The only company that Grigg had was the sound of water trickling through rocks and mounds of slush, and dribbling down into the icy cold pond below. The blood red leaves of the weirwood tree surrounded him like a thick blanket, and the face carved into the tree watched over him from behind. He felt safe in the weirwood, as all Free Folk felt safe among their Gods.
Grigg the Trickster, his people called him, for he was sly and cunning like a fox and as nimble as the Children of the Forest from the legends. In his youth, he stole many women, and now he was a man of twenty-and-seven, tempered for battle. Or in his case, for an invasion.
He looked to the skies and closed his eyes as a breeze took him by surprise. The Gods are speaking to me, he thought. He listened but could not decipher any message among the northern winds, perhaps he was hearing things. "Grigg?" a deep, thrum of a voice came from behind him.
There stood Raymun Redbeard, a hulking man, with a hulking aura. "Did I miss the feast? I was hoping for a nice cut of the stag, if that fat oaf Borrin didn't get to it first," he saw a look of remorse in Raymun's blue eyes. "Or is something wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong. I just needed to breathe," Raymun said gruffly. He made his way across the wet, dew-ridden grass, and knelt beside the trickle of water. Wiping away some of the slush, he let the water flow down into the pool. He stared into the pool of water, stroking his long red whiskers with great distress. "We're amassing quite an army here, Grigg. The realm will not be prepared for us."
"No, they won't. We'll strike them hard and fast. We'll take their wives and foster their children and it'll all be ours once again," Grigg said. "But we can't do that without you in a sane state of mind."
"I am sane, Trickster."
Grigg shook his head, his mind is clouded. "You keep lying to yourself. It doesn't change what I said." Is it that whore again, the one he raved about?
Raymun Redbeard smiled, "I just saw Thalia again."
I was right. "And what did she say?"
"She wouldn't talk to me," Raymun said. "And when I wouldn't leave, she pushed me. I left a nice big piece of meat outside of her tent. Hopefully she will take that as an apology."
Grigg felt like hurling. "You are the one who will lead us Raymun. You mustn't let a woman manipulate you like this. You do not leave her gifts as an apology, you take her as yours," Grigg said. He slid a bone dagger from its sheath and washed some blood off in the waters. A mixture of blood and water trickled down into the pool that Raymun had cleared up. "The others will not follow you, if you do not act with strength."
"I act how I please, Grigg. And Thalia will come around, do not worry. But we have other things to discuss. The Ice-river clans have joined us now, although they were bound to come around eventually. This morning a messenger came. A messenger from Thenn."
Grigg perked up. "So the Thenn want to align with us? This is what we needed Raymun, the final push towards initiating the invasion. What did the messenger say?"
"He said 'The Magnar of Thenn will not bend the knee, but he will aid the self-proclaimed King-Beyond-the-Wall in his efforts. The Thenn march two days behind me. The Magnar asks to have a seat beside the King-Beyond-the-Wall in all of his decisions, and any women of his choosing.'" Raymun repeated the message in the Old Tongue.
"We must deal with the one called Kygyrn, he's the Magnar of Thenn now. Good. That is better then not having the Thenns beside us."
"Perhaps, but Kygyrn is not an easy man to please," Raymun said. "What if we fail. What if the Nights Watch thwart us before we even get near the Wall."
Grigg smiled. "Then we go out killing every single crow we can."
The words did not settle Raymun, but they made him feel better, they resolved his doubts and frustrations temporarily. "You are a good friend, Grigg. A better friend then I have known for some time. I've got a gift for you."
The free folk were never partial towards the idea of gift giving, which made Grigg uncertain of what Raymun meant. He had seen one man give a gift before, it was a gift of a knife in the neck, to another man who slept with his wife.
Raymun pulled out a piece of cloth. There was something wrapped inside of it.
Grigg took the cloth wrapping and unraveled what lay inside. "I claimed it from a crow many years ago. He cried like a baby. He must've been quite highborn to have something so rich," Grigg touched the steel. It had ripples of red melded with the dark hue of the steel. "They call it dragonsteel, down south."
A dragonsteel dagger, so fine that it could cut a man to ribbons. "Know that should the need arise, I will die for you, Raymun Redbeard."
"The moment you accept this gift, I wouldn't expect any less of you, Grigg the Trickster. Now come, let us feast."
Raymun left, leaving Grigg alone with the weirwood. Another breeze came, blowing his hair back,and that time he swore he heard them speak. Protect him, Trickster, for he is the last protector of the Old Ways.
"It will be hard to protect him," Grigg smirked. "When it is me who will eventually kill him."