The floor of fallen pine leaves and dirt muffled the sound of Dacey's well-worn, dark leather boots as she crept towards the edge of the Eastern Woods. As silent as a peaceful bear, she pulled an arrow from her quiver and notched it to her old, weirwood bow. Dacey cautiously approached the abandoned hut built at the very end of the Eastern Woods facing the northern mountains and the southron coast of the Skirling Pass. From the corner of her eye, she saw her sister Alysane slowly crouch down, her bow and arrow at the ready. Dacey squinted. Yes, three boats – small rowboats – were heading her way.
Wildlings.
Dacey turned to Alysane. Kill them, she mouthed, making a shooting gesture. It is Mother's orders. No wildling survivors today. Over the last few days, the wildling sightings had increased rapidly – even more so than the Ironborn threat. Dacey's mother Lady Maege had in fact arranged for more men to be on wildling watch in the last few days than Ironborn patrol. "Men on wildling watch haven't increased in years," Mother had told Dacey and her sisters when they first noticed frequent wildling attempts to sail from Beyond the Wall to Northern lands. "Not since the rule of your great, great grandmother Lady Joss Mormont." She then scowled. "It is disgraceful, both Ironborn and wildlings. Both steal instead of sow like thieves caught and sent to the Wall."
No interrogation? Alysane mouthed back, slightly disappointed. Dacey studied Alysane's heavily callused hands. They were still bruised after she persuaded one of the captured wildlings to reveal a part of their plan. Alysane emerged with her hands covered in the wildling's blood; the wildling died a couple of hours later. It wasn't what Dacey would've done, but Mother had gave her approval with a curt, short nod and that was enough for Alysane.
Dacey shook her head. No interrogation. There was no point. Even if a weaker, more cowardly wildling did scream out vital information, sending a raven to the black brothers was almost impossible. The only useful information Alysane took out of that wildling was the confirmation that wildlings had been shooting down their ravens, the educated ones reading the messages and many of them cooking and eating the ravens apparently. The last Dacey viewed with doubt. Ravens had meat, but not much of it. She had never eaten a raven and never heard of a man – or woman – who had. Then again, wildlings did eat unusual food for survival and perhaps raven meat was one of them. Dacey suppressed a shudder. She waited as the three rowboats slowly came closer. It would be at least a quarter or even half of an hour until they were within shooting range. As Mother oft said, wilding and Ironborn watch was a waiting game.
"Reckon we'd be sailing to the mainland soon?" muttered Alysane, "to fight for real? All we've been doing for the last few weeks is shooting wildlings."
"We are defending Bear Island," Dacey said softly, her eyes fixed on the boats. It wasn't the first time Alysane complained that she was bored of wildling watch and wished Mother would send her with men to help fight at the Wall. "Besides, I don't think the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch will be pleased to see us at the Wall. We are women after all."
Alysane snorted. "Lord Commander Mallister is in no position to be picky."
Dacey sighed. "Troops were sent here to help defend Bear Island. If a wildling army lands and wins, they gain a wildling base and have a foot into the North. It's what we don't want. Why do you think most of the northern troops are placed on the coast of Bay of Seals and here?"
"Oh don't give me that lecture again."
"Then help defend our home, Alysane. If you don't want to be on patrol, you're more than welcome to help train the younger ones." When it was a time of war or battle, training sessions doubled in case there were heavy losses.
"Why do you think Mother sent Lyanna to Winterfell? Lyanna is old enough to join us in wilding patrol. If she was a babe in arms, sending her to the heart of the North would make sense. If Bear Island was under attack at all sides by Ironborn and wildlings, Mother would have ordered an evacuation for all of the children of Bear Island, not just Lyanna."
"Precautions perhaps. Wildlings are like Ironborn; cruel and vicious. If they do land here and defeat us, they will not spare any of us, child or greybeard. When it is all over, there won't be a single Bear Islander left. In days, Bear Island will be a wildling territory instead of northern land."
"That is a vast precaution, Sister. Bear Island will not fall to wildling scum."
"Any piece of land can fall to wildlings if it isn't properly defended," said Dacey bluntly. "You know that as well as I do. The boats will be here soon, so make your choice, Alysanne. Wildling watch with me or training. You are fortunate that it is our mother who is Lady of Bear Island, not our former good-aunt. If she was still here, one of us would've had to train her."
Alysane rolled her eyes. "By the old gods don't remind me. We would have lost Bear Island if that southron woman was still here. What Uncle Jorah had done…it was shameful. He should've married a good northern woman. What is it with our northern men and southron women? In the last two decades or so, I swear more northmen have married southroners than the last hundred years. Lord Stark to a Dornishwoman of all southroners; our uncle Jorah to that proud Hightower girl, a Manderly to another southron lady, Lady Lyarra to Crown Prince Orys Baratheon and who knows who else!" She shook her head. "The North's no longer the North with all those marriages to southroners."
"You cannot blame the Lady Lyarra's to the crown prince's."
"Those wildlings are taking quite a long time to navigate here."
"Maybe they are fishing on the way."
Alysane snorted a second time. "Can you see fishing rods or nets? No, fishing is not on the wildlings' agenda for today."
Sighing, Dacey waited patiently. After half an hour trickled by as slowly as the water in a small stream, the three rowboats were finally in sight. There were two wildings on two boats and three on the third. The numbers were a little less than the last batch of wildlings, but seven wildlings dead was still better than none.
On three, Dacey signalled to Alysane.
One…
Dacey aimed at the head of the second wildling on the second boat.
Two…
Dacey carefully pulled the bowstring back.
…three!
In unison, two arrows flew into the sky and hit their targets. There was shout; the wildlings looked straight at the old hut Dacey and Alysane hid near. Instantly, more arrows were pulled out.
Twang! Twang! Twang! Twang! Twang!
Within a minute, all the wildlings on the three boats were incapacitated, if not shot dead. Standing up, Dacey kept an eye on the boats as Alysane's shrill whistle pierced the air. Almost as if they appeared out of nowhere, four men garbed from head to toe in hunting gear emerged from the trees. "Have those rowboats pulled onto land," said Dacey, jerking her head in the direction of the boats. "Three more rowboats would be useful for us."
"Aye milady," grunted the tallest with dark eyes and brown hair. "What are we to do with the wildling scum?"
"Toss them into the water," said Alysane promptly. Her smirk showed her two rows of crooked teeth. "If dead, the fish can eat them. If not…they might be lucky if they can swim to shore."
"Aye milady," the four men said together. Giving them a final nod, Dacey began to head back through the Eastern Woods to Mormont Keep with Alysane. "I'd not have minded a swim," said Alysane thoughtfully.
"In your armour?" questioned Dacey.
Alysane chuckled. "Of course not! I'd have taken it off!" Dacey said naught. Her sister was in her usual attire: sheepskin layers under the boiled leather that was nicely covered by ringmail and a thick, warm fur cloak. It would've taken Alysane quite some time to remove the clothing unfit for swimming. All the inhabitants of Bear Island knew how to swim since they were babes. Swimming in the icy water in winter was unadvisable, but at times those brave enough would do so to find a fish or two for supper. The majority of them didn't survive the night.
As the two of them quietly approached the wood-walled castle surrounded by an earthen palisade, Alysane whistled again. "The fire's been lit early, Sister." Her dark brown eyes focused on the keep. "Mother's entertaining."
"It must be important," murmured Dacey. Curious, she sped up. The main gate adorned with the carving of a woman in bearskin with a babe suckling at her left breast in one arm and a battleaxe in the other, was already opened. She strode in, Alysane behind her, and was surprised to see that the three guests seated on the dais were Eddard Karstark, Lord Karstark's second son; a young man bearing the sigil of House Flint of the mountains; and astonishingly, Jon Snow.
All of them were now looking at her and Alysane. Thankfully, Mother rose and said, "My lords, I believe you have not yet met my two elder daughters Dacey and Alysane. Daughters, these are Lord Eddard of House Karstark, Lord Morgan Flint of the mountains and Ser Jon Snow." Dacey dipped her head at each man, even at Jon Snow. Bastard he may be, he was one of the few northmen that was knighted. Dacey didn't know many northern knights – the only other she distinctly recalled was her uncle Ser Jorah Mormont. Oh, and the Winterfell master-at-arms. She did not remember his name. Was it Rodwell? Robar? Rodmar? On Bear Island, House Mormont had no master-at-arms. Whilst the elder two Mormont children trained to rule Bear Island (better to train a spare than none), it'd be one of the younger children destined to be the next master-at-arms, though that title was not used. It wasn't needed; every Mormont born had a purpose to serve.
"Miladies," grunted Morgan Flint. "Warrior women eh?"
Dacey nodded firmly. "What brings you my lord, Lord Eddard and Ser Jon here to our hearth? Last we heard, you were fighting wildlings."
"Aye," spoke Eddard Karstark. Dacey noticed he was glancing at Alysane more with interest. He pointed at the blossoming black eye on his face. "Punched by an aggressive wildling cunt, if you forgive my language my lady. We thought that the wildlings would attack the coast closer to Brandon's Gift, but they surprised us in the forests in my father's lands. If we didn't have scouts roaming around, Karhold might have fallen to wildlings."
"What? How did they manage to run through Umber lands?"
Eddard Karstark's lips twisted into a scowl. "We suspect they had sailed from Hardhome and then around Skagos. It only makes sense that savages would have chosen to ally themselves with other savages. It would've taken them longer, but they would've had the upper hand if it wasn't for the scouts. Four of them died in the battle you know. Killed violently by the wildlings."
"Clever plan," said Alysane dryly. "The usual batch of wildlings attacking at the Wall and Brandon's Gift and some sailing past Skagos."
"That is not all," said Morgan Flint, his icy blue eyes flashing with fury. "Those savage wildlings are invading the mountains! In masses! What is there weapon of choice? Fire. They would attack villages, rob them of whatever they can hold and then burn the crops to starve us. Just the other day, a band of wildlings stole two goats from my father's herd. I will have their heads for this!"
"Troops have been sent to the mountains I believe," Dacey's mother then said calmly. "I doubt Lord Stark would leave you undefended. You are his cousin after all." She rose from her seat, pushing a strand of grey hair behind her ear. "Please forgive me my lords, Ser Jon," she said as the men stood up too. "I must go and be ready for my round of wildling patrol. Every man and woman in Bear Island must play his or her part to help defend our homes. I'll leave you all in Dacey's capable hands. Anything you wish to discuss, please converse with her and Alysane, if it's matters of war or other." Dacey maintained a composed expression. Mother was giving her a chance to practise conversing as the future Lady of Bear Island.
Once Mother retreated from the Great Hall, Eddard Karstark looked at Alysane again. "What is it?" said Alysane sharply. "I'm not a horse my lord."
"Nothing my lady," said Eddard Karstark swiftly.
Alysane narrowed her eyes dangerously. "It's not nothing my lord of Karstark. I'm no stranger to that look. Inspecting the goods – is that it, eh? I am a mother of two. Two cubs I birthed from fucking a bear."
Ser Jon Snow almost choked on his cup of plain ale whilst Morgan Flint stared at Alysane with fascination. Dacey repressed a shrewd smile. Every time Alysane was confronted by an overzealous and probably power hungry suitor, she would tell him the same tale of her two nights sleeping with a bear. Whether it was true or not, she did birth to two children: four year old Eirlys and two year old Rodrik. Both of them were acknowledged Snows, but were raised as any trueborn child of House Mormont would be raised – as warriors.
"A bear?" said Eddard Karstark, amused. "That will be quite an interesting tale to tell my good-brother Harlon Umber."
Ah, of course. The great Mormont-Umber-Karstark alliance that Mother was in the middle of finalising. If all went to plan, Lyra will marry Eddard Karstark and a lord of House Umber (probably Harlon) will wed Alysane. Trade between Houses Mormont, Umber and Karstark would improve significantly as it'd be their lands first to greet the looming winter.
Alysane scowled. "Tell him what you like my lord."
Dacey cleared her throat. "The matter of the wildlings is more important right now is it not my lords? We can discuss betrothals at a later time."
Ser Jon nodded. "That would be best my lady." He hesitated. "Morale is sorely lacking, my lady. Not in the Karhold forests or Umber lands, but at the Wall. I fear that with a lack of morale, the men will lose hope. Even with the troops sent, half the black brothers reckon we'll all die as there are far too many wildlings and too less soldiers. Some of the southron troops are on their way, but um, there are still those who complain southron soldiers have no idea how to fight wildlings."
That was a fair point. When it came to wildlings, one ought to kill them on the spot as one would dispose a poisonous weed; trading wildlings for ransom was a notion that was practically unheard of.
"The Wall has not suffered heavy losses," said Alysane reasonably. "I don't see a reason for morale to be low. Besides, most of the men are defending their lands, aren't they? Morale should be high."
"Not for the men on the Wall," said Ser Jon Snow sombrely. "Half of them were forced to take the black in order to avoid death."
"Why did you choose to come here Ser?" Dacey asked.
"I was sent away," said Ser Jon flatly. "I helped push back some wildlings, but I also missed the chance to shoot a dangerous enemy. It was unacceptable to all of the black brothers. Even the Umbers there were disgusted. To avoid a vast fuss, I was sent away by my uncle. He suggested it would be best for me to come here to inform you of the recent developments before travelling to Shadow Tower to aid the black brothers there."
"Dangerous enemy?" questioned Alysane. "Mance Rayder?"
Ser Jon shook his head. "Lord Umber's prisoner. The vicious wildling woman – Ygritte I think her name is. Lord Commander Mallister tried to negotiate a sort of peace treaty with Mance Rayder which included the trade of prisoners. It wasn't the best of ideas, but the men of the Night's Watch needed a respite. Even with all the northern troops helping them fight, they were exhausted. Thankfully though, the King-Beyond-the-Wall was kind enough to agree to one hour of peace for the purpose of discussing a truce. I wasn't there, but apparently, some wildlings took the opportunity to attack the Umber party returning to Last Hearth. They'd freed Ygritte and killed all but one of the Umber party. They tried to escape, but they'd been caught and battle ensured. I hesitated." His expression was pained. "It…it is a mistake I'll never do again."
"What happened?" said Alysane bluntly. Dacey shot her a warning look but Ser Jon shook his head. "Lady Dacey, Lord Morgan and Lord Eddard already know. It is only right that you and Lady Alysane are told the truth too. Better from my lips than an Umber's." He closed his eyes for a second. "She tripped over something – I think it was a dead body – and landed at my feet. Men were yelling at me to kill her. I don't know why none of them killed her themselves. The wildling looked at me and begged for mercy, but her eyes remained malicious."
"All wildling eyes gleam hatred and lies," growled Morgan Flint.
As do yours my lord, thought Dacey. "Pray go on Ser Jon," she said instead.
"I did nothing," said Ser Jon more quietly. "I allowed her to stand and run. If it wasn't bad enough…" He bit his lip. "As she ran away, she threw a dagger at me. I dodged it, but Oswin Umber moved too late."
"Greatjon Umber lost a brother and two sons to the wildlings now," remarked Eddard Karstark. "His hatred for them would've grown sevenfold."
"All lads make mistakes," said Morgan Flint gruffly. "Wildlings are schemers – especially their women. Honour dictates we don't harm women, but it's another story when it comes to wildlings. In my first skirmish when I was a young man a year or two younger than Ser Jon here, I learnt a valuable lesson. When you catch a wildling, you never let him or her go. My father had often warned me about the true nature of wildlings. I believed I knew more than he did and when I was sent off to rid a village of raiding wildlings, I went confidently. Around then, I was in a discrete affair with one of the village girls. Pretty girl, but in truth a wildling. I did not know a wildling had infiltrated the village months ago – no one did. When I'd saw her helping the wildlings, I went into shock. The village lost all its grains and stores and half the men died in their attempt to stop the wildlings."
"We all make mistakes," spoke Dacey. "We learn from them."
Eddard Karstark stood up. "May I have a word with you alone, my lady?"
"When I wished to speak to you alone, I did not expect you to take me hunting, my lady. Hunting alone too!"
Dacey chuckled. "Mormont Keep is too small for privacy my lord. Now what is it you wish to discuss with me?"
"The wildlings will win," said Eddard Karstark bluntly. "They are united with a clear, single cause: invading the North. We? We are hardly united, my lady. There are plenty of men, but where is Lord Stark? Every time there is an enormous and deadly wildling threat, we had a Lord of Winterfell at our side, fighting with us. If not Lord Stark, his trueborn sons and brothers. There was always a Stark general uniting us together. Not this time though. You are defending Bear Island, Umbers are defending their lands and my family defending our lands. Yes we send men to the Wall, but that is all we do."
"Benjen Stark is at the Wall and so was Ser Jon-"
"A man of the Night's Watch and a green boy," the Karstark man cut in. "They are not in any position to unite us all against the wildlings. Do you know that the Lord of the Dreadfort had withdrawn half his men due to Robb Stark's actions? It only ruined any chances of unity. Lord Stark is playing lapdog to the king, his heir is a coward hiding behind the walls of Winterfell, Bran Stark is learning the fancy southron swordplay and Lord Stark's two youngest sons are still children. I don't think any of them are true northerners anymore my lady. They have spent more time in the south than here with us fighting wildlings."
Dacey frowned. "My lord of Karstark, the younger Stark boys are children and at Winterfell as you said. I doubt they have set foot in the south before."
"They are malleable. The Umbers and my family are in agreement that all was better when a true, northern Stark ruled the North. Did you hear that Robb Stark will be a father soon?" Dacey nodded. "He will not rule the North," he went on. "It will never be accepted."
"You wished to speak to me about the Winterfell succession? Lord Eddard, we were in the middle of discussing the wildling war!"
"The Winterfell succession has everything to do with the wildling war. Eddard Stark is needed here, not in the south. Robb Stark must be removed. If those two wishes are not met, we are doomed to fail. The Wall will fall; the wildlings will be victorious. Is that what you want, my lady?"
Eddard Karstark was treading on dangerous ground. "Only the old gods know what the future holds," Dacey said carefully. "It may be Robb Stark and his line of sons will never rule; it may be they do." Her dark brown eyes met his. "For now, I will do naught but defend Bear Island. Here I stand, my lord of Karstark. Here I'll stand with my mother and sisters. Here We Stand."
It would've made more sense for Jon, Eddard Karstark and Morgan Flint to go straight to Shadow Tower, but I decided for them to visit the Mormonts first so they can talk about the wildling situation. Even though I don't particularly enjoy writing about it, I thought it would be more interesting to have the wildling situation read through conversations than letters. I enjoyed writing in Dacey's POV and might write another chapter in her POV in Part 4.
