Silent Ambush #12

In the thick of the Haunted Forest, hidden behind the towering trees, Gale, Benjen, and Edd lay in wait. Their eyes were fixed on three unsuspecting wildlings strolling down the clearing, their hushed conversation carrying through the still air.

"That Craster bastard's got a foot in both camps, but he's in neither. Greedy animal is playing us, and you all know it," the first wildling remarked with a scowl. Dressed in black and white furs, she held an axe with a menacing grip. 

"And those poor women... we should have cut him down before leaving..." She added with anger and sorrow in her voice.

The second wildling, a man with a broad, muscular build, carried a longsword on his hip and shook his head in agreement. "Craster will get what's coming to him." He said. 

"Maybe not today, not tomorrow, but soon enough. Crasters's as useful to the crows as he is to us, but once we're ready for the long march, he'll outlive his usefulness..." The seriousness in his tone was palpable.

The third wildling, a scrawny, bald man, bore distinctive line-shaped scars on his face, signifying his experiences beyond the Wall. "Aye, we've got bigger fish to fry, and our orders were clear—get the slimy bastard to help us, and that's it," he affirmed, his voice resolved.

Benjen frowned at their words, understanding the implications of their conversation. He turned to Gale and made a cutting gesture across his neck, a silent signal for action. 

Gale nodded in response, his eyes focused and determined. With swift and practiced movements, he notched an arrow and drew his bow, ready to respond to whatever threats might emerge from the wilderness.

With a rush of adrenaline, Gale's trained hand drew the bowstring, the taut tension of the string groaning in the still forest air. The swift, subtle sound alarmed the wildling party, but their reaction was too late. 

The arrow was already in flight, propelled with incredible speed, and it found its mark, piercing the thigh of the wildling woman. She let out a cry of pain, collapsing to the ground, and clutching her wounded leg.

Benjen and Edd took this as their cue and surged into action. The two rangers charged the remaining two wildlings, their longswords gleaming in the dim forest light, ready for combat.

Gale relinquished his bow, opting for a more personal approach. He sprinted toward the scrawny man, who swiftly reached into his fur cloak, drawing two short swords. As the distance between them closed, Gale made the first move, delivering a powerful downward swing. 

The wildling, quick to react, crossed his short swords over his head to block the strike.

Gale, showing no hesitation, unleashed a savage kick to the wildling's torso, causing him to stagger back and lose his balance, tumbling onto his back in the snow. 

Edd capitalized on this momentary advantage, lunging forward to strike, but the wildling displayed unexpected agility, rolling to the side, narrowly avoiding Edd's blade.

In a flash, the wildling grabbed a nearby rock and hurled it at Edd. The ranger reacted with a quick, evasive maneuver, dodging the projectile. The wildling, now on his feet, appeared relieved.

However, his relief was short-lived. From Gale's direction, a jagged obsidian knife hurtled through the air, striking its target with deadly accuracy. 

The knife buried itself in the wildling's forehead, and his lifeless body crumpled to the ground, his threats silenced.

As the lifeless body of the wildling lay bleeding on the pristine snow, Gale couldn't help but feel a twinge of discomfort. He turned his gaze away from the grim scene, focusing on Benjen, who had efficiently dispatched his opponent with a swift and lethal blow to the neck.

With a sigh, Gale sheathed his sword, signaling the end of the skirmish. "It's over," he said, shaking his head.

However, Edd, the seasoned ranger, wasn't ready to share Gale's sentiment. He frowned, his gaze fixed on the wildling woman who lay in the snow, her eyes filled with animosity, locked onto their group. 

"Not by a long shot," he muttered, his voice carrying a sense of wary tension. "One of them wildlings is still breathing," he pointed out, his own expression filled with disdain. 

"The fight is over. She can't even stand," Gale argued, firm in refusing to execute a helpless opponent. 

Edd, however, seemed far less inclined to mercy. "What? Don't tell me you pity these savages?" he snapped, his eyes narrowing with annoyance. "She'd kill you without hesitation if the roles were reversed," he added, his face twisted in a scowl.

Gale's response was calm and measured. "Maybe," he admitted. "But everyone has their lines, and I draw mine at cold-blooded executions."

Edd bristled, his voice strained. "Someone ought to have you executed for sympathizing with these goat-fuckers!" he retorted, his grip tightening over his sword. 

"Do you have any idea how many of our brothers were killed by them? By this one in particular," he added, his eyes locked onto the defiant wildling woman, who, despite her grievous injury, continued to stare back at them with an unbroken spirit.

Benjen stepped between Gale and Edd, intent on quelling their growing tension. "That's enough from both of you," he firmly stated. 

"It doesn't matter what she did to begin with. With a wound like that, she won't make it far even if we let her go," The first ranger explained, casting a sympathetic look at the injured wildling woman. 

Her defiant glare remained steadfast, and she responded by merely spitting on the snowy ground.

Benjen let out a sigh at her resistance. "You can talk, can't you? I can make it easier for you, painless even. It's your choice," he offered, his tone revealing a hint of apathy. 

The woman scowled, her reply laced with disdain. "I'd rather be eaten alive by wolves than be executed by some kneelers. Be less shameful that way," she retorted.

"Suit yourself," Benjen replied with a nod. "Come on. We still have a long way to go," he added, turning around and walking away, signaling for Gale and Edd to follow him. Edd cast one last hateful glance in the direction of the wildling woman before reluctantly complying.

Gale, on the other hand, regarded her with a complex expression. He seemed on the verge of saying something but ultimately decided against it, realizing that no words could make the situation better. 

Instead, he reached into his cloak and pulled out a piece of bread and some dried meat, wrapped in a black cloth. Placing it on the ground within her reach, he gave the woman a lingering look before turning and joining Benjen's departing figure.

"Fucking Southerners... soft as a baby's bum and dumb as goats..." The woman spat out as she watched Gale leave. 

...

Craster's Keep, perched upon a modest hill, defied the expectations that its name might suggest. It was not a true fortress but rather a log hall encircled by an earthen dike, flanked by a sheepfold, pigsty, and a sizeable midden heap. 

The hall itself, although large, could only accommodate a few dozen occupants at most. As for its lord and master, Craster, he was a burly and imposing figure with a shock of gray hair, waiting at the entrance with a torch in hand as the three Night's Watchmen approached his dwelling.

"And what do we have here? Frozen crows, eh?" Craster said with a hint of amusement as his gaze locked with Benjen's.

Benjen responded with an unyielding expression. "We'll be making use of your keep, Craster. Not sure for how long," he stated, cutting straight to the point without the pleasantries the occasion might have warranted.

"Will you now? And what gave you that idea?" Craster's eyes narrowed in annoyance. 

Benjen could feel the tension rising but kept his emotions in check. He wasn't fond of the wildling savage to begin with, but he knew better than to let his irritation get the better of him. The Night Watched needed Craster's services, after all. 

"The Lord Commander sends his regards," Benjen announced as he reached into his cloak and produced a conspicuously expensive bottle of alcohol, dropping it onto the snowy ground.

Craster's eyes brightened at the sight of the bottle, and his expression softened. "Well, why didn't you just say so from the start?" he said with a sly smirk. "You can go in, but I see two new faces..." He turned his gaze to Gale and Edd. "They'll need a talking to before going in," he added.

Benjen inwardly sighed but remained silent. He gave a nod to his two fellow travelers before entering the keep.

"Now then, little crows," Craster began, directing his attention to Gale and Edd, "I'm a generous man. I tolerate your kind, but if you want to stay under my roof, you'll have to follow my rules..."

...

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