"Filthy crow, don't touch me! I can walk on my own!"In the flickering firelight, a wild-haired redheaded woman staggered to her feet. Two men in black cloaks, brothers of the Night's Watch, moved toward her. One grabbed her roughly from behind, locking his arms around her waist. The other slapped her across the face before chaining her hands and feet.
All three kept moving as they hurled curses at each other—the wildling calling them "crows," while the black-cloaked brothers mocked her as an "uncivilized spearwife."
"Ygritte!"Jon heard the shrill, angry voice of the red-haired woman and turned back, jogging a few steps before stopping just short of her. Hesitating, he asked, "Ygritte, are you hurt? Ah—your face! You were burned by dragonfire!"
"Jon Snow, if you're a man, come and bind me yourself!" Ygritte shouted.
"I—" Jon felt a mix of joy that his lover hadn't died in the chaos, and embarrassment as she exposed their affair in front of everyone.
Daenerys stepped forward, curiously studying the wildling woman who had taken Jon's virginity. She looked about twenty, quite short—barely over five feet—so thin she was practically skin and bones. Her round face had a flat nose dotted with faint freckles between the nostrils, and a mouth full of crooked but clean white teeth.
Of course, her most striking feature was her fiery red, tangled hair.
However, it seemed Daenerys's forty-meter-long "flame blade" had singed her. A good portion of her hair was scorched, her face was smeared with soot, and her ragged leather coat was marked with blackened burns.
"See to the others first. I have questions for her," Daenerys said to the two black-cloaked men.
"This…" The two looked hesitantly at blacksmith Donal. Only after he gave them a nod did they release Ygritte, stepping back, bowing, and then turning toward another wildling.
"You… ride a dragon?"Ygritte glared at Daenerys, clenching her fists, seemingly ready to make a move and take the queen hostage. But the clink of chains at her wrists made her sigh in frustration and unclench her hands.
Daenerys dragged over a wooden bucket, turned it upright, and sat down gracefully. "You're called Ygritte, right? You're my prisoner now. I ask, you answer. Understood?"
Ygritte opened her mouth, glanced at Jon who stood nearby with his head lowered in silence, and finally nodded. "That's right. We're surrendering to the woman who rides dragons, not to the crows."
"When did the White Walkers first appear?" Daenerys asked.
"Hmm…" Ygritte thought for a moment, then shook her head. "I don't know. Those monsters seem like they've always been around. Ever since I can remember, we'd run into walking dead when hunting outside the camp."
"Seven save us—how long ago was that?" Barristan and the others gasped.
"At least ten years, maybe even earlier," said Maester Aemon, frowning.
"Why didn't you say anything before?" Jon asked, stunned.
"Jon Snow, you never asked me!" the red-haired wildling yelled at him.
"You've just been living alongside those monsters?" Archmaester Perestan asked in disbelief.
"We wanted to cross the Wall, but the crows wouldn't let us! Then the monsters kept growing in number and strength. Even the biggest tribes were having their camps overrun. That's when Mance Rayder decided to cross the Wall before something worse happened," Ygritte shouted.
The red-nosed old man exclaimed, "What could be worse than that?!"
"Are you stupid?" Daenerys rolled her eyes. "Winter, of course! If the White Walkers are this bold in summer, just imagine what they'll be like in the dead of winter."
"Yes. Winter," Ygritte confirmed.
Blacksmith Donal asked with concern, "Have all the wildlings come south?"
"All of them. Hundreds of thousands have gathered at the base of the Wall. We have giants—hundreds of them. Even dragons can't beat giants."
"Dragons can fly. Can giants fly?" Daenerys asked with a smile.
"Giants have bows and spears," Ygritte said smugly. "'Strong' Mag the Mighty has a longbow taller than a city gate, thicker than your leg. He once stood at the foot of a mountain and shot a bald eagle off the peak with a single arrow.
Your dragon flies too high to hit him. If it flies lower, he'll shoot it through the head—just like I shoot pheasants through the neck."
"Hm. I've been careless!" Daenerys slapped her forehead and said seriously, "I underestimated the giants' strength. Good thing you reminded me, or tomorrow could've been dangerous."
Ygritte's smug grin froze on her face. Frustration and disappointment filled her blue eyes.
Daenerys watched her and chuckled inwardly. She rarely used her dragons to breathe fire on enemies. When she did, she always carefully scouted the battlefield.
Take tonight, for example—she had arrived much earlier, silently circling in the sky several times to confirm the wildlings had no scorpions or ballistae, and only a pitiful number of bows. Only then did Little White dive from high above. Even then, he didn't breathe fire directly but landed at a distance, using special-effects-enhanced flames to intimidate the enemy.
Daenerys was extremely cautious even with regular crossbows—how could she not be wary of a giant's longbow?
"Does Mance Rayder have any intention of surrendering?" Daenerys asked again.
"Free folk never surrender!" Ygritte declared proudly.
"Aren't you surrendering now?" Barristan asked, amused.
"It was my first time seeing a dragon, and it spat a fire-blade right at my face—I was terrified," Ygritte admitted honestly.
Then she touched her burned, red-black left cheek, wincing in pain. "But now I'm not afraid. If that's all a mighty dragon's flame-blade can do to me, maybe dragons aren't so scary after all."
"Heh. I hope all my enemies think like that," Daenerys said with a smile.
Castle Black was made up of a wooden main keep connected to six stone towers. The main building housed the dining hall, assembly hall, rookery, armory, barracks, and other communal facilities. The six towers were the Commander's Tower, King's Tower, Hardin's Tower, Spear Tower, Guard Tower, and Silent Tower.
The King's Tower was prepared exclusively for the royal guests. That night, Daenerys stayed there with Barristan and Perestan.
A Night's Watch member named Grenn brought two farmwomen who worked through the night to clean the master bedroom thoroughly, lay fresh feather bedding, and light the fireplace.
The wildlings launched a surprise attack at midnight. After the battle, by the time all 130 surviving wildlings were locked in the dungeons, the sky in the east was already turning pale with dawn.
But none of the Night's Watch had any desire to sleep — including Jon. They were all curiously observing the two dragons sleeping by the gates of the King's Tower.
"So those are dragons… they're huge. Look, there are even sparks coming out of their nostrils!" said Pyp, his large ears flapping as he clicked his tongue in amazement.
"They're just hatchlings," said Todder, the short and ugly one, shaking his head and smugly recounting tales he'd heard from tavern bards. "It's said that Balerion could swallow a mammoth whole. Her Majesty Daenerys' dragons still have a lot of growing to do!"
"Toad, how long do you think Balerion's dragonfire greatsword was?" Pyp asked dumbly.
"Uh..." 'Toad' Todder scratched the back of his head. In the stories, Balerion had burned Harrenhal, created a blaze called 'Field of Fire,' and even incinerated the Great Sept of King's Landing and laid the Dornish cities to waste — but he didn't remember hearing anything about a greatsword made of dragonfire.
Still, unwilling to ruin his reputation as a well-informed know-it-all, he blurted out based on size alone, "At least two kilometers."
"Wow! That'd cut down so many people in one swing!"
"Ah, such is the might of dragons," Toad said with exaggerated pride, swaying his head. "No matter how many wildlings Mance Rayder brings, they're bound to be crushed before Her Majesty's two dragons."
Jon cast a glance at his two companions and turned to the blacksmith, Donal. "Maester Luwin told me the Targaryen dragons went extinct two hundred years ago."
"That's right," the blacksmith nodded. "Not long after the Dance of the Dragons, they all died out."
"Then how does Daenerys have two dragons?" Jon asked, worried. "We never heard of her before, and now she suddenly appears at the Wall with dragons."
"What are you so concerned about?" the one-armed blacksmith shot him a look. "The Starks are either dead or missing. You think she'd take revenge on a bastard like you?"
Jon hesitated. "I don't know. The Night's Watch should remain apolitical, but maybe… Sansa and Arya still have a chance to rebuild Winterfell. Now the Targaryens are back, and I…"
The one-armed blacksmith shifted his gaze from the black dragon to the King's Tower, his expression complex. "Westeros needs a king. And in at least one way, she's better than all the others — she has a sense of responsibility. She gave up chasing the Iron Throne to help Westeros fight its true enemies.
If either the wildlings or the White Walkers breach the Wall, Winterfell and the entire North will be doomed. A hundred Sansa Starks surviving would mean nothing then."
"Toad" Todder cheerfully leaned in toward the blacksmith and grinned. "Master Donal, shouldn't we assign two guards to the King's Tower? I'd gladly protect Her Majesty."
"So would I!"
"Me too! I'm not hurt and not tired!"
Several Night's Watch brothers immediately gathered around, excited.
The one-armed blacksmith thought about it. Toad's suggestion made sense. Though the Dragon Queen had two dragons and the legendary Barristan the Bold by her side, ensuring her safety, it was still the Night's Watch's duty as hosts to assign guards.
"Jon, you'll be on duty at the Queen's door for the next few days."
He figured he might as well create a chance for his young brother to get closer to the Queen. Jon's concerns weren't unfounded — after all, the Stark and Targaryen houses had a blood feud spanning generations.
Maybe, if Jon made a good impression, the Queen might show mercy for the sake of the fallen House Stark and spare him — and his two sisters.
Jon seemed to understand Donal's intention and patted his chest with confidence. "Even though my leg's not fully healed, I'll do my best and won't disgrace the Night's Watch."
The next morning, as Daenerys stepped out of the King's Tower, the first thing she saw was Jon curled up beside the oak gate, shivering. He stood firm with a long spear, braving the cold wind and snow like a loyal little soldier guarding the entrance.
As he limped over to greet her, Daenerys felt a twinge of sympathy. But that feeling quickly gave way to confusion: neither Drogon nor Rhaegal had chased him off!
The dragons had been guarding the door all night. Not just anyone could stand so close to them for that long.
"Did they bite you?" Daenerys asked, pointing to the dragons.
"No. When I walked over, they just glanced at me and went back to sleep."
"Woooo—Woooo—" Before she could ask more, a long, sharp horn blast sounded from the top of the wall — two blasts.
"One means brothers returning, two means wildling attack. Your Grace, wildlings are attacking!" Jon said urgently.
"I haven't even had breakfast yet…" Daenerys muttered and turned to Barristan and the old maester. "Let's go take a look."
(End of Chapter)
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