CHAPTER 18:
Four years ago.
Jon and Tormund's deal with the Iron Bank yielded dividends almost immediately. The Bank lent them the money to dredge the Harbour at Hardhome, and the additional space and increased access for larger ships increased the trade traffic in the Far North fairly quickly. The Wildings shipped fish, furs and lumber in their first flotilla, and found eager buyers. They branched out later to other areas.
As long as the Iron Bank collected five per cent of the profits, they were content to continue to direct trade to Hardhome. The first loan was settled within a surprisingly short time; then they started in on the loan to the Night's Watch. The accumulated interest made this a far more formidable proposition, and again Tormund told Jon he thought paying it was a mistake.
"There's two reasons I want to pay it," Jon said. "For one, it gives us a good credit rating with the Iron Bank, which is not nothing. For another, I want the Night's Watch to be indebted to us, and not to them."
"I might agree with you on the first at least," Tormund admitted. "Especially as that snotty prick sent us the plans of that Ibbenese Whaler."
Jon grinned. "That's not because he likes us; it's because he dislikes the Ibbenese."
"What did they ever do to him?" Tormund asked.
"They defaulted on a loan," Jon said. "A great big one, too. And they never did repay it. The Iron Bank has a long memory."
"I'm sure that doesn't scare the Ibbenese."
"It should. Making an enemy like that was a damned bad idea. The Ibbenese could have paid it. They just got a little too full of themselves, and decided that the Iron Bank couldn't make them."
"So the Iron Bank is going to back us against the Ibbenese in a trade war?"
"We're going to sell very similar things to the Ibbenese, Tormund. Until we get established, we need guaranteed markets, or they'll undercut their prices to get rid of us. And as you saw, Nestoris wants us to compete with them in areas we've never even practiced before. The Iron Bank is prepared to back us, and provide us with a certain guaranteed income to start with. We shouldn't miss the opportunity."
Tormund gave Jon a sidelong look. "How did you find out about all this?"
"I've heard rumours," Jon said.
"Beats me where you get your information," Tormund said. "There's no crows anymore."
"Crows are not absolutely necessary," Jon said, in a bland tone.
"Yeah, right," Tormund said, rolling his eyes. "What happens when the Ibbensese forget about the trade element, and just start a war with us?"
"They're not known as fighters," Jon said. "Which is not true of the Wildings."
"The Ibbenese are the best sailors around," Tormund pointed out.
"Yes, they are; but we're learning fast," Jon said. "Jarl and Javier have taught our new crews a lot, and the Skagosi have bought in as well. And I like the adjustments our shipbuilders are making to our ships. Pretty soon we'll be able to show our heels to just about anyone."
"And is it worth it, Jon? Weren't we happier with the old ways?"
"The old ways? And how many Wildling children died before their first name day?" Jon asked in a low voice, without looking at him. "So many that it was considered bad luck to name them until their second nameday."
Tormund muttered: "Low blow, Jon."
Jon knew that Tormund's first attachment had resulted in three children dead in infancy. His wife had then died trying to unsuccessfully birth a fourth. He had had two subsequent wives, and several other children, but the only survivors were two daughters, small girls cared for by his grandmother.
"I'm sorry, Tormund," Jon said. "I don't mean to hurt you, you know that. But it's easy to live as your forebears did, and hard to change things. People fight it, because they're afraid of leaping into a void. Even if the void might be better."
"No, don't apologize," Tormund said, roughly, standing up. "You have a point."
Jon knew this admission was hard for Tormund to make, so he doubly appreciated it. "Better food, better clothing, better shelter, better medicines, they all help," he said.
"You know something, Jon?" Tormund said, suddenly. "Those Ibbenese, they're done like dinner. We'll show them what happens when they don't pay their bloody debts!"
"That we will," Jon said, pleased.
"Is that why you're so set on paying the other debt? The Night's Watch one?"
"Partially, yes. The Iron Bank's support can make or break us, and I'd rather it did the first."
"And what's the other part?"
"The Night's Watch is penniless, and nobody is helping to support it now. Not Sansa, and not Bran. How it is going to feed itself? And what is it supposed to do?"
"What it always did - nothing," Tormund said.
"Your turn for a low blow, Tormund."
"You did it first, Jon, so don't complain."
"Agreed," Jon admitted. "The Night's Watch has no money, but it has plenty of assets. A lot of land, along the border and in Brandon's Gift and the New Gift, forests of timber in the West, and nineteen castles in various states of disrepair. The land, especially in the New Gift, is good. At one time there were hundreds of farms and orchards there."
Tormund was surprised. "What happened to them, then?"
"When the Night's Watch declined, the people in two Gifts couldn't be protected by them any longer, especially in the Western section Some drifted south; some went east to White Harbour. But in its day, that land was valuable, and produced good crops. It also supported herds of sheep, goats, and cattle. It could again."
"The place has no people anymore. The White Walkers took care of that."
"When we become more prosperous, we'll attract more people. People who could farm that land."
"If you can evict the Night's Watch from it, that is."
"I'm not planning any evictions," Jon said. "What do you give to the forgotten who have no purpose anymore?"
"I'm sure you'll tell me," muttered Tormund.
"You give them respect," Jon said.
"Oh, is that all it takes?" Tormund said. "And here we were fighting them all these years!"
"Times have changed, my friend. Times have changed."
Tormund rolled his eyes yet again. "Well, I guess we'll see," he said in a skeptical voice.
The Far North had been paying the Night Watch's debt for some time when Jon finallydecided that the time was ripe for a visit to Castle Black. Given that the Black Brothers might well try to execute him, he went with a sizable group of Wildlings to discuss the situation.
Castle Black looked neglected, Jon thought. Necessary repairs had not been done in some time, possibly due to a lack of money, but more likely due to a loss of hope. Only Tormund, Jon, and ten other Wildlings were allowed into the keep. Jon asked to see the Lord Commander.
He had expected hostility from the remains of the Watch, but saw only apathy. They greeted him without a flicker of any sort of emotion, and took them to the office of the Lord Commander.
Ser Denys Mallister was a man who had given his entire life to the Night's Watch. He had the respect of everyone that knew him, including Jon. But he had been considered too elderly for the post at the time of Jon's election - now he was ever more so. He received them politely, however, and listened carefully to their proposal.
"You understand that I cannot make such an important decision by myself," he said to Jon. "It will have to go an open vote."
Jon and Tormund agreed, and Mallister summoned all of the remaining members of the Night's Watch to the Great Hall. There were so few left that they fit around the great table used in the old days for feasts. Jon surreptitiously counted them; with Mallister included, they numbered just fifty, and nearly all of them were over forty. The younger men had simply deserted.
The Lord Commander stood, bracing himself against the table, and introduced Jon. In fact, he had to; most of the men around the table had manned the outer castles, and Jon was unfamiliar with most of them. That made it easier. He stood up and addressed them.
"I'm glad to receive such a gracious reception, given my history with the Night's Watch," Jon said.
"Have you come back to rejoin us?" one of the brothers asked him.
Jon shook his head. "No."
"You were commanded by the King to do so, weren't you?" another asked.
"By that time, the King had given the North over to his sister, and subtracted it from the Seven Kingdoms," Jon pointed out. "He therefore had no power over the Night's Watch, and no ability to command me to rejoin them, nor command them to allow me to do so."
The brothers considered this in silence for a moment.
"Did Queen Sansa command you to rejoin us?" this was a third man.
"No," Jon said. "She had no power to do that, either. I hadn't lived in the North for some time, so I was not her subject."
"You were Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, that's part of the North."
"That's not correct," Jon said. "The lands of the Night's Watch has been separate from the North for centuries. It was subject only to the Crown of Westeros, until that Crown abandoned it, along with the North."
"Abandoned it?" several people said at once.
"Ask your Lord Commander if the current King of the Six Kingdoms has provided any support for the Night's Watch since he ascended to the throne."
The group looked to Ser Denys, who shook his head.
"And what about Queen Sansa?" Jon asked him. "Has you asked her for support?"
Ser Denys looked at his hands, spread on the table before him. "I asked her, yes. She said it was her brother's responsibility. He said it was hers. As a result nobody has paid anything, nor given us any support."
"That must be difficult to accept given how much the Watch sacrificed in the War against the Dead," Jon said in a low voice.
This statement caused a murmur of resentment. "Everyone's forgotten that," a voice said bitterly. "They don't give a damn."
"I've had to beg, and precious little I've gotten for it," Ser Denys agreed. "And our debts are threatening to overwhelm us."
"I know," Jon said. "I had to borrow money from the Iron Bank of Braavos to keep the Watch fed when I was Lord Commander."
"They used to dunn us regularly for that debt," Ser Denys said. "They've stopped recently, thank the Gods."
"They've stopped because the Wildlings have assumed the debt, and are paying it," Jon said.
He expected skepticism on this point, and he got it. He offered Ser Denys the paperwork to prove it. The Lord Commander read it, and then looked up at Jon. "Why did you do this?"
"We know you can't pay it," Jon said.
"Why should the Wildlings care about that?" one of the brothers asked.
"Because like you, despite all their sacrifices in the war, no one has helped them since," Jon said. "They've had to help themselves."
"So?"
"You'll have to help yourselves, too. I believe that the best way for you to do that is to join with us."
"Join the Wildlings! Are you joking?"
"No, I'm not. I joined the Wildings, didn't I? They were the only people who accepted me, and helped me. And they've been good to me. You can do the same."
"Why should we do that?"
"Because nobody else is offering, that's why! The Six Kingdoms isn't, and the North isn't. You don't have enough men to recover on your own, and you're up to your eyeballs in debt. I'm suggesting to you that you join the Far North. Otherwise, you'll be scratching out a wretched living here until the last man of you dies. What sort of future is that?"
The room was silent.
"We'd be oathbreakers," someone said.
"No one else has kept their oaths to you," Jon pointed out. He wondered suddenly if he was talking about the Night's Watch or himself. "You can crumble to nothing, or you can take charge of your own fates. You're going to have to make changes, because things have changed. The Wall has little value to anyone now. But you still have land."
"But no people."
"That's what I mean about changes. There's no point in having no wives and no children anymore. You need families. You need financing in order to outfit yourselves for a new life. You need someone to pay your debts."
"And you'd do it?"
"We'd do it."
They debated the issue for the next three days, and at the end of the third night, the Night's Watch agreed to ally themselves with their ancient enemies. The vote was unanimous.