'm glad you like it, Ser Jaremy, although we have traded flour from Shadow Tower, and can make bread, it hardens so quickly because of the cold weather that it is very difficult to eat, so we use the flour to thicken the stew."

Blake responded to the gentleman's words calmly.

What he was saying was true, Blake had even worked on a sourdough sourdough, so that the bread would be soft even when chilled, the problem was that the cold north would eventually leave the bread as hard as a rock.

"Tell me about it, Blake, this is better than a lot of Shadow Tower dishes."

Qhorin looked with some distaste at Ser Jeremy and gave Blake a thumbs up.

"All are welcome in the black axe tribe as long as they are willing to work to earn their keep."

Blake noticed some wary and even frightened looks from the scouts, not understanding why.

Was it that scary for these people?

As Blake thought about working a little more on his facial expressions as he tried to talk to the Night's Watch, he watched as a warrior ran from the west entrance toward his position.

"Blake, scouts have spotted the Magnar's arrival, looks like he took an attack on the way!"

Blake jumped from his position at the words and began shouting orders to organize Oswin's arrival as soon as possible.

"Do you know how many wounded they are?! How is my father?!"

Blake was about to head for the west gate with most of the warriors when he stopped, remembering the presence of the Night's Watch.

"I'm sorry Lords, you'd better leave at this time, there seems to have been a problem with my father, I won't be able to secure your lives if you don't leave now. Don't come back until we send the next caravan to Shadow Tower!"

Blake's words came out in a flurry as he led him away, and without waiting for a response from the Night's Watch, he went out to check on his father.

"By the horses!"

Lord Jeor Mormont watched as the tribe filled with murmurs and movement. Without waiting another second he gave the order, and they all marched toward the stables, galloping out of the tribe.

Blake soon came upon the caravan, there were several wounded men, but Oswin was at the head carrying a cart with his bare hands.

"Father!"

Blake and all the warriors rushed to help them reach the tribe. Blake noticed that at least twenty men were missing.

"Bring the medicine man to see the men and prepare more stew!"

Blake gave orders calming the situation and tending to the newly stricken.

When the chaos in the tribe had subsided, he finally walked over to Oswin offering him a skin of wine.

"What happened, was it Thenn's men?"

Blake saw on Oswin's left arm, right where armor was missing, there was a protruding piece of the arrow that Oswin had broken off, leaving the tip inside.

"No, the business with Thenn went well, it was the damned Ice-river clans, they saw us leaving the tribe, and waited for us in ambush."

Oswin squeezed the pelt with his right hand, draining all the liquid in one gulp.

"They ran away from the ambush?"

Blake treated Oswin's wound himself. The healer looked busy with all the other warriors. Cleaning, disinfecting and finally cauterizing.

"Of course not, we killed them all!"

Oswin threw his skin to the floor as he shouted the words.

"But I lost 22 brothers to those bastards!"

Oswin was truly enraged, but still fatigue dominated his body.

"Any wounds besides the arrow?"

Blake was unfazed by Oswin's outburst and asked the question.

"Just that, but make sure Wymond is okay, he had my back the whole fight and took a couple of arrows for me. He lost consciousness along the way."

Oswin put his hand on Blake's shoulder saying these words and looking him in the face.

Blake noticed deep dark circles under his eyes, they had run here without rest for a couple of days to avoid receiving another attack.

"Fine, I'll take care of the tribesmen, rest for today."

Blake looked into Oswin's eyes as well, assuring him that he would take care of it. He then looked among the survivors for his father's women, they had departed along with the caravan.

He almost thought they were both dead when he recognized one, lying in one of the wagons.

"Willa!"

Blake shouted, he could see no wounds on his body, at least not visible ones. He called again and Willa awoke, realizing they had already reached the tribe.

"Come, help me with my father!"

Willa ran, and with both Blake on one side and Willa on the other, they carried Oswin to their cabin.

"What exactly happened?"

On the way, Blake asked Willa.

Willa was a dark-skinned spear woman, half a little shorter than Oswin, but she was strong, just somewhat naive.

"We were ambushed from a hill, by at least thirty men, with bows and arrows. Oswin ordered the boys to take cover behind the wagons, and advanced with the warriors up the hill to kill the Ice-river clansmen."

Blake nodded, that was why Oswin had given the attack order, it would have been impossible for them to escape that situation, but to lose so many men... The damage was too great.

"We lost part of the charge?"

Willa shook her head quickly.

"Oswin said the load was indispensable to the tribe's survival, everyone, including the warriors, shared the load as we ran for the last two days."

Blake didn't know what to think about his father's decision... The load was very important, the whole tribe had worked for at least half a year to form this huge caravan to Thenn, so maybe Oswin's decision was the right one, but if Oswin died, the problems would only get worse, it would have been best to leave some of the load behind.

Blake laid his father down in the cabin, removing all the armor and clothing with Willa's help. There were some bruises, but the bones didn't appear to be broken, nor were there any more open wounds.

"Take care of him, I'll send someone with food."

Blake left back to the tribe center, ordering to take all the wounded to their huts, since, they could not receive treatments at the same time.

Blake ordered all the garlic and ginger to be put into the stew. Many of the wounds had become infected, and this would help treat some of the infections.

He also brought all the stored wine, as the wounds were mostly arrow wounds, and they needed to open up, cut away infected or necrotic flesh, and cauterize.

The first he attended to was Wymond himself, whose wife and younger children surrounded him.

"Dean, Wren, take Wymond to his cabin too!"

Blake accompanied them with a chest where he kept the tools with which he had just treated Oswin himself.

"Now beat it, only Dean can stay, I need your help."

Wymond's cabin was large, but with all his children it seemed small.

"Blake, please heal my father!"

Wren tapped Blake's shoulder and said seriously, he had the same look as Oswin.

Blake gave him a nod, and Wren walked out without another word.

Blake removed the armor from Wymond's body revealing four wounds in total.

"Dip a wool cloth in cold water and place it on his forehead, you have to control the fever or he could end up a stupid person."

Blake noticed how Wymond was sweating from the fever, and gave the first order to Dean.

"Okay, leave it to me!"

Now would come the hard part, Wymond's wounds had become infected, he didn't bleed out on the way because they left the arrowheads inside him.

Blake removed the arrows and carefully checked to see if bits of metal, wood, or stone had been left inside.

The arrows were bone-tipped and left no debris inside, so Blake placed the wine to boil and poured it into the wounds.

"AAAHHHHHHHH!"

Wymond woke up screaming causing Blake and Dean to jump on him to control him.

"Father, we are healing your wounds, you must not move!"

Wymond collapsed exhausted in just a few seconds, he didn't have much strength left.

Blake did the same with all the wounds and brought the knife to a boil to cauterize them immediately.

"SHHHH!"

The sound of burning flesh was heard again inside the hut, and Wymond let out another shriek.

When he finished, Blake reached for a vinegar skin he had brought from his lab to treat the burns.

"You won't use your hands?!"

As Blake was about to take the vinegar, his hand was held by Dean, who looked at him with frightened eyes.

"No, I'd better not."

Blake removed his hand and bathed the wounds with vinegar before bandaging them.

"Why not! My father could die!"

Blake shook his head.

"It's dangerous, it's better not to."

Before Blake could bandage the wound, Dean held his hands again.

"Blake, please, my father can't die!"

Blake tried to pull his hands away again, but Dean held him tight and wouldn't let go.

"Let go of me you fool!"

Since Dean wouldn't let go, Blake looked at the boy's face noticing tears falling from his cheeks.

Blake cursed realizing Dean wouldn't let go, giving up.

"Fine, let go now!"

Blake pulled his hands away roughly noticing Dean's hands had stiffened.

"Put your hands in water before they freeze, silly boy!"

Dean heeded Blake's words, dipping his hands into the warm water Blake had used to clean Wymond's wounds before putting the scalding wine on them.

Sighing, Blake placed his hands over Wymond's burns, until the skin hardened, taking on that dark appearance.

"This is bad..."

Blake didn't like doing this at all, it gave him a very bad feeling, like when he stole some coins from his mother's purse when he was very young. He promised himself not to do it to any other member of the tribe, even if they died.

"There, now take care of your father, keep placing wet clothes on his forehead."

Blake put away all the instruments, heading towards the next hut, there were many more wounded.