Chapter 212

Aegor stayed in Crown’s Rest for a single night. During his stay, he had cordial conversations with the construction team, a few pyromancers relocated there, and the first batch of residents who could loosely be called “his people.” Complaints abounded—about the bitter Northern cold, the lack of materials, tools, and manpower, the wildling raids, and even the complete absence of women in the settlement. Some even threatened to return home. The Night’s Watch couldn’t meet all their demands, nor did it have the means to do so. Still, Aegor had to spend considerable effort, making various promises, to keep them from leaving.

After leaving most of the Northern soldiers Sir Rodrik had assigned to him, along with the majority of his Night’s Watch logistical team, Aegor set out for the Wall at dawn the next morning. With these reinforcements, Crown’s Rest now housed over a hundred residents. By the time Aegor departed, the settlement was bustling with activity, erecting barricades and a simple wooden wall in preparation for living without the lake’s protection.

The journey from Crown’s Rest to Castle Black was a short one, just over a dozen miles along the well-maintained Kingsroad. With fair weather, Aegor reached the Wall by nightfall. Before him stood Mole’s Town and the Wall itself, sights he hadn’t seen in a year—and had once hoped never to see again.

For everyone in Aegor’s party except him, it was their first time seeing the Wall. As the colossal structure emerged from the hazy horizon, rising impossibly high and stretching across the edge of the world, every man fell silent, their breath stolen by the sight. For Jaime Lannister and the fifty Western soldiers accompanying him, the sight of this “end of the world” where they might spend the rest of their lives stirred complicated emotions.

A sentry approached to inspect the group, and soon, the horn announcing the return of brothers sounded. Under the curious or somber gazes of black-clad men streaming from the towers, Aegor and his party entered Castle Black.

…

Castle Black had changed since Aegor last left. The most noticeable difference was a flimsy three-meter-high wooden wall encircling the compound. It looked unstable, swaying in the wind and seemingly held together by barrels and sacks of grain stacked against it.

For a thousand years, the Night’s Watch had believed they didn’t need walls to defend against attacks from the South. That belief had held true—until the Watch’s decline emboldened even the wildlings to attack them directly. Perhaps realizing this, the brothers of Castle Black had begun to erect this rudimentary wall.

“Aegor!” a familiar voice called out in surprise as a slim, agile figure darted from the crowd to greet him. Jon Snow, who had personally overheard Aegor’s plans to flee the Wall with Tyrion Lannister, was perhaps the most astonished to see him return voluntarily.

Soon, more familiar faces emerged, surrounding Aegor’s northern-bound party. Some welcomed the Chief Steward back, others bombarded him with questions about his life in the South, while a few rifled through the wagons, eager to see what goods he had brought this time. Recognizing many of them, Aegor quickly found himself enveloped by the crowd.

“Don’t touch the wagons!” Jon barked, gripping Aegor’s arm. Before he could exchange more than a few words with his old friend, Jon was already shouting for order. “Go summon Ser Bowen Marsh! Get the supplies moved to the storehouses!”

“I’ve also brought dozens of new recruits and subordinates. Who’s in charge of arranging accommodations now?” Aegor asked.

“Ser Andrew Tarth,” Jon replied. “He’s the new Master-at-Arms of Castle Black. Ser Alliser’s departure was a delight for all of us.”

Aegor chuckled, fully understanding the sentiment. “Commander Mormont’s decision is a wise one. Don’t waste his goodwill.”

“Uh… I know,” Jon said, rubbing his hands awkwardly.

As they talked, Jon’s gaze shifted past Aegor, quickly landing on Jaime Lannister. Jon said nothing, but the tension in his eyes was evident. Even without speaking, it was clear that the Kingslayer—silent, withdrawn, and visibly bitter—had no intention of receiving the same enthusiastic welcome as Aegor. As a man who had slain two kings, Jaime’s martial prowess and volatile reputation made him someone few dared to provoke.

After overseeing the unloading of supplies and ensuring Ser Andrew assigned accommodations, Aegor noticed something was amiss. “Where’s Commander Mormont? And what of the Vale lords exiled here by King Robert after the rebellion?”

Mormont was the only superior Aegor had within the Night’s Watch, and the Vale nobles, exiled partly because of him, were potential enemies he couldn’t afford to ignore.

“The wildlings launched a large-scale assault across the Bay of Seals, using rafts to cross. Commander Mormont took half the rangers to oversee Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. As for Yohn Royce and the other Vale nobles… they left this morning with the remaining rangers to rescue villages attacked by wall-breaching wildlings in the West. I’ve been left to manage Castle Black for the time being.”

“Hah, personally overseeing Eastwatch? That’s a task for a First Ranger, not the Lord Commander himself. And leaving you behind here… looks like Mormont wants you to get a taste of running Castle Black on your own,” Aegor said with a knowing smile, though unease tugged at him. “When did the last group of rangers leave?”

“This morning.”

“How many men are left at Castle Black?”

“Just over two hundred. With the men you brought, we have three hundred now.”

“That’s not good. The wildlings have wargs—skinchangers who can spy through birds. If that’s the case, they already know our movements. They might take this chance to attack while Castle Black is undermanned.”

“Wargs?” Jon asked, his face darkening. “I’ve heard of them, but where did you learn this?”

“From books,” Aegor replied. “The same ones that taught me dragonglass can kill White Walkers. Reliable enough, I’d say.”

Jon hesitated. “You really think the wildlings will attack now?”

“It’s just a theory,” Aegor said, trying to reassure him. “Let’s go up the Wall. I want to see what’s happening beyond it.”

Jon agreed, and the two made their way to the winch elevator, beginning their ascent to the top of the Wall.

…

“The wildling vanguard appeared outside the Wall about a month ago,” Jon explained as they rose. “They’ve been skirmishing near the forest’s edge, and we stopped patrolling beyond the Wall since then. Over time, their main host arrived, and their numbers kept growing. By now, there are at least thirty or forty thousand camped outside Castle Black alone.”

The higher they rose, the colder and fiercer the wind became, rattling the iron cage as it climbed the tracks. Jon turned his back to the wind to continue speaking. “They’ve made no move to attack the Wall itself. Instead, small bands cross south to raid the Gift, hitting villages and settlements.”

Aegor frowned. “You can’t let them establish a foothold south of the Wall. If they gather in numbers, they’ll be impossible to root out.”

“Commander Mormont agrees,” Jon said. “We’ve been sending patrols, but the wildlings traveling south come in small, well-equipped groups. They’re too skilled for small patrols to handle. In the end, Mormont consolidated our cavalry into two larger patrols, thirty men each, to cover the east and west. It worked at first; they wiped out one band of elite wildlings. But the wildlings adapted, shifting to larger-scale crossings at the Gorge and the Bay of Seals.”

Aegor’s expression darkened as he listened. His assumptions in King’s Landing, that three hundred elite rangers could hold the Wall with ease, were shattered. With ten thousand wildlings under Mance Rayder, the Night’s Watch couldn’t withstand a sustained assault—especially if the wildlings attacked on multiple fronts.

“Patrolling the Gorge is manageable,” Jon continued, “but Eastwatch… we don’t have enough ships to patrol the Bay of Seals effectively. Commander Mormont requested aid from White Harbor. Lord Manderly agreed to send ships, but only if we supply the sailors. You’ve been through the North—you know how things are.”

Aegor nodded grimly. The North was embroiled in chaos, with armies marching south, houses feuding, and the last harvest before winter underway. The Night’s Watch, as ever, stood alone.

As they talked, the elevator reached the top of the Wall. The wind was merciless here, forcing Aegor to pull his hood tightly over his head to protect his ears. Jon led him to the edge.

“Look,” Jon said, pointing below. “Every fire you see marks a tent.”

It was nearly dusk. The Ghost Forest below was veiled in mist, and thousands of campfires flickered faintly beneath the trees. They seemed close enough to touch, but that was an illusion born of the Wall’s immense height. The nearest camp was over a mile away, safely out of reach of arrows.

“They’ve been moving closer to the Wall,” Jon said. “When they first arrived, they camped further back, but day by day, their camps inch closer.”

Aegor squinted at the distant fires, unease growing in his chest. Was the magic in the Wall repelling the White Walkers and their wights, forcing the wildlings to huddle near it for protection? Or was there another reason?

“It’s strange,” Jon muttered. “There shouldn’t be fog at this time of day.”

Aegor followed Jon’s gaze and stiffened. The mist wasn’t mist—it was smoke. Deep within the forest, faint flames flickered. The wildlings were setting the woods ablaze.

“Damn it!” Aegor cursed. He had misunderstood the timing of the wildling assault. They weren’t preparing for an attack.

The attack had already begun.