Hello!
First of all, I made a big mistake last chapter, I said Joffrey was dead, HE IS NOT! He's very much alive and cruel and awful.
Now, for today's chapter, we got some action going on at the Wall and the dream will be one that had been foreseen many chapters back;).
As always, thank you for the support!
Enjoy!
Chapter XXXIX: The Wanderers of the Wall
Rhoynax was already agitated when he reached her. Smoke was getting out of her nostrils and she stomped the ground with her enormous feet and the claws at the top of her wings. She bared her teeth towards the field in front of Castle Black. Daeron did not see them yet, but the blasts had been heard, he guessed one of the scouts must have seen them coming. It was a good thing Daeron had dreamt of the wildlings, if he had not, then there would have been no scouts and the sworn brothers of the Night's Watch would have been caught before dawn still in their beds. Per chance, maybe some villagers around would have alerted the Night's Watch, but it was unlikely, no villager had come in fact.
Daeron climbed onto his saddle and tried to get Rhoynax to calm down. He had no wish to kill all the wildlings. All he wanted to do was stop them and talk. He did not order Rhoynax to fly, instead she walked like a huge, awkward horse, to stand in front of the gate. Ser Alliser joined him on an actual horse soon after. He held a torch in his hand and ordered the gate closed. If the wildlings did attack despite the dragon, the men inside would be ready. As ready as a bunch of cripples, children and a handful of mediocre men could be anyway. Daeron and Ser Alliser waited in silence. Soon enough, out of nowhere, there was a battle cry. It was not very loud, the wildlings had to be no more than fifty. They were not shouting anything in particular – not like in the battles Daeron had fought alongside Robb where men would chant the name of their leader or the castle they had come from – it was just a guttural roar. Daeron smirked, for, as soon as they started to see torches and human forms on the hill, running, Rhoynax gave them her own roar and spat fire into the cold dark air. This was a warning.
It seemed to work as the wildlings halted almost immediately. Daeron could not see their faces but no doubt they were astonished and dumbfounded. He let a few seconds pass to see if the wildlings would start their charge again. They did not.
"We were waiting for you Tormund Giantsbane." Daeron boomed. He was curious to know how the man had acquired such an alias. Ser Alliser had told him what he knew of their opponent the night before. "Please, walk forward, you and your men." They did not. No problem for Daeron, Rhoynax moved forward and just for show, he ordered her to set a few trees on fire, that way he would see the people he was facing.
Tormund was a big man tall and broad of shoulders. His red hair glowed in the fire as did the hair of the woman. Ygritte if his dream could be trusted. Daeron also saw the man with rags on his head, up close, he looked thin, a bag of skin and bones, but his eyes glittered. He had a menacing stare about him. Other men seemed less important in their party. At least they had been when Daeron dreamt of them. Some were bald but most wore long matted and dirty hair. The furs made it difficult to distinguish who was a man and who was a woman. In any case, most of them looked startled, at best, or frightened to death.
"There, much better now that I can see you." Daeron said with a grin. He did not want to be cocky, there was nothing exceptional in scaring off a band of wildlings with a dragon, but he had to put on a mask of confidence he knew.
"How… how d'you know who I am?" Tormund asked. Daeron guessed the man usually commanded respect and fear from his men, but there, despite his efforts, he sounded like a frightened kitten.
"Who has not heard of you?" Daeron replied cryptically. "Now, why don't you all relinquish your weapons so that we can go inside and talk? I am sure you have a perfect reason for wanting to visit Castle Black at such an hour."
One of the men, a bald one, spat noisily on the ground. "We aren't here t'visit, boy! We are here t'see y'all die." Then, he did something very stupid, he let loose an arrow at Rhoynax. Her scales protected her from the poorly made weapon so she was just mildly annoyed by it. But Daeron decide to make an example of the man. Still on Rhoynax's back, he got closer to the man who had just shot at him. Instinctively, all the other wildlings backed away. Daeron could see even the man wanted to flee, but he did not. Daeron wondered why. Maybe he did not want to be seen as a coward. Maybe he wanted to die. Or maybe he was just testing Daeron.
"Dracarys." Whatever his reasons, he died instantly when the dragon flames reached him. Twenty or so wildlings fled, some might have soiled themselves, there was no telling with all the furs, but they were all frightened, that much was clear. "Other volunteers?" Daeron asked.
No one moved. At least amongst the wildlings because in the Night's Watch, someone had opened the doors and was running toward Daeron and Ser Alliser. "Your Grace! Lord Commander!" The man called forgetting Thorne was not Lord Commander yet. "The bonfire! It's begun!"
Daeron barely heard Tormund protest. "How'd ye even know of th'bonfire?!"
Instead, the young king turned to Ser Alliser. "Put them in cells until I come back. Guard the gate, I will take care of the Wall." He ordered and after he saw the man nod, he whispered to Rhoynax. "Sovegon." They took to the sky and landed on the Wall. Men had been posted there, they were all looking at the same thing. Past the Wall, there were two miles of open field, icy and white with snow and beyond that, a forest. It was a forest of mostly dark pine trees as other trees could not survive in these cold weathers. Here, the best of summer was equivalent to the worst of winter in King's Landing. This forest, the haunted forest it was called, had been set ablaze on at least three miles long. The flames were so tall they reached heights three times the highest tree at least. It really was the biggest bonfire the North had ever seen, Daeron thought. But not the biggest of Westeros. It was nothing compared to the field of fire he had seen the night before.
Men noticed he had arrived, and they turned to him for guidance. "They will attack soon. When they do, shoot flaming arrows at them. Rhoynax and I will take care of those who get too close to the Wall. Do not stop until I come back." He ordered.
Just as he finished his command and the men answered "Yes, your Grace", a war cry was heard. The wildlings did not attack with men first, they sent giants mounted on mammoths. Less easy to kill with simple arrows, and crossbows were in short supply at the Wall. Rhoynax took to the sky once more. She just roared for now. It had been enough for the small host of wildlings attacking Castle Black and once again, her warnings stopped the running men of the attackers. The men, but not the giants. They were bothered by the dragon as much as Daeron would have been bothered by a fly. Their mammoths did not stop and soon they were almost at the Wall. Daeron plummeted down on his dragon's back and when they were close enough, Rhoynax unleashed her fire on the beast aiming for the gate. Mammoth and giants proved too big a prey for the still young dragon. They did catch fire and the mammoths sent their riders to the ground, but they did not die immediately. The faints lying on the ground perished in the next salve of fire. But their mounts, frightened by the flames, started running back towards the wildling lines, with their furs on fire. They would die, but not before running into the men and killing many of them, crushed under the weight and the legs of the monstrous animals.
This seemed to wake the wildlings up. They resumed their charge. Arrows started flying again from the safety of the Wall. Some were burning, others were not. Most did not claim there aims but some did. Daeron did not want to do that, but he had to. The Wall had to stand, and this invasion had to stop. If the wildlings were admitted into the Realm, it would be according to his terms not theirs. About half of the roaring men made it to the last half mile where Daeron was waiting for them. They all perished under Rhoynax's heat. They must have been desperate, the young king thought. Surely, they knew that they would die if they attacked a dragon. They could not hope to resist with their rusted weapons and no armour.
In the distance, a horn was blown, the retreat, hopefully. He waited a few more minutes to be certain, and when no more attacks started, he went back to the top of the Wall. He ordered the men to stop and all those who were not on watch duty to get down to Castle Black.
...
"Wish we had a dragon every time those fuckers attacked." Ser Alliser japed when he saw the King. "Shall we go to the gate to meet them, your Grace?"
Daeron nodded. "Aye, bring our prisoners from the first attack." For what seemed like the hundredth time this night, he crossed over the Wall on Rhoynax. But this time, he landed in front of the gates, just as the dawn started to break.
Behind him, the huge solid oak and steel door was lifted up in a great clammer of chains behind him. Ser Alliser emerged accompanied by two dozens sworn brothers and the twenty-four prisoners they had taken. They were waiting for Mance, surely, now that he had seen he could not cross the Wall, he would come to talk with them. The attack of the night was a test. The King-beyond-the-Wall wanted to upraise the defences of the Night's Watch. No doubt to see how many men he would truly need to send to make it fall. Now he knew that if he did attack fully, all his men would die. They could not resist a dragon.
As the sun started to shine on the forest and the snow began to sparkle, the wildlings appeared on the edge of the forest. They were not roaring, not running, just calmly walking. A small group of about ten people detached from the mass and rode towards the Wall on horseback. Amongst them, Mance Rayder. They stopped a few feet away from Daeron and Ser Alliser and as they dismounted, Daeron did the same, only from his dragon and not a horse. He noticed Ser Alliser did not. He stayed atop his horse.
"Mance Rayder." Daeron greeted looking at the man who looked surprised to be recognised. Behind him, Tormund Giantsbane mumbled something unintelligible. "Glad we can talk civically after this very unnecessary attack."
"This was necessary boy. You do not know what you are talking about." The man replied defiantly.
"Careful Deserter." Ser Alliser intervened. So, the man had been a sworn brother once. "You are talking to his Grace, Daeron Targaryen, the Third of his name, son of Rhaegar and Lyanna Targaryen."
Mance looked at Daeron with interest. "You were raised as the Quiet Wolf's bastard were you not?" Daeron nodded wondering how he knew and if it had been so evident how no one had guessed who he was when he lived at Winterfell. The man scoffed. "Petty wars of power, I don't care who rules the South. As I said, this was and will be necessa…"
Daeron did not give him the chance to finish his sentence. "You attacked because you want to cross the Wall, to escape the White Walkers." He commented.
All the wildlings' eyes widened in unison. "You know?"
"I've heard." Daeron corrected. "It does not mean I believe it but since you managed to unit the wildlings together there must be at least a little truth about it."
"The White Walkers are real boy!" Mance insisted.
"Your Grace." Ser Alliser corrected glaring at the King-beyond-the-Wall.
"And if you do not let us through, more and more of us are going to die and join his army until it is so big there will be no stopping him… even with dragons." Rayder completely ignored the acting Commander of the Night's Watch.
"We are letting you through." Daeron nodded to Thorne while Mance looked surprised. The Commander was not exactly looking comfortable but he did not protest. "Only with certain conditions. We cannot have a mob of wildlings invading the North."
"Free folks… we are free folks, not wildlings." One man corrected. Daeron guessed it made sense for them to have their own name.
"Free folks." He acknowledged with a nod.
"Free folks will not bend to a southern ruler." Mance warned a little aggressively. Daeron's gaze which had been calm until now became harder then.
"They are free to die out there then." Daeron threatened. "Or to die burning while they try to breach the Wall."
"Dragons are not invincible." The older man commented which made Rhoynax hiss loudly. One of the wildlings' horses ran away in fear followed by its rider who abandoned after a few seconds.
"Be realistic, Rayder." Daeron replied. "Your people are armed with iron and rusted pikes, they have no armour and no discipline. They would struggle to break through even if I did not have a dragon. We are offering you a fair escape, do not turn it down."
"What would be the conditions?" The man asked wearily.
"You would be settled in the Gift under the command of the Night's Watch." Daeron assumed the former brother of the Night's Watch knew the geography of the Wall. "The castles that are unmanned would be yours to defend. I am sure you know that the Watch needs it. All we ask in return are two things. The first is that you help the Watch against the threat of the White Walkers, if indeed it is real. And second, that you obey the law. No raids against villages, no rape and no murder. If Ser Alliser or any man I or he have put in command gives you an order, you follow it."
"Can we make demands, your Grace?" The effort he had to make to say the title was clear. Daeron nodded. He did not see the harm in hearing his grievances. "The dead from last night, let us burn them." This was a weird demand. One Daeron did not see why he would refuse, though he had thought the wildlings buried their dead, like the northerners.
"Of course. You can assemble the bodies and I will have Rhoynax burn them if you wish." The man mouthed his thanks. He looked relieved. Daeron wondered why. "Why is it such a concern to you?"
"If they are not burnt, the White Walkers rise the dead for their army." Daeron nodded, that was indeed part of the legends of the White Walkers. "With your leave. I will bring your terms to my men. Let me warn you, not all will agree."
"They are free to go back where they come from." Daeron shrugged.
"Can we get Tormund and his men back?"
"Of course." Protest started rising amongst the sworn brothers but the joined stares of Daeron and Ser Alliser stopped them.
...
In the end, it was no less than seventy-five thousand 'free folks' who crossed the Wall that evening. Three quarters of Mance's men had accepted the terms which led Daeron to believe, once more, that there had to be a real threat beyond the Wall. He was standing at the top of the said Wall watching the continuous column of fur-wearing people waiting to cross. A camp would be made outside the palisade for the night and in the morning, Daeron and Ser Alliser would see how the refugees could be distributed in the sixteen abandoned castles of the Wall.
"No!" Daeron remembered his exchange of words with Ser Alliser. "I cannot allow you to kill their King-beyond-the-Wall. His men follow him." He had answered the Commander's demand to give Mance to the Watch.
"Your Grace, he is a deserter! He needs to be executed. This is the law." Thorne had reminded him with outrage in his voice.
"Tell me Ser Alliser, how many times in the History of Westeros have the wildlings banded together? What do you think will happen if their leader is executed?" He recalled looked straight at the man's eyes.
"It does not change the fact that he is a criminal." Ser Alliser had persisted for over half an hour.
"Thank you for taking my defence against Thorne." Daeron did not hear Mance Rayder coming behind him. Reluctantly, the acting Commander had finally agreed and gone back to arranging the elections of the new Lord Commander. Maester Aemon, who had spent the attack in his study with the fat Samwell Tarly, agreed. The Watch needed stability now.
"You are too valuable to be executed." Daeron replied to the first King-beyond-the-Wall who had bent the knee. He was holding what looked like a sword but Daeron could not be certain since it was wrapped in a blanket.
"I believe this should be yours." He handed him the weapon. Daerontook it out of the blanket. It was indeed a sword. A longsword with a slender blade. The hilt was black steel save for the pommel which depicted a golden flame. The cross guard was golden as well and wavy, with a huge ruby set in the middle. The hilt in itself was magnificent but the blade was even better. The rippled patterns were unmistakable. It was Valyrian steel.
"This is…" Daeron had trouble speaking.
"Dark sister." Mance Rayder confirmed.
"How?"
The man sighed and sat on one of the ice benches, motioning for Daeron to join him. "I left the Watch ten years ago. You see, while I was a ranger at the Shadow Tower, I was injured and cured by a free folk woman. When I came back, my 'brothers' dismissed my pleas to help the free folk who had been so nice to me. So, I left. I had seen how people live beyond the Wall, I had seen some of the dangers and I wanted to help. At first, I went back to the healer woman and her tribe started to follow me. With every village I visited, our ranks grew. Some were charmed by my songs, some wanted adventures, but others were frightened and wanted my protection." He paused. "I did not know why. Until I arrived at another village, further north than I had ever been. There the people were scared to death, but they still welcomed me and enjoyed my songs.
"The walkers attacked deep in the night. I lost half of my men that day. And I killed my first wight with fire. The White Walkers themselves arrived only at the end, to rise my poor men as their slaves. I fled." There was a single tear running down his cheek. "I did not know what to do anymore and this is when they found me. The Children of the Forest." The Children? They had all died hundreds of years before. "Not all are dead, though there must be less than a hundred of them now. They brought me to the Three-eyed Raven."
"The Three-eyed Raven?" Daeron repeated this time. He had not heard of this legend before.
Mance nodded. "He was tangled into the roots of a weirwood tree. If he leaves it, he dies, for he has long outlive the span of human life. He wears is black garment from the Night's Watch, all rotted and torn. He was once called Brynden Rivers, now the Children call him the last greenseer. He can see the past, the present and the future." Brynden Rivers, Daeron thought, he had long wondered when he would meet Bloodraven in his dreams. But he had not, because the Targaryen great bastard was still alive. "The Children brought the sword and he told me it was not for me. He told me I had to unit the free folks and cross the Wall. He told me I would know who to give this to. Who its next wielder would be.
"After that, I united all the clans. I fought five other would-be Kings-beyond-the-Wall, including Tormund. Two died, three yielded, and now here we are. I yielded to you and I believe Dark Sister has found its next wielder." He ended his story. Daeron was fascinated by the blade as he thanked the man.
...
The dream was familiar, but it no less confused Daeron. Ha was back in the field of fire he had seen after meeting Stannis Baratheon over a year before. And the same woman was looking at him. The woman dressed in red, with silver-gold hair and mismatched eyes, one blue and one green. She was beautiful, the most beautiful woman Daeron had ever seen, though he would never say that to Arianne.
She did not pray this time, she smiled at Daeron. "Now is the time." She was probably referring to the first dream. 'It's too soon' she had said then. "Welcome, Daeron the Third."
"Who are you?" Daeron asked.
"Shiera. Seastar." Brynden Rivers' paramour, of course. "R'hllor has given you His many gifts now. You are unburnt, you wield our ancestor's sword and you ride a dragon. Soon, he will give you new allies."
"R'hllor?" He butchered the name, Daeron had heard this name before, in the first dream and in the mouth of the red priestess of Stannis.
"The Lord of Light. After they sent Brynden to the Wall, I went to Essos and joined his temple where I stayed until my death. I could have avoided this death, but it was not my path." This certainly was a mysterious way to talk about her own death. "He is the one true god, the god who will save us all and guide humanity through the Long Night by giving us Azor Ahai." She told him.
"The Prince who was promised?" He translated.
Siera nodded. "I believe you are Azor Ahai. But that is not what we are here to discuss." She smiled a sweet smile.
"Isn't it?" Daeron frowned. She had just told him she thought he was the Prince who was promised and then she did not want to explain.
She shook her head. "No… I am here to show you your path." Daeron could swear he saw routes, roads and ways in the flame. His confusion and head turning seemed to amuse the woman. "You can see a great deal in the flames, my boy. I think you're already on the good track. First, you will go North. But once you have seen what you need, leave! Go to Essos. There you will find your aunt, for sure, but you will find much more important things there. Trust Rhoynax, she knows what she is doing. But do not dwell too long, you will not have much time to prepare and unite the Seven Kingdoms then. To save the North, I am afraid you will have to start there and move southwards, no matter the protests and the logic. They will fall, one by one… But some of yours will fall as well. Only if they fall can you rise, my boy." She did not pause, so he had no time to ask his questions. Yet, he had so many. He thought he would for a minute as the woman walked closer and took him by the shoulders. But he still did not have time. "R'hllor fill my boy's hearts with fire, so he may walk your shining path! R'hllor, you are the light in his eyes, the fire in his heart, the heat in his loins. Yours is the sun that warms his days, yours the stars that guard him in the dark of night. Lord of Light, defend him so that he can defend us! The night is dark and full of terrors. Lord of Light, protect him." This had to be some sort of prayer or blessing.
Then, she did what she had done the first time. She pushed him backwards and he fell into the fire. "Wait!" He screamed, but too late. He would soon wake up sweating, he knew.
I hope you liked the backstory for Mance, I felt it was necessary since he's going to be around for a bit ;).
What did you think of the dream?
Don't hesitate to tell me if I made other mistakes x)x)x).
Next chapter: Daeron gets news from the South in an unexpected way and another army tries to cross the Wall.
Guest reviews:
- (Hitman) I completely agree with your analysis.
I knew this title would make people react ;).
I wanted to get rid of him as soon as possible.