Chapter 11

The raid on the fan lands that Vel had participated in had been a failure from the word "not at all". To put it bluntly, there was no raid at all. On the third day of their journey along the west coast along the Northern Mountains, they were attacked by worshippers. The Southerners slaughtered almost everyone, leaving only the girl herself and the other women in the squad alive. Out of forty men, six survived. All the clothes were taken from the dead, and the survivors were loaded onto a ship. The Raid managed to avoid encounters with the mountain clans, but they were caught by sea worshippers, ironically.

After weeks in the hold, they were given to a mercenary squad as a reward. Well, at least they were no longer shaken by the constant traveling by sea. The fate of her companions was unenviable. They were all raped as soon as they were brought into the camp. Vel was going to be sold to the slave traders, as the girl realized that the mercenaries could get a lot of gold for her, and there were enough women for entertainment.

However, the plans of the gang leader did not stop one particularly brazen bandit. He intended to have fun with the girl himself, and it ended with her cutting off his penis with a hidden piece of obsidian, and then stabbed him. It wasn't hard: the drunken impudent didn't expect any resistance. The guy squealed so much that the others came running to them at once. They wanted to punish the girl, but the leader of the bandits said that the fool had paid for himself, and it was not worth it to spoil the goods before selling them, they would get less money.

The leader of the gang was not unreasonable, but he had another weakness - alcohol. The man got drunk quickly, and his tongue was unleashed with the same speed, so he talked about everything, with everyone and without a word. After a couple of days even the wildlings knew of the gang's plans.

Otherwise, the rest of the stay in the camp was boring and routine. Mostly she had to sit in a cage and listen to her companions being raped. Sometimes they were fed some obscure junk food that tasted disgusting, but there was no choice.

Outlaws came and went from the camp, and in recent days they'd even started bringing other women into the camp. Five wildling women couldn't satisfy the entertainment needs of the entire camp, especially when all the gangs got together, as they had the last couple days. Vel had overheard that they would be moving out soon, just a day from now. But that didn't happen. During the night, the camp was attacked and all the mercenaries were killed. The women worshippers were immediately freed and fed. The wildlings did not receive a similar fate, only scornful looks and snorts awaited them.

Later that night, the worshippers came to her cage.

***

After the interrogation of the bandits, it was time to deal with the captives. There were ten of them in all. The peasant women were easily recognized, despite the days they had spent in captivity. They were not dressed in rough hides and looked at the soldiers with gratitude, not like a cornered animal. Their faces, however, were equally dirty and their hair tangled.

The Northmen were released and fed. The women of the squad tried to calm them down and bring them to their senses. So far not very successfully, the peasant women went from extreme to extreme. They cried, then laughed hysterically, sometimes staring at one point with a detached look.

The Wildlings refused to talk to Jon, much less help. They had endured their time in captivity more stoically, but they did not trust even the murderers of their rapists, and there was no reason to trust them. The soldiers reported that there was another prisoner, she was kept separate from the others, her clothes were a little better, the girl was clearly not used. Perhaps she was a little higher in the hierarchy, and by convincing her it would be possible to gain the support of the others. But that was just a guess.

Snow walked toward the cage with Dacey and a couple of soldiers. The rest of the soldiers were tidying up the camp. The corpses of the mercenaries were taken outside the camp, their clothes confiscated, their pockets searched for trophies. The tents were put up again. It was better to sleep in them than in the open air, but it was necessary to move them where there was less blood. In a couple of tents they found sacks full of copper coins, obviously taken from the villages. Lyra was giving commands to the soldiers and assigning sentries. John remembered the familiar bustle of a military campaign.

They reached the cage quickly. A blonde girl sat in it, and for a moment John was stunned by her beauty, but after a poke from Dacey, he quickly came to his senses. There was indeed something to hold his gaze on. The girl had a beautiful face, too beautiful for a wildling, her cheekbones high, her teeth straight and her eyes pale gray. Her figure was slender, but her breasts were too large for an unborn girl and clearly visible even through her clothes. Jon caught himself thinking that this girl was even prettier than Katelyn Tully.

The cage was large enough to hold a dozen people. Snow stepped inside and sat down across from the wildling. Daisy stayed near the cage door: John was a better negotiator than she was, after all. The soldier, who had a crossbow, aimed it at the wildling, which made her tense, but she tried not to show it.

- Are you seeking revenge, wildling? - John turned to Vel.

- Right now I want to eat and sleep in something other than my own shit," she snapped.

Snow and Dacey grinned, and then Mormont ordered a soldier to bring the three of them something to eat. Jon led Vel under his arm toward one of the fires. The girl was looked at incredulously by everyone else in the camp. Dinner was modest: dried meat, dried fish, almost stale bread, and water, the only way to eat the last of the food. Food was brought to the rest of the wildlings, and for the first time in a long time they ate relatively normally. Jon continued his quiet conversation.

- So, you want us to help you kill the rest of the bandits?

- Roughly speaking, yes.

- We're free women, and we don't submit to worshipers," the girl said defiantly.

- Free, huh? - Snow pointed at the cage with his gaze, and Dacey jumped in the palm of her hand.

- We may be prisoners, but we're free. From your silly oaths, that's for sure.

- That doesn't stop you from being prisoners. And helping us is a better fate than being killed.

- Murdered?

- Northern lords kill wildlings when they invade their lands. Or are you just lost and don't know how you ended up south of the Wall?

- We've lived here for centuries. It's our land too. More so than yours or that girl's.

- Why don't we just kill them? We don't have time to deal with them anyway," Dacey suggested, to which Vel snorted.

- My father is Lord Stark, and that wench comes from House Mormont. We have the blood of the First Men in our veins, as you do. And the men who attacked your party are definitely not descended from them. So let's kill them, and your men can have their revenge, since we didn't give them that opportunity today.

- And then what happens?

- Then what happens?

- If I agree and we help you, if we defeat your enemies. Then what happens?

- You will be kept alive. We can't let you go and wander the north. You will plunder, even if you are killed for it sooner or later. Enough innocent northerners have already died in the last few days, we don't need more deaths.

- Why don't you just kill me and the others now?

- You shared a meal with us, the law of hospitality is sacred, and I will not break it, even if the "guest" is a savage.

- Offer terms.

- Help us and you will be allowed to stay on this side of the Wall, on Bear Island. First you will be given work and watched. If you show loyalty and agree to follow our laws, you will become full subjects of the north.

- Worshipers!?

- Living worshippers or dead free women, the choice is yours. You will be returned to the cage with the others, you will have time to decide.

- How long?

- Day: next morning we will leave camp and either take you with us or leave your cold bodies here.

- Fucking southerners," was all Vel hissed as she was led away.

John and Dacey left, and Vel was led to the cage with her companions. The women had been cleaned, and the women had been given clean clothes to wear, even looking with some envy at the peasant women who walked freely around the camp and the other women in armor. They could sleep in the cage without fear of waking up covered in shit. It was going to be a long conversation. Not far from the cage there was a soldier on duty at all times, and the sentries had taken their posts. There was no telling what the savages might think. The rest of the camp was asleep within the hour. John waited until everyone was asleep and went to treat the wounded soldiers.

***

Alysanne Mormont had spent much of the last few days meeting and talking with the followers of the Seven. They had been very insolent and rude, and kept making more ridiculous demands than any other. My hands itched to grab an axe and smash a couple of heads, but luckily I remembered the conversation I'd had with John before he left.

It was like this:

- Alisana.

- Yes?

- I need you to continue communicating with the septons for me.

- Why? It's easier to send them away.

- They obviously don't want to leave the island of their own free will just yet.

- They won't argue with my axe. I'm sick of these insolent upstarts.

- Exactly. They're trying to fuck us up so there'll be bloodshed or we'll insult them.

- Why?

- Their leader's been acting too brazen. It's an obvious provocation, and if we respond to it, it'll be the perfect excuse for the Church of the Seven to declare House Mormont enemies of the faith.

- What's it to us? We're fine without them, the faith has no influence in the North.

- Yes, but it's enormous in the Outlands and much weaker in the Western Lands. And it's those two kingdoms that fill our granaries with grain, and grain fills them much faster than rice from Volantis. The Southern Lords will not want to anger the Church and may stop trading with us. And winter is coming.

- Do you think someone wants to hurt us?

- I don't rule out the possibility. Maybe someone wants to keep the North from gaining ground on the West Coast. Maybe they don't want us to buy grain from Prostor and send more ships to Lannisport because the Church doesn't have as much influence there. Or maybe Prostor's vintners don't like how popular our honey is. There are many other possibilities, but one thing is certain, the churchmen on the island are waiting for us to do something stupid, and that stupidity will backfire on us.

- Okay, I get it. Talk to the septons and don't get provoked.

- And keep Lady Mage away from them," John smiled.

Now Alisana sat in the main hall of the manor, waiting for news. Anything, from anyone. The ship that had been sent after the wildlings was patrolling the eastern side of Cape Sea Dragon, and Jon and her sisters were hunting for outlaws in the forests. The girl was worried about her sisters, even though it wasn't the first time the older of the two had gone on an outing, but Lyra had little combat experience.

She was brought out of her thoughts by the clawing of a bird's claws on the table and the beak of a raven that tapped her on the palm of her hand. It was Claw, the raven that was always with Jon Snow. On his paw was a scroll with the seal of House Glover affixed to it. Alisana took the scroll and began to read the lines. Five minutes later, she gave an order:

- Prepare all warships in the harbor for departure!

***

After a day of rest at the camp, the islanders moved out to meet the brigands' employer, and the wildlings agreed to help. Jon was under no illusions and assumed they would try to escape. Their spears were needed in battle, and the rendezvous point was only a five-hour hike away. If they tried to escape at that point, they would die almost immediately. The islanders are outnumbered, and have dogs and crossbows. They will help, and if they do, Snow will keep his word. Even if he has to fight a little with Mage, Jorah, and Alisan. He had argued with Dacey yesterday.

They walked quickly enough and soon came to the agreed place. Before leaving, some of the group changed into mercenary clothes. Along the way, John learned the name of a beautiful wildling. Arguments and verbal altercations with her were quite amusing and were a great distraction on the journey. The wildling women also talked with the Mormont soldiers and often made vulgar jokes.

The rendezvous point was a small localized bay, sheltered from the sea by rocks. They wouldn't have found it if they didn't have specific directions on how to get there. Surely this place had long been favored by smugglers. A long, low-sided ship would be able to get here almost unnoticed.

The squad began to set up camp, the riflemen looking for convenient positions and shelter, and John and Dacey went to make a fire at the indicated spot. That way, when the hirer saw the signal, he would be sure that the mercenaries had arrived and would come out to meet them. Some of the soldiers hid in their tents.

The hirer with three dozen guards arrived a few hours later. They landed near the shore and staggered towards the camp. The ship bore a rectangular sail of faded red with the image of a black battle horn. "Goodbrazers, fucking ironborn again," John thought. Well, the denouement was closer than ever.

Snow sat in the center of the camp, by the fire, with Vel, who sat with her back to the new arrivals, unrecognizable as a woman. The Ironborn leader was two dozen paces ahead of his team. There were two guards in close proximity to him. He seemed to suspect something wrong, but he thought he was imagining things.

- Where's your commanding officer? - He turned to John.

- If you mean the man who hacked and pillaged the Northmen, he's probably being eaten by forest wolves," John grinned.

Goodbrather's eyes widened in disbelief. He was about to scream. The next events happened almost simultaneously. Crossbow bolts whizzed by, and two guards fell dead. One was hit in the head, the other in the chest. Mormont warriors jumped out of their tents, and the Ironborn drew their weapons. Goodbrather lay on the ground, knocked down, with a knife at his throat.

- Order them to drop their weapons if you want to live! - John hissed.

It wasn't necessary. Each side had a roughly equal number of fighters, but John could use a shout, one that would not be suspected of sorcery. The advantage was on the side of the Northmen. The islanders left on the ship were clearly in no hurry to help and, John realized, were going to sail away from the shore as soon as possible.

- What's to stop you from killing me after they do?

The Ironborn stood in indecision, unsure of how to proceed. The northerners were set and ready for bloodshed, they had already lined up a wall of shields.

- I swear by the old gods that you and your men will not be killed. You will be judged according to the laws of the realm. Just give the order.

- What awaits the traitor? - he asked hysterically.

- The scaffold," John answered. - But you know, the Wall is always short of men. I think they'll let you wear black. And if your crew wasn't involved in the robberies and didn't know about your plans, they'll be released.

- Drop your weapons," the ironborn ordered with a sigh. John noted the surprising rationality of his actions, or was it just a banal desire to live.

For the next couple of moments his team did not hurry to fulfill the order, but when the first of them dropped his weapon, the others followed suit. They were all tied up and left under guard.

- For what purpose did you hire those mercenaries? - John asked Goodbrather.

- The ruined villages were to distract the Northmen from the merchant ships. And I and the other captain would rob them, both the northern ones and those coming from Volantis.

- How many villages were to be affected?

- About two dozen.

- The seventh scorcher! - Dacey swore.

- Did anyone else know about your plans?

- Only the second captain and his crew. By the way, this whole thing was mostly his idea.

- Name!

- I can't. He'll kill me!

- His hands won't reach the Wall, believe me. And if we know his name, we'll know exactly who to send to the scaffold for his crimes.

Goodbrather was silent for the next few minutes, clearly pondering. Then he said reluctantly:

- Euron Greyjoy.

***

The ship that had escaped didn't get far, caught up almost immediately by the Mormont ships that had come to slam the trap. The half of the crew left on the ship didn't even put up a fight and surrendered at once. The squad along with the prisoners were taken away the next morning, it was still night and it was dangerous to do so in the darkness. The rest of the northern fleet patrolled the coast near the Northern Mountains and escorted the merchant ships.

The ships sailed to Darkwood where Lord Stark was to arrive for trial. Glover warriors scoured the Wolfwood and the coast for the remaining mercenaries, while Stark soldiers arrived in the villages to guard them for the time being.

The ship arrived at the Glover family castle the next day. The Ironborn were thrown in the dungeon until trial, the rest were guests. The Wildlings, meanwhile, mingled with the Mormont Guard and tried not to draw attention to themselves. They had not yet arrived on the promised island, and they had made no agreement with the lord here. They were "prisoners" of House Mormont, and it was up to the Mormonts to decide what to do with them.

...

It was not difficult for Vel to get out of the room she had been assigned at night, which John had explained was for the servants' quarters. The girl wasted no time in getting over the wall where she was closest to the ground and rushing into the forest. There were too few guards in the castle. Most of the worshippers were hunting the remaining mercenaries through the forests.

The free folk girl heard someone jumping after her. So pursuit could not be avoided. Running cross-country is not much fun. Branches hit her in the face, tree roots try to get under her feet and force her to fall. Continuous running makes my lungs burst and my side ache, but this pain is a small price to pay for freedom. At least the arrows of the pursuers do not whistle near her head.

Her legs continue to lead her to the long-awaited freedom, it seems that they move independently of her. There are already several bloody scratches on her face, and the pursuer is still breathing down her back. A raven flies nearby and crows nastily. She could not choose a direction yet, the main thing is to get away from the pursuers - and she breaks away, continuing to run like the wind. It seemed to the girl that no one saw her, but she did not intend to return to the admirers.

After another five minutes of running, she crashes into something soft, something she couldn't see in the impenetrable darkness. The girl gazes into the silhouette and realizes it's human.

- I thought we had a deal. You shouldn't have run away, if you don't return, your companions will likely be executed.

- I'm a free woman, I go where I want.

- Then let's go back to the castle and pretend that you wanted to go for a night walk in the forest and now we are returning from it.

The girl only laughed sonorously at this phrase. Her laughter was mesmerizing in its sincerity, though her eyes were sad. Her breathing was still rapid after the long run, and her chest heaved in time with her sighs.

- You're funny, Jon Snow. Why would you do that?

- I gave you my word. But if you're executed, I can't keep it, and you've kept your part of the bargain. So I'll bring you back, and you'll live. Whether you want to or not.

- Do you have the strength to handle a free woman? - Vel taunted him, smiling cheekily.

- More than enough," John smiled just as cheekily.

- Try it!

The girl snatched up a stashed piece of obsidian. John drew his dagger for the action; he clearly didn't want to get a few slashing or stabbing wounds, though he doubted that unmagicized dragon glass could penetrate chain mail. The ebony blade wouldn't help, the girl was too close, and it was impossible to defeat her with it without hurting her.

They walked in a circle, waiting for the enemy to attack first. Vel made false lunges and intended to catch John on the young men's inherent hot-headedness or mistake. The girl would occasionally open up, but in those moments the fight would be ended by killing her rather than disarming her. At one point the wildling didn't bitch and attacked, cutting the distance sharply. She was quite fast, but to her surprise John was even faster. The boy knocked the weapon out of her hands with a kick, and Vel growled and attacked with her fists. John dodged for a while, waiting for her to run out of breath. After a couple minutes, he jerked the girl to the ground and sat on her hips, holding her arms tightly and giving her no chance to break free.

The girl hissed and swore and kept trying to break free until she was completely exhausted. Her breasts swayed in time with her sighs, and her tired and sweaty face seemed even more beautiful than before. Suddenly the girl smiled sincerely.

- You're strong for a Southerner," she said tiredly through her smile.

- I'm a northerner," he corrected.

- Everyone south of the Wall is a southerner," Vel snorted.

- I'm not going to argue with you about that. All right, I've dealt with the free woman, now let's go back.

- I think I twisted my leg when I fell, and now I can't walk.

- The seventh scorcher! - John swore and took the girl in his arms. The raven cawed, pointing the way, and they walked slowly toward the Dark Forest.

- It's interesting," the girl muttered.

- What is?

- I was stolen by a Southerner.

- "Stolen, I mean...

- Yes," Vel smiled. - I'm your woman now.

Snow broke into a cold sweat, hoping he could convince the stubborn girl to keep her mouth shut for the time being. In the last few days, he'd learned that trying to convince a wildling was a lost cause. He tried not to think about how Daisy might react. Only one word escaped his lips:

- Fuck!

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