The officer, eager for merit, had made up his mind, and the three young soldiers had no choice but to suffer along. Will, originally a poacher, was quite skilled in stealth and tracking. He quickly deduced the number and situation of the people ahead—around ten, including men, women, and children, likely a Wildling family.
Wildlings are generally perceived as fierce and brutal by the residents of the Seven Kingdoms, and in many parts of the North, Lords even use them to scare children. However, the Night's Watch, who often deal with them, don't fall for this. The black brothers know very well that the so-called Wildlings are essentially just wild peasants who don't pay taxes or perform labor and believe this is called "freedom." Their side is different—believe it or not, the fact is: despite its continuous decline, the Night's Watch is still one of the largest standing armies on this continent. To use a more modern term, they are "professional soldiers."
In this era of feudal Lords, nobles who wanted to wage war had to notify their vassals, who would then summon soldiers. These "soldiers" would put down their hoes, pick up weapons, and gather under the leadership of knights, thus forming an army.
The Night's Watch is different. Their sole task is to guard The Wall, and they are constantly in a state of readiness for war. Supplies and food come entirely from the residents of The Gift and donations from the Northern families—even in the most peaceful times, the Night's Watch does not engage in production. Although the quality of recruits is somewhat poor, an army that drills daily, in this backward world, is picking the best from the worst... they can be considered elite soldiers.
And Rangers are the "combat soldiers" within this standing army. Compared to "support soldiers" like Artisans and stewards, they barely do chores like washing clothes or cooking. Their only activities are training and patrolling. Compared to Wildlings who wield wooden clubs and stone axes and spend most of their time on "survival," their average combat strength is far more than just a little stronger. Leaving aside certain one-in-a-thousand Wildling "warriors," in situations where the numbers are not vastly different and effective ambushes are not possible, few Wildlings dare to engage well-trained and fully equipped Rangers.
At least the small group Aegon and the others are currently targeting doesn't dare.
This group of Wildlings initially traveled slowly west along a route parallel to The Wall. After realizing they were being tracked by four Rangers, they turned North and fled with all their might... Ser Waymar Royce was leading a patrol for the first time, so he naturally wouldn't give up easily. The two groups, one in front and one behind, began a marathon in the ice and snow.
...
Aegon and the other three Night's Watch men closely followed the Wildlings' trail during the day and spent the nights wrapped in heavy blankets, resting and recuperating. Using the advantage of having horses to ride, they stuck tightly to the enemy, tracking North for three days, then turning northwest, and two days later turning North again... Thanks to not encountering storms or heavy snow, Will never lost track of the target.
"Nine days, Lord."
"Is nine days a long time?"
"Not long," Gared replied, neither humble nor arrogant, "But we only brought about ten days' worth of dry rations. Even with careful rationing, we can only last twenty days. And we still have to return. If we continue pursuing, the latter half of the return journey..."
"I heard Ser Thorne say," Waymar's tone carried a hint of mockery, "Last winter, Rangers brought a month's supplies but lasted six months outside The Wall. How did they manage that?"
Will and Aegon, who hadn't spoken, exchanged glances and coughed a few times to hide their awkwardness: Waymar's sarcasm might have been somewhat effective, but he unfortunately chose the wrong targets.
"If Lord wants to know how it was done, I can enlighten you," Gared, who had long been annoyed with this fop, naturally wouldn't miss the chance to retort. "I participated in that operation. After we ran out of food, we first ate horse meat and dog meat, then dug up roots, raided mouse nests, and hunted everything that moved. In the end, there was really nothing left to eat, so the Commander ordered us to bring our brothers' corpses... Fortunately, they weren't needed in the end. We endured the storm and reached Craster's Keep, and with the help of that Wildling who mates with his own daughters, we returned to The Wall alive."
"If the Commander wants to try it, I can only promise to do my best to bring everyone home alive," The speaker watched with satisfaction as Waymar's expression became flustered, and continued without politeness, "It's just that the Commander once reminded us that teams of less than ten shouldn't seek help from Craster, and roots and horse meat are not easy to digest."
The young nobleman's face changed several times. Aegon thought this youngest lieutenant among the Rangers would fly into a rage, but in fact, he quickly calmed down and even miraculously made a concession: "Alright then, no matter what happens, tomorrow we will turn back and end the pursuit. But for this last day, we must take the initiative to try and capture one or two 'tongues.' Regardless of success, we will depart for the return journey tomorrow."
"Take the initiative?" Will couldn't just watch anymore, he became nervous: "But... Lord Benjen wants us to investigate the reason and movements of the Wildlings' appearance, he didn't ask us to..."
"What have you investigated in these nine days?" Waymar interrupted the poacher. "Chasing for another nine days is not as convenient as capturing a live Wildling to interrogate. Gared, what do you think?"
Gared could engage in banter and mock each other based on his seniority and veteran status, but facing Waymar, who was both a nobleman and an officer, he ultimately could not disobey orders. He pursed his lips and reluctantly replied, "As Lord commands."
Waymar smiled disdainfully. He liked the feeling of seeing others annoyed with him yet having to obey. He snorted inwardly and turned to look at Will: "You, go scout ahead, and report back on the specific situation. Then we'll discuss and decide how to act."
The poacher looked at Aegon and Gared without complaint and took the order, leaving. The remaining three dismounted and found a place to sit and rest among several large trees.
...
Aegon stood on a rock half-buried in the snow and began to observe his surroundings. The weather was getting colder each day, and being located hundreds of miles North of The Wall, the temperature should indeed be lower geographically... But what made him most uneasy wasn't the cold, but a person.
To be precise, it was Ser Waymar Royce.
It wasn't that he was afraid of him. Although this young nobleman was somewhat spoiled, one couldn't in good conscience call him a fop. Aside from being a bit arrogant due to his status, he hadn't done anything outrageously bad... What Aegon feared was the plot related to this young man.
If he had known earlier that he would one day transmigrate into this world, he would have watched the TV series and read the original books several times over. But life has no hypotheticals. In his original world, whether watching the show or reading the books, he had only skimmed through them, only knowing the general plot and not remembering any details at all.
However, there was one plot point he absolutely couldn't forget, and that was—Waymar Royce was the unfortunate soul killed by the White Walkers at the beginning of the Ice and Fire story. As the first character with a name to appear in both the novel and the TV series, his death revealed the true existence of the world's biggest antagonists, set the tone for the plot, and served as the most important "catalyst."
But heaven knows, Aegon, as a transmigrator, asked himself that even if he couldn't rise through the ranks, get promotions and raises, become a king or overlord, and reach the pinnacle of life, he shouldn't just be a background character who dies at the very beginning of the story! Therefore, when he heard ten days ago that this patrol would be led by Ser Waymar Royce, his heart was resistant.
Unfortunately—as someone who came to The Wall with a crime, he had neither the right to choose his officers nor the qualifications to refuse normal duty. He could only bite the bullet and set off, venturing deep into the Haunted Forest once again.
Haunted Forest, Haunted Forest, what would it be called the Haunted Forest if there were no ghost shadows? The cold wind North of The Wall never stops, blowing the tree shadows into eerie shapes like monstrous living things. This dark wilderness got its name from this. Aegon still remembers the scene from his first time going North of The Wall. At that time, memories of legends and plot points suddenly flooded his mind. Every tree shadow at first glance seemed like a White Walker standing silently waiting for living people to fall into their trap, and every weirwood carved with a face could startle him. By the end of the first day's patrol, his legs were so weak he could barely stand when he dismounted. Thinking about it now, it was quite embarrassing.
Nowadays, he had been out beyond The Wall more than ten times and had encountered Wildlings two or three times. He was no longer afraid of this cold forest known as the Haunted Forest.
But traveling with Waymar reactivated the unease hidden deep within him. It felt as if some indescribable danger lurked in the dense shadows of the trees surrounding them, making him feel as anxious as an animal facing its natural predator.
He circled the resting spot, finding no unusual signs. Perhaps the chill on his back and the sense of crisis were just illusions caused by Waymar's presence? On second thought, this guy couldn't possibly be so unlucky as to run into White Walkers on his very first patrol, bringing him along... When he returned to The Wall this time, he had to find a way to avoid being assigned patrols with this jinx from the Royce Family.
Aegon shook his head and returned to the other two, finding a place to sit down amidst their strange looks, and quietly waited for Will to return from scouting.
...
The cold wind blew, and the horses paced in place, snorting. Aegon, while remaining vigilant and listening for sounds around them, pondered ways to avoid traveling with Waymar and to leave the Night's Watch. About an hour later, Will returned.
"Hmm?" Waymar looked up, his gaze questioning the poacher, and spoke in his uniquely arrogant and indifferent tone, "It's almost dark. The Wildlings should have stopped and started making a fire and setting up camp by now."
Will dismounted, walked numbly over to the three, swallowed, and said with a dazed look, "I know you won't believe it... but something happened up ahead... The Wildlings, they're all dead."