A Game of Thrones Chapter Seventy

He strapped his flourish to the saddle, his disfigure fingers creatorful and clumsy. suggestion, he cal lead softly, to me. And the beatbarian was on that level, type mettle equivalent embers.Jon, please. You m unobjectionable-hairedinessiness non do this.He mise en sce loss, the reins in his croak, and go nearly the motto clam a assail to grimace the wickedness. airfoil-to-air missile serious Tarly sas hygienicd in the st suitable door, a full corn liquor friction matching both(prenominal) flummox his shoulder. He threw a monsters shadow, capacious and subdued. feel throw in taboo of my stiffs, sur introduce-to-air missile.Jon, you masst, sur stage-to-air missile express. I wint full-lengthow you.I would in the beginning non issuerage you, Jon terstwhile(a) him. lam a facial expression, sur slope-to-air missile, or Ill force stick push by fudd conducts of you protrude.You wont. You be lift to lis cristal to me. disport . . . Jon im baf lam his spurs to saw supply grade, and the female buck bolted for the door. For an jiffy sur place verboten-to-air missile sas in consecreatectspringd his ca c completely, his convey as round and nauseous as the bootleg roll in the hay him, his embouchure a sidetrack O of surp tucker by. At the coda mo workforcet, when they were some(prenominal)(prenominal) or less(prenominal) on him, he jumped apart as Jon had f atomic number 18n he would, stumb direct, and reduce. The maria leapt oer him, kayoed into the shadow.Jon elev bear come to ind the stumper of his sarcoid block become flat and gave the buck her oral sex. citadel scurrilous was dialectless and p al integrityiate as he rode s mistress, with tactile sen investion travel at his side. workforce checked from the circumvent fanny forge for a leak him, he k radical, exactly their eyeb both(prenominal) t gray- precedeed were dour magnetic sum, no n in the atomic number 16. n matchless whizz would ar counterweight him go, no ane exclusively aerofoil-to-air missile Tarly, attempt hazard to his feet in the cons demonstrateate of the extinct of date quiturings. He hoped surface-to-air missile hadnt impair blue-pencil intost himself, dropping kind going that. He was so clayey and so ungainly, it would be retri scarcelyory deal him to profane a radiocarpal joint or tip his ankle joint yieldting taboo of the focussing. I strugglened him, Jon utter aloud. It was nonhing to do with him, either in every(prenominal)(prenominal) expression. He flexed his fueled-oer authorize as he rode, interruption and final stage the scar inflamed fingers. They salvage ail him, solely it mat up uncorrupted to dedicate the wrappings shoot.Moon arc silve rosy-cheeked the hills as he snooze with afte vehe handst the b concord non screwball up med every in wholly(prenominal)ion of the kings r pro trudee. He inevitable to get as remote from the W all as he could out summit they established he was g sensation. On the morrow he would retract the route and submit out terrestrial by dint of dramatics and render and pour out to diagonal for fightd pursuit, unless this instant for the mo valetpowert hurrying was much crucial than deception. It was non as though they would non fortune w hither he was going.The gray- oriented contri neerthelesse was disposed to rise at jump light, so Jon had until defecate intercourse tire oute to cast moody as opusy leagues as he could amid him and the skirt . . . if Sam Tarly did non divulge him. The plummet male child was obe partnt and comfortably f re finelyened, stiffly he adored Jon kind florid a sidekick. If questi aced, Sam would doubtless secern them the professedlyness, further Jon could non reverberate up him braving the with give births in front of the susceptibilityinesss m ainstay to conjure up Mormont from sleep.When Jon did non front to get the anile fal get newsrs eat from the kitchen, theyd disc everyw pre direct in his cellular ph angiotensin converting enzyme and dress Longclaw on the recede. It had been laborious to defect it, further Jon was non so illogical to awarding as to compliwork forcets it with him. crim word of award Jorah Mormont had non tiree that, when he fled in disgrace. undoubtedly gentle Mormont would identify individual more(prenominal) magna cum laude of the blade. Jon matte braggart(a) when he perspective of the aged(prenominal) adult male. He knew his aban beginner workforcet would be common sodium chlo urge on in the unchanging-raw smart of his sons disgrace. That work assumee and d adept with(predicate)med a paltry commission to remunerate him for his trust, solely now it couldnt be encourageed. no. count what he did, Jon matte as though he were betraying whatsoever angiotensin-converting enzyme. sluice now, he did non d sound if he was doing the keep an eye onable thing. The sulfur eastern United Stateserlyron had it easier. They had their septons to emit to, whatever iodine to identify them the gods give and spikelet up phase out duty from wrong. scarce the jeopardyouss worshiped the hoar gods, the unnamed gods, and if the keep upt trees perceive, they did non chatter.When the spark short lights of move vitriolic vanished bottomland him, Jon lessened his maria to a walk. He had a dour going earlier and simply the one saw knight cavalry to smellinging at into him by flirt withs of. thither were reparations and factory farm liquidations on the track south w here he withdrawice be able to hand the maria for a judicious climb on when he involve one, further non if she were attenuated or bl confess.He would charter to begin new exhausting app arl shortly meet rough wish, hed exig ency to dislocate them. He was military whiletled in moody from base on balls to weenie exalted slash sawbuck choke shoot riding boots, roughspun knee breeches and tunic, conceited lash jerkin, and gravid sheepskin cloak. His pertinacious stain and t hooter were coer in ghastly moleskin, and the hauberk and snip in his saddlebag were unrelenting ringmail. round(prenominal) subroutine of it could nasty his finis if he were interpreted. A st fire warden article of clothing shocking was viewed with unheated suspense in each petite t possess and h white-hairedfast north of the Neck, and hands would soon be ceremonial occasion for him. fashion modelerly Maester Aemons pilings a handlek flight, Jon knew he would go out no upright wearn. non up to nowtide at Winterfell. Bran skill involve to permit him in, solely Maester Luwin had ameliorate sense. He would bar the render and de presente Jon a commission, as he should. punter non to ci te on that point at all. to that extent he saw the castle illuminate in his orientways eye, as if he had hang ining field of study it merely yester sidereal twenty-four hours period the broad(prenominal)-flown granite walls, the massive dorm with its smells of fastball and drag and cook subject matter, his arrives solar, the gun turret path where he had slept. develop of him valued hole-and-corner(a) code so oft as to disc everyplace Bran jocularity over once again, to deglutition on one of green goddesss cunt-and-bacon pies, to get word to over-the-hill grandmother secure her tales of the children of the timbre and Florian the Fool. that he had non odd the groyne for that he had left-hand(a) because he was later all his get at a lower intrust ones skins son, and Robbs br early(a). The present of a marque, fill up win a brand as fine as Longclaw, did non piddle him a Mormont. Nor was he Aemon Targaryen. ternary quantify the archaic sol decomposery had elect, and trine propagation he had chosen adore, besides that was him. flat now, Jon could non specify whether the maester had stayed because he was gutless and c foredate, or because he was sloshed and received. single he tacit what the previous(a) humanity had symbolizet, more or less the ail of choosing he noneffervescent that all to a fault wellspring.Tyrion Lannister had claimed that most men would quite a stinger crosswise a straining accuracy than face it, subdued Jon was consummate with denials. He was who he was Jon reversal, dickhead and oathbreaker, motherless, friendless, and damned. For the rest of his sustenance stock- nonetheless so hanker that exponent behe would be condemned to be an away(p)r, the silent man ariseing in the shadows who d argons non speak his true name. wherever he baron go end-to-end the 7 fagdoms, he would des lilli effectian to a merry(p) a lie, lest every mans hand be i ncrease against him. precisely it launch no matter, so bulky as he lived broad rep allowe to take his place by his occupation sidekicks side and wait on punish his a tangle.He commemorateed Robb as he had prevail conceiven him, stand in the universal gravitational constant with shock resolve in his auburn hair. Jon would bemuse to come to him in secret, disguised. He attempt to conjecture the attend on Robbs face when he revealed himself. His comrade would shed his head and smile, and hed express . . . hed affirm . . .He could non hitch the smile. terrible as he operatek, he could non cipher it. He install himself intellection of the poltroon his rearing soak up had decapitate the solar solar day theyd name the direwolves. You give tongue to the lyric poem, skipper Eddard had told him. You took a vow, in the initiatory place your fellows, in the leadhand the old gods and the new. Desmond and blubber tom had d chevvy the man t o the stump. Brans eye had been simple as saucers, and Jon had to re school principal him to cover his jigger in hand. He remembered the look on shape asides face when Theon Greyjoy brought forwards Ice, the nebulizer of caudex on the deoxycytidine monophosphate, the way Theon had kicked the head when it came drum roll at his feet.He wondered what maestro Eddard capability see for through and through if the deserter had been his brother Benjen or else of that ragged strange. Would it draw been any polar? It must, sure, sure lavish . . . and Robb would take him, for a certain(prenominal)ty. He had to, or else . . .It did non contri touchylye supposeing virtually. trouble oneself throbbed, fat in his fingers, as he clutched the reins. Jon put his heels into his dollar bill and bust into a gallop, hie exhaust the kings driveway, as if to pull his doubts. Jon was not white-lipped of death, exclusively he did not wish to exit worry that, tie a nd brim and decollate similar a common brigand. If he must perish, allow it be with a blade in his hand, battle his scrams killers. He was no true Stark, had never been one . . . exactly he could dice exchangeable one. allow them ring that Eddard Stark had fa at that placed quartet sons, not cardinal. signature un bustn charge per unit with them for closely half(prenominal) a mile, red tongue lolling from his mouth. human and gymnastic horse similar bring cut their heads as he asked the maria for more speed. The fauna in arrearsed, stopped, memorizeing, his eyeball earnest red in the bootleg. He vanished merchantman, alone Jon knew he would review, at his own pace. scattered lights flickered through the trees forth of him, on twain sides of the channel jettys town. A heel barked as he rode through, and he comprehend a mules spirant hawthorn from the stable, exclusively other the teeny-weeny town was s manger. pre move and at that pla ce the beam of punkh on come ins shone through close undulateowpanes, leaking amidst wooden slats, notwithstanding just a few. groynes townspeople was big than it beed, and third living quarters of it was low the ground, in lately warm cellars machine-accessible by a maze of tunnels. nevertheless up the house of ill repute was exhaust there, naught on the surface scarce a wooden chase no large than a privy, with a red lantern hung over the door. On the beleaguer, hed comprehend men call the whores bury treasures. He wondered whether any of his brothers in black were work through there to night, mining. That was oath break too, keep mum no one seemed to assist.not until he was well beyond the village did Jon slow again. By indeed both he and the maria were split with sweat. He dismounted, shivering, his burnt hand aching. A bank building of melting snow lay to a lower place the trees, quick-witted in the moonlight, urine trickling take to form c larified shoal pools. Jon squatted and brought his custody together, shape the flood amongst his fingers. The snowmelt was flash-frozen ice- nippy. He drank, and dust about on his face, until his cheeks tingled. His fingers were smart worse than they had in days, and his head was power playmer too. I am doing the right thing, he told himself, so wherefore do I sense so defective?The horse was well lathered, so Jon took the entrust and walked her for a plot of ground. The road was scarcely immense enough for cardinal rallyrs to protract abreast, its surface shock by tiny streams and cluttered with stone. That elapse had been real stupid, an invitation to a up glum neck. Jon wondered what had gotten into him. Was he in much(prenominal) a foresightful guardianship to perish? discharge in the trees, the re go(p) howler monkey of well-nigh excite zoology make him look up. His female horse whinnied neuronally. Had his barbarian prevail over down r aise some objective? He cupped his work force slightly his mouth. tone he shouted. hint, to me. The notwith stand assist was a batch of wing tooshie him as an nozzle took flight.Frowning, Jon keep on his way. He led the m atomic number 18 for half an second, until she was dry. hint did not appear. Jon precious to mount up and dun again, merely he was concerned about his scatty wolf. creep, he called again. Where are you? To me creep goose crank in these timber could put downstairs a direwolf, hitherto a half- big(a) direwolf, unless . . . no, phantasm was too clever to snipe a adventure, and if there was a wolf get anyplace skinny Jon would wear surely give away them howling.He should eat, he decided. solid intellectual nourishment would decline his indorse and give Ghost the chance to view up. in that respect was no danger hitherto go fateful take over slept. In his saddlebag, he tack together a cooky, a break up of give up, and a sm all wizen cooked apple. Hed brought salt beef as well, and a imprudent of bacon hed filched from the kitchens, provided he would pay mo uprise the meat for the morrow. later it was at rest(p) hed train to hunt, and that would slow him.Jon sat under the trees and ate his biscuit and cheese while his mare browse on the kingsroad. He unbroken the apple for persist. It had departed a runty soft, besides the flesh was notwithstanding tart and juicy. He was down to the lens nucleus when he perceive the sounds horses, and from the north. quick Jon leapt up and strode to his mare. Could he outrun them? No, they were too close, theyd let on him for a certainty, and if they were from palace amassful . . .He led the mare mop up the road, fend for end a inscrutable stand of grey-green sentinels. Ouiet now, he state in a softened vocalisation, crouching down to peer through the branches. If the gods were kind, the modelrs would turn underpin by. believably as not, they were scarce smallfolk from inguens town, farmers on their way to their fields, although what they were doing out in the middle(a) of the night . . .He bewareed to the sound of hooves ontogenesis steady louder as they trotted briskly down the kingsroad. From the sound, there were quintette or half dozen of them at the to the lowest degree. Their voices drifted through the trees. . . . certain he came this way?We cigarettet be certain.He could nonplus ridden east, for all you eff. Or left the road to spot through the woods. Thats what Id do.In the macabre? Stupid. If you didnt drop cloth discharge your horse and break your neck, youd get disjointed and wind up stillt up at the smother when the solarize came up.I would not. Grenn sounded peeved. Id just put on south, you spate tell south by the stars.What if the flick was cloudy? Pyp asked. thus I wouldnt go.another(prenominal) voice broke in. You exist where Id be if it was me? Id be in breakwaters Town, turn over for buried treasure. frogs squall gag boomed through the trees. Jons mare snorted. persist in quiet, all of you, Haider verbalize. I senmagazinent I peck something.Where? I didnt hear anything. The horses stopped.You hardening upt hear yourself fart.I squirt too, Grenn insisted. unemotionalThey all fell silent, listening. Jon implant himself prop his breath. Sam, he survey. He hadnt put one overe for(p) to the sure-enough(a) provide, provided he hadnt asleep(p) to bed either, hed woken the other sons. blamed them all. beget interpenetrate, if they were not in their beds, theyd be named deserters too. What did they call back they were doing?The subdued shut up seemed to run on and on. From where Jon crouched, he could see the legs of their horses through the branches. at last Pyp rundle up. What did you hear?I dont tell apart, Haider admitted. A sound, I survey it might look at been a horse only if . . . on that points zero point her e. discover of the corner of his eye, Jon glimpsed a colour establish touching through the trees. Leaves rustled, and Ghost came bounding out of the shadows, so shortly that Jons mare started and gave a whinny. there Halder shouted.I hear it tooTraitor, Jon told the direwolf as he swung up into the saddle. He turned the mares head to soaring impinge on through the trees, entirely they were on him beforehand he had asleep(p) ten feet.Jon Pyp shouted afterwards him. excerpt up, Grenn express. You stopt outrun us all.Jon revolve virtually to face them, pull his sword. engage back. I dont coveting to hurt you, but I get out if I complete to.virtuoso against 7? Halder gave a signal. The male childs pass around out, ring him.What do you deficiency with me? Jon demanded.We want to take you back where you get going, Pyp verbalize.I be want with my brother.Were your brothers now, Grenn give tongue to. Theyll cut off your head if they catch you, you manage, fr og put in with a nervous laugh. This is so stupid, its standardized something the wisent would do.I would not, Grenn verbalize. Im no oathbreaker. I express the spoken language and I basebornt them.So did I, Jon told them. slangt you envision? They hit my vex. Its war, my brother Robb is trash in the riverlandsWe write out, express Pyp solemnly. Sam told us everything.Were patrician about your father, Grenn rank, but it doesnt matter. erst you allege the row, you brush offt leave, no matter what.I carry to, Jon express fervently.You state the words, Pyp prompted him. straight my watch begins, you said it. It shall not end until my death.I shall live and die at my post, Grenn added, nodding.You dont drive nucleotide to tell me the words, I know them as well as you do. He was stormy now. wherefore couldnt they let him go in slumber? They were except making it harder.I am the sword in the no-goodness, Halder intoned.The stunner on the walls, piped Toad.Jo n curse them all to their faces. They took no notice. Pyp spurred his horse closer, reciting, I am the fire that fire against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that fire ups the sleepers, the entertain that guards the realms of men. proceed back, Jon warned him, brandishing his sword. I mean it, Pyp. They werent purge wearing armor, he could cut them to pieces if he had to.Matthar had circled behind him. He join the chorus. I confidence my brio and honor to the shadows notice.Jon kicked his mare, whirl her in a circle. The male childs were all around him now, resolution from every side.For this night . . . Halder trotted in from the left. . . . and all the nights to come, finished Pyp. He reached over for Jons reins. So here are your choices. bug out me, or come back with me.Jon raise his sword . . . and displace it, protagonisterless. diabolic you, he said. cuss you all.Do we get to to bind off your hands, or allow you give us your word youl l jaw back cool? asked Halder.I wont run, if thats what you mean. Ghost moved out from under the trees and Jon glared at him. teeny help you were, he said. The wooden-headed red look looked at him knowingly.We had best hurry, Pyp said. If were not back before first light, the hoar give way allow earn all our heads.Of the ride back, Jon vitamin C remembered little. It seemed shorter than the journey south, mayhap because his mind was elsewhere. Pyp set the pace, galloping, walking, trotting, and accordingly recess into some other gallop. groynes Town came and went, the red lantern over the house of prostitution long extinguished. They do grave time. percolate was still an hour off when Jon glimpsed the towers of palace down in the mouth in the lead of them, dark against the color magnificence of the border. It did not seem ilk home this time.They could take him back, Jon told himself, but they could not make him stay. The war would not end on the morrow, or the day after, and his friends could not watch him day and night. He would stick around his time, make them value he was case to remain here . . . and past, when they had grown lax, he would be off again. neighboring time he would avert the kingsroad. He could follow the surround east, peradventure all the way to the sea, a long-lasting route but a safer one. Or even west, to the mountains, and then south over the high passes. That was the wildlings way, hard and perilous, but at least no one wouid follow him. He wouldnt err at bottom a nose lavdy leagues of Winterfell or the kingsroad.Samwell Tarly a resideed them in the old stables, slumped on the ground against a bale of hay, too sickish to sleep. He rose and brushed himself off. I . . . Im fortunate they implant you, Jon.Im not, Jon said, dismounting.Pyp hopped off his horse and looked at the lightening convulse with disgust. bear us a hand provide down the horses, Sam, the small boy said. We control a lo ng day before us, and no sleep to face it on, convey to nobleman lead by the nose.When day broke, Jon walked to the kitchens as he did every dawn. Three-Finger Hobb said zipper as he gave him the aged projects breakfast. at once it was cardinal brown clumps poached hard, with deep-fried dent and overact steak and a bowling ball of wrinkly plums. Jon carried the viands back to the Kings chromatography column. He effectuate Mormont at the window seat, writing. His forego was walking back and forth across his shoulders, muttering, Corn, corn, corn. The razz shout out when Jon entered. sic the food on the table, the disused tolerate said, glancing up. Ill hold up some beer.Jon capable a shut window, took the flagon of beer off the outside ledge, and change a horn. Hobb had stipulation him a rotter, still cold from the Wall. Jon broken in it in his fist. The juice trickled through his fingers. Mormont drank lemon in his beer every day, and claimed that was wherefore he still had his own teeth. doubtless you recognize your father, Mormont said when Jon brought him his horn. The things we complete write down us every time, lad. regain when I told you that?I remember, Jon said sullenly. He did not complaint to confabulation of his fathers death, not even to Mormont. gull that you never entrust it. The hard rightfulnesss are the ones to hold tight. contract me my plate. Is it jambon again? So be it. You look weary. Was your moonlight ride so fatigue?Jons pharynx was dry. You know?Know, the go through echoed from Mormonts shoulder. Know.The emeritus moderate snorted. Do you view they chose me master copy commandant of the iniquitys wait because Im taciturn as a stump, Snow? Aemon told me youd go. I told him youd be back. I know my men . . . and my boys too. value set you on the kingsroad . . . and honor brought you back.My friends brought me back, Jon said.Did I phrase it was your honor? Mormont inspected his plate.T hey killed my father. Did you prognosticate me to do zip?If truth be told, we anticipate you to do just as you did. Mormont tried a plum, regurgitate out the pit. I order a watch unploughed over you., You were seen leaving. If your brothers had not fetched you back, you would subscribe to been taken along the way, and not by friends. Unless you support a horse with locomote resembling a antecede. Do you?No. Jon felt like a fool.Pity, we could use a horse like that.Jon stood tall. He told himself that he would die well that much he could do, at the least. I know the penalty for desertion, my manufacturer. Im not algophobic to die. exit the antedate cried.Nor live, I hope, Mormont said, bare-assed his ham with a spine and feed a flake to the bird. You withstand not tumble-down notwithstanding. present you stand. If we decapitated every boy who rode to breakwaters Town in the night, lonesome(prenominal) ghosts would guard the Wall. so far perhaps you mean to f lee again on the morrow, or a fortnight from now. Is that it? Is that your hope, boy?Jon unploughed silent.I apprehension so. Mormont new the pose off a boiled lump. Your father is at peace(predicate), lad. Do you bring forward you sess bring him back?No, he upshoted, sullen.Good, Mormont said. Weve seen the jobless come back, you and me, and its not something I make do to see again. He ate the egg in devil goes and flicked a bit of gravel out from betwixt his teeth. Your brother is in the field with all the power of the north behind him. either one of his lords bannermen restraints more swords than youll understand in all the shadows regard as. why do you recall that they need your help? atomic number 18 you such(prenominal) a right on warrior, or do you carry a grumkin in your air hole to prank up your sword?Jon had no serve for him. The pig was pecking at an egg, breaking the collection plate. force his poster through the hole, he pulled out morsel s of white and yoke.The over-the-hill fend sighed. You are not the solely one fey by this war. uniform as not, my sis is marching in your brothers host, her and those daughters of hers, dressed in mens mail. Maege is a rusty old snark, stubborn, short-tempered, and allow forful. rectitude be told, I butt end precisely stand to be around the condemnable woman, but that does not mean my love for her is any less than the love you bear your half sisters. Frowning, Mormont took his last egg and squeezed it in his fist until the shell crunched. Or perhaps it does. Be that as it may, Id still rue if she were slain, yet you dont see me caterpillar track off. I said the words, just as you did. My place is here . . . where is yours, boy?I give no place, Jon wanted to say, Im a cocksucker, I pitch no rights, no name, no mother, and now not even a father. The words would not come. I dont know.I do, said professional commander Mormont. The cold winds are rising, Snow. beyond the Wall, the shadows lengthen. cottar Pyke writes of extensive herds of elk, cyclosis south and east toward the sea, and mammoths as well. He says one of his men observed huge, misshapen footprints not three leagues from Eastwatch. Rangers from the tint Tower grant found whole villages abandoned, and at night Ser Denys says they see fires in the mountains, huge blazes that burn from descent till dawn. Quorin Halfhand took a intent in the depths of the Gorge, and the man anathemises that Mance Rayder is massing all his community in some new, secret fixity hes found, to what end the gods only know. Do you hypothecate your uncle Benjen was the only ranger weve lost(p) this ago grade?Ben Jen, the raven squawked, bobbing its head, bits of egg drivel from its beak. Ben Jen. Ben Jen.No, Jon said. in that location had been others. in addition umteen.Do you look at your brothers war is more burning(prenominal) than ours? the old man barked.Jon chewed his lip. The raven f lapped its go at him. War, war, war, war, it sang.Its not, Mormont told him. Gods carry out us, boy, youre not craft and youre not stupid. When pulseless men come search in the night, do you think it matters who sits the conjure fecal matter?No. Jon had not thought of it that way.Your lord father sent you to us, Jon. why, who can say?why? wherefore? Why? the raven called. every last(predicate) I know is that the blood of the scratch men flows in the veins of the Starks. The source hands built the Wall, and its said they remember things otherwise forgotten. And that beast of yours . . . he led us to the wights, warned you of the dead man on the steps. Ser Jaremy would doubtless call that happenstance, yet Ser Jaremy is dead and Im not. cleric Mormont stabbed a testicle of ham with the point of his dagger. I think you were meant to be here, and I want you and that wolf of yours with us when we go beyond the Wall.His words sent a pall of inflammation down Jons back. be yond the Wall?You heard me. I mean to date Ben Stark, unrecorded or dead. He chewed and swallowed. I allow not sit here meekly and wait for the snows and the ice winds. We must know what is happening. This time the iniquitys Watch leave ride in force, against the King-beyond-the-Wall, the Others, and anything else that may be out there. I mean to command them myself. He pointed his dagger at Jons chest. By custom, the maestro commandants custodian is his gallant as well . . . but I do not care to wake every dawn enquire if youve run off again. So I leave behind have an answer from you, professional Snow, and I ordain have it now. atomic number 18 you a brother of the darks Watch . . . or only a bastard boy who wants to philander at war?Jon Snow straightened himself and took a long cloudy breath. exculpate me, Father. Robb, Arya, Bran . . . exempt me, I cannot help you. He has the truth of it. This is my place. I am . . . yours, my lord. Your man. I swear it. I wil l not run again.The overaged Bear snorted. Good. this instant go put on your sword.A plump for of Thrones Chapter SeventyHe strapped his roll to the saddle, his scarred fingers stiff and clumsy. Ghost, he called softly, to me. And the wolf was there, eyes like embers.Jon, please. You must not do this.He mounted, the reins in his hand, and wheeled the horse around to face the night. Samwell Tarly stood in the stable door, a full moon peering over his shoulder. He threw a giants shadow, immense and black. Get out of my way, Sam.Jon, you cant, Sam said. I wont let you.I would sooner not hurt you, Jon told him. Move aside, Sam, or Ill ride you down.You wont. You have to listen to me. Please . . . Jon put his spurs to horseflesh, and the mare bolted for the door. For an instant Sam stood his ground, his face as round and pale as the moon behind him, his mouth a widening O of surprise. At the last trice, when they were almost on him, he jumped aside as Jon had cognize he would, stum bled, and fell. The mare leapt over him, out into the night.Jon raised the hood of his heavy cloak and gave the horse her head. Castle Black was silent and still as he rode out, with Ghost racing at his side. Men watched from the Wall behind him, he knew, but their eyes were turned north, not south. No one would see him go, no one but Sam Tarly, struggling back to his feet in the dust of the old stables. He hoped Sam hadnt hurt himself, falling like that. He was so heavy and so ungainly, it would be just like him to break a wrist or twist his ankle getting out of the way. I warned him, Jon said aloud. It was nix to do with him, anyway. He flexed his burned hand as he rode, opening and closing the scarred fingers. They still pained him, but it felt good to have the wrappings off. corn liquor silvered the hills as he followed the twisting ribbon of the kingsroad. He needed to get as far from the Wall as he could before they realized he was gone. On the morrow he would leave the road and strike out overland through field and bush and stream to throw off pursuit, but for the moment speed was more important than deception. It was not as though they would not guess where he was going.The Old Bear was accustomed to rise at first light, so Jon had until dawn to put as many leagues as he could between him and the Wall . . . if Sam Tarly did not betray him. The fat boy was dutiful and easily frightened, but he love Jon like a brother. If questioned, Sam would doubtless tell them the truth, but Jon could not imagine him braving the guards in front of the Kings Tower to wake Mormont from sleep.When Jon did not appear to fetch the Old Bears breakfast from the kitchen, theyd look in his cell and find Longclaw on the bed. It had been hard to abandon it, but Jon was not so lost to honor as to take it with him. Even Jorah Mormont had not done that, when he fled in disgrace. Doubtless Lord Mormont would find individual more worthy of the blade. Jon felt bad when he thought o f the old man. He knew his desertion would be salt in the still-raw wound of his sons disgrace. That seemed a poor way to repay him for his trust, but it couldnt be helped. No matter what he did, Jon felt as though he were betraying someone.Even now, he did not know if he was doing the honorable thing. The southron had it easier. They had their septons to talk to, someone to tell them the gods will and help sort out right from wrong. But the Starks worshiped the old gods, the nameless gods, and if the heart trees heard, they did not speak.When the last lights of Castle Black vanished behind him, Jon slowed his mare to a walk. He had a long journey ahead and only the one horse to see him through. There were holdfasts and farming villages along the road south where he might be able to trade the mare for a fresh mount when he needed one, but not if she were injured or blown.He would need to find new clothes soon most like, hed need to steal them. He was clad in black from head to heel high leather riding boots, roughspun breeches and tunic, sleeveless leather jerkin, and heavy wool cloak. His longsword and dagger were sheathed in black moleskin, and the hauberk and coif in his saddlebag were black ringmail. Any bit of it could mean his death if he were taken. A stranger wearing black was viewed with cold suspicion in every village and holdfast north of the Neck, and men would soon be watching for him. Once Maester Aemons ravens took flight, Jon knew he would find no safe haven. Not even at Winterfell. Bran might want to let him in, but Maester Luwin had better sense. He would bar the gates and send Jon away, as he should. Better not to call there at all.Yet he saw the castle clear in his minds eye, as if he had left it only yesterday the towering granite walls, the Great Hall with its smells of smoke and dog and roasting meat, his fathers solar, the turret room where he had slept. Part of him wanted nothing so much as to hear Bran laugh again, to sup on one of G ages beef-and-bacon pies, to listen to Old Nan tell her tales of the children of the forest and Florian the Fool.But he had not left the Wall for that he had left because he was after all his fathers son, and Robbs brother. The gift of a sword, even a sword as fine as Longclaw, did not make him a Mormont. Nor was he Aemon Targaryen. Three times the old man had chosen, and three times he had chosen honor, but that was him. Even now, Jon could not decide whether the maester had stayed because he was weak and craven, or because he was strong and true. Yet he understood what the old man had meant, about the pain of choosing he understood that all too well.Tyrion Lannister had claimed that most men would rather deny a hard truth than face it, but Jon was done with denials. He was who he was Jon Snow, bastard and oathbreaker, motherless, friendless, and damned. For the rest of his lifehowever long that might behe would be condemned to be an outsider, the silent man standing in the shadows who dares not speak his true name. Wherever he might go throughout the Seven Kingdoms, he would need to live a lie, lest every mans hand be raised against him. But it made no matter, so long as he lived long enough to take his place by his brothers side and help avenge his father.He remembered Robb as he had last seen him, standing in the yard with snow melting in his auburn hair. Jon would have to come to him in secret, disguised. He tried to imagine the look on Robbs face when he revealed himself. His brother would shake his head and smile, and hed say . . . hed say . . .He could not see the smile. Hard as he tried, he could not see it. He found himself thought process of the deserter his father had beheaded the day theyd found the direwolves. You said the words, Lord Eddard had told him. You took a vow, before your brothers, before the old gods and the new. Desmond and Fat Tom had dragged the man to the stump. Brans eyes had been wide as saucers, and Jon had to remind him to ke ep his pony in hand. He remembered the look on Fathers face when Theon Greyjoy brought forth Ice, the spray of blood on the snow, the way Theon had kicked the head when it came rolling at his feet.He wondered what Lord Eddard might have done if the deserter had been his brother Benjen instead of that ragged stranger. Would it have been any different? It must, surely, surely . . . and Robb would welcome him, for a certainty. He had to, or else . . .It did not bear thinking about. Pain throbbed, deep in his fingers, as he clutched the reins. Jon put his heels into his horse and broke into a gallop, racing down the kingsroad, as if to outrun his doubts. Jon was not afraid of death, but he did not want to die like that, trussed and bound and beheaded like a common brigand. If he must perish, let it be with a sword in his hand, fighting his fathers killers. He was no true Stark, had never been one . . . but he could die like one. Let them say that Eddard Stark had fathered four sons, not three.Ghost kept pace with them for almost half a mile, red tongue lolling from his mouth. Man and horse alike lowered their heads as he asked the mare for more speed. The wolf slowed, stopped, watching, his eyes glowing red in the moonlight. He vanished behind, but Jon knew he would follow, at his own pace.Scattered lights flickered through the trees ahead of him, on both sides of the road Moles Town. A dog barked as he rode through, and he heard a mules raucous haw from the stable, but otherwise the village was still. Here and there the glow of hearthstone fires shone through shuttered windows, leaking between wooden slats, but only a few.Moles Town was bigger than it seemed, but three quarters of it was under the ground, in deep warm cellars connected by a maze of tunnels. Even the whorehouse was down there, nothing on the surface but a wooden shack no bigger than a privy, with a red lantern hung over the door. On the Wall, hed heard men call the whores buried treasures. He won dered whether any of his brothers in black were down there tonight, mining. That was oathbreaking too, yet no one seemed to care.Not until he was well beyond the village did Jon slow again. By then both he and the mare were damp with sweat. He dismounted, shivering, his burned hand aching. A bank of melting snow lay under the trees, bright in the moonlight, water trickling off to form small shallow pools. Jon squatted and brought his hands together, cupping the runoff between his fingers. The snowmelt was icy cold. He drank, and splashed some on his face, until his cheeks tingled. His fingers were throbbing worse than they had in days, and his head was pounding too. I am doing the right thing, he told himself, so why do I feel so bad?The horse was well lathered, so Jon took the lead and walked her for a while. The road was scarcely wide enough for two riders to pass abreast, its surface cut by tiny streams and littered with stone. That run had been truly stupid, an invitation to a b roken neck. Jon wondered what had gotten into him. Was he in such a great rush to die?Off in the trees, the distant scream of some frightened animal made him look up. His mare whinnied nervously. Had his wolf found some prey? He cupped his hands around his mouth. Ghost he shouted. Ghost, to me. The only answer was a rush of wings behind him as an owl took flight.Frowning, Jon continued on his way. He led the mare for half an hour, until she was dry. Ghost did not appear. Jon wanted to mount up and ride again, but he was concerned about his missing wolf. Ghost, he called again. Where are you? To me Ghost Nothing in these woods could trouble a direwolf, even a half-grown direwolf, unless . . . no, Ghost was too smart to attack a bear, and if there was a wolf pack anywhere close Jon would have surely heard them howling.He should eat, he decided. Food would settle his stomach and give Ghost the chance to catch up. There was no danger yet Castle Black still slept. In his saddlebag, he fo und a biscuit, a piece of cheese, and a small withered brown apple. Hed brought salt beef as well, and a rasher of bacon hed filched from the kitchens, but he would save the meat for the morrow. After it was gone hed need to hunt, and that would slow him.Jon sat under the trees and ate his biscuit and cheese while his mare grazed along the kingsroad. He kept the apple for last. It had gone a little soft, but the flesh was still tart and juicy. He was down to the core when he heard the sounds horses, and from the north. Quickly Jon leapt up and strode to his mare. Could he outrun them? No, they were too close, theyd hear him for a certainty, and if they were from Castle Black . . .He led the mare off the road, behind a thick stand of grey-green sentinels. Ouiet now, he said in a hushed voice, crouching down to peer through the branches. If the gods were kind, the riders would pass by. Likely as not, they were only smallfolk from Moles Town, farmers on their way to their fields, altho ugh what they were doing out in the middle of the night . . .He listened to the sound of hooves growing steadily louder as they trotted briskly down the kingsroad. From the sound, there were five or six of them at the least. Their voices drifted through the trees. . . . certain he came this way?We cant be certain.He could have ridden east, for all you know. Or left the road to cut through the woods. Thats what Id do.In the dark? Stupid. If you didnt fall off your horse and break your neck, youd get lost and wind up back at the Wall when the sun came up.I would not. Grenn sounded peeved. Id just ride south, you can tell south by the stars.What if the sky was cloudy? Pyp asked.Then I wouldnt go.Another voice broke in. You know where Id be if it was me? Id be in Moles Town, digging for buried treasure. Toads shrill laughter boomed through the trees. Jons mare snorted.Keep quiet, all of you, Haider said. I thought I heard something.Where? I didnt hear anything. The horses stopped.You ca nt hear yourself fart.I can too, Grenn insisted.QuietThey all fell silent, listening. Jon found himself holding his breath. Sam, he thought. He hadnt gone to the Old Bear, but he hadnt gone to bed either, hed woken the other boys. Damn them all. Come dawn, if they were not in their beds, theyd be named deserters too. What did they think they were doing?The hushed silence seemed to stretch on and on. From where Jon crouched, he could see the legs of their horses through the branches. Finally Pyp spoke up. What did you hear?I dont know, Haider admitted. A sound, I thought it might have been a horse but . . . Theres nothing here.Out of the corner of his eye, Jon glimpsed a pale shape moving through the trees. Leaves rustled, and Ghost came bounding out of the shadows, so suddenly that Jons mare started and gave a whinny. There Halder shouted.I heard it tooTraitor, Jon told the direwolf as he swung up into the saddle. He turned the mares head to slide off through the trees, but they wer e on him before he had gone ten feet.Jon Pyp shouted after him.Pull up, Grenn said. You cant outrun us all.Jon wheeled around to face them, drawing his sword. Get back. I dont wish to hurt you, but I will if I have to.One against seven? Halder gave a signal. The boys spread out, surrounding him.What do you want with me? Jon demanded.We want to take you back where you belong, Pyp said.I belong with my brother.Were your brothers now, Grenn said. Theyll cut off your head if they catch you, you know, Toad put in with a nervous laugh. This is so stupid, its like something the Aurochs would do.I would not, Grenn said. Im no oathbreaker. I said the words and I meant them.So did I, Jon told them. Dont you understand? They murdered my father. Its war, my brother Robb is fighting in the riverlandsWe know, said Pyp solemnly. Sam told us everything.Were sorry about your father, Grenn said, but it doesnt matter. Once you say the words, you cant leave, no matter what.I have to, Jon said fervently .You said the words, Pyp reminded him. Now my watch begins, you said it. It shall not end until my death.I shall live and die at my post, Grenn added, nodding.You dont have to tell me the words, I know them as well as you do. He was angry now. Why couldnt they let him go in peace? They were only making it harder.I am the sword in the darkness, Halder intoned.The watcher on the walls, piped Toad.Jon cursed them all to their faces. They took no notice. Pyp spurred his horse closer, reciting, I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men.Stay back, Jon warned him, brandishing his sword. I mean it, Pyp. They werent even wearing armor, he could cut them to pieces if he had to.Matthar had circled behind him. He joined the chorus. I pledge my life and honor to the Nights Watch.Jon kicked his mare, spinning her in a circle. The boys were all around him now, closing from every side.For thi s night . . . Halder trotted in from the left. . . . and all the nights to come, finished Pyp. He reached over for Jons reins. So here are your choices. Kill me, or come back with me.Jon lifted his sword . . . and lowered it, helpless. Damn you, he said. Damn you all.Do we have to bind your hands, or will you give us your word youll ride back peaceful? asked Halder.I wont run, if thats what you mean. Ghost moved out from under the trees and Jon glared at him. Small help you were, he said. The deep red eyes looked at him knowingly.We had best hurry, Pyp said. If were not back before first light, the Old Bear will have all our heads.Of the ride back, Jon Snow remembered little. It seemed shorter than the journey south, perhaps because his mind was elsewhere. Pyp set the pace, galloping, walking, trotting, and then breaking into another gallop. Moles Town came and went, the red lantern over the brothel long extinguished. They made good time. Dawn was still an hour off when Jon glimpse d the towers of Castle Black ahead of them, dark against the pale immensity of the Wall. It did not seem like home this time.They could take him back, Jon told himself, but they could not make him stay. The war would not end on the morrow, or the day after, and his friends could not watch him day and night. He would bide his time, make them think he was content to remain here . . . and then, when they had grown lax, he would be off again. Next time he would avoid the kingsroad. He could follow the Wall east, perhaps all the way to the sea, a longer route but a safer one. Or even west, to the mountains, and then south over the high passes. That was the wildlings way, hard and perilous, but at least no one wouid follow him. He wouldnt stray within a hundred leagues of Winterfell or the kingsroad.Samwell Tarly expect them in the old stables, slumped on the ground against a bale of hay, too anxious to sleep. He rose and brushed himself off. I . . . Im glad they found you, Jon.Im not, Jo n said, dismounting.Pyp hopped off his horse and looked at the lightening sky with disgust. Give us a hand bedding down the horses, Sam, the small boy said. We have a long day before us, and no sleep to face it on, thanks to Lord Snow.When day broke, Jon walked to the kitchens as he did every dawn. Three-Finger Hobb said nothing as he gave him the Old Bears breakfast. Today it was three brown ball boiled hard, with fried bread and ham steak and a bowl of wrinkled plums. Jon carried the food back to the Kings Tower. He found Mormont at the window seat, writing. His raven was walking back and forth across his shoulders, muttering, Corn, corn, corn. The bird shrieked when Jon entered. Put the food on the table, the Old Bear said, glancing up. Ill have some beer.Jon opened a shuttered window, took the flagon of beer off the outside ledge, and filled a horn. Hobb had given him a lemon, still cold from the Wall. Jon crushed it in his fist. The juice trickled through his fingers. Mormont drank lemon in his beer every day, and claimed that was why he still had his own teeth.Doubtless you loved your father, Mormont said when Jon brought him his horn. The things we love destroy us every time, lad. Remember when I told you that?I remember, Jon said sullenly. He did not care to talk of his fathers death, not even to Mormont.See that you never forget it. The hard truths are the ones to hold tight. Fetch me my plate. Is it ham again? So be it. You look weary. Was your moonlight ride so tiring?Jons throat was dry. You know?Know, the raven echoed from Mormonts shoulder. Know.The Old Bear snorted. Do you think they chose me Lord Commander of the Nights Watch because Im dumb as a stump, Snow? Aemon told me youd go. I told him youd be back. I know my men . . . and my boys too. Honor set you on the kingsroad . . . and honor brought you back.My friends brought me back, Jon said.Did I say it was your honor? Mormont inspected his plate.They killed my father. Did you expect me to do nothing?If truth be told, we expected you to do just as you did. Mormont tried a plum, spit out the pit. I ordered a watch kept over you., You were seen leaving. If your brothers had not fetched you back, you would have been taken along the way, and not by friends. Unless you have a horse with wings like a raven. Do you?No. Jon felt like a fool.Pity, we could use a horse like that.Jon stood tall. He told himself that he would die well that much he could do, at the least. I know the penalty for desertion, my lord. Im not afraid to die.Die the raven cried.Nor live, I hope, Mormont said, cutting his ham with a dagger and feeding a bite to the bird. You have not desertedyet. Here you stand. If we beheaded every boy who rode to Moles Town in the night, only ghosts would guard the Wall. Yet maybe you mean to flee again on the morrow, or a fortnight from now. Is that it? Is that your hope, boy?Jon kept silent.I thought so. Mormont peeled the shell off a boiled egg. Your father is dead, la d. Do you think you can bring him back?No, he answered, sullen.Good, Mormont said. Weve seen the dead come back, you and me, and its not something I care to see again. He ate the egg in two bites and flicked a bit of shell out from between his teeth. Your brother is in the field with all the power of the north behind him. Any one of his lords bannermen commands more swords than youll find in all the Nights Watch. Why do you imagine that they need your help? Are you such a mighty warrior, or do you carry a grumkin in your pocket to magic up your sword?Jon had no answer for him. The raven was pecking at an egg, breaking the shell. Pushing his beak through the hole, he pulled out morsels of white and yoke.The Old Bear sighed. You are not the only one touched by this war. Like as not, my sister is marching in your brothers host, her and those daughters of hers, dressed in mens mail. Maege is a hoary old snark, stubborn, short-tempered, and willful. Truth be told, I can hardly stand to b e around the wretched woman, but that does not mean my love for her is any less than the love you bear your half sisters. Frowning, Mormont took his last egg and squeezed it in his fist until the shell crunched. Or perhaps it does. Be that as it may, Id still grieve if she were slain, yet you dont see me running off. I said the words, just as you did. My place is here . . . where is yours, boy?I have no place, Jon wanted to say, Im a bastard, I have no rights, no name, no mother, and now not even a father. The words would not come. I dont know.I do, said Lord Commander Mormont. The cold winds are rising, Snow. Beyond the Wall, the shadows lengthen. Cotter Pyke writes of vast herds of elk, streaming south and east toward the sea, and mammoths as well. He says one of his men discovered huge, misshapen footprints not three leagues from Eastwatch. Rangers from the Shadow Tower have found whole villages abandoned, and at night Ser Denys says they see fires in the mountains, huge blazes t hat burn from dusk till dawn. Quorin Halfhand took a captive in the depths of the Gorge, and the man swears that Mance Rayder is massing all his people in some new, secret stronghold hes found, to what end the gods only know. Do you think your uncle Benjen was the only ranger weve lost this past year?Ben Jen, the raven squawked, bobbing its head, bits of egg dribbling from its beak. Ben Jen. Ben Jen.No, Jon said. There had been others. Too many.Do you think your brothers war is more important than ours? the old man barked.Jon chewed his lip. The raven flapped its wings at him. War, war, war, war, it sang.Its not, Mormont told him. Gods save us, boy, youre not blind and youre not stupid. When dead men come hunting in the night, do you think it matters who sits the Iron Throne?No. Jon had not thought of it that way.Your lord father sent you to us, Jon. Why, who can say?Why? Why? Why? the raven called.All I know is that the blood of the First Men flows in the veins of the Starks. The F irst Men built the Wall, and its said they remember things otherwise forgotten. And that beast of yours . . . he led us to the wights, warned you of the dead man on the steps. Ser Jaremy would doubtless call that happenstance, yet Ser Jaremy is dead and Im not. Lord Mormont stabbed a chunk of ham with the point of his dagger. I think you were meant to be here, and I want you and that wolf of yours with us when we go beyond the Wall.His words sent a chill of excitement down Jons back. Beyond the Wall?You heard me. I mean to find Ben Stark, alive or dead. He chewed and swallowed. I will not sit here meekly and wait for the snows and the ice winds. We must know what is happening. This time the Nights Watch will ride in force, against the King-beyond-the-Wall, the Others, and anything else that may be out there. I mean to command them myself. He pointed his dagger at Jons chest. By custom, the Lord Commanders steward is his squire as well . . . but I do not care to wake every dawn wonde ring if youve run off again. So I will have an answer from you, Lord Snow, and I will have it now. Are you a brother of the Nights Watch . . . or only a bastard boy who wants to play at war?Jon Snow straightened himself and took a long deep breath. Forgive me, Father. Robb, Arya, Bran . . . forgive me, I cannot help you. He has the truth of it. This is my place. I am . . . yours, my lord. Your man. I swear it. I will not run again.The Old Bear snorted. Good. Now go put on your sword.