𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐁𝐎𝐘

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ

𝟚

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A half dozen black puppies and the odd pig or two skulked among the benches, while women in ragged deerskins passed horns of beer, stirred the fire, and chopped carrots and onions into a kettle. Lord Commander Mormont had sat himself on the common bench, with his raven muttering on his shoulder. "I've not seen Benjen Stark for three years." He was telling Mormont. "And if truth be told, I never once missed him. Always treated me like scum." Torsten stilled at the man's words.

"He 'ought to have passed here last year." Said Thoren Smallwood. A dog came sniffing round his leg. He kicked it and sent it off yipping.

"Ben was searching for Ser Waymar Royce, who'd vanished with Gared and young Will." Craster's head bobbed at the Lord Commander's words.

"Aye, those three I recall. The lordlings no older than one of these pups. Too proud to sleep under my roof, him in his sable cloak and black steel. My wives give him big cow eyes all the same." He turned his squint on the nearest of the women. "Gared says they were chasing raiders. I told him, with a commander that green, best not catch 'em. Gared wasn't half bad, for a crow. Had less ears than me, that one. The bite took 'em, same as mine." Craster laughed. "Now I hear he got no head neither." Torsten remembered hearing about it from his brother's. The man was a deserter, he'd been taken to Ned Stark to be executed. Torsten wondered if Jon had witnessed it.

"When Ser Waymar left you, where was he bound?" Lord Mormont asked. Craster gave a shrug.

"Happens I have better things to do than tend to the comings and goings of crows." He drank a pull of beer and set the cup aside. "Had no good southron wine up here for a bear's night. I could use me some wine, and a new axe. Mine's lost its bite, can't have that, I got me women to protect." Craster gazed around at his scurrying wives.

"You are few here, and isolated." Mormont said. "If you like, I'll detail some men to escort you south to the Wall." The raven seemed to like that notion, it screamed, spreading black wings like a high collar behind Mormont's head. Their host gave a nasty smile, showing a mouth full of broken brown teeth.

"And what would we do there, serve you at supper? We're free folk here. Craster serves no man." He told Mormont. Torsten couldn't help his eyes from rolling into the back of his head at the man's words.

"These are bad times to dwell alone in the wild. The cold winds are rising." Lord Commander informed, Craster only laughed.

"Let them rise. My roots are sunk deep." Craster grabbed a passing woman by the waist. "Tell him, wife. Tell the Lord Crow how well content you are." The women looked terrified to go against him. She licked her thin lips.

"This is our place. Craster keeps us safe. Better to die free than live a slave." Torsten shook his head, he couldn't believe the crap coming from the girl's mouth.

"Don't it make you jealous, old man, to see me with all these young wives, and you with no one to warm your bed?" Torsten felt bile building up in his throat. The raven muttered and Mormont leaned forward.

"We chose different paths." Mormont said.

"Oh aye, and you chose the path with no one but boys on it." Craster wheezed at his own words. Mormont licked at thin lips.

"Every village we have passed has been abandoned. Yours are the first living faces we've seen since we left the Wall. The people are gone... whether dead, fled, or taken. I could not say. The animals as well. Nothing is left. And earlier, we found the bodies of two of Ben Stark's rangers only a few leagues from the Wall. They were pale and cold, with black hands and black feet, wounds that did not bleed. Yet when we took them back to Castle Black they rose in the night and killed." The Lord Commander said. The woman's mouth hung open, a wet pink cave, but Craster only gave a snort.

"We've had no such troubles here... and I'll thank you not to tell such evil tales under my roof. I'm a godly man, and the gods keep me safe. If Wights come walking, I'll know how to send them back to their graves. Though I could use me a sharp new axe." He sent his wife scurrying with a slap on her ass and a shout. "More beer, and be quick about it."

"No trouble from the dead." Jarmen Buckwell said. "But what of the living, my lord? What of your king?" Mormont's raven cried while the Old Bear pulled his cloak closer to his body for warmth.

"I could tell ya' but I'm thirsty." A smirk pulled at the edges of Craster's cracked lips, he leaned forward to spit in the fire.

"There's a barrel on the sledge, bring it here." Mormont commanded. Torsten watched as one of the men rose and quickly fled through the deerskin flaps.

"What do free folk want with kings?" Craster turned his squint on Mormont. "There's much I could tell you o' Rayder and his doings, if I had a mind. This o' the empty villages, that's his work. They've gone north to join up with Mance Rayder, your old friend." Craster wheezed.

"He'd no friend of mine." Mormont's calm manner surprised Torsten, he'd never seen the Old Bear like this. "He broke his vows, betrayed his brothers." The hint of hurt passed over everyone but Torsten.

"Oh, aye. But once he was just a poor black crow. And now he's king beyond the Wall. You would have found this hall abandoned as well, if I were a man scrape to such. He sends a rider, tells me I must leave my own keep to come grovel at his feet. I sent the man back, but kept his tongue. It's nailed to that wall there." Craster pointed. "Might be that I could tell you where to seek Mance Rayder. If I had a mind." The brown smile again. "But we'll have time enough for that. You'll be wanting to sleep beneath my roof, belike, and eat me out of pigs."

"A roof would be most welcome, my lord." Mormont said. "We've had hard riding, and too much wet."

"Then you'll guest here for a night. No longer, I'm not that found o' crows. The loft's for me and mine, but you'll have all the floor you like. I've meat and beer for twenty, no more. The rest o' your black crows can peck after their own corn." Craster grumbled.

"We've packed in our own supplies, my lord." Said the Old Bear. "We should be pleased to share our food and wine." Craster wiped his drooping mouth with the back of a hairy hand.

"One more thing. Any man lays a hand on my wives, he loses the hand." Craster cracked at rotten teeth.

"Your roof, your rules." Said Thoren Smallwood, Lord Mormont nodded stiffly and beckoned Jon and Torsten towards him as they all stood.

"Send Samwell here after he's eaten. Have him bring quill and parchment. And find Tollett as well. Tell him to bring my axe. A guest gift for our host." Mormont ordered.

"Who's these two?" Craster asked before the two boys could go. "This one has the look of a Stark."

"My two steward and squire. Jon Snow and Torsten Snow." Torsten and Jon stood stiffly waiting to be let go.

"Bastards, is it." Craster looked Jon up and down, ignoring Torsten. "Man wants to bed a women, seems like he 'ought to take her wife. That's what I do." He shooed the two boys off with a wave. "Well, run and do your service, bastards, and see that axe is good and sharp now, I've no use for dull steel." Torsten bowed stiffly and took his leave with Jon hot on his heels. Ser Ottyn Wythers was coming in as Torsten was leaving, and they almost collided at the deer hide door.

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