The Wall, Castle Black.
The rising sun looked like a young bride about to be married, veiled in a thick red mist, revealing only a faint blush of hazy light.
That weak warmth was nowhere near enough to counter the howling northern wind and the waist-deep snow that bit into their bones.
Atop the Wall, facing the northern outpost, the flame within the charcoal brazier flickered unsteadily.
For the past few days, Tod the "Toad" had felt as bleak and heavy as the weather itself—cold, gray, and without the faintest hope of seeing sunlight again.
"This cursed weather. Those southern lords should come take a look for themselves," Tod muttered.
Beside him, Glen the "Ox" merely glanced at his companion, then lowered his head and buried his neck deeper into his thick fur collar.
He knew exactly what Tod meant. Ever since Sam had lost the White Walker, and the Dragon Queen sent her black dragon to carry a wight from the Wall to the Great Sept of Baelor, the nobles had been writing letters almost every day, asking the same two questions: Are White Walkers real? and Is the Long Night truly coming?
Those letters came from every corner of the Seven Kingdoms—the North, the Vale, the West, the Riverlands, even as far as Sunspear in Dorne, where Prince Doran himself sent his words of concern and promises of aid.
But Glen was in no mood to talk.
When Tod received no reply, he turned to glance at him and immediately understood. He sighed and said, "Jon is dead, Glen. No matter how sad we are, it won't change that."
Glen raised his head, his thick neck stiff. "At the very least, we should avenge him, not act as if nothing happened—just eating, sleeping, and guarding the Wall."
"Avenge him? Who do we even strike back at? There were dozens of black-cloaked brothers who stormed the Commander's Tower that night," Tod said, his ugly toad-like face filled with sorrow.
"Then start with Bowen Marsh. I know it was his idea. You, me, and Pyp—we can take him down easily," Glen said.
"Killing is easy. But we're brothers of the Night's Watch. How can we kill our own sworn brothers?" Tod replied.
"Wasn't Jon their sworn brother too?" Glen snapped.
"Jon…" Tod shook his head bitterly. "He broke his vows."
At those words, the tall, bull-like ranger deflated like a punctured bladder.
"Still… what was Jon thinking? Even I can remember every word Her Majesty said that day. How could he…"
"Maester Perestan found a letter in the Commander's Tower," Tod interrupted softly. "It came from Greywater Watch."
He recalled what the blacksmith Donal had said. "Jon was named the heir to King Robb Stark, the King in the North.
That means, from the moment he received that letter, Jon became the new King in the North.
He had the duty of the Night's Watch, but he wasn't the only one who did.
The honor and shame, love and hatred of House Stark—all of it fell on his shoulders alone. He was, after all, still a Stark.
Perhaps the blood of the direwolf in him flared up, and in that moment, he acted rashly, without reason."
"Then let him return to Winterfell. Let Jon be King in the North. He could bring more aid to the Wall than the Boltons ever did," Glen said.
"You're right in principle, but it goes against the rules," Tod sighed helplessly.
"Even so, murdering Jon was wrong. They could've imprisoned him first, informed Her Majesty, and let her judge him fairly," Glen argued.
"Are you hearing yourself? Sure, the Queen is fair and just—we all trust her—but how could Night's Watch affairs ever—wait, Glen, look! The black dragon! Gods, the black dragon's carrying someone—Queen Daenerys herself!"
Tod shouted excitedly, then sprang to his feet, rushing out of the watch post toward the massive horn mounted behind the parapet. Puffing up his cheeks, he blew hard.
"Woooooo——"
"SKREEEEE——" the dragon roared in response.
The loud, echoing blast of the horn stirred the sleeping Castle Black below, and the dragon's roar soon sent it into a frenzy.
Night's Watch brothers burst from their quarters, clutching their cloaks tightly around them. Wildlings waved from the tower balconies, shouting to the sky. From the King's Tower, a group of knights bearing the fiery heart banner escorted a noblewoman out into the courtyard.
At three in the morning, they left the sanctuary. By around eight the next day, the black dragon descended onto the training yard of Castle Black from the northeast.
"With snow this thick, couldn't you at least clear a path?" the Dragon Queen called out loudly as she trudged through snow that reached her waist.
Blacksmith Donal directed the Watch brothers to shovel a way forward for the Queen while explaining, "According to Castle Black's custom, once winter begins, we move through the underground tunnels between the towers. The surface snow isn't cleared—there's just too much of it.
Thankfully, Your Grace built that ten-meter-high half-wall around the castle earlier. It blocks most of the wind and snow. Otherwise, the courtyard would be buried under ten meters by now."
Within a few moments, the senior officers of the Night's Watch and the wildling chieftains arrived to greet the Dragon Queen.
The noblewoman escorted by the fiery-hearted knights stood gracefully on the stone steps, watching Daenerys but making no move to greet her.
Among the Night's Watch stood familiar faces like Maester Perestan and Bowen Marsh, along with a dozen new knights.
One among them even bore the sigil of House Estermont—a green turtle—on his chest.
Lord Elton Estermont of Greenstone, an elderly knight over seventy.
He was also Stannis's uncle.
Like the late Lord Mormont before him, the old lord had passed his title to his son, donned black, and joined the Night's Watch.
Though his purpose was unclear, the other noble knights had clearly come in response to the Dragon Queen's call for a "United Front Against the Dead."
They were, in short, true knights with honor.
After exchanging brief courtesies in the courtyard, Daenerys introduced the five knights accompanying her to the Night's Watch.
The Dothraki and the plump eunuch caused little stir, but when it was revealed that Ser Garth was a member of the Kingsguard, several of the noble knights gasped aloud.
There was no reason to hide it.
First of all, it couldn't be hidden.
The circumstances surrounding Ser Barristan's seizure of the Hightower grain fleet had already raised eyebrows and suspicion.
Moreover, both Slaver's Bay and her allied armies already knew Ser Garth's true identity. Months had passed—by now, the news had surely reached Westeros.
And besides, it was nothing unusual for family members to serve opposing masters.
For example, the Island of Tarth belonged to the Stormlands. Brienne of Tarth had once been accused of murdering Renly, then sworn fealty to Lady Catelyn.
Neither Stannis nor Cersei ever moved against her father, Lord Tarth.
Before long, Daenerys and her six companions followed the Watch brothers into the underground tunnels, arriving in the warm and humid great hall below.
The Dragon Queen took the seat of honor, and the others sat according to rank. Those without titles, but eager to eavesdrop, stood quietly at the lower end of the hall.
"Why did you kill Jon Snow in that manner?" Daenerys asked first.
The steward of the Red Pomegranate stepped away from his seat and knelt before the Dragon Queen, his expression solemn."He was both an oathbreaker and the King in the North.
In the North, no one can judge the King in the North.
Your Majesty, I know that assassinating the Lord Commander was also a betrayal of our vows. I am willing to bear all the blame."
Clearly, this man intended to die for his crime.
From the beginning, he never thought he would survive this.
Whether Lord Commander Jon truly broke his vows, and whether he deserved death, could still be debated. But for the Night's Watch to assassinate their own Lord Commander—that was undeniably a grave sin.
To break one's oath was a mortal crime, and death was the punishment.
However, Daenerys had no desire to involve herself in this mess.
"I'll look into the matter," she said, "but the final judgment should wait until the new Lord Commander is appointed. By the way, has a new commander been chosen yet?"
"They're still discussing it," said red-nosed Perestan, glancing at the stiffly seated 'Old Green Turtle.' "Earl Elton Ismond holds the highest title and has the most battle experience. He's currently the leading candidate."
Old Green Turtle smiled and nodded toward the Queen, speaking in the tone of a commander."Jon Snow broke his vows. Killing him was a service to the realm, not a crime. Bowen Marsh—"
Daenerys raised her hand to interrupt. "Earl, I mean no offense, but you are not suited to be Lord Commander."
The old man's face paled, though he held back his anger. "Why not?"
"You're too old. You must be seventy by now, aren't you?"
The old nobleman puffed out his chest and declared loudly, "I can still eat a whole roast goose, half a ham, five duck eggs, and drink five pounds of wine or three pounds of broth in one sitting."
A man who could still eat that much shouldn't be wasting food at the Wall.
Daenerys held her tongue, keeping her expression calm. "It's admirable that you remain so strong, my lord.
But the Wall is bitterly cold. It needs a Lord Commander who is younger, hardier, and able to endure hardship.
This is only the beginning. In the next year or two, the White Walkers will attack. The cold will grow harsher, the dangers greater."
"I can endure hardship!" Old Green Turtle thumped his chest proudly. "During the recent wars of the Four Kings, I fought on the battlefield. And just six months ago, I married a twenty-four-year-old wife!"
Daenerys was beginning to feel disgusted.
"Very well," she said coolly. "The affairs of the Night's Watch are yours to decide. I'll just remind you of one thing: in two short years, two Lord Commanders have already died—and both were killed by their own brothers.
Let's set aside honor and reputation. Consider only the management of the Wall.
The Long Night is coming. The Wall cannot fall into chaos. We have no time to appoint a fourth Lord Commander."
Old Green Turtle's face turned ashen green.
The other brothers of the Night's Watch exchanged uneasy glances, realizing the Queen's words made sense.
"Steward, stand up," Daenerys said to the Red Pomegranate man still kneeling before her. "Your fate will be decided by the new Lord Commander."
With that, she began inquiring about the current state of the Wall's defenses.
To her credit, the Dragon Queen's efforts had yielded impressive results.
Over the past six months, more than a thousand new brothers had joined the Watch—over a hundred of them knights.
They brought not only their full armor and horses but also food, furs, and other supplies.
And it hadn't stopped there. Every day, ships arrived at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea and the Shadow Tower from all corners of the Seven Kingdoms.
Every day, new men donned black cloaks and took their vows.
"The Wall once had nineteen castles. Sixteen were long abandoned. Now, despite the snow blocking the passes, we've restored the underground halls of eleven of them.
Once Wyllin and his old crew arrive, we'll even have enough maesters."
Thinking of the companions paraded through King's Landing, Perestan sighed inwardly. It was lucky he'd been captured early and sent to the Wall by the Dragon Queen.
After learning the Wall's general situation, Daenerys dismissed the council and, accompanied only by a few close attendants, went to the ice vault to see Jon Snow's body.
"We were going to burn it," said the one-armed blacksmith, "but the red priest forbade it. He said Jon Snow will rise again—that he is the prophesied savior who will defeat the White Walkers and end the Long Night."
Daenerys smiled. "And what do you believe?"
"I don't," the blacksmith Donal said, shaking his head and turning to the red-nosed maester.
The old man gave a bitter smile. "I've seen with my own eyes men brought back by R'hllor. If he truly is the chosen one, and we burn him to ashes…"
Beneath the frozen earth, the Watch had dug out a chamber of ice at the Wall's foundation. Jon Snow's body rested there, in a thirty-square-meter ice room.
Melisandre was already there, waiting for the Dragon Queen.
(End of Chapter)
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