In front of Mance Rayder, an outsider, no one publicly questioned the Lord Commander’s decision. But as soon as the King-Beyond-the-Wall was escorted out of the chamber and sent up to the top of the Wall to be lowered back down in a basket, Bowen Marsh immediately voiced his opposition.

“Is that settled then? I don’t know what Aegor just whispered in your ear, but giving such a hasty answer is reckless! That’s thirty thousand wildlings. Even if disarmed, they’d still pose a massive threat with just wooden clubs and stones, not to mention the giants among them!”

“Don’t rush, Lord Bowen,” Aegor said with a calming smile. “You must remember, what Mance agreed to were my ‘two conditions.'”

“Surrendering their weapons and abiding by our laws. Don’t you think that’s too simplistic, too casual?”

“Yes, two conditions may sound too few… but the first is merely a facade. The second is the key. Think about it—why did I specifically say the wildlings must abide by ‘the laws of the Gift formulated by the Night’s Watch,’ rather than the existing laws of Winterfell or King’s Landing?”

Bowen paused. The implication was clear. After a moment’s thought, he quickly understood.

“Ah… you mean, those laws will be written by us?”

“Exactly. ‘Abiding by our laws’ may sound like just one condition, but in reality, it’s countless—because we hold the authority to define and interpret those laws. If I wanted to, I could skip the weapon surrender clause altogether and just make it part of the laws. The result would be exactly the same.”

“I see. If you had only said ‘abide by the law’ without listing two separate conditions, Mance would’ve been more suspicious.” Othell nodded. “Smart approach. We can write all the other terms into the laws of the Gift and compel them to follow. But having the power to make laws is one thing. How do you ensure thirty thousand wildlings obey them? We have only three thousand men who can bear arms. How do we make ten times our number submit?”

“My plan is simple, yet also extremely complex. In short, it consists of two pillars—teaching the wildlings how to use money and instilling in them the concept of private property. The second is building a system of order based on the laws of the Gift to cultivate a habit of obedience.” Aegor spoke with confidence. “The wildlings are the fiercest and most unruly people in the world. They are, fundamentally, a group of lawless individuals. And to tame such people, one must use something even more powerful—money and violence.”

“When they are well-fed, clothed, and feel secure, the wildlings will become less aggressive. With money, we create wealth disparities among them. Individuals without groups are easier for us to manage. And with selective violence, we will train them to obey and maintain reverence toward us. Once the legal system is in place, the so-called wildlings will cease to exist. In their place, a new class of ‘gray-area citizens’ will be born.”

Over the past two months, the work-for-pay, supply, and trade system that Aegor had implemented across the Gift and along the Wall had proven effective. The experiment with the mountain clans had already demonstrated the immense power of money. No one in the room doubted this. But they still had concerns about the enforcement of this legal system.

“Selective violence? How do we maintain a deterrent over tens of thousands of wildlings with only a few thousand men?”

“Control. Confiscating weapons is just the beginning. Once they pass the Wall, I will ‘purchase’ all their key resources—food, horses, livestock—at ‘low prices,’ pay them with coin, and send people to teach them how to use copper and silver coins to buy what they need, instead of simply taking what they want. They will be settled across the ruined castles along the Wall that haven’t been restored and placed in abandoned settlements within the Gift. This will keep them scattered and restrict their movements, preventing any one group from rallying against us.” Aegor continued, “Yes, thirty thousand wildlings are a challenge. But when divided into smaller tribes, we have absolute military superiority over each one. The new walls we’ve recently built will come in handy. The Night’s Watch, the original gray-area citizens, and the mountain clans—our loyal people—will occupy the fortresses and control all key resources in the Gift. As for the wildlings, who will become the new residents, their weapons will be gone, their survival resources in our hands, and they’ll be facing the walls of our fortresses and the food behind them. They’ll have no choice but to obey or starve.”

…

As the weather grew colder, Maester Aemon’s health had worsened. He hadn’t spoken during the negotiation with Mance Rayder, but now, with a trembling voice, he finally spoke.

“You mentioned two choices. But what if the wildlings refuse our governance and decide to flee south after crossing the Wall? The Night’s Watch is tasked with guarding the Wall, yet we would be letting wildlings through who might threaten the North. That would put us in a very vulnerable position.”

“The North is already alert, under attack by the Ironborn. Even if the wildlings head south, they won’t find supplies and won’t be able to do much damage. Besides, we’ll have assigned their settlements. We’ll know where each tribe is located. If anyone flees, we can send rangers to capture them.” Aegor replied. “Of course, to further prevent this, we can require the tribal chiefs and key members to hand over their children as hostages. What do you think?”

“Gentlemen, Aegor is explaining contingency plans for letting the wildlings through. There’s no need to discuss every detail today. We have time to draft the laws of the Gift and incorporate everyone’s input.” Jeor Mormont tapped the table. “However, to be clear—I haven’t officially decided to let the wildlings through the Wall yet.”

“What?” This time it was Jeremy’s turn to be surprised. “But you already agreed…”

“I did agree, and going back on one’s word is dishonorable. But survival and duty take precedence over reputation.” Jeor Mormont shook his head. “I told Mance to bring his people to Castle Black. Once they’re gathered outside the gate, I’ll send men to inspect them. If anything Mance said proves false—if their number exceeds thirty thousand, or if their supplies aren’t enough to support us through the winter—then we’ll switch to another plan. We’ll assemble a mobile force, go Beyond the Wall, launch a surprise attack, scatter the wildlings, and seize their food.”

“This…” Even Bowen, the strongest opponent of letting the wildlings through, hesitated. “That would be the same as murdering tens of thousands beyond the Wall!”

“Our duty is to guard the Wall. As I said, priorities must be set.” Jeor Mormont clenched his hand into a fist on the table, then slowly released it. “So be it. The drafting of the laws of the Gift will be overseen by Aegor. Everyone here has the right to suggest additions, and the final draft will be submitted to me for review. Once approved, it will be shown to the wildlings. If they accept the terms and show no signs of deceit, then we let them in.”

—

After the meeting, Aegor stepped out of the council chamber in good spirits. If Mance had truly reduced the wildling population to thirty thousand, and Braavos continued providing stable food aid, then the Night’s Watch would get through this.

The temperature outside was bitter. The cold pierced the bones. In the courtyard, Aegor spotted the King’s representative speaking “cordially” with two Night’s Watch brothers—Melisandre.

It was amusing. This woman possessed extraordinary abilities, but Aegor was the only one on the Wall who knew it. In the eyes of the other black brothers, she was merely a priestess from a foreign faith, sent by King Stannis, his favored ally. They treated her politely but firmly barred her from sensitive areas and denied her any influence over the Night’s Watch’s internal affairs.

For someone with true magical power, that must have felt quite suffocating.

“Lady Melisandre, aren’t you cold?” Aegor greeted her, his eyes inevitably drawn to the pair of mysterious protrusions on her chest. There were hardly any women at the Wall. After the massacre at Mole’s Town, not even prostitutes remained. Aegor had relied on work to suppress his needs, but at this moment, confronted with a beautiful woman like the Red Priestess, his self-restraint nearly faltered. “If you’d like, I could fetch a coat or cloak from the warehouse… though I don’t think we have one in red.”

“Faith is enough to keep me warm.” The Red Priestess stepped forward, and a furnace-like warmth immediately enveloped him. She brushed aside his cloak, took his arm, and led him to the side. “I saw in the sacred flames that the Night’s Watch would let the wildlings through the Wall. So, have you finished your discussions?”

An ordinary man might have been flustered by her sudden intimacy, but Aegor’s hair stood on end.

Saw it in the sacred flames? Most likely, she had just spoken to Mance Rayder, inquired about him from a few brothers, and deduced the rest herself. Aegor chuckled inwardly.

“We’ve reached an initial understanding. The details still need discussion.”

“Good. Then allow me to give you a little warning.”

“Please speak. If it’s within my power, I won’t refuse.”

“Mance Rayder is a deserter from the Night’s Watch. How do you plan to deal with him?” The Red Priestess walked with him to a secluded spot, arms still linked. “If you intend to execute him… could you do it by burning?”

“Why?” Aegor was baffled. The plot may have changed drastically, yet Melisandre’s obsession with burning people remained.

“The sacred fire tells me that the blood of a king will awaken the dragon from stone. Mance Rayder is the King-Beyond-the-Wall. His blood may prove useful.”

The sight of Melisandre pulling Aegor aside for a private conversation drew many curious glances. It seemed Castle Black would soon have a new rumor to enjoy. But given Aegor’s current status, he had no fear of such gossip. In fact, it was better than rumors of him fancying young boys.

“I’ve heard that prophecy too. But hasn’t it already been fulfilled?”

“Fulfilled?”

“Lady Melisandre, let me ask you: if I declared myself King of the Gift today, took control of the fortresses and the mountain clans, and proclaimed myself ruler, would my blood awaken a dragon from stone? And if so, which stone would it crawl out from?”

“No. You would not be a true king, merely a foolish traitor.”

“Exactly. And Mance Rayder’s ‘kingship’ is also self-proclaimed. Not a single lord in the Seven Kingdoms recognizes him. Why would his blood qualify? Before Aegon’s Conquest, Westeros had seven kings, each recognized by the others. If their blood was so magical, wouldn’t uniting the realm mean losing six powerful bloodlines? What a shame.”

Melisandre stared at Aegor with her deep red eyes for a long moment, then gave a soft chuckle.

“You speak well, Chief Logistics Officer. As for what ‘the blood of a king’ truly means, I am still speculating. It’s no shame to admit that. But you haven’t answered—what did you mean by saying the prophecy has already been fulfilled?”

“Daenerys and her dragons,” Aegor replied. “The ‘dragon from stone’—what else could that refer to, if not petrified dragon eggs? Do you really think it means you burn someone with a ‘kingly name’ and a dragon pops out of a rock? Do you even have dragon eggs?”

“No. But the prophecy does say the blood of a king will awaken the dragon, and Daenerys did hatch dragons. So… what about the blood of a king?”

“When she hatched those dragons, she lost her husband, her unborn child, and she bled herself. One of those three must have fulfilled the prophecy.”

“Is that so?” Melisandre clearly hadn’t known the details of how Daenerys hatched the dragons. She raised a brow. “How do you know so much about her?”

Aegor silently cursed. He’d gotten too caught up in showing off. As a brother of the Night’s Watch in Westeros, he shouldn’t know that much about the Dragon Queen in distant Essos.

“I’m not just a member of the Night’s Watch. I’m also a merchant. I have my own sources of intelligence. Isn’t it normal that I know things even your flames don’t show?”

Melisandre accepted the explanation, her brows furrowed as she considered Aegor’s analysis. He watched her in silence. There were things he hadn’t said. He had drawn conclusions about who fulfilled the prophecy, but the evidence came from knowledge he could never explain.

There were people in this world whose blood held power. Among the three—Daenerys, her husband, and her child—plus Stannis and Robert’s bastards, there was one link: Targaryen blood.

Daenerys bore the name. Her unborn child was obviously of her bloodline. And as for Stannis and Robert, while their name was Baratheon, their grandmother had been Rhaelle Targaryen.

From this, Aegor made a bold inference: in the world of Ice and Fire, the so-called “blood of a king” was not a title, but a bloodline. The blood of House Targaryen. What hatched Daenerys’s dragons was her own blood… or, more likely, the blood of her unborn child.

…

“What you said makes sense. But when I asked the sacred fire to show me the face of the prophesied Prince, I never saw Daenerys. Why?”

“You’ll have to ask your R’hllor. How would I know?”

Aegor’s jab earned him a sharp glare from Melisandre. She gave him a long look before speaking again.

“Are you not curious who I did see?”

“Could it be me?” Aegor smiled.

Melisandre paused, her red lips curling into a faint smile.

“You guessed right. Congratulations.”

…

Aegor and the Red Priestess locked eyes. He wasn’t sure if she was joking. She wasn’t sure if he knew she wasn’t joking. The air grew slightly awkward.

Aegor cleared his throat. Of course, he couldn’t be the prophesied hero. But it was possible she’d seen him in the flames—likely while watching Jon Snow, with Aegor simply in the background. Given that they were both at Castle Black and frequently together, it was more than plausible.

“Where were you born?”

“At the mouth of a great river called the Mississippi, in a city you’ve never heard of.” Aegor shrugged. “Does that satisfy the prophecy that Azor Ahai will be reborn amid salt and smoke? If I’m truly the Prince, may I ask you—my destined helper—to accompany me tonight? You’re so warm, after all. It must be effective.”

“R’hllor never said I had that duty.” Melisandre licked her lips and gave a seductive look. “But if you ask, just say the word. You might be in for a surprise tonight.”

“Hahaha, forget it. I was only joking.” Aegor laughed. “It’s time for lunch. Shall we go see what’s in the mess hall today?”

“I have matters to attend to, Chief Logistics Officer. Please, go ahead.” Melisandre narrowed her eyes, ambiguous. “You’ve convinced me not to pursue Mance further. But after the wildlings come through, I want to spread the true god’s faith among them. Will you cooperate?”

“Within the bounds of Night’s Watch discipline, I’d be happy to assist.”

(To be continued.)

***

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