Two months later, neither she nor her friends had come up with any semblance of a feasible plan. Caitie's sixteenth nameday had come and gone, but the wisdom everyone told her she would gain did nothing to help her figure out how to save Gilly.
And now, as if things weren't bad enough, everyone around Caitie was slowly dying. Each day they stayed at Craster's Keep, it got worse.
One brother, named Bannen, died of a broken leg after a long bout of pain and misery. The funeral was solemn and quiet as their stomachs growled from hunger. Caitie stood between Edd and Sam as they watched the flames consume Bannen's body.
Finally, the lord commander finished his eulogy and said, "We shall never see his like again."
"And now his watch is ended," the rest of them chanted in unison.
"And now his watch is ended."
The lord commander turned away to walk back to the keep while the others watched the funeral pyre continue to burn.
"Didn't think a broke foot could kill a man," said Grenn.
Rast didn't take his eyes off the fire as he answered. "It wasn't his foot that killed him. That bastard Craster starved him to death."
"Craster's got his daughter's to feed," Sam said.
"You on his side?"
"We can't just show up and steal all his food."
Caitie sighed at Sam's naïveté. He was too good sometimes. "Much as I hate to agree with Rast on anything, he's right."
"We're brothers of the Night's Watch, not thieves," Sam argued.
"The day we leave," Rast said, "Craster will tap a barrel of our wine and sit down to a feast of ham and potatoes and laugh at us, starving in the snow. He's a bloody Wildling is all he is."
There was nothing anyone could say to that, so they ignored him.
"Never knew Bannen could smell so good," Edd said.
Caitie refused to dignify that with a response. She would never eat another person—not to see her family again, not to bring Jon back, not even to end the war.
The others started back into the keep, but Caitie held off when she noticed Ghost whining behind her. "It's okay, Ghost," she said. "Go hunt. We'll be all right."
He didn't move, whining still.
"Go on." She jerked her head towards the forest, and this time the direwolf listened.
Once back inside the warmth of the keep, Caitie allowed her mind to wander, trying, once again, to think up a plan to get Gilly out of this awful place. But before she could stew for long, Craster started talking.
"You have one son, don't you, Mormont?"
The lord commander looked up from what he was writing and nodded.
"I had my ninety-ninth. You ever meet a man with ninety-nine sons?"
Caitie held her tongue, but just barely, and only because Mormont flicked his gaze over to her as a warning.
"And more daughters than I can count."
"I'm glad for you," the lord commander said diplomatically.
"Are you now?" Craster didn't sound convinced. "Me, I'll be glad when you and yours are gone."
Caitie was dismayed to have something about which she and Craster agreed.
"As soon as our wounded are strong enough," Mormont promised.
"Bah. They're as strong as they're gonna get. Them that's dying—why don't you cut their throats and be done with it?"
Caitie grabbed hold of Sam's arm and clutched it tightly, while Grenn and Edd exchanged looks of disgust.
"Or leave them if you've not the stomach, and I'll sort them out myself."
The lord commander stayed completely silent, and Caitie wondered what was going through his mind. At least she knew he would never agree to Craster's suggestion. Mormont was many things but above all, he cared about his men.
Caitie hoped this would be the end of the conversation, and they could finish warming themselves quietly, but alas, she couldn't be so lucky.
"Whose throat you gonna cut, old man?" Karl Tanner said coolly.
She began to feel queasy, seeing the expression on his face. Tanner was looking for a fight, and no doubt, Craster would give him one.
"Wait outside," ordered Mormont.
"It's cold outside, and there's nothing to eat."
"My wives gave you bread."
"There's sawdust in the bread."
"You don't like it," Craster said, "you go out there and eat the snow."
Tanner advanced. "I'd rather eat what you've got hidden away."
Caitie stood still as a statue, waiting for somebody—anybody—to step in.
The lord commander finally stood. "I told you to wait outside."
"He's sitting there, drinking our wine, eating his fill while we die!" Rast shouted.
Craster jumped to his feet. "I gave you crows enough—I've got to feed my women!"
How magnanimous of him, Caitie thought—to make sure his daughters were fed while he raped them.
"So, you admit you've got a hidden larder, then? How else'd you make it through winter?"
"Enough! Out!" Mormont bellowed. He sounded positively terrifying, and for a moment, Caitie thought everyone would listen.
But Craster had lost control of himself, screeching, "I am a godly man!" and a giggle burst from Caitie's lips before she could stop it.
Craster's head whipped in her direction. Caitie's eyes widened as he met her gaze.
Grenn moved in front of her defensively, but before Craster could run at them, Rast screamed, "You're a stingy bastard!"
"Bastard," he growled, picking up his ax and waving it at Rast threateningly. "Out with ya, you little thief!" He glared at Tanner. "And you!" Then he rounded on Caitie and her friends. "And you! Go sleep in the cold on empty bellies! I'll chop the hands on the next man who calls me bastard."
No one said a word, and Craster relaxed a little.
Mormont grabbed Rast and started to drag him out of the keep, but then Tanner closed his eyes, coming to a decision, and spoke.
"You are a bastard. A daughter-fucking, Wildling bastard."
Caitie's heart dropped into her stomach as Craster ran at Tanner. Quick as lightning, Tanner had his knife in the older man's throat. He threw Craster to the floor and grabbed the nearest woman to him by her hair, forcing her to look at him. "Now show us where he hides the food, or you'll get the same as he did."
Mormont turned back around and, seeing the commotion, shouted, "The Gods will curse us for this! By all the laws—"
"There are no laws beyond the Wall," Tanner replied.
Mormont unsheathed his sword and pointed it at him. "Unhand her."
Tanner threw the girl down and raised his arms in surrender.
"I shall have your head for—" But before Mormont could complete the sentence, Rast, who had been standing behind the lord commander, stabbed him in the back.
Caitie audibly gasped, looking around as Craster's Keep devolved into chaos.
Craster lay on the floor, dead, and Grenn left Caitie's side to run at Tanner while she stood, watching in horror, unable to move.
It wasn't until she heard Sam cry, "Caitie!" that she saw a man in black lunge at her with his sword.
Caitie barely managed to cross her daggers in time, blocking the blade from killing her. She turned her head and yelled, "Sam, get out of here!"
The mutineer who'd attacked moved away to strike again, but before he could, without thinking, Caitie slid a dagger between his ribs.
He choked on blood as he fell to the floor and died.
She couldn't take her eyes off him. She had never killed a man before—well, not a living one. Caitie had stopped his heart, ended his life, and there was no coming back from it.
But eventually, the need to see her friend safe won out against the shock, and she forced herself to look back over to Sam.
He was gone. Caitie hoped it meant he'd found Gilly and escaped.
Another mutineer rushed at her. She rolled out of the way, trying not to kill him—one death on her hands was enough—but he refused to relent. After his third attempt at sticking his sword in her belly, Caitie stabbed him in the head.
She almost threw up, looking at her blade sticking out from the middle of his forehead.
Once Caitie had pulled it out with shaking hands, she saw the biggest opponent she'd ever faced coming towards her. She slipped between his legs and backstabbed him before he could even attempt a blow at her. He keeled over face-first onto the floor.
There was a pause in the commotion, so she looked around the room for Karl Tanner. He had started this—maybe if she killed him, she could end it.
Grenn had engaged Tanner in combat, but Tanner outmatched him. Caitie started to run over to help. Suddenly, five mutineers were surrounding her. She killed one by stabbing him in the eye before the others could do anything, but then the biggest of the four left grabbed her and threw her to the ground.
Caitie's daggers fell out of her hands, and he picked them up. A second later, Rast shoved Grenn and Edd onto the floor next to her. Everyone else was either dead or had participated in the mutiny—Caitie was horrified to see it was mostly the latter.
Cowering women littered the keep, but among it all, Caitie saw the body of Lord Commander Mormont. Someone had stabbed him so many times he barely looked like a man.
Caitie had spoken to the lord commander earlier today. How could he be full of life one moment, barking commands, and then just gone the next?
Even with everything he had done, Mormont was her family, both by blood and through her vows. And these men had killed him.
"What are you waiting for?" Grenn shouted. "Kill us!"
Caitie tore her eyes away from the lord commander's body to look up at Tanner, waiting for the blow. If she was going to die, she wanted it to be now—before anyone found out.
"We should," Rast said.
But all Tanner did was smile viciously. "Not yet. Dirk—put 'em in chains and throw 'em in the outhouse."
Dirk grabbed some chains off a nearby wall and fastened them around Caitie, Grenn, and Edd's wrists—tightly. Then, he locked them in place and pocketed the key.
Karl Tanner's cold grin disappeared as he looked directly at Caitie. "Too bad that bastard Mormont ordered me to leave the stewards alone," he said. "You could have joined us."
Caitie blinked up at him in surprise. She always thought Tanner had gotten bored with her on their way to the Fist, but apparently not—Mormont had made him stop. Another reason she wanted to retch at the sight of his mutilated corpse.
"But instead," Tanner sighed without any real emotion, "you killed four of my men. So you get to go with your friends."
He nodded at Dirk, who shepherded the three of them to the outhouse.
Caitie was on the verge of panic by the time Dirk had left. It was setting in that she was now a captive of Tanner and Rast—and it that was only a matter of time until they discovered her. Lord Commander Mormont was dead, Sam was gone—Gods only knew if he was okay—and the mutineers were now torturing Craster's daughters. Ghost had been hunting, so at least she knew he would be all right, but still, it seemed as if there was no good ending for her or her friends.
So when Grenn asked her quietly, "You all right?" Caitie found herself laughing hysterically.
"Seven Hells, what do you think?"
"Well, I thought I'd ask." He tried to shrug, but it was difficult in chains. "At least they haven't killed us."
"Yet," she reminded him.
Edd grunted. "Well, if you ask me, I'd say we're fucked."
Caitie stared down at the chains binding her wrists, heard the screams of Craster's daughters being raped, and decided that Edd was right: she was well and truly fucked.
I always knew the show conveys time poorly in the show, but holy crap, season 3 really drove it home for me. I decided because no one explicitly says it, I'm going to act like more time has passed in episode 4 than was implied.