Chapter 151: King-Beyond-the-Wall

Under the gaze of an eagle, the Northern Army advanced toward the Fist of the First Men beneath the gray-blue sky of the north, leaving Craster's Keep behind them.

In a Wildling camp on the upper reaches of the Milkwater, Mance Rayder, the King-Beyond-the-Wall, plucked at his harp; he had long legs, thick arms, and gray hair, and had already entered middle age.

Beside him, Mance Rayder's wife, Dalla, was mending clothes; she had long brown hair reaching her waist, wore a fur coat, and was plump and beautiful; she was already six months pregnant.

Beside her was Dalla's sister, Val, who had long honey-colored hair and a slender figure, with gray eyes like a winter sea; she wore a white wool coat, and beside her was her lover, the young raider Jarl; Jarl had a thick black beard and delicate features; though young, he had already scaled the Wall many times and was a rising star among the Wildling raiders.

Tormund wore a bear-skin coat, and his thick arms were covered in solid gold bands engraved with ancient runes. Tormund was one of the most famous raiders among the Wildlings beyond the Wall, and he had many thunderous titles, such as Husband to Bears, Thunderfist, Horn-blower, Breaker of Ice, and Tormund Giantsbane.

There were even terrifying nicknames like "Father of Life" and "Speaker for the Gods"; many could not figure out why Tormund had so many mighty and imposing titles, perhaps his last nickname, "Tall-talker," could explain it.

Tormund was gnawing on a lamb leg, his hands covered in grease.

Beside him, the skinchanger Orell was rolling his eyes back, staring hollowly at the top of the tent; it was Orell who was controlling the eagle hundreds of leagues away, observing the movements of the Northern Army near Craster's Keep.

Orell exuded the smell of bird droppings, and he wore black leather armor and a cloak of black-and-white feathers, woven from the feathers of hundreds of birds; he had a hooked nose, and his face looked exactly like an eagle's.

Mance Rayder plucked a sorrowful note, and the whites of Orell's eyes returned to normal; his soul returned from the distant Craster's Keep to the tent of the King-Beyond-the-Wall.

"Orell, what did you see?" Mance Rayder put down his harp.

"I saw that Craster was captured, and his wives were also taken by the soldiers of the North."

Tormund gave a light snort, "Craster prided himself on being a friend to the Rangers; look at how the Night's Watch and the Northmen treat him; no need to guess, the Winterfell soldiers and the Night's Watch will ravage his wives and daughters, and that old stubborn Craster is doomed to lose his head."

Val frowned, "Doesn't Craster often boast that those who revere the gods will be protected by them? It seems the Great Other has no power either."

"Hush!" Mance Rayder was clearly startled, "Don't talk nonsense; if that god had no power, how do you explain those blue-eyed dead men walking in the wilderness? Val, you must be careful; in any place, one must be cautious about evil gods and never speak their names."

Val made a face, and Dalla said worriedly: "The joint army of the North and the Night's Watch is attacking the Frostfangs and the Fist of the First Men, and the army of Others and wights is still marching south from the Land of Always Winter; what should the Free Folk do?"

Mance Rayder stood up and checked the fur map hanging in the tent.

"Dalla, you need not worry; in the Frostfangs, Alfyn Crowkiller and The Weeper will deal with our old adversary, Qhorin Halfhand."

Jarl said disdainfully: "Can The Weeper and Alfyn Crowkiller handle the Halfhand? In the past, when the Halfhand led a party of Rangers, which Wildling raider chieftain dared to provoke him? Furthermore, the Halfhand now has hundreds of cavalry and thousands of mountain clansmen; the mountain clans are most skilled at mountain warfare."

"You forgot the most critical point: the mountain clans do not understand the terrain of the Frostfangs." Mance Rayder smiled, "Qhorin Halfhand is familiar with the Frostfangs, but cavalry cannot gallop freely there; he must rely on the infantry of the mountain clans. As long as we hold the mountain pass of the Frostfangs, Qhorin Halfhand will have to retreat, otherwise their army will starve to death in the valleys."

Tormund raised an eyebrow, "If this trick could succeed, he wouldn't be the Halfhand. You expect The Weeper and Alfyn Crowkiller to hold the valley? I think these two are no match for Qhorin Halfhand at all. Heh! You had better prepare for a funeral!"

Mance Rayder placed his hand near the Giant's Stair in the Frostfangs, "Relying on the Free Folk, it is very difficult to stop the Halfhand and his army, but if the giants hold the Giant's Stair, Qhorin Halfhand will have no way."

Val, Dalla, Jarl, and Orell all revealed smiles, and Tormund smiled, "So you had invited the giants all along."

Mance Rayder nodded, "The King of the Giants, the strong Mag, will lead the giants to personally hold the Giant's Stair; if the Halfhand tries to split his forces to bypass the Giant's Stair, the cave dwellers will make them suffer heavy casualties; many caves in the Frostfangs are connected to each other, and many cave dwellers have lived here for generations. The skinchanger Thistle will use her shadowcat to constantly hunt down enemies on the mountains and spread fear."

Orell leaned in, "What about the enemies in the Haunted Forest? I saw through the eagle that the one leading the way is Davon Wood-tooth; this old man is familiar with everything in the Haunted Forest; the commander sent by Winterfell is Eddard's Captain of the Guard, who is also the Captain of the Winterfell guard, what was his name again?"

"Jory Cassel." Mance Rayder had been preparing for the war between the Wildlings and the North for a long time; he had gone to learn about the great and small lords of the North many years ago.

"Jory Cassel is the Captain of the Guard at Winterfell; this man is the nephew of the Winterfell master-at-arms Rodrik Cassel; his swordsmanship is good, and he is loyal to House Stark of Winterfell; however, a guard is not a soldier; no matter how excellent a captain of the guard is, letting him command a field march will be a big problem, not to mention that Jory Cassel is not familiar with the Haunted Forest."

Orell said disdainfully: "Mance, that old immortal Davon Wood-tooth knows the Haunted Forest best; I saw through the eagle that Jory Cassel has hundreds of cavalry under his command, and quite a few Skagosi Rockborn infantry; the number of Rockborn infantry is estimated to be over a thousand."

Mance Rayder's hand slid across the Haunted Forest on the map, "You said it yourself, those are Rockborn soldiers; the clan leaders of the Rockborn are Billy Stern of Driftwood Hall and Resson Magnar of King's Hall; they are not familiar with the Winterfell cavalry, and coordination will be a big problem."

"I have already arranged for the Flayed Man Davin and 'White Mask' Morona to ambush in the Haunted Forest, and the skinchanger Borroq will bring his brutal boars to show Jory Cassel and the Rockborn some trouble."

Many Wildlings would be afraid when they heard the name of the skinchanger Borroq; he controlled a boar, a behemoth taller than any warhorse, which could easily disembowel enemies.

Dalla said softly: "Even if the cave dwellers and giants at the Giant's Stair block Qhorin Halfhand and the mountain clans, and Morona, Davin, and Borroq defeat Jory Cassel and the Rockborn in the Haunted Forest, what should we do about the main force led by the Duke of Winterfell, Eddard, and the Old Bear?"

Orell echoed: "Yes, this force has several thousand men, and they are marching toward the Fist of the First Men. The vanguard is led by a guy whose sigil is an archer, with red hair; who is this guy?"

"This idiot almost shot my eagle several times."

Mance Rayder looked worried, "This is the new pet sharpshooter of Duke Eddard, Fellan; I have heard of this Fellan from the messenger of the Rock King; he is a devilishly deadly sharpshooter; last year on Skagos, countless Rockborn warriors died under Fellan's arrows."

Tormund beat his chest with his thick arms, "The scouts of the Wildling army in the Milkwater area are led by Dog-head Harma; you expect Harma to beat the sharpshooter Fellan? I reckon that ugly head of Harma's will be chopped off before long and stuck next to her dog's head."

"Send me instead! Mance, give me three hundred cavalry, and I can kill this Fellan. Among the Free Folk I know, there is a spearwife named Ygritte who is also a sharpshooter; send Ygritte to shoot Fellan."

Mance Rayder shook his head, "Ygritte will find it hard to defeat Fellan; the Free Folk cavalry has no advantage whether facing Northern cavalry or Night's Watch Rangers; sending you might not work either. This Fellan is a huge hidden danger."

The King-Beyond-the-Wall turned to Orell, "Which Ranger did the Night's Watch send to serve as the guide for Fellan's scouts?"

Orell thought for a moment, "Jeremy Lake."

The gloom on Mance Rayder's face was swept away, "This is a mistake made by the Old Bear and Eddard; Jeremy Lake is nothing but a decorative pillow; if it were Benjen, Jarmen Buckwell, or Ser Mallador Locke, it would be much harder to deal with."

"I want to lure the enemy deep along the Milkwater and destroy Fellan's scout cavalry unit. Dog-head Harma, Tormund Giantsbane, and the King of the Bones will take turns attacking, and with the cooperation of Orell's eagle, Varamyr Sixskins' bear, and Tigris's saber-toothed tiger, even if Fellan grows wings, he won't be able to escape my grasp."

Val said disdainfully: "Killing one Fellan won't stop the Northern Army from advancing. The Free Folk have been digging graves in the Frostfangs; the Thenns, the Hardfoot, the cave dwellers, the Night Runners... they have all been digging graves, and many complain that they will dig up the Others."

"Mance, is the legendary Horn of Winter really in the graves?"

Mance Rayder smiled, "Once we search through the graves of the Frostfangs, we will surely find the Horn of Winter; the horn can make the Wall collapse."

Dalla was startled, "You really intend to destroy the Wall? That is the hope of humanity to resist the Others!"

"I will use the Horn of Winter to negotiate." Mance Rayder said sorrowfully, "I will not use the Horn of Winter lightly, unless it is a last resort."

Many of the villages the Northern Army passed through were already empty, but in some villages, there were still some old people, children, and women left; Eddard ordered the soldiers to escort them all to Castle Black, to be sent to the Gift for resettlement.

These Wildlings would curse and utter vicious maledictions, yet in the end, they would accept their fate. The Wildlings were a people of winter, and there were constant disputes between their settlements; it was common for the weak to become servants of the strong, and these Wildlings all had the courage to accept their fate.

The scouts led by Fellan and Jeremy Lake killed every Wildling who tried to resist; the scouts cleared the way in front, and the Northern Army was hardly harassed at all.

Ser Mallador Locke and Smalljon Umber were responsible for the supply train, which traveled at the rear of the army, and Derron Dustin of Barrowton commanded a troop of cavalry responsible for the rearguard.

The Northern Army marched north along the road in the Haunted Forest; Eddard, riding on his black warhorse, saw the mountains suddenly rising on the northern land, appearing like a fist beneath the gray-blue sky of the north.

To the west of the Fist of the First Men was the Milkwater; to the east, south, and north was an endless forest; to the west of the Milkwater were the ice-covered Frostfangs.

Eddard, the Old Bear, Greatjon, Benjen, Rickard Karstark, and others handed their horses to their attendants and walked up the mountain; the summit was the ruins of the First Men Ring Fort. The west and north sides of this mountain were very steep, and only the eastern slope was relatively gentle, making it easy to defend and hard to attack.

Having controlled this place, the joint army of the North and the Night's Watch could easily attack the Antler River and the Haunted Forest to the east, attack the Wildling tribes in the Frostfangs to the west, or sweep through the Wildling settlements along the Milkwater to the north.

The Northern soldiers and Night's Watch brothers began to set up tents within the abandoned walls of the Ring Fort; the soldiers transported barrels of ale, bags of black bread, crackers, berries, apples, and other food into the abandoned houses of the Ring Fort.

Some stewards used wood to make deer antlers to block the entrance at the top of the mountain, and the Night's Watch brothers tied their hounds in the woods outside the camp, while the direwolves Sunshine and Night-runner roamed around.

Eddard stood on the summit, gazing at the wilderness beyond the Wall, with an eagle circling in the sky.

Fellan, in a suit of red plate armor with his cloak covered in mud, walked up to Eddard, "Lord Eddard, my scouts killed some of Dog-head Harma's Wildling scouts, and Dog-head Harma fled to the north. My scouts interrogated some Wildlings, and some confessed that Mance Rayder had assembled a Wildling army of tens of thousands on the upper reaches of the Milkwater."

Eddard patted Fellan on the shoulder, "Good work. Fellan, our army has successfully arrived at the Fist of the First Men; leave the scouting to the Night's Watch Rangers, and you stay at the Fist of the First Men."

"Lord Eddard, the King-Beyond-the-Wall is not dead, how can I rest?" Fellan shook his head stubbornly, "The Wildlings' cavalry is no match for the Northern Army's cavalry at all. Perhaps I could take the scouts, charge into Mance Rayder's tent, and cut off his head; that would end this war."

"Do not be greedy for glory or advance rashly," Eddard cautioned, "Do not forget, your wife Barbrey is still waiting for you at Barrow Hall!" If Fellan were to die in battle and Barbrey were to become a widow once again, not only would the marriage that Eddard had worked so hard to facilitate be in vain, but it would also invite Barbrey's hatred; by then, the resistance to the reforms Eddard was pushing in the North would be even greater.

Fellan turned and left.

The Old Bear looked toward the north, "The Wildling army is truly too massive, but fortunately they are a motley crew, and our soldiers are more elite. We are stationed at the Fist of the First Men; Mance Rayder must have already received the news. Regardless of which fortress on the Wall he intends to attack, the Wildling army must pass by the Fist of the First Men as they head south along the Milkwater."

"Even if the Wildling armies from the Frostfangs and the Haunted Forest attack the Wall, we can strike them from the rear. Lord Eddard, by occupying this place, we have secured the advantage of terrain."

Thoren Smallwood, dressed in black clothes and a black breastplate, said disdainfully, "Lord Mormont, the Wildlings of the Frostfangs are no match for Qhorin Halfhand at all. As for that Wildling scum in the Haunted Forest, they will surely be routed before Winterfell, the Night's Watch, and the Rockborn. They will certainly flee north, wailing and howling; what could they possibly use to threaten the Wall?"

After several days of contact, Eddard did not like Thoren Smallwood at all. This experienced Ranger had always despised the Wildlings, and Eddard said, "Thoren, I believe that in marching and fighting, one must take every enemy seriously. Pride and complacency may lead to a fate of failure."

Thoren Smallwood shrugged, "Lord Eddard, you do not understand the Wildlings. In all the years I have served as a Ranger, I have often dealt with Wildlings. The Wildlings have killed many of my brothers, and I have killed many Wildlings. Wildlings are born liars, cowards, and thieves who only know how to sneak over the Wall to abduct women and children. Facing well-trained Night's Watch brothers and the Northern Army, they will only run away."

"Lord Eddard, I have never agreed with your policy of taking prisoners. What use are Wildling prisoners? One must never be soft-hearted when dealing with such enemies. We should use their heads to decorate the Haunted Forest, use the blood of the Wildlings to dye the Frostfangs red, and let the Milkwater basin be piled high with the swollen, frozen corpses of Wildlings."

"Only in this way will they understand that enemies who infringe upon the interests of the Seven Kingdoms, no matter how far away they are, will surely meet their doom."

(End of chapter)