Part 4

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***

A few days after the alliance was made, Jon Snow and Harald Karstark travelled to the Wildling camp, accompanied by soldiers. The purpose of the trip was twofold: first, Jon wanted to see if Tormund had done his job and, if not, to correct it; second, Jon needed to introduce his two main allies to each other, to establish a dialogue to minimize future conflicts between them.

The camp greeted them with noise, the laughter of children, and the usual bustle of a settled place. Men checked weapons, women mended clothes, children amused themselves as best they could. Life on this side of the Wall was new to them, but the Free Folk were quickly becoming accustomed to it. It was only the appearance of the armed riders that made the wildlings drop what they were doing and draw their weapons closer, just in case. They still remembered what Stannis's cavalry had done when they had suddenly attacked their position.

- It's an unusual feeling, isn't it? - Jon asked, watching Carstark. The Lord of Carhold was visibly nervous, glancing around and occasionally clutching the hilt of his sword.

- It's a bit unnerving,' Harald admitted. - I never thought I'd find myself in a wildling camp, even if accompanied by soldiers.

- I've been worse,' Snow admitted, and, seeing the bewilderment on the faces of those around him, explained. - I was alone, beyond the Wall, and I lied to the Wildlings about wanting to be one of them. If they'd realised I was leading them around, the Bone Lord, one of the chiefs of the Free Folk, would have made jewellery out of my bones.

- What were you doing among them? - Karstark asked, surprised at what he had heard.

- Spying,' John answered briefly, and rode on.

The wildlings, who had been wary of the riders before, finally recognised one of them as Snow, and then calmed down. One of the children, also recognising him, cried out:

- 'The Lord Raven has come!

When Jon heard that, he smiled. That was why he loved the Free Folk, for their simplicity and their easy attitude to life. They didn't care if they were facing a king or a homeless peasant - to the Wildlings, all were equal. Knowing the pride of many lords, Snow had warned Karstark of these nuances beforehand so that there would be no misunderstandings later.

- Why do they look at you like that? - Ser Davos asked, riding beside Jon.

- I have no idea,' Snow admitted, also noticing the wildlings' stares. Some of them looked at him as if he were some kind of deity in a mortal body, and Jon didn't like those looks.

Had Tormund really started flapping his tongue and told the wildlings about his resurrection? Did he not realise that such a story would raise a lot of unanswered questions, and then a lot of problems? Before he left, John had asked Tormund to keep his mouth shut, but the problem was that Tormund was just that, Tormund, a talker and a braggart, easier to kill than to silence. Remembering the stories, usually lewd, that Tormund had told him, Jon couldn't help but smile.

Snow saw the Wildling leader at once: he had gathered the tribal leaders around him and was telling them something. Judging by the bursts of laughter, it was funny and probably vulgar. Tormund had no other stories to tell.

- Look who's here! - shouted the red-haired bearded man as soon as he saw John. - The stubbornest son of a bitch I've ever seen! Who have you brought here?!

- Why are you shouting, Tormund? - Snow asked, getting off his horse. The other riders followed suit. - Did your bear run away from you again?

The answer was an explosion of laughter, and Tormund was the first to laugh. After laughing out loud, the Wildling chiefs stood up and came closer to get a good look at their guests. They gazed at the soldiers' armour and weapons, clucking their tongues in envy. Only a few of the Free Folk could boast steel weapons, while others used spears and axes of stone or bone.

- Tormund, this is Harald Karstark, Lord of Carhold and a blood kinsman of the Starks. I was able to convince him that our alliance is necessary if we are to survive. Lord Karstark, this is Tormund the Giant Death, once the right-hand man of Mance Rayder. I first fought against him on the Wall, and then we fought shoulder to shoulder in the Harsh House against the White Walkers.

The two warriors scrutinised each other, and the wildlings froze, waiting for their leader's reaction. The Free Folk realised that the days of relatively carefree life beyond the Wall were over, and it was time to negotiate, and there was a man willing to help them. Though Jon Snow was a raven, the wildlings were grateful for his help-if he had left them behind the Wall, as the raven officers wanted, the Free Folk would have been doomed.

Harald Karstark took the first step, strangely enough, and held out his hand to Tormund, surprising John.

- I never thought I'd shake hands with a wildling,' Karstark said.

- I never thought I'd shake hands with a southerner, even if he calls himself a northerner,' he said, nodding at John. 'He's persuasive, isn't he?

- Yes, I'll give him that,' Karstark agreed. - Jon Snow told me about the battle at the Harsh House. It takes great courage to face an army of the dead.

- Soon everyone who wants to survive will need it,' Tormund replied, then turned to Jon. - The Free Folk are ready to fight, two thousand warriors will follow you. More would have gone, but you refused to take the women, and you made them very angry. Expect a swift reprisal.

- Do I not know how brave and desperate your women are, Tormund? - Jon said in a voice that sounded cheerful, but the wildling could hear the sadness in it. - But this will be a battle they are unprepared for. Long spears, a wall of shields, heavy cavalry. They will be trampled and not even noticed. It's enough that we risk our lives. If the women die, we can forget about any hope for the future, we'll be extinct.

- What then? - Tormund asked. - Who else is with us?

- We've sent messengers to the other houses of the North,' said Karstark, 'and the first to respond were the Mormonts.

The wildlings grumbled at that name. They associated the name Mormont with Gior Mormont, the penultimate Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, and they hated the Old Bear, rejoicing in his death. They had no doubt that, unlike Jon Snow, Mormont would have left them to die beyond the Wall, for their mutual hatred was too deep.

- Lyanna Mormont, Lady of Bear Island, is a loyal vassal of the Starks,' Jon explained, seeing the displeasure in the crowd. - She had no hesitation in sending Stannis Baratheon away when he demanded a vassal oath from her. It would be foolish to ignore such an ally. Besides, Tormund,' a smile slid across Snow's lips, 'you seem to like bears, and Lyanna Mormont is a little bear. Isn't she your daughter, by the way? I thought you said something like that.

The people laughed, while Tormund's mouth dropped open at the audacity of it. The wildling liked to mock others himself, but this was the first time he'd ever been mocked like this. Seeing that the Wildlings agreed with him, albeit grudgingly, Jon summed up:

- 'That's settled, then.

Later, as darkness fell and the people gathered around the great fires, Ser Davos asked Tormund why the Wildlings were reacting so strangely to Jon's presence. Indeed, the Free Folk had made no secret of their curiosity, but now they were staring at Snow strangely, as if they were expecting something from him. Karstark also noticed the wildlings' undue scrutiny of Snow, but he did not ask questions. Not yet.

- They're wondering if they can kill you now and if you're a Wych,' Tormund said honestly.

- You did tell them,' John said grudgingly.

- How else could you persuade them to follow you? - Tormund asked. - Besides, your rising from the dead has been seen by many. Rumours about you started as soon as we reached the camp.

John thought about it and realised that Tormund was right. Sooner or later, those in Castle Black would start talking, and the rumour mill would be started without any way of stopping it. In this case, Tormund had used the resurrection story to persuade the Wildlings to side with Snow, so it was foolish to accuse him of anything.

- Karstark promised to give us proper weapons and armour,' Tormund said, sinking his teeth into the roast chicken. - Unless he's lying, of course.

- There's no point in him lying,' John replied. - By siding with us, Karstark has turned against Bolton, and that's an act the bastard won't forgive.

- Will you speak to the Ambers? - Tormund asked, wiping the grease from his lips.

- No,' he replied stiffly. - Lord Karstark told Sansa and me that Jon Amber had given our brother Rickon to Ramsay Bolton, even though he had taken him in before and promised him safety. For this, Sansa has promised to hang Little Jon, and I agree with her. If Amber by some miracle survives this battle, he'll regret it - I'll turn him inside out.

- What will you do with the others?

- I don't know yet,' John admitted. - We'll see.

Tormund shrugged, concentrating on the chicken while Snow stared at the fire. But in that moment he saw another fire, a flame that could turn cities to ash. The first time he'd seen it was a moment before he'd nearly had his head blown off just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. And John hadn't been able to forget him since. Remembering that the best remedy against wychs was fire, Snow regretted not having a couple of dragons on hand. The same Durnevir could make a mess of the dead, and since the dragon was effectively immortal, it could be used time after time without the risk of losing it foolishly. But the ancient dragon was trapped in Oblivion, in another world, or wherever Nirn is now?

But wasn't Dovakin himself trapped in Oblivion, in Hermeus Mora's plan? Yet he was able to break out of it and find himself here, albeit in a new body. So was there a slim chance that Dûrnevir might once again answer his call to unleash his might upon Snow's enemies? The thought so captivated Jon that he didn't immediately notice that he had become the object of quite a bit of scrutiny himself. Not the kind he was beginning to get used to, but the kind that Ygritte had once shown.

On the other side of the fire, across from John, sat a beautiful woman, her blonde hair in a braid slung over her shoulder. Slender, full-chested, she looked at Snow with her pale grey eyes, which reflected the flames of the fire.

- Had you noticed at last? I thought it would be another year before you opened your eyes.

- Shut up, Tormund,' John grumbled. - Or better yet, tell me who it is.

- Vel,' the wildling replied shortly.

- Are you kidding me? It doesn't mean anything to me.

- Dalla's younger sister,' Tormund said, mundanely.

- Oh, that makes sense now,' Jon shook his head. It was no use getting angry with the wildling.

- Dalla is Mance's wife.

Snow turned and stared at Tormund in surprise. The bearded man acted as if nothing had happened.

- What are you staring at?

- Mance had a wife?! - John exclaimed.

- Why shouldn't he? - Tormund wondered. - Mance was a man, not a castrato. Of course he had a wife.

- Why is this the first I've heard of it?

- Did you ask? Were you interested in anyone other than Ygritte at the time? - Seeing John's expression darken at the mention of the girl, the wildling remarked. - Life didn't stop with her death, lad. Yes, it hurts, but if you think Ygritte would have liked your behaviour, you are gravely mistaken. You weren't her first, and if you had died that day, you wouldn't have been her last. Yes, she wouldn't have let anyone near her anytime soon, but sooner or later that moment would have come, because life goes on.

- That's easy to say,' Snow replied. - I'm not even sure my life belongs to me, because I don't even know why I can breathe.

- You know, lad,' Tormund spat out a chicken bone, 'you're a fine warrior, but you're still an impenetrable fool. You're alive, and the rest doesn't matter. Take what you're given, it'll be too late.

- What are you offering me? - John asked. - Forget your vows?

- You can tell the story of your vows to someone else. I remember you and Ygritte screaming and moaning, and I don't see you remembering anything. So stop playing dumb, or I might believe it. You're not the same kid who first came to camp, and if you don't think anyone notices, you're an idiot.

John's eyes narrowed and his mouth turned into a hard line. At that moment, the young man began to seem much older than his age.

- Death has changed you, boy,' Tormund said quietly. - You saw something on the other side. Am I right? And that something had a profound effect on you. You've started to say things that you've never said before. You're more persuasive and much more confident than you used to be. I noticed it, and Davos noticed it, but just because we're silent doesn't mean we're blind.

Snow remained silent as he listened to the wildling's words. Well, something like this was to be expected, someone was bound to notice the change in the young man. For a moment, Jon noticed that he was even relieved by the confession. At last he said:

- Yes, you're right, Tormund. I did see something there. If you had seen it, you too would have changed and stopped recognising yourself.

- What did you see? - The wildling stepped forward, staring intently into John's face. Was it just him, or did the firelight in his eyes take on a life of its own?

- You'll know soon enough,' Jon promised him, 'and so will the others. I assure you that I will not drive you to slaughter. No, we will win. Now, I'm sorry, but I can't say any more. It's still early.

- Do you want to surprise me? - Tormund grinned slyly.

- Something like that,' Snow nodded. - For our enemies. I can assure you they will not like it very much.

- I look forward to it,' Tormund replied. - Speaking of Vel. She's not the kind of woman who would just sit and wait. She's a Free People, after all, and we're used to getting what we want when we want it. Don't you know that?

Jon glanced again at Vel, who was watching the conversation between the wildling and the sentinel. Something told Snow that Tormund's warning would come true soon enough. After all, Jon did know what the women of the Free Folk were like. Knew too well, and he didn't regret it one bit.