Chapter 231: Castle Black

Several days later.

A few horsemen, cloaked in black, emerged from the Haunted Forest, their bodies scarred and battered. They arrived at the foot of the imposing Wall.

"Open the gates!"

"Open the gates!"

The Night's Watch sentries atop the Wall spotted them and shouted out. The guards stationed at the gate below began to pull on the ropes.

Creak—

The sound of the winding chains echoed as the heavy solid oak gate was lifted. The horsemen, who had fled in disarray, entered the Wall, still hunched over their horses.

"Hey, brother, what happened?"

A brother of the Night's Watch, dressed in black, helped the horsemen down from their mounts. Only then did he realize the severity of their injuries.

One of the horsemen even had a large hole in his abdomen, as if a hand had pierced through his belly, spilling his intestines and guts out.

This horseman had been dead for some time, his body already cold and stiff. His legs were still tightly clamped to the horse, preventing his body from falling off during the ride. The horse had followed the others back.

It took several brothers of the Night's Watch a great deal of effort to lift him off the horse. His body was laid on a wooden board on the ground, still maintaining the posture of a rider.

All the brothers of the Night's Watch who had rushed to the scene fell silent at the sight.

The other horsemen who had returned were also injured, their faces pale and vacant. It was unclear what they had encountered, but they seemed to have suffered a great shock.

Benjen Stark, the Chief Ranger, was the best off among the returned horsemen, but even he had a shocking scratch on his back, tearing his cloak and leaving a long mark on his body.

"This injury..."

"Benjen, what scratched you?"

A brother of the Night's Watch asked in surprise.

However, Benjen lowered his head and remained silent for a moment.

"Hmm..."

He then let out a long breath, shook his head slightly, and said nothing.

At this moment.

Upon hearing that the horsemen, who had been out of contact for several days, had finally returned, Jeor Mormont, the 997th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, descended from the high command tower to the scene.

The old commander's bald head had a few lonely white hairs fluttering in the wind. His fluffy gray-white beard also swayed a few times. In his hand, he held a half-hand sword with a bear's head carved on the hilt.

This was the Mormont family's ancestral Valyrian steel sword—Longclaw.

"Lord Commander."

"Lord Mormont."

Seeing the Lord Commander arrive, the watching Night's Watchmen made way.

Jeor Mormont arrived at the scene, parted the crowd, and saw the miserable state of the horsemen sitting on the ground. He frowned slightly, looked up at the Chief Ranger, and asked,

"Benjen, what exactly happened?"

Mormont knew that Benjen was a mature and experienced commander. His horsemen had never suffered such heavy losses when out on operations. Could it be that they had encountered an ambush by the wildlings?

The Chief Ranger, hearing the Lord Commander's words, looked somewhat pale. He took a deep breath, then grabbed Mormont's extended hand, stood up from the ground, and exhaled a white mist.

"Lord Commander, let's talk privately."

"Call Maester Aemon as well."

"Oh?"

Upon hearing Benjen's words, Jeor Mormont's old, yellow eyes slightly narrowed. He looked intently into Benjen's eyes for a long while

before nodding slightly. His voice was hoarse as he spoke.

"Alright."

"We'll discuss this matter back in the room."

Then Mormont turned to Bowen Marsh, the Chief Steward standing next to him.

"Bowen, go get Maester Aemon."

"Yes, Lord Commander."

The Chief Steward, who looked like a plump, red pomegranate, agreed. He gave Benjen Stark a nod and a greeting, then headed towards the rookery. The maester's quarters were right below the rookery.

"Hmm."

Benjen Stark also nodded slightly.

He then turned his gaze to the other horsemen present. These men had been briefed by Benjen beforehand and nodded to indicate they would keep the matter confidential.

Benjen then followed the Lord Commander, ascending the wooden steps of the command tower.

The old commander walked slowly ahead, with the Chief Ranger following behind. Both men were silent on the way up. The steps creaked under their weight. When they reached the door, a key was produced to unlock it.

"Come in."

Mormont gestured, and Benjen followed him into the Lord Commander's room, closing the door behind him.

A birdcage hung on the wall inside the room, with a raven inside, tilting its head to look at Benjen Stark.

"Speak, Benjen."

"What exactly did you encounter?"

The Lord Commander, out of breath from climbing the stairs, sat down in the chair next to his desk and took a sip of hot water from his cup.

He looked up and asked.

The Chief Ranger, still looking rather disheveled, stood in the center of the room, his head lowered as he organized his thoughts. Then he looked up again, his voice hoarse as he spoke.

"We encountered the Others, Lord Commander."

At Benjen's words, Mormont was taken aback, then instinctively shook his head in denial.

"Impossible!"

He had expected Benjen to give some sort of explanation, but he hadn't expected such a poor excuse.

"Benjen..."

Mormont was somewhat disappointed.

He had thought that Benjen and his horsemen had encountered an ambush by the wildlings and had suffered heavy losses before fleeing back in disarray.

Afraid of punishment, they had agreed on a story before returning to Castle Black.

People make mistakes. Old Mormont had made many mistakes in his youth, but acknowledging and correcting them was the right path.

So, he had given this young man a chance to save face by discussing the matter privately.

But to his disappointment, Benjen did not admit his mistake and even came up with such a poor excuse.

"I'm not lying, Lord Mormont."

Benjen was slightly taken aback, not expecting the Lord Commander to disbelieve his words. He quickly retorted.

At that moment.

A shaky figure appeared at the door of the Lord Commander's bedroom. The old man, leaning against the door frame, spoke in a hoarse, trembling voice.

"The Others haven't been seen for thousands of years."

"Lord Stark."

"Just saying this won't convince the Lord Commander..."

"You need to prove you're not lying."