On the other side, Jon emerged from the city gate tunnel with a tall woman. Behind them followed two spearwives carrying a stretcher, from which the wails of an infant could be heard.
"Your Grace, this is Mance's wife, Dalla," Jon said with a bow before pointing to the pale, blonde woman on the stretcher and explaining, "The conditions in the new camp are terrible. It's at the base of the Wall and gets no sunlight, and now it's overcrowded. Maester Perestan fears she won't make it."
"Alright," Daenerys nodded. "You may bring all the severely injured into the Wall. Don't worry about Stannis."
"May I see my brother-in-law just once?" the tall woman looked Daenerys straight in the eye as she asked.
"You're Dalla's sister?"
"My name is Val."
Val was the most beautiful and clean-looking wildling girl Daenerys had ever seen. Her thick, honey-colored hair wasn't greasy or matted, but soft and flowed like silk in the wind. Her face was fair and smooth, and her white fox-fur coat was scarcely soiled.
Unlike Ygritte, whose lice could be seen crawling in and out of her oily hair. Her neck bore layers of dirt, and while her face was frequently washed and white, everything below her neck hadn't been cleaned in months, coated in greasy, gray-black grime.
"Hey, Giant-Slayer," Daenerys shouted toward Ser Godry Farring, "Mance's wife gave birth to a son. Go bring him out, let the family share a moment of joy."
Mance had led over a thousand riders to battle Stannis, but the man had even slaughtered four hundred giants—would he fear a bunch of wildlings who didn't even have proper weapons?
And so, the King-Beyond-the-Wall was captured by Stannis and now imprisoned in Castle Black's dungeon. Half the clan chiefs who had negotiated with Daenerys that day had already been killed.
"King Stannis plans to sacrifice Mance to the Lord of Light tonight. He won't let him out," Godry said with a cold sneer.
"You're just a soldier. Your job is to pass along the message," Daenerys waved him off casually. "Go on. Tell your king—either he sends out Mance Rayder, or I'll have my giants break him out."
"I was knighted by the king himself, not some mere foot soldier," Godry snapped, his cleft chin trembling with rage.
"In front of a queen, you're just a foot soldier."
Godry nearly coughed up blood in frustration. Clenching his teeth, he said, "You swore not to incite internal conflict among the Seven Kingdoms on the Wall. If you seize our prisoner, you'll break your sacred oath."
"Oh? So you even know that? Then I suppose you're also well aware I'm currently negotiating with the wildlings."
"I—I just heard it from the Night's Watch. We didn't know before," Godry replied with a guilty look in his eyes.
"I'll relay the message, but the king might not agree," he added, then turned and ran toward the command tower opposite the royal quarters. The other knights quickly dispersed and left the courtyard.
"I didn't expect such deep infighting among southern kings. The king with the burning heart fears you gaining the Free Folk's power, so he attacks our camp knowing a pact was about to be signed, just to ruin their trust in you," Val said, a mocking glint in her pale gray eyes.
"Yes. You can scorn Westeros all you want. We're trapped in civil war. The Seven Kingdoms are riddled with strife. The old king on the Iron Throne is a drunk and a womanizer. The new king is just a child. The real powers are obsessed with their 'game of thrones.' The people are impoverished and the realm in shambles."
Just as the voluptuous wildling girl lifted her head with a graceful, victorious smile, Daenerys changed the subject: "Yet in this kingdom that's fallen to such depths, all it took was a disgraced lord cast out of power, leading just over a thousand men, to break through a camp of a hundred thousand wildlings and capture their king."
"What are you so proud of? In this rotten age, no matter how much the southern nobles screw things up, they'll never be worse than you wildlings."
Val pressed her lips together, her face pale. The baby on the stretcher began to cry softly again.
Though Jon inwardly agreed with the queen's words, he also felt sympathy for Val's humiliation and discomfort. He pulled over the plump man who had been gawking blankly at the dragons and introduced him to Daenerys: "Your Grace, this is Samwell Tarly, steward of Castle Black. He's seen the Others—he even killed one. Not a wight, a White Walker!"
Sam had a round face as large as a dinner plate, like a lump of rising dough, with timid gray eyes.
"Y-Your Grace, your dragons are magnificent. I've wanted to see one since I was a child. I never expected them to appear before me today," Sam stammered.
"I've seen your father and brother," Daenerys looked at the man who resembled an overstuffed sausage, and said with amusement, "Your brother Dickon is a brave knight. He shone brilliantly at the tourney on the Honeywine in Oldtown not long ago."
"Dickon…" Sam's gray eyes suddenly welled with tears. "He's always been so strong and skilled. I haven't seen him in years."
"He's married now—to a noblewoman of House Mooton from Maidenpool. I also saw your father in King's Landing. Old Lord Tarly was all bluster, leading a thousand armored men to storm the Great Sept of Baelor," Daenerys continued.
"Ah—" everyone gasped in shock.
"Relax. He didn't succeed. The High Septon compromised."
Daenerys then recounted the sordid affairs between Margaery and Cersei.
"I didn't think King's Landing was in such chaos," Jon murmured.
"If they don't see a White Walker with their own eyes, things will only get worse," Daenerys sighed, then turned to Sam. "With your size, you couldn't have climbed the Wall. How did you cross it?"
Sam had gone beyond the Wall with Lord Mormont. To return to Castle Black, he would have had to come through the gate from the north. But somehow, the fat man had come from the south side.
"I—I can't say," Sam turned red, his voice trembling.
"Not even to me?"
"No, I can't."
"If you don't talk, I'll feed you to the dragons," Daenerys said, face stern, voice cold.
"Raaaagh—" Drogon immediately rose, stretched his neck, and brought his head close to Sam. Sparks from his nostrils landed in Sam's hair, singeing it with wisps of scorched smoke.
"Ahhh—" Sam collapsed onto the muddy ground, bawling uncontrollably.
Moments later, a warm, sour smell of urine wafted from his trousers. Disgusted, Drogon glanced at him and withdrew his head.
"Will you talk now?" Daenerys asked again.
"Don't let the dragon eat me! I—I won't talk!" The fat man cried out as he lay on the ground.
"Waa waa waa!" The baby in the wildling woman Gilly's arms started crying as well.
With fear in her eyes and a trembling voice, Gilly pleaded with Dany, "I'll tell you—at Long Night Fort, there's a tunnel in the well that leads outside the castle. Please don't let the dragon eat Sam. Please..."
"Damn it," Dany cursed and scolded the fat man, "Are you stupid? How could you hide something like that? If we don't block the tunnel immediately and the wildlings find it, the North will fall in no time.
And what about the White Walkers? If they see the wildlings heading to Long Night Fort, do you think they won't follow?"
"Boohoo... I couldn't say... Gilly, you shouldn't have said it either," Sam bawled, tears and snot covering his face—utterly pitiful.
"Sam, Her Grace is right. If there really is a passage, it must be sealed immediately," Jon said, squatting down and placing a hand on Sam's shoulder.
Sam clutched Jon's sleeve tightly, a pleading look on his face. "No, Jon, you don't understand. That place—only the Night's Watch can get through it. Outsiders can't know about it."
Jon glanced nervously at Dany's grim expression and said awkwardly, "Her Grace doesn't count as an outsider."
Suddenly, 'Dumb Ox' Grenn leaned in and quietly reminded her, "Your Grace, the King Beyond the Wall is here."
Melisandre approached like a noblewoman, hands clasped before her stomach, her red robe fluttering, walking lightly and gracefully, full of mystique and charm.
The muddy courtyard beneath her feet suddenly felt like the floor of a palace ballroom.
Behind the Red Woman were Ser Gaudy and two guards bearing the flaming red heart sigil on their chests. Mance Rayder's brown hair was unkempt, his coat of stitched weasel fur stained with blood—though it was unclear whether it was his or the enemy's.
"He has the blood of kings," the Red Woman said as she approached the stretcher, reaching out to touch the baby's cheek.
Smack! Val charged forward, slapping away the priestess's delicate hand and shielding her sister. "The witch must not touch my sister's child!" she cried.
Melisandre turned her head and calmly smiled as her gaze swept across Jon, Dany, and Sam, finally resting on Mance. "It would've been better had we never met. Even if King Stannis forgives you for leading the wildlings south, the Night's Watch won't forgive an oathbreaker."
Yes, Mance Rayder had once sworn the oath before a heart tree.
In the first episode of Game of Thrones, Eddard Stark beheaded a ragged man with his greatsword Ice.
That man had deserted the Night's Watch.
Anyone who breaks their oath and flees the Wall—no matter who they are or what their reason—meets only one end: execution.
The night news came of Eddard's death in King's Landing, Jon had ridden out alone. If Grenn, Sam, and the others hadn't dragged him back, Lord Mormont would've chopped off his head.
In fact, the Old Bear had anticipated Jon might run and had already stationed men to wait for him.
Even though he saw Jon as a successor from the beginning, he still had his blade ready—waiting for Jon's final choice.
Mance smiled at the Red Woman, then walked directly to the stretcher. He gently kissed his wife's pale cheek before carefully lifting the baby wrapped in sheepskin, sighing. "Dragon Queen, Dalla and my son—surely they're not Stannis's prisoners?"
"Fine. I'll arrange for them to be registered as 'Southern Wildlings,'" Dany agreed with a nod.
Then she asked, "What's the baby's name? You can give him one."
Mance stroked the baby's wrinkled cheek and replied, "No name yet. Among the Free Folk, children aren't named until they're three."
Jon chuckled. "Everyone's been calling him 'Wildling Prince' or 'Born of Battle.'"
"Born of Battle," Dany muttered, the corner of her mouth twitching. She couldn't help thinking of her own title—"Stormborn." These foreigners were a bit too casual with names.
"No," Mance shook his head. "The Free Folk have a King Beyond the Wall, but never a prince. Our kings are chosen, not inherited."
"The wind's too strong out here. Let's move Dalla inside," he added.
Jon and Sam led Gilly, Val, and the others to the Long Spear Tower, specially designated to house wildlings. It was the tallest tower in Castle Black, over 70 meters high with 20 stories. The giants captured by Dany were also kept there.
Gaudy and the two soldiers escorting Mance followed them. Melisandre, however, remained behind.
"Daenerys, may we speak alone?" she asked.
Dany hesitated only briefly, then nodded.
The wooden doors of the King's Tower's first-floor hall were open. The two women sat by the fireplace, able to see the bustle outside.
"Daenerys," Melisandre began, her rosy cheeks tinged with confusion, "when I first heard that you had hatched dragons, I doubted it.
Azor Ahai will be reborn amidst smoke and salt, and will awaken the magic dragons from stone."
"Your rise fulfilled part of the prophecy. At the time, Stannis and I both felt uncertain and sorrowful. So, we held a sacrificial ceremony, hoping the Lord of Light would guide us through our doubts.
That night, we saw a vision in the flames—Stannis, holding Lightbringer, with your silhouette faintly appearing beside him."
"Do you know what that means?"
"Stannis is the true prophesied one. And you..." Melisandre looked at Dany's impassive face, biting her full lower lip, "You might be his lover."
"F*** squid!" Dany cursed through gritted teeth.
(End of chapter)
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