Because the decision to march south after the Crown Town defense battle was a sudden one, the entire legion hadn’t had time to make detailed arrangements for the Lord Commander’s absence in advance, as Aegor usually did when leaving. This was why the letters from The Gift piled up in Crown Town without anyone transporting them to Aegor, who was with the army, ultimately causing Jaime, who had received no response for a long time, to angrily abandon his post at Ice Canyon Port and return.

After playing with the lion plush doll given by the Little Princess for a while, Aegor tucked it into his arms and returned to his private office to begin dealing with the letters that had accumulated during his absence over the past few days.

Generally speaking, there was nothing new under the sun. Apart from Jaime’s increasingly impatient inquiry letters, the rest were post-battle reconnaissance reports from Rangers at Nightfort and Ice Canyon Port concerning the lost strongholds, and casualty statistics from the final battle along the Wall.

Because western strongholds near the Wall, such as the Shadow Tower, had timely evacuated women and children via the Wall stairs, the final population loss in The Gift during the war against the dead was slightly lower than Aegor had previously estimated. The number of people killed or severely wounded to the point of being unable to fight or work again was just under ten thousand, meaning the overall population reduction in The Gift did not exceed one-quarter.

Less than a quarter might not sound like much, but considering that most of the lost population were able-bodied individuals between fifteen and forty, primarily male, describing the losses as heavy was entirely appropriate. The only mildly comforting news was that, due to the unique nature of the enemy, deaths accounted for the vast majority of the over nine thousand lost lives, while severe injuries were rare. Tragic as it was, the immediate pain could be endured with clenched teeth and would pass, which was better than prolonged human wars that dragged on, disrupted production, and created large numbers of disabled people requiring long-term care. Such wars not only left lingering trauma but also became a constant burden on the recovery and restart of society.

Though the letters were numerous, most of the repetitive administrative content had already been marked in advance by Humfrey, the steward of The Gift, with suggested handling methods based on usual Northern practice. All Aegor needed to do was sign to confirm or reject.

Among the pile of reports, one from Eastwatch-by-the-Sea drew Aegor’s particular attention.

Originally, he believed that Yohn Royce had died during the sea freezing and ship capsizing incident caused by the cold wave in the Bay of Seals. The last batch of survivors who made it back to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea had indeed claimed this, and the Night’s Watch had initially intended to accept that explanation. But what no one expected was that the army of wights which bypassed the Wall via the frozen sea to attack Eastwatch-by-the-Sea must have been too eager to carry out a lightning assault on the Wall’s eastern flank. According to the Night King’s tactical plan, they didn’t even pause to eliminate or convert the trapped crew members aboard the few warships frozen in the ice as they passed by.

And the ice covering the inshore waters of the Bay of Seals, which had frozen to over a meter thick, did not melt after the war ended.

The combined result of these two factors was this: after the victorious end of the Battle of Long Lake and the lifting of the crisis, Night’s Watch troops along the Wall cautiously began to leave their strongholds for reconnaissance patrols. Scouts from Eastwatch-by-the-Sea were surprised to find that the ice a few miles offshore remained solid and reliable, allowing groups to traverse it. A short while later, they were even more surprised to discover, on the ice a mile east of where the Wall meets the sea, among the ships of the icebreaker team that had capsized and become frozen in place, some of the trapped crew members, though starved and parched, were still alive.

Thus, the ugly truth came to light. The commander of the icebreaker team, who had failed to return with the survivors, had not died by accident but had been ambushed from behind by his own cowardly brothers.

Cotter Pyke detailed the investigation findings in a letter to Aegor, informing him that the surviving perpetrator and accomplices had been arrested and requesting orders on how to proceed.

How to handle it? Aegor hadn’t killed Waymar Royce himself back then, and still had to play a dangerous game of wits to escape suspicion when he returned to Castle Black. Now, with clear evidence of a superior being murdered, what other course was there?

If that wretch named Qite had murdered any other Night’s Watch officer, the outcome would be the same. A public execution under the law, to serve as a warning. But the problem was that the victim happened to be Yohn, the former head of a noble house that Aegor had long been at odds with, and whose surviving family members were still alive. While getting to the truth was satisfying, the results were undignified. What would Yohn’s two remaining sons think when they heard their father had been struck from behind by a common ruffian, beaten to death? Would they suspect that Aegor had secretly given the order, and that his decision to execute the killer was just a way to silence him?

After being annoyed for a while, Aegor realized he didn’t need to care too much. Reconciling with House Royce was just one minor step in a much larger plan. So what if it failed? Especially since Runestone’s influence in the Vale had plummeted after the League of the Righteous rebellion was crushed by Robert. Even if it were the Lord of the Vale himself, so what? Before the combined strength of dragons and cannons, all the old nobles were like ants before a wheel. If the feud couldn’t be resolved, then just crush it. At worst, he simply had to avoid going to the Vale for the rest of his life.

He calmed himself and replied to Cotter Pyke, instructing him to handle the matter discreetly. The trial was to be held solely within Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. The primary offender was to be executed, and those who concealed or aided him were to be punished. The official Night’s Watch stance to the outside world would remain that Yohn died in battle. As for the Vale, a privately dispatched envoy would explain the truth in secret. Presumably, if Yohn’s two sons valued their family’s honor, they would also prefer to believe that their father had died fighting the White Walkers.

One letter after another, the stack of correspondence and documents quickly diminished under Aegor’s focused attention and clear thinking. About three or four hours after nightfall, he completed the task. Setting down his pen, he rubbed his aching eyes and decided to do something different before moving on to the next issue concerning the governance of The Gift and the upcoming southern expedition, to ease the mental fatigue from prolonged concentration.

He called loudly to the guard outside the door. “Go tell Asha Greyjoy I will see her now.”

—

Asha Greyjoy, the Kraken’s Daughter, this restless prisoner whom the North had found troublesome and turned over to the Night’s Watch, had once managed to extract Aegor’s exact return date by seducing male guards. She had then blocked him at the gates and made demands the moment he returned to Crown Town.

Though bold, her efforts ended in failure. Not only was her request to join the Night’s Watch flatly rejected, but the guard who leaked the information was tracked down and punished. After a series of disciplinary measures and transfers, they were replaced with female spearwives, rendering all of Asha’s previous efforts to build connections useless. Having learned her lesson, the captain now appeared much more docile. She no longer tried to accidentally bump into Aegor or intercept him. Instead, she relayed her request for an audience through proper channels.

So well-behaved that Aegor almost felt awkward refusing her. Of course, a more important factor was Theon Greyjoy’s performance. During the brutal battle at Long Lake, he had stood out by killing the second White Walker King and had been subsequently targeted. Asha, as his elder sister, was by any measure the family of a martyr. Granting her some special treatment was only reasonable.

It seemed she had been waiting to be summoned, as the guards brought her in not long after being dispatched.

Compared to their last meeting, this time the woman no longer wore shackles. She had changed out of the plain cotton jacket worn by civilian women in The Gift and was back in her own tight-fitting leather attire. Even wrapped in warm clothing, her sharp and curvaceous figure remained, still enough to catch the eye of men. And what hadn’t been dulled or broken by over a year of imprisonment, besides her body, was her spirit and pride. Aegor saw it in her bright eyes and the unyielding defiance on her face.

She knocked and entered, locking eyes with Aegor for a moment before being the first to speak. “Lord Commander, good evening.”

“Heh.” I just praised you inwardly for being tough, and you immediately betray it, Aegor thought, chuckling. “Didn’t you always call me by my full name? Since when did that change?”

Only Asha in all of Crown Town insisted on calling him by his full name, Aegor West. That was why he remembered it so well. Someone that stubborn suddenly switching to a formal title made him slightly uncomfortable, or rather, wary. “Alright, enough jokes. I ordered your shackles removed. Do you understand what that means?”

“I’m free.”

“Exactly. You’re free, but that freedom is something I, as your temporary supervisor, have granted. Stark has not relented. Let me make that clear to avoid future misunderstandings.” Aegor nodded. “This treatment was bought with your brother’s life. His courage during the war against the dead could easily have earned him two Lightbringers. I’ve decided to use part of that reward to purchase your freedom. I’m sure he wouldn’t object, even if he were alive. As Theon’s closest kin, I have no intention of keeping the Dragonsteel Arrow prize he won as runner-up in the Crown Town archery competition. It belongs to you now.”

“Should I say thank you?”

“If you like. I nearly forgot, you’re no longer a prisoner. Sit.” After sizing her up, Aegor shrugged and pointed to the chair across from his desk. “You now have a choice. Take the Lightbringer that should have been your brother’s and keep it for yourself, or sell it to the Night’s Watch for gold to live on. We still don’t know exactly how much a Dragonsteel Arrow is worth, but to be safe, I suggest you accept no more than one hundred golden dragons for now. I swear, on my honor as Lord Commander, you’ll receive the fair price. You may return to the Night’s Watch at any time in the future to claim the difference once its market value is established.”

“Thank you for your generosity, Lord Commander,” Asha said, frowning as she responded dryly. After a moment’s hesitation, she pulled out a chair and sat, crossing her astonishingly long legs. Gods, she had almost forgotten the last time she was free to make such a gesture. As she exhaled contentedly, a twinge of emotion stung her nose and nearly brought a tear. “So, does that mean I have to leave The Gift no matter what? But where can I go now?”

“When I said leave, I meant leave the Inner Keep of Crown Town. You’re no longer a prisoner, nor are you Night’s Watch, so you don’t qualify to stay inside the walls.” Aegor leaned back in his chair, arms folded. After reading letters all night, he wasn’t in the mood to mince words. “But once you’re out of the Inner Keep, whether you leave or stay in The Gift is your choice. Currently, the population under my rule is severely disproportionate to the territory. If Lady Asha is willing to settle in The Gift, marry, have children, and raise the first generation of native subjects for the Night’s Watch, I would personally welcome it.”

“&￥#%*.” Aegor swore he was being serious, but Asha clearly took it as mockery. Her brows shot up and she cursed in Ironborn slang that few could understand. Then, realizing her position and fearing Aegor might take offense if he understood the insult, she quickly changed the subject. “Keep your broken arrow to fool someone else. I don’t want it. And don’t think I came here to beg for mercy or charity. I came to talk about something serious. Have you ever considered the future of the Iron Islands?”

(To be continued.)

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep