While the senior officers of Castle Black insisted on avoiding the use of force, the twenty or thirty men from the Eastwatch-by-the-Sea delegation were isolated and powerless. The conservative officers finally agreed to try sending out trustworthy men to deliver messages verbally, making sure Robb Stark learned what was happening at the Wall. They intended to rely on outside forces to deal with a certain Chief Logistics Officer whom the Night’s Watch could no longer restrain.

The plan was clear and easy enough to execute, but carrying it out was not smooth.

On the ground, the Crown Town army assigned to blockade Castle Black refused to communicate or negotiate, maintaining a rigid stance of only following orders and discussing nothing else. Regardless of whether they were Night’s Watch brothers, Eastwatch men, or which candidate they supported in the election for Lord Commander, none were allowed to leave Castle Black. Those who tried to leave or send messages from atop the Wall were also stopped shortly after they set out, blocked by Mountain Clans warriors at Queenscrown Gate and Black Sable Hall.

Those under siege once again experienced the opponent’s flawless planning.

They then pinned their hopes on the weather, hoping that the increasing snow and the resulting cold and hunger would eventually force the Mountain Clans outside to retreat. However, the situation changed again that afternoon. A second and third group, numbering several hundred in total, came from the direction of Crown Town. Men and women alike, driving carts piled with supplies, began to work as soon as they arrived. After a burst of activity, they set up tents and erected fences on the ruins of old Mole’s Town, establishing a simple military camp. Before dark, smoke was already rising from the site.

…

By this time, the size of the Gift Army outside Castle Black had surpassed that of the entire Night’s Watch. They now had combat troops and full logistical support, forming a complete force that could operate independently without any outside help. The conservative officers watched from the walls. They said little, but their hearts pounded with anxiety. No one regretted the situation more than the First Steward, Bowen Marsh.

He had begun to realize that the resource war he had initiated after Lord Commander Jeor Mormont’s sudden death, intending to cripple the Gift resettlement plan, had led to the current predicament.

Under his orders, Castle Black strictly controlled food and supplies. Now he could only stand guard over warehouses full of goods, surrounded and helpless. And Crown Town? Although they barely supported eighty percent of the living population in the Gift with the help of the Night’s Watch Industry, and although they were constantly struggling to fill their empty warehouses, seeming to be in desperate straits, they had unknowingly gained control over the entire Gift, becoming its de facto masters.

Bowen Marsh did not feel he had done anything wrong, but he had to admit that in this war of attrition he had failed to achieve his strategic aims.

Worse than the feeling of defeat was this: the enemy who had not been destroyed had become even stronger.

—

“When those people appeared outside the castle this morning and hadn’t yet set up a firm foothold, our failure to act decisively doomed us to be at a disadvantage, and now it’s too late to say anything. From here on, we can only hope that Eastwatch-by-the-Sea and the Shadow Tower will get the ravens and relay the message, or else we will remain trapped and wait for things to change.”

“Hadn’t set up a foothold? Easier said than done.” Someone immediately sneered. “When those people outside the walls ‘hadn’t set up a foothold’, we weren’t even dressed. We should be grateful they didn’t seize the chance to attack.”

After all attempts to send out messages failed, a second meeting was called at Castle Black. But aside from meaningless arguments, no one could come up with a single constructive suggestion.

It was not that they had no ideas, but at this moment, they truly could do nothing.

Although the brothers of the Night’s Watch, knowing that those outside were not mortal enemies, still prepared for defense as ordered, their morale had slackened greatly after realizing that this was purely a struggle for power among the higher ranks. The single large gate of Castle Black, the roadblocks outside the walls, and the layered shifts of the blockade made it almost impossible to sneak through. And the heavy snow, already piled up past their calves in the open field, had completely eliminated any theoretical chance of using military actions such as a surprise attack or a breakout.

“What is the use of discussing what has already happened? We need to find a way now. We cannot let those mountain clans outside keep us trapped here.” Yohn Royce had once been Lord of Runestone, the second most important figure in the Vale. As a nobleman experienced in managing affairs, he understood public sentiment better than most present. “Avoiding bloodshed is certainly good, but if we keep doing nothing as time goes on, the brothers will gradually grow used to the status quo. And there are countless eyes throughout the Gift watching us. Once everyone sees that we can do nothing to Aegor and begin to accept the idea that ‘he is the master of the Gift’, it will be too late.”

“Could it be that making everyone accept he is the master is the very reason Aegor is doing this?” Othell Yarwyck glanced meaningfully at Ser Endrew, the Master-at-Arms, with a hint of suspicion. “But with the recruits’ votes, isn’t he already close to winning the election? Making trouble at such a critical moment, wouldn’t that be counterproductive?”

“His goal doesn’t matter. All I know is, with that man’s meticulous nature, never leaving a gap, I fear he will also take corresponding measures against Eastwatch-by-the-Sea and the Shadow Tower.” Yohn Royce saw that the senior officers were silent, and though his rank was low, he continued. “We must strike back quickly. And to move fast, we can only rely on ourselves. After thinking carefully for a long time, I found a way that everyone has overlooked, something that boy would never expect. Even if he did think of it, he cannot prevent it. It can send out the message.”

“Oh?”

“Tell us.”

Yohn Royce waved his hand and quickly gave the answer. “Aegor has blocked the two paths: under the Wall and on top of the Wall. But there is a vast world Beyond the Wall. Why are we ignoring that?”

…

A vast world Beyond the Wall? Sending a message from the far side of the Wall? After a brief silence, several Ranger captains scoffed.

“I thought you had a good idea, but it turns out to be this.” A Ranger officer from Castle Black snorted. “Why do you think we sealed the tunnel? Gods know how many dead and White Walkers are in the Haunted Forest right now, just waiting for us to walk to our deaths.”

“Beyond the Wall is very dangerous, I do not deny it.” Yohn Royce pressed on. “Stopping patrols Beyond the Wall and sealing the tunnel were all done to reduce casualties. But I have read all the reports of encounters with the White Walkers, and they all say these are intelligent beings. Their thinking is certainly no less than human. Would such creatures really sit at the edge of the Haunted Forest waiting for men to come out to die when they know we are not going out?”

“Are you sure you want to bet your life on guessing the thoughts of monsters? Gods know if they are just lying in wait at the forest’s edge. The living get impatient waiting for a target, but the dead have all the time in the world.”

“Mance Rayder brought thirty thousand Wildlings to surrender, and there are thousands more who chose not to trust him. Those people are scattered and fleeing Beyond the Wall. If I were a White Walker, I would take my army of the dead and hunt down those scattered bands first to make myself stronger, then wait for the right time. What did the reports say? As winter draws near, they grow stronger and stronger, and their range is coming ever closer to the Wall.”

“I do not care what you think.” A Ranger captain from Castle Black shrugged. “Anyway, do not expect us to send men out Beyond the Wall to be a suicide squad. I would rather be court-martialed and hanged than go out there to die for nothing, only to come back in another form.”

Yohn Royce ignored the dissenters and looked at the other Night’s Watch officers present. “Neither Aegor nor the White Walkers will expect us to send someone out Beyond the Wall at this time. Lower one or two men with a basket, have them walk west along the base of the Wall, bypass the Mountain Clans at Queenscrown Gate, cross the blockade, and then have the sentries on top pull us back up. If we move quickly, we will not even need to spend a night out there. It is dangerous, yes, but if I am not mistaken, it may not be the certain death our instincts tell us it is.”

“And what if all the forts along the Wall have received Aegor’s orders to stop anyone coming out of Castle Black?”

“Then they may detain us, but they will not refuse to pull us up. If that boy has even considered such an unlikely possibility, then I will concede.”

“I object,” Othell Yarwyck said directly. “I will not stand by and watch a plan pass that makes some brothers take unnecessary risks. Deciding who the next Lord Commander will be and whether the Gift resettlement plan will continue, the Wall has already suffered enough farces. This is a difference of ideology—”

“The idea was mine, I will take the lead,” Yohn Royce interrupted the Chief Builder’s rambling. “I will look for volunteers to come with me. If there are none, I will go alone. Lord Cotter, do you approve of my action?”

Cotter Pyke had not expected this man to be so desperate. He stared at him for a long time before slowly speaking. “We all know about the grudge between you and Aegor, Yohn, but it is not worth it. You get the message to Robb, and he is not going to kill Aegor. And if you guessed wrong and never come back? He will just laugh until his belly aches.”

Without saying no or yes, Yohn Royce’s tone was firm. “I understand the risks and have decided to bear them. Aegor West has used every possible means to force us into a dead end. If we do not counterattack with an unexpected move, he will think we are all fools who can be bullied at will.”

In Castle Black, a small group of the conservatives were planning a desperate and incredible gamble as a counterattack against Aegor’s sudden move. Meanwhile, far away at the Night’s Watch port at the easternmost end of the Wall, they were immersed in an atmosphere of joy and peace.

Conflicts and rivalries among the officers were matters for the important people. The ordinary brothers at the bottom did not treat one another as enemies just because they supported different men, especially when one side had shown goodwill.

The Chief Logistics Officer of Crown Town, a settlement under the control of the Night’s Watch and the first in the Gift to be called a town, had led the employees of the Night’s Watch Industry to comfort the soldiers again after several months. They had brought a cart full of different kinds of meat and several large barrels of fine wine, saying this was a reward for the brothers of Eastwatch-by-the-Sea for holding the Wall.

Life on the Wall was dull and tedious. Faced with such a good thing, and with the commander conveniently away, the gathering had quickly turned into a carnival. Up and down the Ice Wall, inside and outside the hall, there were men clinking cups and eating heartily everywhere. The brothers of the Night’s Watch and the employees of the Logistics Department put arms around each other’s shoulders, calling one another brother, boasting of their exploits. Those who had drunk too much leaned against the walls, humming lewd and ambiguous tunes. Even without musical accompaniment, the rough voices made their own rhythm.

The walls blocked the cold wind, and the heat from the feasting crowd and the charcoal braziers created a pocket of warmth in the small port fortress, as if even the falling snow had been pushed back. The aroma of wine mixed with the smell of roasted meat and spices, blending into a rich and pleasing scent.

It had not been this lively in a long time since the election for Lord Commander began. Now, it was a little too lively.

Aen Emett did not drink much. He was the Ranger captain of Eastwatch, Cotter Pyke’s chief enforcer. The commander had taken Yohn Royce and his group to Castle Black for the election, so he had been left to temporarily act as commander of Eastwatch.

He did not have the authority to order the brothers not to drink, eat, or boast, so he chose not to play the bad man. But he knew that the more the brothers in the fortress immersed themselves in drinking and feasting, the more someone needed to stay sober to watch over the defenses of the Wall, lest the White Walkers or the Wildlings who had not surrendered seize the opportunity to attack, break through this key fortress, and bring disaster.

The sentries atop the Wall had also drunk some wine and were now standing in small groups, flushed and chatting idly. Their attitude was improper, but they had not slacked in their watch. The height of the Wall allowed a high margin for error. So long as they did not fall asleep, there was no chance of something as absurd as an enemy climbing up undetected.

After giving them orders to patrol, Emett stood on the Wall for a while, gazing at the Haunted Forest. Then he came down the steps, entered the watchtower by the Wall, and gave reminders to the brothers on the ground floor. Only after confirming that there were no major lapses in the defenses did he leave with some peace of mind.

As he passed through the hall, he came face to face with Maester Hammon of Eastwatch.

This stronghold’s “mouthpiece” did not look like a Maester at all. Drinking heavily all day, he was fat and red-faced, and now he was holding a cup, swaying as he walked.

“Hammon,” Emett sighed, long accustomed to his appearance, suppressing his disgust. “Did any ravens come in today from anywhere?”

“Hmm…” Hammon blearily opened his eyes and shook his head as if to shake off the fog of drink. “It seems a letter came from Castle Black.”

“Then why didn’t you report what it said?”

“Uh… At the time I had just taken the letter from the raven’s leg and was putting it back in the cage when the brothers from Crown Town arrived. So I set the letter down and went to help first… move things. Hiccup…”

“You were moving wine!” Emett frowned in disgust. “Everyone knows you are a drunkard, and everyone is just too lazy to say anything. But you are the Maester of Eastwatch. Can you at least do your job before drinking? A raven from Castle Black. What if it was an urgent order? Can you take responsibility if things go wrong? Where is the letter?”

“Hiccup. Got it. I will be careful next time.” If it had been Cotter Pyke rebuking him, Hammon might have taken it seriously, but this was just a temporary commander daring to scold a Maester. He shrugged indifferently and kept on walking toward the hall with his cup. “The letter… is either under the raven cage or on my desk. Go and look for it yourself.”

Shaking his head in exasperation, Emett suppressed the urge to strike him and hurried to the Maester’s chambers. After searching, he found the note from Castle Black, still rolled. He opened it, flattened it out, and began to read it word by word in the dim light of an oil lamp.

Emett’s reading was slow, and it took him some time to finish the entire letter. Once he understood it, he swallowed hard, knowing in his heart that things were bad.

Castle Black was surrounded, and Cotter Pyke was trapped and could not escape. Through this letter, he was warning Eastwatch to beware of outsiders, especially of the Night’s Watch Logistics Department.

Without orders, no one was to be allowed into the fortress.

The Maester, who should have informed everyone immediately, had instead, the moment the “comforting the soldiers” group from Crown Town arrived, run off excitedly from the rookery to help move meat and wine, and had then joined the feast, drinking himself insensible. He had not passed on the message at all.

While he had been working like a man walking on thin ice, guarding against the White Walkers and the Wildlings, he had not expected that the real danger would come from “their own people” in black. Eastwatch, which should have immediately raised the alarm and closed itself to outsiders after receiving the message, had, because of a drunkard’s negligence, let dozens of Logistics Department men and mountain clansmen in without the slightest hesitation. If they had bad intentions, then the fortress was as good as fallen already.

He slapped the letter down on the table, grabbed his sword, and rushed out of the Maester’s room. Only a few dozen had gotten in, while Eastwatch had more than a hundred brothers. So long as he could gather enough reliable men before the intruders made their move, there was still a chance to take back control.

But the sight before him made him lower his hand. Against the background noise of the feast, the gates of Eastwatch were wide open. The guards stood by the gate, laughing with the Chief Logistics Officer from Crown Town, watching as several empty carts pulled by oxen or horses, and dozens, even hundreds, of mountain clansmen, filed in through the gates, filling this completely undefended port fortress.

(To be continued.)

***

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