THE NORTH BEYOND | JON SNOW

CHAPTER NINE.

Craster's Keep looked more intimidating at night. The dark shadows danced ominously against the animal bones that Craster displayed proudly at every entrance point. No doubt that it was meant to look sinister, but the bones had a childish air about them, as though it was all Craster could do to warn off intruders. Well, fuck me if some pig bones make me turn back. Someone should tell him what those bones attract, I thought bitterly, then he wouldn't cast them about like dolls.

I pointed over at the hall where Craster and his wives sleep, two flaps of deerskin blocked the entrance. "That's where he'll be, sleeping with the wives." I told her, and she followed my hand to where I was pointing.

"I don't understand," she had one hand trained on the bow she had convinced me to let her bring, apparently she would rather carve out her heart with her own arrow than and these are her exact words, let that daughter fucking dog put his wrinkled hooves anywhere near her cunt. I was going to tell her that hooves wasn't the word she wanted but something in her expression made me stop, how was I meant to argue with that logic, "why are we fucking about instead of just going in there?"

I kept my eyes looking around, wondering where Helga might be and then realised that she would most likely be in the sleeping loft. With Craster. Only the older ones and the ones who weren't broken in yet slept in the tent he constructed with me. And those old hags would sooner rather beat me to death than help me out. No, I thought, it had to be Helga. It was only a while later that I realised that I hadn't answered Red's question.

I turned to face her and breathed in, wincing slightly at the thought of her reaction to my news. "Because...let's just say that he wouldn't give me a horn of ale if he saw me now."

And just as she opened her mouth to question me or scorn me - I couldn't quite tell which one it was that she planned, she looked past me, and froze.

Then, quiet enough that I just about heard it, she said, "don't move, just keep still," her eyes stayed locked to whatever it was behind me.

I tensed immediately and made me head turn ever so slightly. I needn't had to. I know what it was that made Red so afraid and I cursed to myself quietly for forgetting the wretched creatures.

Craster's Keep was home to hell's very own hounds, it was one of his main defences of the forsaken place, seeing as all of the women there couldn't hold a weapon let alone defend their home. Most of them wouldn't want to, they already think Craster is the devil sent from the Gods. These dogs were charged with the defence of the Keep and everyone inside it from any wandering wildlings that wanted to get lucky. One time, a pig of Craster's escaped the pen when the dogs were prowling in the night and the beasts ripped that pig apart, cock to nose, and scattered the remains around the Keep like decoration. I fancy that that was where Craster got the idea for his own decoration from. It takes a certain amount of crazy shit to get to where these dogs are now, starved just enough to make any sort of flesh desirable and abused in ways unimaginable until they froth at the mouth at just about any living creature that wasn't Craster. Loyal fucks as well, would destroy anyone but the man who made them like that.

My first night here, one of them found themselves wandering too close to the tent I slept and Night had shown it that it wasn't the only blood-driven animal around, it left slumping to lick its wounds. The dog made sure to keep a wide berth from my tent after then and barked viciously every time her pack was in the area. If only Night were here now, I had left the whole pack behind in case the animals that Craster had started making noises from smelling the wolves. I had forgotten all about his hell hounds.

Red's hands reached back slowly to grasp one of her bows, I watched the action with wide eyes and shook my head quickly. I whispered quietly, "how many?"