𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐁𝐎𝐘

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴᴛᴇᴇɴ

❆ ❆ ❆

Torsten's mare whickered softly as he tightened the cinch. "Easy." He said in a soft voice, quieting her with a touch. Wind whispered through the stable, a cold dead breath on his face, but Torsten paid it no mind. All he could think about was the other bastard out in front of him.

"Ghost." He heard Jon call. "To me." And the wolf was there, eyes like embers.

"Jon please." And then he heard Samwell. "You must not do this." Torsten mounted, the reins in his hand, and wheeled the horse around to face Samwell and Jon. Samwell Tarly stood in the middle of the yard, a full moon peering over his shoulder. Jon sat atop his horse in front of him.

"Get out of my way, Sam." Jon looked down on the boy.

"Jon, you can't." Samwell said. "I won't let you." Torsten could hear them clearly from the stables.

"I would sooner not hurt you." Jon told him. "Move aside, Sam, or I'll ride you down."

"You won't. You have to listen to me. Please..." Jon hadn't given Samwell the chance to finish. Jon put his spurs to horseflesh, and the mare bolted for the tunnel. For an instant, Samwell stood his ground, his face as round and pale as the moon behind him, his mouth a widening O of surprise. For a moment Torsten thought Jon would hit him. At the last moment, when they were almost on him, Samwell jumped aside as Jon had darted through. Samwell stumbled and fell. The mare leapt over him, out into the night.
Torsten raised the hood of his heavy cloak and gave the horse her head and quickly followed after the bastard boy. His horse leapt over Samwell Tarly, causing yet another yelp to ring from him.

"Torsten! You can't!" Samwell called. But it was too late. Castle Black was silent and still as he rode after Jon. Men watched from the Wall behind him, as he knew they would, but their eyes were turned north, not south. No one would see them go, no one but Samwell Tarly, struggling back to his feet in the snow of the courtyard. He was so heavy and so ungainly, it would be just like him to break a wrist or twist his ankle from the fall.
Torsten flexed his burned hand as he rode, opening and closing the scarred fingers. It wasn't had to track Jon he'd just have to follow the horse and wolf's prints that decorated the snow, which was leading him through the haunted forest.
Moonlight silvered the hills as he followed the twisting ribbon of the kingsroad. Torsten knew Jon's plan was to get as far from the Wall as he could before they realized he was gone. The Old Bear was accustomed to rise at first light, so Torsten had until dawn to get him back to the Wall, as the Old Bear had asked of him.

Pain throbbed, deep in his fingers, as he clutched the reins. Torsten put his heels into his horse and broke into a gallop, racing down the kingsroad. He could see Jon, Ghost kept pace with them for almost half a mile, red tongue lolling from his mouth. The wolf slowed, stopping, watching, his eyes glowing red in the moonlight. He vanished behind, but Torsten knew he'd been spotted by the animal.
Scattered lights flickered through the trees ahead of him, on both sides of the roads, Moles Town. A dog barked as they road through, and he heard a mule's raucous haw from the stables, but otherwise the village was still. Here and there the glow of hearth 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, he'd heard men call the whores, buried treasure. He wondered whether any of his brothers in black were down there tonight, mining. That was oathbreaking too, yet none seemed to care.
Not until they were well beyond the village did Jon slow again and Torsten followed suit, silently keeping his distance. Both Torsten and his mare were damp with sweat and he had no doubt Jon was too.
Off behind him, in the trees, the distant scream of some frightened animal made both the bastard boys look up. Torsten's mare whinnied nervously. Had Ghost found some prey? "Torsten?" Jon called and the boy stilled. "Is that you?" Torsten could see Jon's eyes squinting towards him through the darkness.