Chapter 152: Fist of the First Men

The tents of the Northern Army and the Night's Watch coalition emerged on the summit of the Fist of the First Men like mushrooms after a heavy rain.

Relying on the ruins of the First Men Ring Fort, the Northern Army established a sturdy camp, looking down from a height, with the scenery for several leagues around the Fist of the First Men in full view.

Provisions were transported to the summit one after another, and soldiers dug trenches, set up caltrops and obstacles, and built stables and latrines.

Robb leaned toward Eddard, "Father, the Northern Army will surely win a key victory against the Wildlings at the Fist of the First Men, because this is the Fist of the First Men, and the North is the descendant of the First Men; therefore, victory will surely belong to the North, belong to Winterfell!"

Eddard shook his head gently, "Robb, I fear you have forgotten the most critical point: the Wildlings are also descendants of the First Men."

Domeric, who was familiar with history, leaned in, "In the Seven Kingdoms, when people speak of the descendants of the First Men, they usually refer to the Northmen north of the Neck. However, this statement is not accurate. According to historical records, the Wildlings, the Mountain Clans of the Vale of Arryn, the Rockborn of Skagos, and the Wildlings Beyond the Wall are all descendants of the First Men, and all worship the Weirwood Heart Tree and the Old Gods."

Robb suddenly became agitated, and he gripped Eddard's wrist, "Father, please let me lead troops into battle! I yearn to prove myself through combat. I want to join Fellan's scouts."

Scouts were responsible for reconnaissance and were also the most dangerous branch of the service. Robb had always regretted that he had failed to participate in the Rock-born War last year, while his brothers Jon and Domeric had both won glory in the Rock-born War, and he longed to prove himself in this war.

Eddard stroked Robb's auburn hair, which came from his mother Catelyn's Tully bloodline, "Robb, you are destined to be made for war, but you are the Heir of Winterfell, and I will not send you to risk your life on the battlefield."

Robb was somewhat confused, "But didn't I train hard in the training yard every day just to go to the battlefield and kill the enemy? Even Ser Roderick said that I am qualified to go to the battlefield and kill the enemy."

Eddard said calmly, "To win a war, relying on the courage of a common soldier is far from enough; you need to demonstrate the vision and perspective of a military strategist. Becoming an excellent military commander is much harder than becoming a tournament champion or a killing machine. I will not allow you to charge into the fray, but you will sit by my side, listen, and learn; you must prepare to become an excellent military commander."

Robb's eyes lit up, "Father, can I become an excellent commander?"

"You certainly can, but you must cast aside the notion of becoming a hero on horseback." Eddard used his hand to straighten Robb's direwolf pin, "People mention warriors on the battlefield and heroes in the tournament grounds everywhere, but there are only a few excellent military commanders, such as Tywin Lannister, Randyll Tarly, and Stannis."

"Robb, you must not only study military affairs but also politics, and learn how to deal with nobles and commoners. In this hypocritical world, full of deception and betrayal, only by planning strategically and insightfully understanding the human heart can you protect your family and your people in this hypocritical world."

Robb was bewildered, "Politics? What is there to learn about that? It's nothing more than dealing with people! As long as one keeps one's promises and pursues fairness and justice in all things, one can naturally win people's hearts."

"You are still too young." Eddard smiled, "Do not be too naive; politics may be the most profound discipline. Some excellent military strategists are not necessarily adept at politics; for example, Stannis—this man is brave and skilled in battle, but he has never been able to win people's hearts."

"In contrast, Tywin Lannister is a more terrifying opponent. This man is not only skilled in training troops and commanding battles, but he also served as Hand of the King for decades during the time of the Mad King Aerys; Tywin is a master of both politics and military affairs."

"Robb, you must study hard; you are the Heir of Stark and Winterfell, and I have high expectations for you."

The walls of the First Men Ring Fort were already covered in cracks and dilapidated, but some trenches, towers, and houses could still be used. Eddard looked at these moss-covered ring fort walls and frowned, "How long have these ring forts of the First Men stood here?"

The Old Bear Mormont stroked his snow-white beard, with his pet raven standing on his shoulder. Mormont said, "During the Dawn Age, the First Men built the ring forts here; these ring forts may be even older than the Wall."

Robb was shocked to hear this, "The Dawn Age? Why did the First Men come Beyond the Wall to build ring forts? Could it be that in ancient times, the First Men fought the Others here?"

Eddard nodded, "It is very likely."

Helen Pyke asked in confusion, "The influence of the First Men actually reached as far as the Fist of the First Men. The North are descendants of the First Men, yet they lost the land here. Where did the First Men who lived near the Fist of the First Men go back then? They weren't wiped out by the Others, were they? Or did they flee south of the Wall?"

Eddard smiled, "The descendants of the First Men who built the ring forts back then very likely live in the nearby Haunted Forest, the Frostfangs, or the Milkwater basin. Don't forget, the Wildlings are also descendants of the First Men."

Greatjon Umber said in a gruff voice, "Lord Eddard, the Wildlings are just a group of uncivilized savages; could their ancestors have built such magnificent ring forts? I highly doubt it!"

The command post was located in a tent beside the ring fort. Winterfell soldiers and stewards had set up the tent, and Eddard, Greatjon, Earl Rickard Karstark and other Northern nobles, the Old Bear, Benjen, Thoren Smallwood, and other Night's Watch commanders filed in.

Torches flickered in the tent, and Eddard spoke to Domeric.

"Write a letter to Castle Black and tell the brothers of the Night's Watch that we have arrived safely at the Fist of the First Men."

Domeric made a face, "Lord Eddard, there are still eagles around the Fist of the First Men. I think it is highly probable that they are still warg eagles; I estimate the ravens we send out will be shot down by the eagles before they can fly very far."

"Release a few more; wargs cannot possibly catch every raven." Moreover, wargs also need to eat and sleep and cannot control eagles indefinitely. Eddard himself was a warg, but others had very limited knowledge of wargs, so Eddard did not say much more.

The Northern nobles and Night's Watch commanders sat together around a temporarily constructed long table.

The Old Bear stared at the map on the table, "According to the intelligence sent back by Jeremy Lake and Fellan, the number of Wildling scouts and cavalry under Harma Dogshead along the Milkwater may exceed five hundred. This number is too frightening; usually, encountering ten Wildling cavalrymen is a rarity, and the appearance of hundreds of Wildling cavalrymen together is simply unheard of."

Eddard nodded slightly, "Mance Rayder has gathered a Wildling army numbering in the tens of thousands; it is not strange that the Wildlings can scrape together a few hundred horses. I suspect the Wildlings have more cavalry lying in ambush elsewhere; we should increase our vigilance."

Thoren Smallwood said proudly, "The horses Beyond the Wall are cold-resistant, but they are small in size. What do Wildlings know about cavalry tactics? Much of the equipment of the Wildling cavalry was stripped from dead Rangers; they rarely even have leather armor, let alone chainmail or plate armor."

"I believe Ser Jeremy Lake and Fellan can easily defeat Harma Dogshead. My lords, in my opinion, we should take the initiative. We still have over three thousand cavalry and over one thousand infantry in our hands; leave the infantry at the Fist of the First Men, and the cavalry will charge directly toward the upper reaches of the Milkwater to wipe out Mance Rayder's camp, and the Wildlings will cry and wail as they flee back to their homelands."

Eddard stroked his Obsidian Dagger, "If the enemy were only Wildlings, I would believe your tactics might have a chance of success, but don't forget, there are wargs among the Wildlings. Wargs control bears, shadowcats, wild boars, and there may be other fierce beasts we haven't seen; even if the cavalry isn't afraid, the warhorses will fear the beasts."

"During the Rock-born War last year, the Northern cavalry feared unicorns, and many cavalrymen lost their precious lives because of it; I absolutely will not allow such a thing to happen again."

Ranger Ser Mallador Locke came from the Locke family of the North's Oldcastle; he had known Eddard before joining the Night's Watch, and he smiled nervously, "Lord Eddard, people always die in war. Even if the Wildlings have wargs, their numbers cannot be large; if you cut off their heads, they will die just the same."

The Old Bear said gloomily, "That may be so, but don't forget, there is also the threat of the Others."

Silence spread among the group. When they had just left the Wall, the Northern soldiers and the brothers of the Night's Watch were still making all sorts of jokes about the Others; everyone felt that the Others were just monsters from bedtime stories, not truly existing.

However, from Whitetree to Craster's Keep, and then to the Fist of the First Men, every Wildling captive had spoken of the Others. Whether it was the Weirwood Heart Tree, the Haunted Forest, or the towering Frostfangs to the west, all were permeated with an atmosphere of death, terror, and cold. Various ominous rumors circulated among the soldiers' campfires, and more and more people began to worry about the existence of the Others.

Eddard looked at the group, "We have enough Obsidian Daggers and arrowheads, and we have prepared enough tar torches. When the Others and wights come, I believe we can still achieve victory."

Benjen looked at his brother, "Eddard, Fellan and Jeremy Lake's scouts have been scouting along the Milkwater, but we haven't sent scouts into the Frostfangs or the Haunted Forest."

The wilderness was full of enemies everywhere, and sending out scouts meant greater risks, while having no scouts meant losing eyes and ears in the wilderness; this was a dilemma. Eddard said cautiously, "The Halfhand and the mountain clans and rangers under his command are heading north along the Frostfangs. Jory Cassel and Davon are leading the army to sweep the Haunted Forest. I believe there is no need to send out additional scouts."

The Old Bear said in a gruff voice, "The Haunted Forest is too vast; even if Jory Cassel and Davon's army numbers over one thousand, it is easy to be swallowed up in the Haunted Forest. As for the Frostfangs, this is the most treacherous and largest mountain range Beyond the Wall. The Halfhand's army is advancing from south to north; if we send scouts to investigate, it will just happen to support the Halfhand and the mountain clans."

Eddard looked toward Robb, "What is your opinion?"

Robb pondered for a long while, "Father, we should send out scouts. Are we to stay at the Fist of the First Men, sit trapped here, and wait for the tens of thousands of Wildling armies or the legendary army of the Others to find us? That damned Mance Rayder has wargs for reconnaissance; if we don't send out scouts, we will only be more passive."

"Your analysis makes a lot of sense." Eddard turned to the Northern nobles and Night's Watch commanders, "The next question is, whom shall we send to scout?"

Benjen was the first to raise his hand, "I am willing to go anywhere to scout; I am very familiar with the surroundings of the Fist of the First Men."

"No, Benjen, you must stay; we cannot do without you during the decisive battle." Eddard did not want to risk Benjen.

The Old Bear nodded, "Yes, Benjen, you are my right-hand man; you must stay." The Old Bear and Eddard both knew clearly in their hearts that Benjen was of House Stark of Winterfell and was also the First Ranger of the Night's Watch; he was the link between the North and the Night's Watch coalition.

The Old Bear and Eddard quickly finalized the candidates: Ranger commander Thoren Smallwood would take a team of rangers to scout the Haunted Forest, and Ranger Jarmen Buckwell would take a team of rangers to scout along the Deer Branch River.

Another team of Night's Watch rangers, led by Black Jack Bulwer, would head toward the Screaming Pass of the Frostfangs.

Eddard and Jon stood before the ring fort of the Fist of the First Men, watching the rangers ride down the mountain and disappear into the wilderness.

Jon whispered, "Father, my dream is to become a Night's Watch Ranger. If Uncle Benjen were going on patrol today, I had originally thought about going with him. I want to join the Night's Watch."

Eddard frowned, "Jon, haven't I told you? I do not allow you to join the Night's Watch."

Jon squeezed out a sorrowful smile, "I know Father has my best interests at heart. But, I am a bastard of Winterfell, and Lady Catelyn has always been hostile toward me; there is no place for me in Winterfell."

Eddard stroked Jon's ear, "Silly boy, Winterfell has Arya, Robb, me, and your friends Helen, Lareza, Domeric, Bran, and Rickon, as well as Maester Luwin, Old Nan... with so many people who love you, can't they offset one Catelyn?"

"Why must you care about Catelyn's gaze? She is not your mother. You just stay in Winterfell and behave yourself."

Jon lowered his voice, "Father, if you can answer one question for me, I won't ask anymore."

"What question?" Eddard had an ominous premonition.

Jon said excitedly, "Who exactly is my mother? Why have you never said?"

Because saying it might cost you your life, boy. On the surface, Jon is Eddard's bastard, but this is merely a pretext to cover Jon's identity; in reality, Jon is Eddard's nephew.

Jon Snow's mother was Eddard's sister, Lyanna Stark, and his father was the famous Rhaegar Targaryen.

During the Battle of the Trident, Robert Baratheon encountered his romantic rival Rhaegar Targaryen, and the two fought fiercely; Robert Baratheon's warhammer struck the ruby dragon emblem on Rhaegar Targaryen's breastplate, Rhaegar Targaryen perished, and the death knell for the Targaryen Dynasty was sounded.

Subsequently, the Mad King Aerys died at the hands of the "Kingslayer" Jaime Lannister, the dragon dynasty collapsed completely, the throne changed hands, and all of Rhaegar Targaryen's wife and children were brutally slaughtered.

Today, the last heirs of the Targaryen family, Rhaegar Targaryen's brother Prince Viserys and sister Daenerys, are in exile on the continent of Essos, having spent the past years drifting through cities like Braavos, Tyrosh, and Pentos, while Robert Baratheon has never given up on hunting down the remnants of the former dynasty.

In some letters Robert Baratheon wrote to Eddard, Robert Baratheon often complained to Eddard that some commoners still called him the "Usurper," which made him very unhappy. When commoners talk about this war, they prefer the name "Usurper's War" rather than "War of the Usurper."

After all, the Targaryen family ruled the Seven Kingdoms for three hundred years, while the Baratheon dynasty has only ruled for a dozen years; some nobles still miss the Targaryen, privately venerating portraits of the Targaryen kings and longing for the return of the dragons.

If Robert Baratheon knew Jon's true parentage, knowing that Eddard's bastard was actually the child of his romantic rival Rhaegar Targaryen and his beloved Lyanna Stark, Robert Baratheon would see this as Eddard's betrayal; not only would the brothers turn against each other, but Robert Baratheon would certainly insist on executing Jon.

The schemer Littlefinger of the Small Council, Queen Cersei of the court, and the master of whisperers Varys would certainly see Jon's true parentage as an opportunity to strike at the North, and they would fan the flames and wait for their moment to act. Under the incitement of schemers who fear not chaos in the world, the wrath of the Iron Throne would very likely bring war, blood, and slaughter to Winterfell.

At the Fist of the First Men, Jon asked about the identity of his mother, and Eddard felt the nameless gods of the streams, stones, rivers, and trees watching him; Eddard cleared his throat.

"Jon, I do not allow you to ask about your mother. It is enough for you to remember that she was a good person. Rest assured, in the future, I will certainly tell you."

This answer made Jon very expectant, "When?"

Eddard did not answer, but he already had the answer in his heart.

When the dragons are reborn.

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(End of this chapter)