As they had found more empty villages they had started to be more lax in sneaking upon the villages, and dismounted their horses closer and closer. Which meant that it was not long before they came upon a scene of fighting. Ser Jeremy was clashing steel with a large wildling wielding a wicked looking axe, while Othor and Chett held back four others with their flaming torches. Watching them run towards the battle Chett threw the torch at his opponents and drew his sword.
Still, the wildlings noticed their arrival and decided to cut their losses. Two of them ran towards the horses, stabbing two before running into the forest, while one jumped towards Rykker. He got a stab in the back from Othor for getting distracted, but his dying body still interrupted the fight between Ser Jeremy and the axe-wielder. The large man used that distraction to punch Rykker in the face while their weapons were locked together.
Thoren was on him before he could attack again. Kobe and Dirk went after the two that had gone running, while Dirk helped Chett fight off his last attacker.
Kobe threw a knife at his quarry, making him stumble, which Dirk capitalised upon, but the second raider had escaped. They returned to the scene of the battle to find it already over. Thoren had a deep cut on his shoulders where the axe-wielder had struck him before getting killed, while Othor bled from an arrow that Kobe had not noticed before.
It turned out that the horses cried out after arrows came flying from the woods. One had found Othor and another had struck a horse. The battle proper had barely started when the rest of the black brothers had come running.
Jeremy Rykker had taken his own scraps, but he rallied them into taking everyone back into the village and barricaded them into a house.
They stayed there until Othor bled to death, but Thoren survived the night after his wound was bandaged. Kobe managed to convince Dirk to come out and take care of the corpses. The others did not care about the bodies of their enemies, but Kobe had nothing but worries about the four dead bodies that could be not so dead in the near future.
He and Dirk started on the bodies by removing the weapons and any other possessions. Kobe started with recovering his own dagger from the corpse, then used it to sever the ligaments and tendons of the dead body. He had no idea about how the magic worked, but even if biology stopped working, surely physics still had to mean something.
He made sure to keep an eye out for any movement from the other corpses as he dispossessed the body of its other possessions and weapons. It was a good thing he did, or he would not have dodged the sword strike that came for his neck.
"Fuck, you bastard!"
"What the hell, Dirk?" Kobe managed to parry the next strike with the dagger and thanked the instincts of this body and its criminal past.
"Just die!"
Kobe had a disadvantage in reach and fighting experience. Add to that he was still too shocked at the sudden betrayal to properly counter him.
So Kobe didn't try.
His hand caught the blade and pushed it aside as he buried the dagger in his eye.
Once he caught his breath, he tore out some cloth from his dying, traitorous comrade, and tried to stop the bleeding from his hand. It was a futile attempt. Three of his fingers were hanging by the skin and the pain made him want to cry. But what chilled him was the colour of the blood. It was black. Kobe watched as the blood came out already clotting, dripping out of his fingers like slurry.
Until it didn't and started to become red again.
It had been near three months since he had taken this body and it had lasted more than Bird 1.0 had. In a way it had also outlasted Bird 2.0 who had to be buried after Jon was forced to travel in close proximity to Cersei, for fear that she might have seen it in the First Keep and could recognize it. It was already flagging in performance while Kobe could function without visible side effects of the possession.
Now he had to figure out what to do. If he returned to the others and relayed Dirk's treachery, would they believe him? Or would they suspect that it was him who murdered Dirk by treachery? In any case he had to go back. They had all the food and the horses.
Kobe tied up a tourniquet on his injured hand, picked up Dirk's beloved dagger, unsheathed his sword, and walked towards the house.
What was Dirk's plan? Blame my death on more wildlings? Kobe tried to figure out as his steps quickened. If there was one traitor, he started running, there could be more.
He broke the shaky door and came upon a scene of chaos. Smallwood was bleeding from his injured shoulder and a new stab in his stomach and held Garth in a hold between his legs as the disfigured man tried to stab him in the thighs. Rykker was being held down by Chett, the man he had thought friendly trying to put a knife in his eyes.
That quickly stopped when Kobe's sword came out of his mouth and he fell dead atop the knight. It descended again, on Garth's head this time, the flat side first.
Rykker rose up coughing, and breathing heavily to pick up his sword, and Kobe could see the marks on his neck where Chett's left hand had been strangling him. He inspected Kobe with wild eyes, and for a moment he feared that the knight would attack him. It passed and he turned to Thoren and Garth instead, and Kobe followed suit. The Riverlander lordling was groaning in pain, looking very tired now with no enemy to fight.
Kobe would have done something to help his injury, but at that point removing the dagger in his stomach would do nothing but hurry his demise. So he went to secure Garth before he could wake up and run, or worse, get a drop on them. By the time he returned Smallwood was already dead, Rykker stood over his long time comrade.
"Garth is waking up." Kobe reminded him.
"What happened to Dirk? Another traitor?"
"Yes. Tried to kill me. Took my fingers." He showed his maimed hand, the fingers still dangling gruesomely. "But I got the better of him."
The knight grimaced at the sight, "Come, I'll help treat your wounds. We can see to the traitor after that."
Once his hand was no longer bleeding, they went and interrogated their captive, demanding just what had let them decide to backstab them.
"What choice did we have? It was either we look out for ourselves, or go and die in this suicide ranging."
The knight punched him.
"You had the choice of serving the Watch faithfully."
"As I had done for years. And how did the Watch repay me? By sending me to die!"
"You were sent on a ranging! All this death was caused by your treachery!"
"As if we weren't going to die anyway. Why else would you bring those ravens? If we were expected to return alive, we would have just reported when we returned!"
Rykker punched him again.
"You fool! You fucking fool! You've gotten good men killed for your paranoia."
Ser Jeremy had no more patience for his excuses, and took his head.
Without Chett they were uncertain on how to use the ravens. It was not an impossible task. The birds were all aimed for Castle Black, so they did not need to worry about choosing the wrong raven. On the other hand, they had no idea how to actually use the ravens except for tying the message to the bird and setting it free. So they wrote down what happened, Kobe held the bird who had gotten aggressive due to the recent violence around it, while Ser Jeremy tied the message to it, then let it go.
"At least we killed Morag the Ox." The knight sighed. "No more will he attack any of our rangers, or attempt to climb over the Wall."
"Who?" Kobe asked.
Jeremy looked at him weirdly, before explaining, "The raider I killed, the axe-wielder."
"Oh, I did not realise he was infamous." Kobe admitted.
"He was one of the leaders of the wildlings. By killing him we might have changed the fate of the hundreds that followed him."
"In a good way, right?"
"..."
"In a good way, right?"
The knight sighed tiredly. "Listen carefully, for I will not repeat this. Morag was one of the big names. Like Harma Dogshead or Rattleshirt. But he was a nomad even among the wildlings, with a tribe almost entirely consisting of fighters. We have often come across wildlings who were left behind by him for being too weak. If he had met Mance, well, they would likely have fought. And if Morag died, his tribe would have been subsumed by Mance."
"But now with Morag's death his tribe will break. Some will join Mance, others might decide to take advantage of the empty villages and settle there, some might even try to climb the wall on their own."
"So it is likely a good thing me and Thoren killed him. Perchance he might have killed Mance and saved us all the trouble." The knight laughed gravely, and the two did not speak as they took turns sleeping through the night.
When it was Kobe's turn to watch, he went and chopped all the dead bodies until Garth's sword started chipping. Then he threw the chopped heads into the mouth of the large weirwood tree and fed some meat to the two remaining ravens.
When the morning came, they gathered all the rations on the now free horses and travelled north. Neither spoke about returning to Castle Black.
...
Jon flexed his left hand as he rode in front of the Queen's carriage. The injury that Kobe had taken left him feeling phantom sensations that left him ensuring that he still had those fingers. He had marvelled at the fight between Kobe and Dirk. It amazed him how quickly he had made the insane decision to just grab his opponent's blade, possibly sacrificing his hand. He could not imagine doing it in his original body and that had led him to repeating that fight with Meryn to look for alternate ways he could have won.
"Jon! Come to the back!" His puppet called, and Jon was moving before Meryn had even started.
"So what order do we enter the city?"
They travelled in a basic defensive formation around the Queen's carriage, but entering White Harbour called for more pomp and presentation. Prince Joffery and his guards rode into the city gates first, followed by the red cloaks. Then the carriage entered alongside the rest of the Kingsguard.
Jon and Ghost entered after that with the rest of the squires to find the entire main line of House Manderly welcoming the Queen and her children.
He noted that it was one of the days she was in a good mood. Which likely meant that she had sex with her brother the night before. With Robert and his large party gone, the two had been screwing most nights. And whenever they did, the twins would be in a good mood all day the next day.
Jon could not help but consider the possibility that Cersei might get with a fourth child. If she births another babe, that woodswitch's prophecy would be null and void. In theory his existence should have diverted most prophecies regarding people around him, but he wondered if that happened retroactively. That is, if an event prophesied in canon will not occur in his reality, did that mean that it was not prophesied in his reality to begin with?
His only clue was Hodor, or the lack of him. By saving Bran he changed Bran's future as a greenseer, which changed young Walder's past, leading him to become a soldier in the Greyjoy Rebellion and die in battle. He ignored the twinge of guilt he felt at that. Walder's death was not his fault. And for all he knew, Walder's participation had saved dozens of Northerner lives.
He did not consider himself some saviour responsible for the death of people killed by other men long before he ever became Jon Snow. He was just one boy wanting a good and honest life.
He looked at Meryn escorting the royal family to New Castle.
Mostly honest life.
Jon decided to go see the city instead. The feast would take time and Jon and Ghost were hungry. It would be quicker to find a meal in the city markets. There was some attention on Ghost, but he was not yet old enough that he would cause a commotion.
Once he filled his stomach, his first destination was the city harbour. He spied a large ship flying Manderly banners that was being prepped for journey, and he suspected it was the vessel meant to carry the royal family to the capital. Jon spent a minute admiring the vessel, but he had work to do. He was dedicated on finding a new bird. He and Ghost spent most of the evening trying to catch one, failed, then found a man selling alive seagull looking birds.
Defeated, he bought one and dubbed it Bird 3.0. Once it was under his control, he sent it to go explore the city from the sky as he entered the castle.
It had gotten late, so Jon made his way to the city gates where he told Ghost to go hunt for the night. This castle was not used to him, and trying to make them adapt to a direwolf was not worth the few nights they'd be spending here.
Jon watched the beast run off along the river and then headed to the castle. A room had been assigned to Meryn who had ordered food brought for him.
The next day after he sparred with Meryn, he donned his best clothes, and returned to the city in preparation for something he had discovered last night through Bird.
Wylla Manderly was going to visit the White Harbour sept.
So by the time she even left the castle, Jon had already introduced himself to the local septon, who luckily, still remembered Septon Chayle. He put forward his best social skills and was sharing lunch with the septon by the time the Manderly arrived.
Wylla carried herself with the dignity of a noble but there was something dispirited in how she moved. She curtsied to the septon, and went to light a candle before praying. Once she was done, Jon moved to intercept her on her path to the door.
"I thought I saw a familiar face." Jon said with a smile.
It took her a moment to recognize him and Jon waited patiently.
"The bastard!" she spoke in recognition and it was only the fact that Jon had expected such a response that let him keep the anger off his face.
"Quite so." His reply was curt and smile strained. He had hoped to make true those words from Tyrion in the story about making his bastardry his armour. Unfortunately, as inspiring as the words sounded, he had no clue what that actually meant. Should he make japes about his own birth so he could laugh alongside the insults instead of just being laughed at?
The girl coloured at his reply.
"My apologies, Jon. Jon was it not?" He nodded. "Your presence here simply surprised me."
"Well, I am in this Sept to share news of Septon Chayle from Winterfell. But if you meant here as in your city, I come following the Queen's party, as a squire to Ser Meryn Trant of the Kingsguard."
She raised her blond eyebrows in surprise, and Jon clarified, "He is the one with the red beard."
She laughed and Jon found himself smiling along. "Yes, I had guessed as much. The one who is neither Jaime Lannister nor…"
"...The ugly one." Jon finished.
"I was not going to say that." She protested.
"But you were thinking it."
"If I was, you cannot prove it."
"It is just as my lady says. But if I may return the question, what are you doing here? Already tired of the royal majesty?"
"I had hoped you would not remind me of it." She sighed.
"Anything you might wish to speak about?"
"It's not important. Some centuries old promises between kings long passed that my grandfather still clings to." She shook her head. "Though nothing will come out of it."
Promises between Manderlys and old kings?
"The betrothals of Princess Viserra and later Prince Joffrey?" He tried, making her startle in surprise.
"How? How do you even know about it?"
"The Starks had their own Pact of Ice and Fire at the time of Prince Joffrey Velaryon's betrothal. And the latter was a continuation of Princess Viserra's betrothal. So I read about them in conjunction with my house's history." He explained why he would bother to learn about historical figures. Most people don't even bother remembering the names of Targaryen kings, much less the things they did.
"The Pact of Ice and Fire? I think something like that happened." Case in point. "But who was the betrothal organised between?" She asked and he considered explaining. Then saw no point to it.
"It matters not. As you said, nothing will come out of it." She shrugged in a dignified manner. "But if Lord Wyman has brought it up, did he wish the princes to make good on a betrothal with a Manderly?"
"I only told you what I did because I thought you wouldn't understand it." She admitted. "But I suppose you have already guessed it."
Jon laughed. Wyman Manderly was a clever man, but he was also ambitious. When the Hornwoods died, didn't he even try laying claim to their lands because Lady Hornwood was a Manderly cousin? This seemed like something he might try if the opportunity arose.
"Very well. If Lady Wylla wishes it, think of it as if you never said anything. But if you wish to take your mind off of it, why don't you come meet my direwolf?"
"It's really true, then? You have a real direwolf?"
"Come and see for yourself, my lady."
…
"Will you come with us to King's Landing?" Jon asked as they played with Ghost near the harbour.
Wylla's guards had joined them outside the sept, and accompanied them to the harbour, but did not interfere. He figured that Wylla was used to getting her way. But their presence still meant that he had to be careful with his words, their big mouths was the reason he learned about Wylla's little excursion after all.
She hummed. "Why would I? I'm not getting betrothed to anyone, remember?"
"Yes, but my father is the Hand now. Which happened because the King finds most southerners to be untrustworthy. It sounds to me like he will be needing a loyal northern lord to fill the empty positions on the Small Council."
She looked confused. "But there are no empty positions of the Small Council?"
"There probably were none the last time a Stark became Hand to a King surrounded by untrustworthy people. But Lord Cregan Stark opened up space."
Wylla laughed, but it petered out when he didn't join in the laughter.
"Oh, you are not jesting."
"Your father and uncles must get news from the capital. Do they have good things to say about the city?"
"Well, no.."
"Then it sounds to me like the place needs to be cleaned of corruption and corrupt officials. And who better to help House Stark do it than a House that has done it before after the Dance."
She was nodding along. "But if it is so, that is up to my grandfather to decide."
"Perhaps." He agreed, "But you might have your own way to help."
"I will?"
"Lady Sansa will be the future Queen and Queens need ladies-in-waiting. But my sister only has Jeyne Poole, the Steward's daughter. I see no reason that should continue to be the case."
"Lady Sansa's lady-in-waiting?" She hummed. "I'm not opposed to it, but this isn't even my grandfather's decision. It will be your father's decision."
"That's true. I suppose we can only advise our elders and let them make the decision." He conceded. "But I am sure my father could use the presence of leal men in the capital. And he is not someone who will let a service go unrewarded."
They did not speak about politics any more than that.
Jon did not get a committed answer from Wylla Manderly, but whatever conversation she had with her grandfather garnered results and he got invited to see the Manderly Lord later that night.
They met in a room whose function Jon did not recognise, but it seemed intended for private conversations. With post-dinner food and wine spread on a table between them.
The Lord apologised to Jon for not greeting him sooner and how he always planned to speak to him. While he didn't believe anything of the sort, there was no reason to be rude to a Great Lord. So he smiled and nodded that there was nothing to apologise for.
Lord Wyman asked after the health of his family and then enquired how he ended up as a squire to a kingsguard. Jon told the story he had told to Lord Stark about impressing Meryn with his persistence and hard work. But soon enough they got to the topic at hand.
"My granddaughter returned from her conversation with you and had some interesting new ideas about your Lord father reenacting the Hour of the Wolf."
What the hell did she tell him?
Jon had no preparations for convincing Wyman, but he did have confidence from the information he had gathered that Wyman was not unaffected by whatever words Wylla had relayed to him. He had noticed some commotion at the harbour involving the men of House Manderly. It could be nothing, or it could be them preparing a new ship.
"I seem to have given Lady Wylla the wrong impression. To the best of my knowledge, my Lord father has no particular intentions to start executing nobles in the capital. I only mentioned Lord Cregan Stark as an example of how a change in the Hand of the King can lead to large changes in the entire politics of the capital."
"So you lied to my granddaughter?" The lord asked, licking grease off his fingers, and Jon suddenly wished that he had brought Ghost with him.
"No, not at all. My father has no intentions of going against anyone on the King's council, but you know his nature. It is inevitable that my father will get into conflict with the more corrupt officials in the King's court. And when he does, he is not likely to accept a compromise or let them go in exchange for some benefit. Lord Stark will not stand for anything but the appropriate punishment for whoever he manages to catch." Jon took a sip of wine and added with all his confidence, "That is simply how my Father is."
Jon got dismissed after that.
The next day they learned that the ship will leave by evening and that Ser Wylis, his wife, and daughter Wylla will be joining them on the journey to King's Landing.