(Eastwatch-by-the-Sea: 4/25/299) Viserys III
"There!" Viserys heard the Smalljon roar, his large form hidden just out of sight over the crest of a large snowbank. Viserys almost lost his footing in surprise, certain that the cry had come from the horde of dead they had so recently escaped. Was this a gift? A sign of the gods giving them a second chance at life?
Steeling himself, even as his legs and lungs burned, he marched forward. He almost felt as if the air itself could not flow into him fast enough for him to follow through with each step towards his destination. Hearing the struggles of the fifty-eight survivors of their once five-hundred strong party at his back. To either side of him, he could hear footfalls much closer which reminded him to count his blessings at seeing his brothers Will, Gared, and Waymar still amongst the living.
As they trudged over the snow, towards the Umber, he and his brothers found the most magnificent sight greeting him. Never before had the wall appeared as beautiful to them as it did now, its icy surface shimmering in the morning sun like diamond. Even the jagged ice crystals, still hanging around the giant blocks of stone, were beautiful. They caught the light like raindrops on a leaf, giving the snow a silvery sheen that felt magical.
"At last," a Northman's voice came back, before a single horn blast echoed out clear as a bell in the morning mist.
"They've seen us!" Waymar shouted, knowing as he did the significance of the sound.
A single horn blast for arriving brothers of the Watch, two to warn of attack, and three to warn of the Others. He knew it was a sound not heard for hundreds of years, and now he felt as if he would be hearing them very, very soon and many, many times.
"Think old Cotter and Harmune will be happy to see us?" Will said, his voice cracking with the emotions that came with finally coming within sight of even the smallest promise of safety.
"Not with what we have to report, they won't," Gared grunted, passing them as he trudged down the snowy hill.
Before long, their exhausted party rode through the open gate of the castle of Eastwatch, their black shadows passing quickly through the threshold before being greeted by its commander, Cotter Pyke and nearly hundred men wearing Night's Watch or Karstark colors. "What are you lot doing here?" he asked, his small eyes narrowing even smaller as he eyed them in suspicion.
"You do not seem surprised at our arrival, Commander Pyke," the Smalljon grunted, brushing off excess snow from his shoulders. "Unless you practice keeping your gates open to strangers?"
"No, Umber," the man snorted. "Twas a strange bird that brought word of you. A very large black hawk, if memory serves, one that I have never once laid eyes upon before. Especially of such type and size, and with such coloring, sending word from King's Landing of all places."
"Black hawk? King's Landing?" Viserys stepped forward, remembering the black hawk that would haunt the top of the Wall when he would stand guard. The one that ended up following them on their ranging before disappearing in the chaos of the ambush at the Bloodraven's cave. "How do you know it was from King's Landing, and why would you believe the message it delivered?"
"The message it delivered bore the seal of the acting Hand, need I say more?" Cotter looked over their group. "I did hear of you being sent on a ranging from the Lord Commander," he paused to once again scan their group. "I take it things did not go well, for I see none among you that wear the colors of Dragonstone..."
"An icy darkness came upon us, commander. One full of terrors," Will blurted out, half shaking as he spoke. "It was a nightmare." From their group, he could hear mutters of agreement following Will's poignant words.
Commander Pyke seemed to weigh Will's words, staying silent while stroking his chin in contemplation. Viserys had never seen Cotter Pyke hesitate, for he had always been a forthright man, quick to answer whatever problem was set before him.
Before the commander of Eastwatch could answer, a larger younger man wearing black mail and plate emblazoned with a white sunburst, pushed through from the back of the Karstark men. He bore a stocky build and cloaked himself with a thick mass of bear fur across his broad-shouldered back. He and the others were forced to look up at him, something that made the dark man's cold blue eyes seem even colder than his tone.
"You're a long way from the Last Hearth, Umber," the man said, with a fiercely cold expression.
"Would that I stayed there, Harrion, and not seen what I had," the Smalljon rumbled, matching the cold stare with one of his own, but clasping hands with the man just the same. "Yes, it was a nightmare. Yes, we saw the White Walkers...but that was not the end of it, we saw much more," the future lord turned to Pyke. "We saw spiders as large as horses, and legions of the dead. Both man and beast."
The Karstark men and his own brothers of the Night's Watch shared hushed whispers amongst themselves with gasps of surprise rising here and there as the words left the Smalljon's cracked lips. Commander Pyke seemed dumbfounded as well, but not for long.
"So, what Lord Stark saw upon Dragonstone was true?" the Karstark muttered and furrowed his brow.
"Winter is Coming, Harrion," the Umber said to the first born of Rickard Karstark, lord of the Karhold. "The Stark words hold true..." the Smalljon added, causing both Umber and Karstark to share a look of understanding that only a Northman could truly appreciate.
"If that is so, then where are they?" Cotter replied, looking past them to the still open gates.
"We..." the Umber seemed at a loss for words before Viserys spoke for him.
"We do not know," he said. "They harried us for hours after the ambush at the Bloodraven's cave, running us down one-by-one until they suddenly stopped. After the benders and the children were taken, they did not seem interested enough to prolong the chase any more than they needed to. Whether they had grown bored or had commands to do so, I do not know. But whatever the case, it allowed us to live, and I am grateful for that at least."
"Children?" Harrion asked.
"Of the forest," the Smalljon clarified, voice sounding torn between the incredulity of the words leaving his mouth and the very real fact that they had encountered them at the cave.
"What?!" the Karstark and those amongst his number exclaimed in surprise.
Pyke raised his hands to silence the rising tide of questions, and stared at him, then the others, as if suddenly realizing their poor state. "Leave them be! We will see answers to these questions after these men have been fed and rested. Northmen? Night's Watch?" Cotter regarded each of them during his address. "We were just in the middle of clearing the tables when we spotted you. There should still be enough for your party," the man frowned, before looking up and nodding to the men manning the gates. He heard the groan of heavy wooden doors as they slammed shut.
"Gratitude for that," Viserys said softly.
"Hmm," the commander tipped his head slightly at his words, before placing a hand upon his shoulder and shifting his gaze between Viserys and the Smalljon. "Do not forget. I will have accurate account of what transpired out there when you have the strength to do so. I will not have my report tainted by exhausted ramblings and hunger-induced delusions."
The Umber remained silent but nodded alongside him.
"As you command," Viserys said, then joined with the others as they all descended upon the common hall to devour and drink whatever food and beverage they could find. The few men still breaking their fast appeared stunned at the sight of frostbitten men with haunted looks eating like madmen. And he could not fault them for it, for he would have done the same. Even still, he joined in as they tore apart the still warm sausages, bread, bone broth, and assorted cheeses spread about the table. His anger at the Umber could wait until his appetite was satiated.
"Thank the gods for Dragonstone," he heard one of his brothers exclaim in midchew.
Mouth still stuffed with food, Viserys nodded, for could not find himself disagreeing with his brother's words. He and the rest of the Watch knew that the abundance of food now arrayed in front of them and sealed away in the larders of Eastwatch, Castle Black, and the Shadow Tower were courtesy of the masters of Dragonstone. For years had they provided clothes, food, and weapons, to the Night's Watch, and now it was as if this was the moment where it was truly needed. The Stark words resonated in his mind, and he shuddered thinking of what was to come and what had already arrived.
"There is no need," the Smalljon rumbled from across the common hall, slamming down his fork as he did. "Dragonstone was the reason we suffered as we did! We should never have ventured into that place!" Turning to him, the Umber stared into his eyes, "You were right, princeling," the man finally grumbled, looking to him for argument or forgiveness, he knew not, and nor did he care. For he felt nothing, but contempt burning within his violet eyes.
Immediately after the words had been uttered, Viserys felt the mood grow somber. He saw the large man continue chewing loudly at his food, staring at him all the while with an unseemly frown.
"Treacherous, cowardly, dogs!" He heard his father's voice ring in his head, before it roared, "Burn them all! Burn them all!" And he thought his own voice might have joined in, but it was soon drowned out. He felt a hand on his shoulder, causing him to jump. The light eyes of a younger man filled his vision.
"Vis, are you well," Waymar asked, in as genuine concern as he felt the proud knight would allow himself to muster in front of his peers.
"Yes," he replied, looking at him, only for a moment, before turning his attention back to his meal of broth, bread, and cheese.
The young Royce took a sip of his ale. "Hmph. You are a terrible liar," he muttered.
"Truly, I was about to say much the same," Will admitted, with a slight frown. "What happened at the cave, would have made any grown man piss himself. You need not..."
"I appreciate the words, Will," Viserys interrupted, staring at the man. "Truly I do. But at this moment, I would eat in peace, brothers. I require time to think. To gather my wits before bringing report to the Commander, as we all should," he added, tilting his head to others in acknowledgment.
"He speaks true, now shut it, the lot of you," Gared barked as he bit into a loaf of bread.
A long silence passed, and after eating and drinking their fill, they took a moment's rest, before he and his three closest brothers headed for the commander's chambers. Behind them trailed the Smalljon and the Karstark, who had followed them out of the common hall, along with two Northmen survivors from their ill-fated ranging. Hearing the Umber's footsteps at his back, Viserys could not help but feel a certain unease at the thought of the man trailing so close to him. As for the Karstark, Viserys suspected he had only come to hear for himself of the goings on beyond the wall.
As they arrived at the old wooden door leading to the commander's chambers, Viserys turned to his brothers once before rapping loudly upon it. "Commander Pyke?" he asked, only to be greeted a short silence followed by the sounds of shuffling feet on the opposite side of the door. He waited, then once again asked, "Comman..." before a hearty voice from within cut him off.
"Enter!" the commander grumbled with what sounded like a twinge of annoyance.
"I bring report as ordered," he continued, stepping into the room followed by the others before shutting the door behind them.
Inside the dusty old room, they found the commander seated in a creaky wooden chair with the Maester Harmune hovering over his shoulder awaiting them. The latter pushed a collection of parchment towards the grizzled old commander, while the former stared calmly at them with clear but suspiciously curious eyes. The maester turned to them after passing whatever missives he had and gave them a slight bow in greeting.
"So, you do," Pyke answered, rearing forward in his seat and clasping his hands atop his desk. The man cleared his throat, then paused a moment, before asking "So what in the seven-hells happened out there!?"
At that, they all started speaking save himself and the Karstark. The northern survivors at their backs all spoke hurriedly about what had transpired, of how the clearing before Bloodraven's cave had been hollowed and how the first who had stepped forward had fallen and disappeared into the snow.
"One at a time, gods damn you!" Pyke shouted, staring at them all. "You first, Will."
"An army! We saw an army," he said, the words rushing through his mouth. The commander shot him a look of uncertainty, but his brother continued all the same. "They were hidden in all that ice and snow," Will's voice quivered. "It was quiet and we...we thought the way clear, until the storm came. I had felt the cold before, commander, but not like that. It was...as if the Stranger himself was reaching out for us..."
Pyke remained silent, his face unreadable, and in stark contrast to the incredulous look upon the old maester's face. Creeping ever so slowly upon his withered face, Viserys could see the horror entering Harmune's disbelieving eyes.
"What did you see, Will? Wildlings, surely?" the maester asked with an odd balance of sarcasm, interest, and fear laced within his trembling words.
"Wildlings? Fucking Wildlings?!" the Umber snorted, with a surprised look, before shoving past him.
"We would not have returned so decimated had that been so, maester! It was an army of fucking dead! I said what I said in the courtyard, commander," the Northman turned to Pyke, "and my words have not changed in the few hours since then!"
"Silence, Umber," Pyke growled in warning. "So long as you stand within this castle upon the Wall, you will afford me the proper respects as its commander! I asked for this ranger's account," he motioned to Will. "Not yours! Your time to speak will come after he has spoken his piece!"
"Waymar and I were at the center of the column with twenty Northmen and six of our own, commander. When the cold winds came and the dead rose from the snow. We fought as best we could but were quickly overwhelmed. We lost nine of our number, by the time we had dispatched the dead that had arisen around us. Even beheaded and de-limbed, they still made attempt at us, before one of the Northmen spotted the glow of flames towards the front of the column. He rallied us and had led us part of the way, before he was taken into the snow by...by...by an ice spider from...from the legends!"
"Did you make attempt to find him?" Pyke asked, likely having seen the livid expression plastered upon the Umber's wide hairy face as the words had left Will's mouth.
"We had naught the time to do so, commander. He had vanished far too quickly in the blizzard for us to even make attempt at sighting him, before six or seven more dead men and two dead wolves came upon us. Though in the swirling grey, I would not have trusted my sight, as there may have been more. The wolves tore out the throat of our brother Bannon, before we had chance to react," the words left Will's mouth hollow and full of regret. "We cut down the wolves and clashed with the dead men. Four more of us fell to them, before we pressed forward." As his expression fell into a sad, sorrowful mask, Will placed his head in his hands. "We ran, commander. We ran to the light," he lifted his head with tears in his eyes. "We ran to where we knew the rest of the men and the Dragonstone contingent to be. We hoped for the flames of the fire sorcerers to see us through, but by the time we arrived, we found naught but discarded weapons and the banner of Dragonstone trampled into the snow," the young man continued, stiffening his back. "It was then that we heard Gared and Viserys shouting out to us from within the storm. After that, we followed their voices and found eight of the children within their company, along with Jah-Qin, the Dragonstone boy's guardian. We fought through the snow and the dead, and neither the children nor the Yitishman had uttered words the entire way. They had only used their strange magics to dispatch the dead and clear the path towards Umber and what remained of our party, before heading back into the snow without a word."
"Interesting," Pyke interrupted, glancing to him before asking in a deadly serious tone. "But was it not said in the courtyard that the dead pursued you for hours until the children and the benders were taken? How could that be so if they left your company before then?" Pyke stared at him as he spoke.
"Three of the children had returned, as had Jah-Qin, though he had been wounded," Will said, having observed their return the same as he.
"In what manner?" Harmune questioned, earning him a glare from the commander.
"The man spoke of combating a bear that had emerged from the snows. The beast had apparently taken hold of his left hand with its teeth, leaving it mangled and him unable to properly bend his flames," Will explained, trying his best to control his quivering voice.
"Be calm," Viserys said softly, placing a gentle hand upon his black brother's shivering shoulder.
His friend twitched at his touch, before turning to him and Cotter with fearful eyes. Clearing his throat, Will continued. "Apologies commander," he said, his eyes darting around the room before he nodded to Pyke.
"None needed," Pyke answered with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Now why had they departed from your company, in the first place?" Cotter pressed, his face stone.
"I do not know, commander. I had assumed they went searching for the boy," Will said, looking between he, Pyke, and the Smalljon. "But I leave the truth of it with Viserys. For Jah-Qin and one of the children named Leaf, had only shared words with he."
Viserys felt both Cotter's and the Smalljon's eyes boring into him, awaiting explanation. He met the commander's head-on and repeated what Jah-Qin and the children had told him. "He has the right of it, commander. They did indeed seek Sho-Yu, and the other men from Dragonstone, who had been lost amidst the blizzard and ensuing ambush...after being abandoned..." he shared a look with the Umber, whose red-faced expression spoke volumes about who exactly had abandoned the party from Dragonstone.
"Abandoned?!" the irascible Pyke stood in his seat, his narrowed eyes following his gaze towards the Umber. "Seven-hells Umber! Do not tell me that is what happened!?"
"I will not be judged for trying to save the lives of my men first! As much as I loathe the arrogance of the Lady Azula's people, their reputations are hard-earned, and I had every reason to believe they were capable of standing their ground and finding a means of escape! We were separated by nearly a hundred feet, which may as well have been on the other side of world for how much I could see before me in that foul whiteness. How was I to know of the Others plans to take them in that sudden gods' damned snowstorm!?" the Smalljon demanded, his voice filling the chamber with his booming anger.
He and Pyke only looked at Umber with shared looks of disgust, though he saw a fair bit of understanding flare in his commander's eyes as the Umber continued.
"Do not look at me that way, you crows! I fought just as hard to defend the Seven-Kingdoms, as they did. Believe what you will, but I did not abandon them," the Smalljon stomped forward, grabbing Viserys by the collar of his cloak. "I. Am. No. Coward!"
"Umber!" Pyke snapped, slamming his fist into his desk. "Unhand my ranger and hold your tongue!"
"No! I will not stand idly by and have my honor besmirched by you or this Targaryen whelp! I would have my words heard first over that of the Mad King's spawn!" The future lord of Last Hearth roared his demands.
"Then what am I to believe, Umber!? Hmm?!" Viserys shouted, yanking out of the Umber's grasp. "I saw you and yours running from the ambush, as Sho-Yu and his benders fought. I saw the glow of their flames, and the sounds of your bellowing retreat!"
"You saw nothing in that gods' forsaken blizzard, princeling, just as I did!" the bearded half-giant roared. "I was as blinded as ye, and you'd be a right fool if you thought your eyes able to pierce through that swirling white tempest!"
"Then go on then!" he shot back, feeling the dragon waking within him. "Tell those present within this room what happened! I would hear your version of truth from your own lips!"
The large Northman tensed, "I remember hearing the shouts of my men, as they were taken by the ice spiders hidden beneath the snow!" he snarled, making even his fellow Northman wince at the fury in his voice. "I saw them snatching them away as they fled! They herded us towards a clearing with bordered by rocky hill and with a large wierwood tree at its edge," the Umber's bulk shivered slightly upon hearing his own words. "The cold...the blue stars..." a haze of fear overcame the Smalljon's eyes, as he stared at nothing upon the stone floor of the commander's quarters, before seemingly catching himself in his despondence and returning to his stone-cold demeanor. Shaking his head, the Umber continued, "It was then that the dead began to emerge at our rear, nearly cutting us off from escape."
"Aye," one of his men muttered from the corner of the room.
"As I said," Umber muttered grimly, "I saw nothing, but death and snow."
"And you think that reason will be sufficient to assuage the Lady of Dragonstone?" Viserys spat, staring straight at the Smalljon who remained rigid in his stance, with defiance in his eyes. "You left them to die, Umber! Intentionally or not, it will not matter with her," he added with sigh, the words to hanging in the air like a foul odor. "When word reaches Dragonstone, what do you think will happen?" The look the Northman leveled him could have killed lesser men, and before Viserys could try and clear his tongue, the man's thick finger poked hard at his chest.
"I don't give a gods' damn what that woman will think or what she will do," Umber's tone had grown colder with each word, "but I have spoken the truth! And if she wishes to impose judgment on me and mine, for surviving, then let her try. It was either all of us, and the Seven-Kingdoms besides, or them. She will do nothing, Dragonspawn!" the Smalljon hissed. "Now that we have all seen the Others and know the true threat they pose, and the numbers at their beck and call, even the Butcher will see no reason to raise hand against us! She was the one who pressed us into this bloody ranging in the first place, at your protest, if you'll remember! It's only fitting that her men should die so that we could warn the Seven-Kingdoms!"
The commander was silent for a long moment, his eyes wide with apprehension and his hands white at the knuckles, as he grappled to come to terms with what had just been said.
"You're a fool, Umber!" he roared back, feeling the dragon stirring just beneath his skin.
"Hold your tongue, Targaryen!" the Smalljon growled, as Northman and his brothers alike rose from their seats. "Night's Watch or no, I will cut it out if you speak to me that way again!"
"Not in my castle, you won't," Pyke warned the man from behind his desk.
The Umber looked them over with frown of chiseled stone. "Send your ravens to King's Landing, or Dragonstone or wherever that woman roosts," he said before turning on his heel. "Come," he ordered his Northmen. "We are done here, let us find somewhere to sleep."
"Do you truly assume them dead?" Viserys said, all the while feeling a chill in the room raising the hairs upon his neck. The Smalljon stopped at the doorway but had not turned. "Tell me, Umber, did you see any blood upon the snows where the men from Dragonstone were taken?"
"No," the large man replied, back turned. "I saw as I said. I saw the chill in the air, just before everything went to whatever hell the Others come from. But," he looked back with frightened eyes, "I heard the boy scream and I pray that he is dead. I would not wish the Others themselves on even my bitterest enemy, let alone a child." the Smalljon added, before marching out with his Northmen.
"That man is stubborn," Gared said.
"That he is," Pyke sighed, rubbing at his temple. "This will cost the Watch much in ink and parchment. All of you out," he ordered.
"Yes, commander," they replied in unison, before filing out of the room.
"What do suppose he will write?" Waymar asked once they were away from the commander's quarters.
"I do not know," Viserys felt his half-hearted response come across as a whisper. In his mind, he found himself agreeing with the words of the Smalljon Umber. He too prayed the boy was dead. For if it were otherwise, then gods know what ill fate awaited them in the cold nights ahead.