The Wall

I stood at the head of the galley, a foot on the bow that creaked and groaned under the weight of men, horses, and whatever supplies Stannis had brought along. The journey had been pleasant for the most part, with strong winds hurrying us along the plotted course and oddly, no storms in sight. 

One would think I would have found great enemies in the Drowned and Storm Gods with my actions at the Iron Islands in eradicating the only people that believed them to be real but both the sky and the sea remained docile. No storms ailed us, and no waves derailed us, almost as if they couldn't be rid of us sooner.

It was quite the sight to stare at the Vale from the seaside, and I'd even thrown a bolt of lightning in the general direction of King's Landing when we'd passed by Dragonstone just to mess with the cat litter calling it home.

"Colder than a whore you didn't pay out here," Aurane approached me, rubbing his arms with either hand as he shivered. "And it isn't even Winter right now."

The sailor had wrapped himself up in silks and furs and possibly everything he could find but still shivered uncontrollably. His pale skin made it so that his red nose and cheeks stood out more than ever. 

"Didn't know you could be that eloquent," I chuckled.

"I'm quite the poet when the need arises. Just that it's reserved for fair maidens and not, you know, scarred brutes who keep telling me old war tales while drinking."

"Fair," I couldn't help but agree.

He exhaled a plume of hot air. "I hope the Night's Watch has some fires ready."

So far as conversations went, the voyage had been a terribly unproductive one. Stannis' men were guarded, and never spoke unless I asked but even then, it felt more of an interrogation than it did a conversation.

The few Storm Lords accompanying us were largely the same in this regard, and I'd learnt that Melisandre had been hammering a sort of fanaticism into them long before I'd ever arrived. And well, folks who couldn't even meet your gaze never did make for interesting conversation partners.

The only exceptions to this seemed to be the young lads, but they were silenced by their superiors within mere moments of running their mouths. The only people left were Aurane Waters, the Bastard of Driftmark, and Davos Seaworth and the latter was still quite guarded. The former was too busy commanding his part of the fleet most of the time.

There was Stannis, but Stannis was Stannis and that was really all I had to say about how interesting my attempts at messing with him were.

"You should see this place in the Winter," Davos was the one who answered Aurane. 

"You've been here before?"

"Aye," The older sailor nodded. He had more white hairs littered over his scalp now than when we'd set sail. "Back when I was a smuggler. The brothers of the Watch make for good customers."

I raised a curious brow.

"How long till we reach this castle then?" Aurane questioned.

Davos closed his eyes a moment, then looked to the far side. Two ships across, sheets of thin, pale ice had started becoming a problem. It had crept up out of a sudden mist, and the ships would have run ashore were it not for one of Davos' sons who had expertly manuvered it away. Beyond the ice, old and ancient forests watched us sail quietly. I could hear men praying to their gods for a safe passage past.

"We'd be seeing the Wall right now if it weren't for this damned mist," He said finally, groping about his gloved hand out of pure habit. "Mighty impressive thing. Makes you wonder what's out there."

Admittedly, I too was quite curious about the so-called 'Wall'.

I knew from my books and word of mouth that the Wall was manned by the Night's Watch, and had gone from an honour to a punishment for criminals on death row and whatnot. It was supposed to be a shadow of its former self but... I was looking forward to it.

It also served as a testament to just how stupid people could be at times. Why would there be a seven hundred foot tall wall of ice that apparently even dragons had refused to cross if there wasn't something incredibly dangerous out there? It made no sense.

"Well, I hope you're right," I pursed my lips.

"What?"

"I'm not waiting around for the weather to clear up, man."

I cast a glance to the right, then to the left, before turning to look at the confused Aurane, "Can you get us a ship's distance ahead?"

"Sure," He shrugged and walked to the stairway leading down into the hull. "Better be worth it though."

"It will."

Nodding again, he knocked on the wall twice, as hard as he could before shouting at the top of his lungs, "Get to rowing! We've got some ice in the way! Reckon we can break through the damn thing with enough speed!"

There was no ice.

"There's no ice," Davos grabbed onto the railing.

"There is," I smiled. "Maybe age is making you blind."

Several moments later, when we were a small pace ahead of the rest of the fleet, I sucked in a deep breath of the cold air, taking great care to reel myself in, and clapped my hands together. The ship groaned under the sudden force while the sea trembled and wavered and dipped and rose as the mist was blown away by the force.

The forests beside us trembled under the sudden noise, and birds of prey, small sparrows and large winged owls that should not have been out there at day, took to the skies. The unperturbed nature of this distant snowy place didn't like my actions but it acquiesced to them all the same, along with the old and nameless Gods that made it home.

Well, they were less Gods and more nature spirits, humans were just very, very superstitious.

I disregarded them entirely, and turned to gaze at the Wall standing in the distance. It reached to cloudy skies above like, well, a wall, except it was actually as tall as the folk claimed it was. Sunlight cast a faint glow, and burst into an awe-inducing display within the ice.

Even from the distance, I could feel ancient magicks laid into its make once I looked. Else, how would it stand for as long as it had?

I readily admitted that it was splendid. It was impressive beyond measure so far as looks went.

"By the Seven," Aurane murmured with distant green eyes. "Look at that."

"Yeah, really makes you wonder why the hell you people seem to think there's nothing out there." I chuckled and ran my gaze across the shimmering wall of pure ice.

Down at the end, where the Wall met the Bay of Seals, there was a castle of black mortared stone jutting out. Black smoke billowed out of chimneys, and I could see the faint glow of candles beyond several closed windows.

But, it was dilapidated. The curtain walls had fallen to weather in numerous places, and one of the towers resembled the towers at Harrenhal. To prove my point about its disrepair, numerous tents and pavilions were erected outside. 

Two distinct banners flapped above the pavilions. One displayed a green-haired merman holding an obsidian trident and the other had the flayed man of House Bolton sewn into it.

A small dock... or rather, a ramshod structure of hammered planks stretched out of the rocky shore, but it couldn't hope to sustain a fleet the size of Stannis'. 

"I bet they're surprised," I plopped down on the railing, dangling my feet above the sea. 

"Aye. They barely had enough men to man one castle and now there's over twenty thousand here." Davos nodded, running his fingers through his dark scraggly hair. "I reckon there's been fights already."

Aurane was already back by my side by the time Davos finished his words, "Can't really judge them, can we? Rapers, murderers and thieves is all they get here. Cravens. Not the sort of people any man could respect."

"Medieval society though," I held up a finger. "I'll bet you ten gold dragons there's a lot here that were framed or something."

"Not that uncommon," Davos agreed.

"I suppose you speak true," Aurane closed his eyes and held his chin, humming in thought. "Though, I'm not willing to give them the chance."

"Fair."

A lookout spotted us and shouted at the top of his lungs, not that any of my 'companions' could hear him. Soon enough, the whole camp had broken into shouts and rushes. A greeting party hurried onto the plank docks while others moved the moored ships out of the way to greet their King.

Expectedly, Stannis' ship was the first to arrive, followed shortly by our own.

I carefully walked out on to the dock. The men that had arrived to greet him had knelt on their knees, but he'd quickly made them stand back up in the time it took me to arrive.

"Lord Harrion Karstark awaits you at Castle Black, Your Grace. He has Lord Wylis Manderly and some Bolton bastard with him." The thin man at the head of the party wore a studded brigantine the color of the night sky, with a thick fur cloak hanging from his shoulders and roughspun breeches.

He had a pox-marked face, and short, dark hair cut in a widow's peak, with a sloven jaw framed by a thin beard. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he held no real respect for Stannis... no, I saw clear dislike etched across his wiry features.

"How many?" Stannis asked bluntly.

"Eight-and-Ten thousand, Your Grace," He bowed his head. "Three thousand here. The rest at Castle Black."

That was eight thousand more men than Stannis had brought but, these too were his own so it mattered little. I doubted there would be a problem with how much these Northerners seemed to value their oaths and honour and whatnot.

Stannis nodded and turned to the lords by his side, "Order the men ashore. We move at the break of dawn."

"S...Surely we can wait until the day after? The voyage was long, and the men are not use-"

"They are soldiers, not children," He harshly rebuked the fat lord that had spoken out. "You underestimate them, Guncer."

"Perha-" Melisandre attempted to echo the man's sentiment but...

"Silence, woman. I'll not have you tell me how to lead my own men."

Damn.

For some odd reason, the hold the Red Priestess' had over the King had loosened more and more during the voyage. Melisandre could only nod and step back, head lowered.

Shrugging, I approached a tall and lanky youth in a dark gambeson standing some steps behind the man with the pox-marked face. He had a sword tied to his waist, and seemed quite eager to greet the King.

"You there," I called out unceremoniously.

He jerked suddenly but calmed himself quickly and looked up at me, "Gods, you're tall. Was your mother a giant?"

"Dunno, man. You should see one of Marika's kids," I cracked a smile. "Karl."

"Emmet. Lord," He did some parody of a bow, then straightened up and moved a strand of hair from his eye. "I meant no insult. Forgive me."

I waved a hand, "Nah. More folks need to loosen up around me."

With how their society was, it stood to reason that no word of my actions in their realm had reached here. It was a welcome change from the religious fervency the stormlanders showered me with.

"S...So, how can I help you, milord?" He spoke out after an awkward silence.

"There a Jon Snow around here?"

Recognition flashed through his pale face, followed by confusion, "At Castle Black being chewed out by Alliser Thorne I bet. Can I ask why?"

"No reason. We have some mutual acquaintances."

Jon Snow was the fetch quest Robb Stark had almost roped me into. In that respect, I supposed I had gone all over the continent by now save for Dorne and the Reach, becoming a nightmare for some and a hero for others.

"You reckon you could show me the way?" I cocked my head.

He pointed a hand at the wall, "Rest of the castles are empty. Just ride along the wall till you reach one that has people. That will be Castle Black. Jon's there last I know. You can check with Cotter." He gestured to the wiry pox-face with a hand.

I was eager to have a look at this hundred thousand strong force of wildlings.

"H...He's not done something to offend you, has he? He's a bit green but he's not a bad lad, milord."

"Nah. I just needed a guide."

I turned around and watched as the Baratheon fleet came ashore, planks were thrown onto the rocks and droves upon droves of men marched. At least a hundred from each ship, from knights in full plate to the common soldier in nothing but mail and leather.

-

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